Schicksal-Leibw�chter (Fated Bodyguard)

He's only eighteen, but already he shows great promise as the leader he will become in just a few short years.

I watch the youngest Weiss from my vantage point from across the street, merely observing peacefully. It's been a long time since we fought at the Estet museum, almost a year and a half, and he hasn't changed much. Maybe his hair is longer.

He's ordering the girls out of the shop so that they can close and clean. I remember Abyssinian's harsh glare as he used to order them about, trying to weed the customers out of the mass of fangirls. I also remember that it rarely worked, no matter how forbidding and imposing he looked.

He's happy with his sister now, which is a strange sight to behold. I can't believe that Estet tried to use her to summon a demon lord. She's so... undemonic.

The tall blonde, Balinese I believe his codename was, is long gone, and research reveals that he's found another woman, a nurse. He seems happier. The brunette who killed my 'mother' is nowhere to be found, and I don't care to look. All I'm worried about is the fact that the littlest Weiss still works at the flower shop, and carries on his life as an assassin.

I try to convince myself daily that he means nothing to me, but it's a losing battle. Every time I see him leave, dressed from head to toe in black -- he seems to have abandoned his 'uniform' from the old days -- my heart skips a few beats, and I can't stop myself from following him, just to make sure he's safe. One of these days, he's going to catch me, but I'm confident I can stop anything he can throw at me.

It starts raining while I sit in contemplation of the doors of the flower shop, and he pauses to stare out the window at the gloom, broom in hand. His expression is almost wistful, and I know he's thinking of his team-mates. That expression makes me want to cross the street, unlock the door, and take him in my arms, but I quell the desire almost before it's finished forming. If Schuldig or Farfarello were to pick up on it, they'd either ridicule me until the day I died, or the day I died would become now.

With a visible sigh, he finishes his cleaning, and steps outside to pull the metal grate down over the glass windows of the shopfront, the rain soaking through his green hoodie and apron in the few seconds he's out there. I watch as he goes around to the side door, the same one I found myself at to deliver the message from Crawford so long ago.

Before I consciously decide to go, I'm standing, laying some bills on the table for the kind waitress who brought me coffee some time ago. Entering into the rainy evening, I dodge a crowd of high schoolers walking home from after school clubs in the rain, and wait for the light traffic to move on, and then I'm across the street, letting myself into the flowershop.

The door opens up into what appears to be a storage room; boxes and soil are stacked almost higher than I am, and I take the time to gently rearrange so that they're not so dangerously stacked. With my power, it takes only seconds, and I'm out of the storage room, and into the flower shop itself, darkened and silent. Like a cat, I move upstairs into the apartments above, and wait for him to come into my room. There, he was in the kitchen making tea, and he's sitting down, completely unaware of my presence in the room.

I step forward, and he gasps, glancing around for a weapon. I shake my head, raising my arms in gesture of surrender, and his eyes narrow, not believing me for a second. I sigh, disturbed that even after a year and a half of peace from both sides, he should still be so paranoid.

Then again, I allow, I did break into his house and sneak up on him. "I won't hurt you," I say, and mentally wince as I sound like I'm talking to a skittish animal. The house has obviously had a feminine touch at some point; the rug under foot is a pale shell-pink color, and the walls are peach, and there are flowers and incense on various tables. The flowers I understand, but why four assassins would think to add potpourri to their home is beyond me. "My name is Nagi. I've been watching you for a long time."

His eyes widen in recognition. "It's you who follows me," he ventures, his voice strong, yet quiet. I nod, and he scowls. "I don't need you to babysit me," he says. "I don't care how powerful you may be, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." And he is. I just know from experience that he gets caught up in his computer work, and sometimes doesn't hear the approach of guards and other henchmen.

"I know," I offer, and he relaxes for some reason, almost at ease with having a former enemy in his home. For a few moments, I think I'd kill to have Schuldig's gift, to know what's going through his mind, and then I remember the problems he has with it, and push the notion away. I'd much rather have my own telekinesis, no matter how curious I am. "Why are you here?" he asks, and I realize that his relaxing is a ploy, meant to make me think he's lowered his guard, and perhaps lower mine, and I lean against the wall. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

"I don't know," I say, truthfully. He sifts through my words, weighing their verity. "I just wanted to see you," I add, and again flinch internally. I couldn't have been more obvious about my attraction, and there is another light to his eyes now, once I can't quite decipher. It unnerves me. He starts towards me, and a shadow darts out between his feet, tangling them, and he trips. The shadow meows plaintively, and I can't help the laughter that bursts forth from my lips. He grins, embarrassedly, and for a few moments, the two opposing assassins are gone, replaced by a couple of flustered kids. I kneel down in front of him, leaning in close, and for a second I think I'm going to kiss him, then I surprise myself by asking if he's alright.

"I'm fine," he replies, face tinged red by my nearness, and I realize that while I've watched him, he's been watching me, and I scoot just a tiny bit closer, kneeling between his splayed legs, an anxious kitten rubbing at my boots, and I know I'm about to close the distance between our lips, and the door opens.

We whip our heads around at the same time, he looking worried, and I feel my features tighten into a scowl at the interruption.

Aya and ... Aya are standing there, both looking shocked by my presence and our position on the floor.

"Anou, Aya chan. Rankun! What are you doing here?" Omi stammers, leaning farther away from me. The kittens incessant purring and nudging is irritating, and I only barely restrain myself from kicking at it.

Finally, Ran and his sister close their mouths, Ran's lips thinning into a hard line at what he's seemingly interrupted. Standing up carefully so as to not damage the cat, I help Omi to his feet, and bow respectfully to his guests. Slipping around them is easy, and I make my escape as silently as I entered. I hear conversation explode into the silence as soon as I am gone from sight.

When I return to Schwarz's current residence, a two story townhouse not far from the flower shop, Crawford greets me at the door with a plane ticket to Rosenkreuz, telling me that I'm going for further training towards the future he's foreseen for me. I accept it without comment, and pack my things that night, my most precious possession now a memory of Omi's flustered face. It is something that not even Schuldig can take from me.

----

Five years later, I return from Rosenkreuz a changed man. It is a horrible place, where only the strong survive the 'classes' taught, but in terms of my gift, I have never been stronger. Upon my arrival in Japan, an attractive woman with familiar eyes greets me at the terminal, and she introduces herself as Hibino Nanami.

"Nanami-san, where are you taking me?" I ask her. She smiles. "Mister Crawford told me to get you from the air port, and give you this," she says, and reaches between the seats of the car for a folder. I read over it slowly, absorbing the details. I'm returning now from Rosenkreuz because a powerful politician has need of my unique 'services' as a bodyguard. The name sounds familiar, and I place it with the former employer of Schwarz, years ago. Takatori Mamoru. Takatori Reiji was a corrupt man, using his rank for a personal gain I loathed. I celebrated with Schuldig the night Ran finally killed him, glad to be free of the restrictions he imposed on us. Stretching, I glance sideways at her. She really is very familiar to me, and suddenly I recall a white bunny rabbit, and a pretty girl with buns in her hair telling me that we'll live together someday.

I tore the building down around us when she died. Either this is her sister, or she wasn't as dead as I thought she was. "Tot?" I ask, and she accords me a smile.

"Not for a long time," she says. "But that's who I used to be, for Daddy Masafumi." I sit stunned for a few moments, and she adds, conversationally, "Thank you for saving my life."

And that's the end of it. I continue to read on my first solo job. Suddenly, I begin to laugh. What a strange way fate has of bringing people together. My old girlfriend is now the go between for myself and my 'father' who now employs me as more than just a team-mate, and I am assigned to protect the boy I'd once fancied myself in love with.

He is a boy no longer; twenty three, and the head of the company his father ran before him, Kritiker. I cannot believe how much and how little he has changed since I last saw him. His eyes seem infinitely old, yet his features are youthful as ever. His hair falls into his eyes, and even in the picture, an old crush flares up, and I wish to push it back off his face. He wears a trenchcoat and what have to be steel toed boots in the pictures, and I've no doubt there is a gun carefully concealed on his person; probably more than one. If he's as paranoid as he used to be, he's probably got weapons of every sort tucked away into every nook and cranny he can find. I sigh, wondering how I, a former member of Schwarz, came to be in the employ of Takatori Mamoru, a former member of Weiss.

Schuldig used to share mental idles of us using Weiss as our slaves, wearing collars and little else, serving us hand and foot when he was bored. Now it appears to be the other way round. There is a letter in Crawford's neat, precise handwriting tucked behind the information in the folder, and I look at Nanami for a moment before opening it up and reading it.

--Nagi. I'm sure this is probably not what you had in mind when you came back to Japan, but I trust that your training has been sufficient for a job as simple as this. I'm sorry I couldn't have given you more warning, and that is the only apology you will get from me. When I foresaw you protecting Mamoru as his bodyguard, Rosenkreuz presented itself as a means to that end. Schwarz is no more, as you know. Farfarello is dead, and Schuldig continues to follow me out of some blind loyalty he won't admit to. --

I laughed at Crawford's easy tone when speaking of his team-mate. I often used to wonder if they'd ever worked things out together during the long empty nights in Austria. Schuldig'd been quite in love with our precognitive leader, despite the fact that he'd've cut his own throat before even admitting to respecting the man. That side of Crawford, the teasing, paternal side was one he rarely showed when they were on a job, but it was those tantalizing glimpses he allowed them at times that fueled both my filial love and Schuldig's almost blind loyalty. I never knew what prompted Farfarello's staying with them, and I never bothered to ask.

--Takatori has requested a bodyguard of Kritiker, and the organization got together and decided on Rosenkreuz as the answer. Thus, your return to Japan. I'm not altogether sure that he knows about that, and your arrival may come as a bit of a shock to him. Do not scare him unduly, and try to break it to him... gently. He's become a very paranoid man as of late, and I think it has something to do with the new 'school' that Weiss has infiltrated and is inspecting. I'll be in touch. Crawford.--

Taking a deep, even breath, I try to mentally prepare myself for the coming meeting with the frontman of Kritiker as Nanami slows down in front of the building. She hands me a cellphone, and a smile. "My number's in there. If they don't give you a place to stay here, give me a call, and I'll come get you." I nod and tuck the device into a pocket on my jacket, brushing a few stray pieces of hair that have blown into my face.

A guard inspects my ident badge, and checks the cell phone thoroughly for explosive properties or hidden weapons, and then had two other men escort me to the elevator. As soon as I'm inside, I can see the guard speaking into a phone quickly and quietly, probably warning Mamoru of my arrival. The doors closed, and the room lifts slowly. I have nothing else to do besides listen to the irritatingly soft music and watch the numbers slide up.

Finally at the top, they stops, and the doors open. The hallway is dark, but a door opens halfway down, spilling a rectangle of light onto the ground. The carpet seems to be plush, comfortable, and is an almost garish shade of red. It's reminiscent of the pink carpeting at the flowershop all those years ago, and I have to force a smile away from my face, maintaining a professional distance. I wonder briefly if he's just that fond of the colour red, and all it's varying shades.

I step into the large office, looking around quickly and automatically for exits, hiding places, and the general layout, and realize that it's much more than an office. A hallway coming from the other wall leads into a bathroom, and another closed door. I can see a tiny kitchenette curtained off to my left, and the remainder of the room is taken up by a large desk, computer, and loveseat.

Standing in the middle of the room is Takatori Mamoru. His shirt is unbuttoned half-way down, untucked, and he's wearing socks, his boots and jacket discarded beside the small couch. There's an ashtray half full of black cigarettes, and a strong smell of cloves in the air. He has dark circles under his eyes, and looks vaguely unkempt, as though he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in days.

"You're the one they found?" he asks incredulously. His voice is deeper than I remember, without the feminine lilt to it. He sounds tired. I nod and sketch him a small bow, sighing quietly as the movement brings my hair back into my eyes.

"Naoe Nagi, at your services," I introduce myself quietly, and straighten. Mamoru's eyes widen, and he's taking slow steps towards me.

Frowning as he examins my face and clothes, we are neither of us aware of the beast crouching itself under the desk for an attack. He was halfway across the room to me when it launched its assault, flinging itself from under the wooden structure straight towards Mamoru. I have time only for a strangled grunt before the cat twines itself around Mamoru's feet, tripping him up and sending him sprawling, undignified, onto the floor. I kneel down in front of him, an echo of our last meeting five years ago in his apartment.

We are different people now, leading different lives, and my childish crush when I was sixteen had turned to a low-burning flame, simmering beneath my icy exterior, ready to spring forth as soon as it was unleashed. I had been unaware that the flame still lived, until that exact moment, staring into Mamoru's eyes, and suddenly there was no space between us, and I could never be sure who moved first, but suddenly our lips were pressed together, and his eyes were closing, and we pressed against one another, kissing otherwise chastely.

"Takatori-sama!" A feminine voice from the doorway sounds outraged, and Mamoru yanks away from me, ashamed that he's been caught like that. "Rex. Please, I'd like to introduce you to my bodyguard, Nagi." His voice is cool and steady, a complete lie to the heat in his face and eyes.

She scowls at us. "The same Nagi from Schwarz?" she demands petulantly, and already I find myself irritated with her.

Mamoru stands, suddenly imposing. "Schwarz is no more. You know that as well as I do." She looksd properly chastised, and bows to me, unfriendliness emanating out of every pore.

"Please protect him well." she forces out stiffly, and I can hear thinly veiled undertones of attraction to my new boss, and more than likely, jealousy towads the position she'd found us in. I nod, and give a sidelong glance towards Mamoru. When I look back towards Rex, my voice is firm, my resolution hardened.

"I will protect him with my life."

(owari)
EDIT: OMFG. THIS. SUCKS. I had to re-write it almost entirely to get rid of a horrible problem in POV switching that I apparently couldn't be bothered with fixing when I wrote it.