by myka
Arc I – Part 01
Fic Disclaimer: Weiβ isn't mine.
Revised: Jan 2004
Fic beta: naaha


It was supposed to be mindless fun… Just a way to not be bored on a Saturday night. So how come it ends like this?

It never should've begun in the first place.


It was raining that night; the rain was a comfort, a solace. It somehow managed to ease the burning ache in my heart. Because how could a mission so simple end so wrong? The park was desolate, it was pouring at two in the morning after all. The others had chosen to head home; I couldn't, not right now. Now I just needed to breathe the fresh air and feel the cold rain running down my face. I just needed the quiet.

That's when I saw him, out of the corner of my eye. A flash of fiery orange hair just as soaked as mine, he walked with a rushed pace and held something in his arms. A silent rage filled me along with the recognition. He didn't see me.

"Stop!" I ordered him as I reached for my wire. He did; I knew he'd recognized my voice. He started to turn. "Drop it," I said, hands on my watch, gesturing at whatever he had in his. He paused in mid-turn, only his profile visible.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," he said calmly, his voice like a whisper along with a hint of an accent that showed he wasn't speaking his native tongue. He started to crouch down, holding the bundle close. "I said don't move!" I yelled at him.

"I'm putting it on the ground, if that's alright with you," he said it like a question in the same calm tone. None of his body language set off a warning. I kept my mouth shut and he took it as a 'yes.' He placed the bundle gently on the ground and it started crying the second he did so.


He turned around and I had my first glimpse of his sapphire eyes. They were serene and covered with fiery orange wet locks. They were different eyes; they didn't hold the malice and greed I had seen just a few hours ago. "Are you satisfied now?"

His voice was different too…more civil, relaxed. It was hard for me to comprehend that this was the same person. I unconsciously let go of my weapon, letting my arms drop to my sides. He took this as an answer too, and turned his back on me again as he picked up the screaming child. He returned to his rushed pace, getting farther away from me.

I followed him.


I waited outside the hospital doors, leaning against a wall as I kept myself away from the cold rain. I hid my hands inside my pockets, trying unsuccessfully to keep them warm. I didn't have to wait very long. The Schwarz assassin walked out the emergency room empty handed. He glanced at me without any sort of puzzlement on his face; if he wasn't expecting me there his face surely didn't show it. He slowly took a pack of cigarettes out of one of his pockets. He opened it and instantly offered one to me without saying a single word. I took the offering, wondering how he had managed to keep them dry inside a soaked coat. I lit the cigarette in my mouth then did the same for him. We locked eyes for a second.

"You looked depressed, Balinese," he said in a tone still alien to me. "Rough night?"

That was an understatement. I glared at him, not needing to say anything. He nodded his head slightly "Yeah…me too," he added.

I had to ask him. "Why did you do that?" He looked at me now with what I could only recognize as amusement on his face; he laughed. Not the cold laugh I was used too, but something else.

"It really is hard for you to believe that I'm not a heartless bastard," he said with the last indicating tones of laughter in his voice.

"Yes," I answered him quickly, going for blunt honesty when I couldn't think of anything else.

"That wasn't a question," he corrected, as he took a deep mouthful of nicotine into his lungs and breathed it out in a silent sigh. I had almost forgotten during this unusual conversation that the Schwarz redhead was a telepath. Almost…

"You would know, wouldn't you, Mastermind?" He instantly glared at me, and rushed at me unexpectedly. He slammed both hands on the wall on the opposite sides of my head, trapping me in.

"Don't call me that!" he spat at my face. "I hate that name," he hissed.

And just like that, for the first time since I've 'known' him, I saw something real in his eyes…frustration.

The most recurring thing about him I had noticed, about all of Schwarz, was that in each and every encounter we had with them, they always wore the same masks.

We were drawing unwanted attention to ourselves; I needed to calm him down any way possible before someone called security. So I apologized.

"I'm sorry, Schuldig."

Because of all the things I could've done, I knew that was the last one he expected.

I got the reaction I wanted; I confused him. He backed down, inhaling more nicotine in the process, and then looked away. "I have to leave," he said sullenly. "I shouldn't be doing this," he added, more to himself than to me. He looked at me with a hint of the smirk that I've grown to recognize. "Not bad Balinese, it was…different." And with that he was gone, out into the rain. Leaving me alone with a half smoked cigarette that wasn't even my brand.