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Broken Dreams	By : CardDragonBall Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 1667 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Broken Dreams
- 2-2
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Broken Dreams

Disclaimers/Warnings/Bad Summaries:

1. I have finally seen Weiss Kruez--I still don't open.

2. There will the be following : SLASH (Baddie sex--Crawford & Schuldig. Both MALE. *gasp*) This is a serious attempt to keep Schuldig (and everyone else) in character.

3. Mini-summary: Between Episode 24 and Episode 25. Schuldig takes a momentary interest in Aya. Crawford is curious about it. *sucky summary*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

He had not intention of messing with the redhaired one. Just the boy, because his mind twisted up tight at the sight of him and wriggled around so beautifully. Beautiful pain. Guilt. Killed his sister, killed the bad guys--killer.

But the redhead was uninteresting. Crawford liked him. Stood in Takatori's office with a smirk on his face and mumbled in his mind about how that redhead would be the key. The undoing of Eszett, the fools that thought they were going to bring about a new-world order. Schwarz wasn't going to allow that to happen. No sense in bringing about a new order if it was going to be the same as before, different people in power--but always the same idea.

Order. Sense. Reason...

The redhead. Fujimiya Aya. The man that all of Weiss depended on, the one that they just couldn't live without. Their martyr, their justification, their reminder, their reason. The little boy with his sister's name that made Crawford smile.

Aya who would end up doing all the work for them, like a good little boy.

And then the thought, in passing, when he was driving down the street.

...want out...

Just a whisper. A half-formed desire as the redhead turned to look up. Saw the sky and freedom and a life without the katana. He had exhausted himself. And if only for just that one second, he wanted to be free of his sister, free of the responsibility he took on, free of killing and dying. Maybe he wanted her dead.

The possiblities of what he could do with that one thought were perfectly endless.

Crawford called him the devil with that glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. The devil that didn't belong in hell, the man that would strip away the layer of reason and expose the flesh of the real mind underneath. Primative, reactive--primal. The mind of the world.

The mind of Fujimiya Aya.

Farfarello just smirked. He spoke the best when he didn't speak anyway. Expressed in approval of this new plan by the smirk on his face and flashed his knife like he did when he thought something was cruel.

"Remember the bees," Crawford said in a dry tone. The man that always gave the last warning.

~~~***

He was delivering flowers. Schuldig left the car parked out of sight and walked up to the Kitty In the House cart, sat on the uncomfortable little cart and licked his lips.

Waited for Aya and when he finally showed up, wearing the hideous green apron, Schuldig flashed him a toothy grin. Let his eyes close almost all the way and felt the twist in the mind. Shock. Outrage. The good had such a simplistic view of right and wrong.

"What's the matter...Aya?"

A flash of pain so bright it made Schuldig laugh. Delicious burn in his mind, like a mental orgasm, and he stood up. Lanquid, lazy. Let Aya run up to him and grab him by the shirt, fists tight and his knuckles were bright white. Eyes glittering and cold. "Where is she! Where is my sister!"

"What do you care?" he asked, pushed the hands away from him. Not much effort, just a little push and Aya stepped back far enough to ball up his fists and coiled up tight like he was ready for a fight. "I heard you--you want her dead."

"No!"

"Yes," he breathed. Straightened his jacket. "Isn't it true? You blame your sister for this. If she hadn't have run out in the road--Takatori wouldn't have hit her... You wouldn't be part of Weiss you'd be far away. Free."

And a thousand broken dreams ran through Aya's mind. Images of what he wanted to be. A doctor, an actor, a vet, a teacher--anything but this.

"No!" Aya shouted again. "Shut up!" He tried to punch Schuldig, but all he had to do was slip to the side and the pale white fist hit the cart behind him instead. Aya bared his teeth and turned, ready to attack him again. Furious, blindly furious. "Where's my sister!"

"What do you care?" Schuldig asked again. And he left.

~~~***

"Did it work out?" Crawford asked when he got back. He was wearing that ridiculous white suit again. Not the cream one, the stupid white one that the Eszett made them wear.

As if taking over the world really required one to wear white suits. The ridiculousness of their insistence on wardrobe was enough of a reason to undermine them. They had boring aspirations anyway.

Schuldig leaned against the wall, crossed his ankles and rested his hands on his hips. Closed his eyes and went over the feeling of Aya's mind in his. The explosion of pain and regret and frustration. It was the perfect sort of taste, the best of all the mind-warps. Not quite as degrading as rape but not as sophisticated as lust. "Honey," he said.

"We don't want him broken, Schuldig."

"I'm done with him." It wasn't his interest, it was Crawford's. Still in his mind now as he sat on his chair and pretended he didn't care. Impeccable. Untouchable. Uninterested in the mind of Fujimiya. But he had questions, buzzing around his mind like the bees he liked to warn about.

Curiousity. One of the few reasons that Weiss was allowed to live for so long. Curiousity and the little sliver of the future that Crawford had seen--that Weiss was the key to the old one's death.

"And the girl?"

Sakura. She was going to be useful still. Physically. Crawford told him the plan--but her mind. He could destroy that if he wanted to. Twist her around so hard and fast--harder than when she held that gun in her hand and cried inside her mind because she had shot Aya. The man that she loved.

Loved.

"For now," he said finally. Answering Crawford's question. And they were still. Quiet. Waiting to be called to the old ones or waiting for something else to happen. The end already existed in Crawford's mind, a perfect little scene of chaos. There was no reason to be burdened by what ifs or to hurry around like the sycophants and prepare for the grand ritual.

"We have forty minutes," Crawford said.

Schuldig smirked. "Really?"

~~~***

Schu: *gasp* I seem like I do in the show!

Crawford: *tsk* Stop repeating what the author thinks.

Schu: Ja. She thinks she's so great...

Next chap is the lemon. Just to warn you.
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Broken Dreams

Broken Dreams