The Saddest Song
By: Aerys Krystie.
Theme: AU, Crossover.
Plot: A European band is touring Japan. Schwarz is sent to assassinate them, Weiß to protect them. Who will win?
Warnings: Yaoi, sexual content, language, slight angst, death.
Disclaimer: The characters of D.N.Angel and Weiß Kreuz do not belong to me. I make no profit from this story.
A/N: A revision of the original, thanks to me finally reading Roxie's Beta'd chapters. Thank you for that.
"They're a band!"
Bradley raised an eyebrow, staring at the telepath. True, that was just about all the information they had on their targets. It still didn't change the fact it was a job, and they were going to do it.
"Yes, they are a band."
Schuldig rolled his eyes. Being told they were to assassinate a band, in his eyes, did not classify as a job. They were a band. That's all there was to it. Massen Genozid was, by far, one of the most popular bands in Europe. Having to assassinate them because they were too popular was just archiac. It actually made him wonder what old geezer decided on this.
And to make matters even more peachy, they were one of Schuldig's favorite bands. He had been following them since they first sang "Das Traurigste Lied" in a pub, where they were discovered. Probably due to the record company, they song had changed slightly over the last year, but it was still the same as when they first sang it.
With a sigh of defeat, Schuldig threw his hands in the air. "At least we'll be able to kill them at a concert. It's something to look forward to."
"That may be a little difficult to do, Schuldig," Crawford stated. "Apparently, Kritiker knows about Estet wanting to kill them, so they have assigned –"
"Oh, fuck me! Not them!" Schuldig groaned. "They are the luckiest toss-pots I know!"
Nagi tried not to smile at the nickname Schuldig gave to the white assassins, and instead cleared his throat. "Yes, them. Massen Genozid will be under constant, twenty-four hour protection. Mainly from deranged fans wanting to see them and the press."
"Which is why – Farf! Stop that!"
Three sets of eyes turned to the Irish man, who was hacking at the arm of an Italian leather sofa with one of his many knives. He grumbled, putting his knife away and slouching, with his arms crossed over his chest. Schuldig smirked, while Crawford glared and Nagi chewed his lower lip.
Which is why you and Nagi are going to be accompanying them backstage throughout their tour. And be sure to remember, it is only two of the band members, not the whole band. Do not get trigger happy. Are we clear?" Crawford looked from Schuldig to Nagi and back again.
Schuldig stood from the sofa he sat on, bowing slightly. "Ja, Meister," he said mockingly, going to the front hall, pulling on his jacket and leaving.
"It's a band!"
Manx glared at Yohji. She did not want to explain, for a third time, why they had to protect the band. It was their job, as part of Kritiker, to protect innocents. And it was her job to make sure they did it correctly.
"They are in danger of being assassinated, for the simple fact that they are too popular. Will you allow these people to be murdered because you feel they are not worth protecting?"
Aya narrowed his eyes at Manx's words. "We do not think that. They will have all the security they need. Why would they need us as well?"
Manx glanced at Aya. "They people being sent to assassinate them are –"
"Oh, fuck me! Not them! Anyone but them!" Yohji groaned. "They are the most inconsiderate fucktards that I know!"
Manx closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on and didn't want to deal with this. Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking around the group, searching for an answer without having to ask the question. They all stared back at her, waiting for the question.
"Will you or will you not protect Massen Genozid?" she demanded through clenched teeth.
"We will," Omi said as he stood from the chair. He ignored everyone's eyes that were on him. "We are Weiß, and we will do everything in our power to stop those people from being killed."
Manx inclined her head curtly, gathering the files she brought with her. "They arrive in two hours. They have been informed that four of Japan's best body guards will be protecting, along with their own." She sighed to herself. "Meet them at the airport. That is all."
"When is this bird going to land?"
Dark looked over the top of the magazine he was reading, seeing his younger brother standing in the aisle, rubbing his lower back. He smiled, shaking his head. Krad always had been the most energentic out of them. Sitting still for more than hour was just pure torture to the blond.
Krad stretched his arms above his head, bent down and touched his toes and ended with bending back. He made a pleasured purr in the back of his throat as his back cracked. He looked at his older brother when a paper cup hit his abdomen.
"Real mature, Dark," Krad teased as he straightened.
"Sit down, Krad. You'll get into trouble." Dark tried not to laugh as Krad grumbled, but sat down again.
Over the intercom, the captain's voice came through, asking them to put their seats in the upright position, fasten their seatbelts as they would be landing in twenty minutes. Everone aboard did as requestions. Dark went back to reading his magazine. Heinrich continued playing his hand-held game. Karl went back to sleep and Krad hummed one of their songs.
When the plane came to a halt, Krad jumped up and ran to the door. Heinrich followed, while Dark woke Karl. They waited for the stewardess to open the door and desended the flight of stairs. None of them were surprised to see a screaming mob waiting for them. They walked past, smiling and signing magazines, CD covers, jackets and underwear.
When they entered the airport terminal, the band paused momentarily as the flashes from the cameras blinded them. Ignoring the media and all the questions fired at them, they proceeded to collect their baggage, continued on their way. Their manager had stressed the "no speaking to the press" point.
They left the building, heading towards the black limousine waiting for them. They threw their suitcases into the trunk and climbed into the car, arguing over who got a window seat. One by one, they quietened down, staring at the other four occupants.
"Do we have the wrong car?" Dark asked, looking at the other four people, who had already claimed the window seats.
Omi cleared his throat. His German wasn't the best, but he was determined to make sure they had an understanding. "Um...Nein. Wir sind...No, no. Wir sind deine Viehstöße," he finally stuttered out with a confident smile, which he lost due to the vacant stares he got from the muscians.
"Give him credit for trying," Heinrich muttered under his breath. "We speak English, buddy."
Omi looked relieved and turned to his teammates. "They speak English," he said in Japanese. The other three nodded. "Okay. I'm Omi, the redhead is Aya, the blond is Yohji and the brunette is Ken. Could someone tell me what I said before?"
"Mm, you said you were going to be our cattle prods." Dark stared at Ken. "I want the window seat!"
"Oh, hell no!" Karl exclaimed. "You had a window seat on the plane. It's my turn!"
Weiß stared as the band members fought. They found it hard to believe that a group like this was popular when they argued over the most trivial things. Omi tilted his head to the side. This could be a lot more work than he anticipated. He wasn't expecting the band to be so childish.
"Excuse me?" Omi watched as the four foreigners fell silent again. "We have taken the window seats to ensure maximum protection. If there is a sniper, they will attempt a killshot through a window. If they do, we will be there to take it."
The band members raised an eyebrow in unison, but shrugged and took a seat beside one of the protectors. Omi closed the door and the engine purred to life. In a matter of seconds, they were on their way to the hotel. The muscians spoke non-stop, pointing out the window and laughing. They acted like they didn't have a care in the world.
Schuldig paced the length of the rooftop he and Nagi were currently positioned on, sighing. He was finding this assignment to be very boring. Nagi was doing all the work, gathering information they could use. Schuldig had become bored minutes after they set up and was giving consideration to crashing a car or something along those lines.
He walked over to where Nagi was, sitting beside the Japanese boy. He kicked his legs out in front of him and rested his back against an antenna. "Okay, so who am I going to 'befriend'? Gott, that leaves a foul aftertaste in my mouth."
Without looking up from his laptop, Nagi handed Schuldig a photo. "Krad."
Schuldig raised an eyebrow, not looking impressed. "And you get the cute one? I'm failing to see how this is fair."
Nagi finally looked up at Schuldig, smirking. Suddenly, he didn't that innocent. "Because you're not Dark's type."
"Is that so? And I'm guessing that I'm Krad's type?"
"Yep. You see, on Massen Genozid's webpage, it has their biographies and what they find attractive in a person. Dark likes dark hair and eyes. Krad has always had a thing for green eyes and an arrogant attitude," Nagi explained as he brought up the pages he was talking about.
"Dark and Krad Mousy? They're brothers?"
"Twins, to be exact. Dark is older by two minutes. He –"
"I get the younger one, huh? I guess I can live with that. Not that I – Hey!"
Nagi looked up from the screen. "What?" He followed Schuldig's eyes and saw that Dark was looking right at them. "Can he see us?"
Schuldig stared at Dark, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, fuck me! This is ridiculous!"
Nagi blinked at Schuldig. It seemed obvious the German couldn't get into the muscian's mind, judging by the colorful stream of words flowing out of his mouth. When Schuldig had calmed down, Nagi enquired as to what went wrong. What Schuldig said did not make matters any better.
"He's a Natural."
Nagi's mouth fell open. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I-I thought they didn't exist!"
"They're rare. And it's the reason why Estet wants them dead." Schuldig sighed, staring at Dark.
Okies! Not taking that much more of a different turn from the original, but as I said, being revised, not rewritten. Helpful feedback would be wonderful. And once again, Roxie Faye, thank you so much for you help! I love you, dear!
:Beat of the rising sun, beat of the rising sun
You gotta feel the dance, its always in your heart: