Castle Down

See beyond the moment
Think beyond the day
Hear the word
My voice will not be cast away
Fatalistic fortune
Ever near the end
Love goes on
But Time does not return again

--

His first day in school was strange for two reasons; the first and foremost reason was he was seated next to Naoe Nagi, and they weren't trying to kill eachother.

The looks he was receiving varied from friendly to curious, but by far the most malicious looks he got were from Naoe himself. He did his best to ignore the younger boy glaring at him as though he'd burst into flame, but he kept tossing his head to get his hair out of his eyes, and brought the telekinetic into view every five minutes or so.

His hair he'd decided was too noticeable - too memorable - and had dyed it black. None of the Schwarz members had questioned him on it; Nanami had paused to tell him it looked nice, which had garnered an almost violent reaction from the psychokinetic.

Finally fed up with Nagi's glaring interfering with his ability to concentrate long enough to take notes, he tore a scrap of paper from the corner of his work.

Hey psychopath. I'm not interested in Nanami. You can stop trying to set my head on fire now.

It was an almost indecently casual way of speaking, especially to someone who was willing and able to kill him. He didn't feel afraid though; not the way he used to feel when faced by those cold blue eyes. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Nagi flickered over the note, and then tucked it under his notebook to hide it from the teacher's prying sight. He gave no indication that he'd ever received it, except for a noticeable lessening of his glowers.

Feeling good about having deflected one problem for the moment, he resolved to talk to the teacher about his 'cousin' and how they didn't really get along, and if he could maybe switch to a different seat?

He'd almost rejected the notion of going back to school when Crawford explained that he was going to have to discard the name Tsukiyono. It wasn't his true name, but it had been given to him by his father, and it was important to him.

"You're too easily trackable. It was a good idea to dye your hair. You cannot take my last name, and Farfarello and Schuldig have no surnames. Therefore, we will register you as Nagi's cousin under the name Naoe Omi." He'd stiffened at the sound of it, but couldn't argue.

Neither boy had been happy about the name change, but it was a necessary evil. Omi had resolved to stay out of Nagi's way, but with Nanami refusing to just let him stay in his room or on the roof alone, Nagi was usually not far behind her, checking on her and staring hard at Omi.

When the bell rang to release them from school for the day, he wandered down to catch the bus with Nagi, but was side-tracked by Schuldig waving him over.

"Crawford said if you take the bus today, Nagi will probably kill you, so I'm picking you up for now, and we're getting you a new bike." He opened the passenger side door, and then walked around to settle himself behind the steering wheel. Omi climbed in almost uncertainly.

Excitement was doing it's best to crawl it's way up through his chest at the prospect of another motorcycle. He'd loved his bike, loved the freedom it had given him, and he couldn't contain happiness about it. He felt he shoudln't be happy; his friends thought he was dead, he was relying on the company and good will of a group of people who had tried numerous times in the past to kill him.

There's nothing left to be happy about, he'd thought, and the only way he could think of to display that unhappiness with his own death and exile from Weiss was to surround himself with black, as he was now surrounded with Schwarz. Black, everything black, to help him to leave his past behind; black to help him forget the white.

--

The wind in his face and the road stretching out in front of him filled him with happiness that bubbled up from within and flowed out of him in laughter. He was following Schuldig back to the apartment, and the telepath reached back to touch his mind.

-Crawford just told me we're heading out tonight to check something out. You're coming with, cause it'll give you a good chance to practice. Make sure you get any homework done before we leave. We're out at ten.-

Later that night, Crawford knocked on the door and stepped inside without waiting for a reply. Since Schuldig didn't knock, and Nanami would have waited - Farfarello and Nagi didn't come into his room for anything - he knew who it was without looking up from his work.

"Yes?" He asked politely, finishing the sentence he was writing on the paper in front of him.

"I'd like you to dress in something you might not mind getting dirty," Crawford said, glancing around the room. He nodded once. "It looks nice in here,"

Omi was too busy gathering his scattered wits to respond immediately, and nodded dumbly in reply. Crawford nodded in turn, and closed the door behind him. A conversation with Nanami earlier had revealed that Crawford and Schuldig shared a room and a bed, though they'd been going through a period of 'tumult' and barely spoke three civil words to one another in a day.

"Actually," Nanami whispered, leaning close to keep anyone from hearing. "Don't tell anyone, but Crawford's been sleeping in his office the past few nights. I don't know if Schuldig kicked him out or if he left on his own, but I feel like they're in real trouble. I wish there was something I could do for them. I'm worried about Schuldig."

He wondered briefly where Crawford had slept before moving to Schuldig's room, and then pushed it aside to change his clothes. A few minutes of surveying his closet later, he decided not to change after all, and remained in his uniform. He had others, he rationalized, and he didn't feel like associating a 'job' with any of the clothes he'd wear day to day. As he exited his room, a hat plopped onto his head. He turned and looked at Schuldig who shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "But we're all wearing one." He'd tucked his hair up into a similar hat, and gave a wink. Omi thought back on what Nanami had said about his and Crawford's troubles.

"She picked up on that, hm?" Schuldig asked in response to his thoughts. "I should teach you to shield your mind. Tomorrow, maybe," he added. "Don't worry about Crawford and I. We're just having a spat. It'll work out." His tone was light and dismissive, and Omi might have let it go there, but his eyes reflected a haunted look of loneliness and despair of rejection.

The drive to the building they were investigating was a short one, and the job easy. It was almost over when suddenly Schuldig sent out an alert to the rest of them - Weiss had shown up to kill someone who was still in the building, conducting research.

Crawford and Farfarello exchanged a look at this news, and then focused on Omi at the same time. Schuldig picked up on it a second later, and made a grab for him as he bolted.

"OMI!" he hissed.

"I have to see," Omi whisper-shouted back at him. I just have to look. I'll be right back. I just have to know. It repeated in his mind like a CD that had started skipping. I just have to see. I have to know. I just have to see.

He skidded to a halt beside a door leading to a staircase, and watched Ran stalk past, his katana bare. Relief overwhelmed him to see them alright, and he sagged against the wall. Yohji and Ken followed, and he was about to turn back when another shape passed by, a younger boy with shaggy hair holding a circular weapon.

Ice settled into his stomach with finality. They'd replaced him already.

He knew he should have expected it; none of the others were as good with the computer as he was, and they'd need a fourth, but to see it like that stung.

He quelled the urge to follow them, and was turning to leave when he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"Who're you?" He turned back, and saw the boy with the circle staring wide-eyed at him. The boy reached up and touched something at his throat. "Siberian, there's someone else here!"

The radio crackled while Omi stood there, frozen in surprise. "Say again? Someone what?" Footsteps thumped down the stairs, and Ken came into view again, his claws ready. He almost missed Omi in the darkness, but a moment later the hallway and stairs flooded with light from a window as the clouds covering the moon passed over. Recognition washed over Ken, and he stumbled into the wall.

"Omi. I knew it was you earlier, I knew it. Why didn't you come back? Omi?"

There were voices coming from up above them now, Yohji and Ran returning from whomever they'd just killed. Omi shook his head, and turned, his feet moving before he'd made the conscious decision to run.

"OMI!" Ken hollered after him, and tried to follow, but tripped over a rug that had been laid down badly. "Wait..."

"Omi was here?" Ran asked, suddenly by his side.

"He was," the other boy said. "I saw him, too. He went that way."

--

Omi kept running until he ran straight into another body. Arms came around him, and his legs gave out from under him as the realization of what he'd left behind with his former friends hit him. The person holding him simply held tighter so that he wouldn't fall. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he choked back the sobs that longed to break free. He fought against the display, not wanting whoever had caught him to think less of him for it.

"Go ahead and cry," came the quiet voice from above him. It was rough and rumbled comfortingly in the chest his head was laying against, and the soft understanding in it broke through his last barrier. It was the last thing he remembered until he woke up in Crawford's car, leaning against Schuldig.

Looking around, he realized they were on their way back to the apartment. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," Schuldig commented lightly. Farfarello and Nagi were in his car, following behind them, and Crawford was silent in the front seat.

"I'm sorry," Omi whispered. "I messed up."

"No," Crawford said sternly. "We were meant to let Weiss see you. I just didn't realize it until after you'd run off."

The idea of Crawford admitting to a weakness was startling, and almost enough to bring him out of the black mood he'd been settling into. Schuldig grinned.

"Ask him one day how his gift works," he suggested. Crawford's eyes flickered up to meet theirs in the rear-view mirror. Omi lowered his gaze, semi-aware of the silent conversation that was going on above his head.

-Also, I'm including you in our link - this is important, so don't abuse it. You'll be able to talk to any one of us with your thoughts. Crawford told me it was just a matter of directing your thoughts towards the person you want to speak to, but I wouldn't suggest saying anything private until you learn to actually reach the one you want, otherwise we'll all hear everything you say.-

--

The next afternoon found him alone in the house again, the pouring rain preventing him from retreating to his hide-away on the roof. Nagi and Nanami had gone on what Nagi referred to as a 'study session' and Nanami had called a 'double date' with two of Nanami's friends from school. Farfarello and Schuldig had disappeared into the city hours ago, and Crawford left after informing Omi that if any of them asked, he'd be at the office of the man hoping to employ them.

Also making use of the link Schuldig had told him about the night before, Crawford explained that their job the night before had been a preliminary for him; the researcher Weiss had killed had once been on his team of scientists, and had stolen some data and left the company, and they'd been assigned to kill him or see that he was dead, and Crawford now needed to go report back to their employer-hopeful.

With nothing to do, and nowhere to go - he'd been forbidden to use his bike for anything but getting to and from school, and had no trouble with complying - he'd settled down on the mangled couch and watched movies.

"Do you love me?" Came a voice from behind him some hours later. Omi whipped around to find the source, and boggled as he saw Farfarello leaning against the wall. Nanami had said he was the normal one, he thought, and shook his head nervously.

"Do you think you could ever love me?" Farfarello asked again in English, pressing a false-sounding accent to his voice.

"What?" Omi finally managed, and Farfarello rummaged through the piles of DVDs.

"You're getting it wrong," he said, lapsing back into Japanese. "You need to watch this." Finally he held up a DVD that was entitled "The Mighty Boosh", and put on something called "Old Gregg."

The two of them sat side by side, watching the television. Omi couldn't tell whether the show was a joke or serious, until the man in the tutu stood up and shouted, a beam of light emanating from his body.

Farfarello quoted alongside it, grinning. "Want a little drinky? I'll get you a drink."

It was the strangest thing Omi'd ever seen in his life, but with Farfarello acting it out beside him it somehow became hilariously funny. By the time it was over, the two of them were huddled on the couch, laughing hysterically.

"Soft and creamy Bailey's," Farfarello said.

"That's as close as you can get to Bailey's without your eyes getting wet," Omi replied, and both of them broke out in fresh laughter.

"You're both freaks," Schuldig said from the doorway. "Farfarello, I thought I told you never to show anyone that ever again," he said, covering his eyes dramatically.

"Just because you can't appreciate good humor," Farfarello started, and Schuldig cut him off. Omi felt suddenly exposed, and let the DVD keep running as he crept into his room. The argument continued behind him unabated.

A few minutes later, Farfarello pushed open his door. "Crawford told me to teach you to fight with knives," he said. "Come up to the roof whenever you're ready."

Curiousity drove him up, and determination not to fail kept him there. The rain had stopped, but it was still wet, and he kept slipping.

"To train balance," Farfarello said, dancing easily across the ground. He taught Omi the correct way of holding the knife, of keeping it clean, hidden, and sharp, and how to come up under a persons defense with it before they realized you were there.

By the time they were done, it was dark and Omi was damp with sweat, but grinning. "You do good," Farfarello commented. "Tomorrow, you will teach me to throw darts?" he asked. Omi nodded, taken off-guard.

/Schuldig and I have a game every month. He beats me terribly. Don't tell him you're teaching me,/ Farfarello added silently.

It made him feel conspiratorial to help Farfarello win at a game of darts against his team-mate, and he suddenly felt like he was more than just an unwelcome outsider. "I won't tell," he promised, and buried the thought of it deep in his mind.


--
TBC
Lyrics are Across the Sky, by Emilie Autumn
This is Old Greg: http://youtube.com/watch?v=u_hMnT44Etk
You should all watch it. Trust me.