Ch. 13: "Two Hunters"

Notes: Yes, I know the series ended differently. But you know me, I always gotta tweak the story line... =pp so I guess this is kinda AU. I mess a lot with the concept of the story. ^.^; Those with weak stomachs, don't proceed. *Sweatdrop*
Disclaimer: WK does not belong to me. Neither do the lyrics that proceed each chapter- they're taken from various songs from the "Queen of the Damned" soundtrack. Don't sue. =pp

You fear them finding
Always whining
Take my hand now
Be alive

Aya took one look at the cool look on Nagi's face and the American's sudden glare and turned to face the rest of the customers.
"Business is closed for today," he said smoothly.
"Please come back tomorrow," Ken said quickly, forcing a smile as the girls looked nervously at the men. "Sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your business."
The girls murmured a little, then reluctantly drifted out. Yohji and Aya were glancing suspiciously from Nagi to the tall blond man, obviously not trusting either of them. Omi walked quickly over to the young assassin and stood behind him, looking very uncomfortable. Nagi flicked Ken a knowing glance before turning emotionless eyes on Aya. "I'm not here to fight you, Weiß. Crawford saw this coming and sent me here. This man is as much an enemy to Schwarz as to you." He returned to glaring coolly at the stranger. "Get out, Hunter. You won't find what you're looking for here."
"This is none of your business, boy," the blond man growled. "Go back to minding your little Vampire lover's club before I decide to take care of you now."
Nagi's smile was small and chilling. "Take care of me?" he murmured in dry amusement. He lifted a hand, and the man crashed backwards into the counter with a grunt. Ken jumped.
"Oi-!" Yohji protested, eyes wide. He reached for his watch, and Nagi turned a sharp gaze on him, prepared to hurl him across the shop.
That was when Omi made his mistake.
"Dame, Nagi," he gasped, and seized the slender boy's arm. Nagi hesitated, then turned his gaze scornfully away from Yohji. "Keep your fishing line in its case, Balinese," he said quietly. "I'm only here for him." He jerked his chin towards the American, who was picking his way painfully to his feet.
Ken was staring at the two young assassins with wide eyes.
Either he was completely nuts or.... No. Impossible. ...But..
It wasn't just the familiar way Omi had treated their enemy- grabbing him and beseeching him to stop without any thought of his own safety. It was the fact that Nagi listened to him. In fact, Scwarz's Prodigy was acting awful familiar with Omi; ever since he had walked in the door. Almost as if they were..
Friends. Especially after that "I told you not to come here" comment.
Of course Aya, who was about as sensitive as a brick sometimes, didn't seem to notice; and Yohji was too busy scowling darkly at the dark haired teenager. So Ken kept his questions to himself.
"Who is he?" Omi asked, glancing towards the stranger.
"A Hunter," Nagi answered calmly. "A Vampire Hunter." He flicked Ken a sidelong glance from under his lashes. Ken's hand flew instinctively to the ribbon around his neck. "He must think Siberian is going to Turn after getting bitten."
"So he isn't a vampire?" Yohji demanded.
Nagi levelled him with a insolent look. "Obviously."
"Why you little br-"
Nagi was ignoring him. "Get out," he ordered the Hunter once again. "Or I can throw you out. And down the street, coinsidentally. Pick- one or the other."
"This isn't over," the man growled, obviously fuming. He turned sharply and stalked out the back door.
"Now," Aya said in a firm voice, turning his death glare on Nagi. "What are you doing here?"
"Cleaning up a mess," Nagi said airily, reaching up to brush his bangs from his face with slender fingers. He glanced casually towards Omi. "I need to get back and meet up with Crawford and the others. He sent me here because he had a vision that you would have some company." He paused. "You're welcome, by the way."
Yohji scowled at him. "And just why would Schwarz go out of their way to 'help' us?"
Nagi smiled patiently at him, a tiny smile that did not reach his eyes. "All in good time, Balinese. You'll soon find out." He reached up almost absently to pat Omi's cheek as he turned to go. "Ja." Omi flushed, reaching up to touch his cheek as the young boy walked calmly out. Yohji and Aya watched the assassin leave, but Ken was watching Omi.
Curiouser and curiouser...


"Saa... I thought we were supposed to be 'attacked'," Schuldich sighed as he walked down the street slightly behind Crawford, hands behind his head. He had discarded his green trenchcoat- it was too warm -and was wearing tight jeans and a patterned tanktop. He'd pulled his hair up in a sloppy ponytail to get it off his neck. Farfarello walked beside him, saying nothing. "I don't see why we can't take the car."
"It's not a long walk," Crawford said unmercifully, without looking back at him. "And I would rather this take place in the open so we can get a good look at our attacker."
"Feh..." Schuldich rolled his eyes. "You do know that Farf's scaring everyone to the other side of the road-- We get the sidewalk to ourselves. I'm so honored."
"That's enough, Schuldich."
"What, you don't like my commentary?"
"I said enough."
Schuldich scowled slightly, then glanced casually towards the hedges lining the side of the sidewalk. I hear someone.
Crawford's stride did not falter. An enemy?
Whoever it is, they seem to be concentrating mostly on Farf. They're mustering up their courage, I think. The German snickered quietly. Farfarello didn't respond. Curious, Schuldich brushed against the younger man's mind. Ch'.. he sent the thought to Crawford alone. Seems like Farfie's thinking about his little 'angel' again.
Crawford glanced over his shoulder at Farfarello, studying him. Is he planning to kill him?
I don't think so. He wants to 'play' with him. Schuldich lowered a hand to scratch at the side of his nose. I don't think he wants to hurt him too bad; he seems to find Siberian interesting.
You had better hope that little conversation earlier about your libido didn't give him ideas, Crawford said ominously.
Schuldich made a face. Now that's just sick. Thanks for the mental image, old buddy old pal. He paused. I think they're about to come out now.
A moment later there was a rustle in the bushes, a muttered "Ow!", then their "attacker" jumped onto the sidewalk in front of them. The three men of Schwarz came to a halt and stared at their confronter with unimpressed expressions.
It was a woman, and she couldn't be any older than Schuldich. She was also black- most likely not from Tokyo. Her curly hair was pulled up on top of her hair and she was wearing black denim shorts and a tight black t-shirt. She was weilding a stun gun threateningly. "Stop right there, Schwarz," she snapped in harshly accented Japanese.
Not bad, Schuldich observed, looking her up and down.
Enough. Crawford offered the young woman a bland look. "Move aside."
"Hand over the Irishman," the woman ordered, pointing her weapon at him commandingly.
A Hunter, Schuldich said with mild amusement, glimpsing the customary tattoo on her arm. That explains why she wants Farf. Think we should give her to him? He grinned unpleasantly.
"I don't think so," Crawford told the woman, ignoring Schuldich. "Now move."
The woman glanced over them hastily. "And what if I don't?" she demanded. "You don't have your little telekinetic with you- you think you can stop me?" She glared at him. "Move or I'll use this."
Crawford's voice flowed into English easily. "I'll tell you to move one more time." The woman switched to English as well. "And I'm tellin' you, motherfucker," the woman snapped, obviously peeved, "if you don't hand over that man-"
"Move," Crawford murmured.
Ah, a man of his word, Schuldich sniggered, even as he darted forward.
The Hunter gasped as her weapon was ripped from her grasp and tossed carelessly into the street. Schuldich slipped behind her with his inhuman speed and seized her in a tight headlock. She gurgled and seized his arms, trying desperately to wrench away.
"What a cute little American," Schuldich tutted. "Are all of you this bull-headed?" he asked Crawford.
Crawford flicked the woman a dispassionate glance and walked around them. Farfarello followed, staring at the woman with a glittering golden eye. She quailed slightly at his gaze, shrinking against Schuldich.
"Now," Schuldich mused, "what should I do with you...?" He sniffed at her hair, grinning as she flinched in revulsion. "You're too pretty for this line of work, ojousan. You should-"
She drove her heel back into his shin. Hard.
"FUCK!" Schuldich winced, hissing in pain. He leaned back, tightening his grip and lifting her slightly from the ground. She gasped for air and struggled wildly. "Bitch," he growled, slowly tightening his hold. After a few moments she stopped thrashing and went limp. He lowered her unconscious form onto the ground and crouched by her side, rummaging through her pockets. He found her wallet and opened it, tugging her Ohio driver's license out of the way and squinting at the Hunter license concealed beneath it. When he'd memorized the information on it he tossed the wallet into the bushes and rose, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling nonchalantly down the empty sidewalk.
He caught up with his teammates where they were waiting by a streetsign.
"Well?" Crawford asked as soon as Schuldich reached them.
"She's just a rookie with a grade C license," Schuldich said with a shrug. "As if that wasn't painfully obvious already. "Tatiana Williams, 21 years old. She got the license in Atlanta, Georgia. They're sending them in from the states, now; I guess the bloodsuckers around here killed all the good ones Tokyo had to offer, so they're dragging Americans into it." He jerked his head to indicate the way he had come. "Left her back there. She's taking a nice little nap; she's gonna wake up with one hell of a headache though." He scowled, leaning over to rub at his bruised shin. "The bitch kicked me."
Crawford gave a small, amused smile. Farfarello bared his teeth in his version of an unholy grin. Schuldich glared at them. "Oh, yes, very funny. Everybody gang up on the poor, injured German. Bastards."
"Why didn't you kill her?"
"Not enough pretty girls in the world, I guess," Schuldich said lightly, eyes dancing with cruel mirth. "Besides, she's pretty spunky. It'd be fun to run into her again..."
Crawford actually rolled his eyes. "Put your libido in check for one day, at least," he said in mild disgust. "Let's go. Nagi should meet us at the office."
"Prude," Schuldich accused, falling in behind the American once more as the three of them continued on their way.


Nagi was waiting for them when they stepped out of the elevator of Hashikata's building onto the floor where his main office was.
The young boy rose calmly from where he'd been sitting on one of the couches in the lounge, dropping the magazine he'd been browsing onto the endtable. "I just got here five minutes ago," he said, waiting as they walked over to join him. "You were right- there was someone at the shop. A Hunter."
"Surprise surprise," Schuldich said drolly. "We ran into one ourselves- cute little American girl."
"Lucky you," Nagi said sarcastically. "This one was a male; very tall, and very sure of himself. He might be a problem."
"We've dealt with worse," Schuldich replied with an unconcerned shrug. Nagi didn't comment.
Crawford led the way to the desk where the secretary was watching them expectantly. She rose to her feet, gesturing to the door off to the side of her uncluttered desk. "Hashikata-san has been expecting you. This way, please. I'll announce that you're here."
They trooped after her as she went up to the door and rapped on it smartly. After a moment she opened it and popped her head inside. "Sir? Schwarz is.. Oh. I'm sorry, sir. Yes. All right." She retreated and closed the door, turning to face the four men behind her. "I'm sorry, Hashikata-san is in the middle of an important phone call right now. Please have a seat."
Crawford inclined his head silently and they returned to the chairs in the lounge. Schuldich.
Schuldich glanced up at him casually, toying with a long strand of hair.
Who is he talking to?
Schuldich's gaze went slightly unfocused as he brushed against their employer's mind lazily. After a moment a frown twitched at his face, then his eyes widened slightly and he looked sharply at Crawford. Nagi and Farfarello looked at him, noting his sudden agitation.
The Third, Schuldich said shortly, rubbing absently at his arm as if trying to scrub himself clean of something dirty. Something about Agemmedo.
Crawford's eyebrows drew together. Agemmedo? They're moving fast.
Rosenkreuz sure has a nerve, calling Hashikata when we were supposed to be here. Schuldich's smile was tight. That's risky.
They know nothing of our plans, Crawford said confidently, reaching for a magazine.
What about the Fourth?
Have you felt him?
Schuldich scowled at the other man. I can't feel him, Crawford. That's what's got me worried. His Talent is more advanced than mine.
You, worried? Nagi smiled slightly.
Schuldich flicked him an irritated glance.
Never mind, Crawford said with a slight shrug, flipping idly through the magazine. Nothing changes. Things go according to plan.
You really think we can trust her? Nagi asked dubiously. Farfarello bared his teeth slightly.
I trust no one, Crawford responded coolly without looking up. But if things go wrong with that woman, we'll take our own path.
Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer, right? Schuldich quoted with a sneer.
Everyone is an enemy, Schuldich, Crawford informed him. Assassins don't need 'friends'.
Sou ka, Schuldich agreed lightly. Nagi glanced away with a slight frown.
Farfarello watched them all out of the corner of his eye and remained silent.

Author's Notes: Amiko obviously knows very little about Rosenkreuz. -_- Forgive me if I take liberties, such as referring to them as numbers. bleh.

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