BY : MikoNoHoshi
Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4275
Disclaimer: I get no money from writing these fics, nor I don't own Weiss. In fact, I'm not even allowed to touch the pretty least not in any of their special places...

Chapter Forty-One: Settle Me

She was rather plain, with her freckles and her dark hair drawn into a ponytail at her neck. Schuldig looked away from the window as she approached his table, carrying the white cup and small, dessert-laden plate. He scanned her thoughts with no particular intent, was, being slightly disappointed that her primary concern for him was the he was foreign and a little creepy, made a quick alteration that her smiling suggestively at him.

“Thank you.”

She seemed a little confused as she moved to serve the next customers.

Pouring creamer into his coffee, Schuldig watched the white liquid swirl and cloud the clear black.

It had been simple, almost ridiculously so. He had worked from the ally below, carefully tucked away from the noisy crowd of girls in the front of the shop—though he had thought, more than once, how fun it would be to walk in one day and order Chrysanthemums for Bradley. Not today, though. He had stayed in the shadows, no proximity necessary for the easy tweaks to Balinese’s racing thoughts.

With a bit of misdirection, a slight intensification of the already heavy desire to comfort (not the only desire, he found with a mix of delight and jealousy), and the renown observational skills of the blonde kitten were useless. He didn’t see the bruises Schuldig had inadvertently left, and no matter how many time he ran his hands through Aya’s hair (something he seemed rather obsessed with, and something Schuldig wished he had paid more attention to as it seemed to calm the boy, something he could have exploited), he didn’t feel the tender bumps. So simple.

Of course, his broken kitten was even better. His powers had no use there, the boy being as paranoid as he was. Still, he had indulged in a second invasion of that mind, getting only glimpses without the intense confrontation of before, and it seemed that his mission was a success. Aya was leery, thoroughly warned about keeping his place, full of dread about Crawford showing up at his door; interesting enough, he seemed to think Balinese had saved him.

Schuldig frowned, taking a sip of the coffee and finding it slightly bitter. Despite his injuries (Aya considered them minor), he saw the blonde as something of a liberating force, meaning that to Aya Schuldig had been chased away by Balinese’s presence. It irked him, that the kitten thought he could be so easily beaten.

How stupid.

No, he corrected. His kätzchen wasn’t stupid; he was confused. Poor little thing.

That brought back the smile. When all was said and done, the kätzchen would be his. No one had said so, but Bradley would have no use for him once Takatori and Esset were satisfied. If the boy survived…yes, that would be fun.

Lifting his fork, Schuldig took a bite of the chocolate cake. It was deep and rich and tasted like anticipation.


“Manx is coming tomorrow,” Omi said softly, almost apologetically. The regret, however, was not so much for the imminent arrival as his inadvertent waking of Aya. What had apparently been a rather peaceful nap had been rather harshly interrupted; he hadn’t done anything except touch Aya’s arm, but the disgruntled look Yohji was giving him suggested he ought to have known better.

Thankfully, after a few minutes of coaxing, the wide-eyed boy had taken the supper Omi had brought him and let Yohji tuck the warm comforter around his legs. He had been shaking.

Hoping to put him at ease, Omi had quickly adjourned to the hall; Yohji had followed, shoving his hair out of his face with one hand and working a cigarette out of the pack with the other.

“Tomorrow?” Yohji asked around the unlit cigarette.

Omi nodded.


“Yohji-kun, have you…told him?”

It was clear he hadn’t.


Yohji watched as Omi tried to persuade Aya into drinking the suspiciously pink liquid he had poured into a juice glass. Supposedly, it was Ensure, some kind of vitamin and calories rich drink that old people had once they lost all their teeth and, Yohji thought, will to taste. Omi was positive it would help Aya, but having tasted it himself (his mind unsure why he was consuming a chalk-flavored milkshake), Yohji had his doubts. Still, he smiled encouragingly when Aya looked in his direction.

The boy drank it, clearly trying to repress the urge to gag.

Omi grinned, promising to get the chocolate kind next time.

Aya nodded, and Yohji watched him obediently finish most of the glass. He looked tired, even with the nap and a night’s sleep, the latter being broken by more unaware bouts of crying than they had faced in a week and one full-fledged nightmare. Yohji wondered at it, but marked it off as a part of recovery. And the boy did look better. Just as the day before, he had let the blonde select his outfit, asking only for something with long sleeves. Yohji had easily obliged, handing over the black, zip-up sweater that fit his trim form nicely along with a pair of gray jeans that were just a little too big. He looked nice, and when he looked up to catch Yohji’s stare, even better.


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