Part One: The Stalk Begins
Vain, vain man. I smirk at my reflection, tugging my hair into place -just so- before it looks satisfactory. I take a step back, glancing my figure up and down on the mirror's surface. The jacket and slacks have been discarded, though the yellow headband and sunglasses remain. In place of my usual outfit I have on tight jeans and a snug black t-shirt that is tucked into my pants, covered with a white jacket that goes to midthigh. The jacket remains unbuttoned. It is only there for decoration, of course, as it is eighty-something degrees outside. I look great.
I laugh as I turn away, the sound cold and amused. It is a harsh noise that has made others cringe- I made it that way. I myself don't even remember how my real laugh used to sound. I gave it up a long time ago when I joined Schwarz. I gave up a lot of things when I chose to come- oh, wait. I had no choice.
Ch'. I brush aside the twinge of bitterness easily. I have no regrets about this life and what I do. Playing around with people's minds is so much more fun than just sitting in a corner, and at least this way I enjoy myself as I waver in between sanity and the loony bin. My smirk widens as I think ahead, towards my newest 'job'. Some job. This is going to be pure enjoyment. I let my mind display a picture of my target, Fujimiya Ran, or "Aya", though it is mostly dissipated as soon as I enter the room where Nagi is. At such a short distance, his thoughts are louder than those seeping through me from all of the other workers in this godforsaken building, mingling with mine.
Relief tinges his thoughts. Amusing....Ah, he was afraid I was going to be Crawford. Apparently he just finished all the work I gave him. My smirk widens and my jade eyes slide towards him. Crawford knew when he gave me my portion of the paper work to do that I was going to shove it all off on the telekinetic, but he didn't care. Why should I do something that tedious, if Nagi over there can do it so much faster? That's my logic. He didn't argue when I deposited it on his desk with little more than a smirk and hard pat on the head. He knows better than to argue with *me*.
He's stretched out on the couch, reading something or other- hm, a book on computer networking. I continue across the room, eyes straying to the door. Boring. Doesn't the boy have any taste? If he has free time, he should be out doing something a little more interesting than reading computer codes. The boy is brainwashed, I believe. At least that chunk of a book keeps him occupied and out of mine and Crawford's ways. He's waiting for me to start pestering him, and a bit surprised that I haven't yet. He wants to go back to reading. He's working on memorizing the sequence of codes, and has been doing so for the past hour. It's dry work, to him, and he has a headache. Poor little Nagi.
He can't keep a bit of confusion from his thoughts, though. He finds it odd that I'm dressed in casual clothes, and I know he's watching me as I move. "Where are you going?" he finally asks. The question has been burning in his mind for the past few seconds.
I pause, one hand on the doorframe, and throw him a sultry smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. "How nosy, little bishounen." He frowns at the nickname. He hates it when I call him that, and wishes I would come up with something else. Stupid boy. He should know by now that if he doesn't like something, I'm going to do it. "Don't bother me when I'm working."
A thought with a condescending edge crosses his mind- /You don't know what work is, Schuldich./ I know he doesn't mean for me to hear it, but I do. He knows I did when my smirk quirks. I reach out with a mental hand, rippling through his mind and scattering the sequence he's been ever so carefully working on. A choked cry of pain escapes his young lips and he grabs his head in his hands, burying his face in his book and the couch cushion.
I laugh at him, letting the mocking sound ring in the room. He cringes inwardly at the noise. "It's not my fault that my work is so much fun, bishounen." I lift a hand in farewell and leave the room, leaving Nagi behind to try and piece his mind back together. I know that he will not be able. I twisted them around too much, and I hear his angry thoughts as he returns to page one to start over.
/One day, Schuldich, you're going to get it. Who will be laughing *then*?/
My smirk just widens. What an amusing little boy.
I stand on the opposite side of the street of the Koneko no Sumu Ie, leaning against a light pole. I've been watching this place for the past three days- two to pick out my target and one to pick out the schedule. This is going to be so much fun. Of course, it is going to be a bit of work, too. I already know, from pawing through the man's mind and from watching him, that Fujimiya Aya is going to resist me very strongly. This doesn't bother me, except that I am not here to ruin. I cannot ruin him. Weiß needs to remain a functioning organization in case we need them as our fall men, but I am here to keep them off-balance and to stop them from moving before we need them to. I already know that Aya is the one who will be driving towards an early confrontation, which makes my choice in target more reasonable.
There are hundreds of ways I could go about toying with this man, but I have chosen to do it the way I like best. I am determined to get Fujimiya in my bed- and willing. This way is more fun for me, and more hellish for him.
I push my sunglasses up onto my headband and shove my hands into the pockets of my white jacket. I can probably attribute my good mood to my fun with Nagi this morning. Nothing feels better than screwing around with someone's hard work and making them do it all over again. Then again, maybe I am just in a good mood because my unwitting target has just left the shop. I pried through the little one's- Omi?- mind last night to find out who was going to be where today- and when. Mr. Icicle over there should go on break in a bit.
He is setting a basket on the stand outside the shop, adjusting the plants in it so they don't tangle with each other. He is getting irritated over the girls in the shop. I sift through his mind, smirking to myself. Apparently seeing so many girls, happy and full of life, is a harsh reminder about his own sister who is resting in the hospital a distance away. Poor Aya. I snigger.
He pauses for a moment, glad to be out of the noise of the shop, and spends a bit longer fussing over the plants on the stand. I catch a train of his thoughts- /They're wilting. Stupid passerbys. You don't *touch* a plant's blooms. That kills them. Such a small thing, so obvious, and no one gets it./ I shake my head slightly, amused. Ah, he plays the role of a florist so well.
He tests the soil of the plants and decides that after watering them he will go on his break. I perk up. Good. I watch as he disappears back into the shop, stepping back away from the pole. It wouldn't do for him to see me before I want him to. I don't need him to go very far from the other kittens, just far enough that I have him alone, so when I hear his thought that he'll go out the back way of the shop, I grin. Good.
Cars are coming, but I don't care. I cross the street anyway, listening to tires squeal and horns honk. The drivers lean out their windows to yell curses at me, but I ignore them, my smirk playing on my lips. They can yell all they want. They still stopped for me, and that's what matters. That's the difference between you and me, I think as I sift through their thoughts. *I* wouldn't have stopped.
I only have to wait a few moments before Aya appears. He steps out the back door of the small flower shop, closing the door firmly behind him. Now that he is away from the crowd, away from his team mates, I hear his soft sigh and see some of the tension leave his shoulders. He leans back against the door for a moment, gazing up at the sky.
I still hang back, taking him in. His unique flame-red hair hangs about his face, accenting his stony purple eyes nicely. One would never imagine seeing red and purple twine together so nicely until they saw him. But such pale skin. Doesn't the boy ever sun? Probably not. Not that I care. The paleness of him only heightens his male beauty. I grin in anticipation. My, what a lovely specimen I have chosen for my newest toy.
He turns to go and is now facing me. I am a mere four feet away, my jade eyes as cold as ever, with those traces of condescending amusement in the back of my gaze, my smirk both triumphant and mocking. He halts dead in his tracks, a flurry of surprise flashing across his mind and face before that hard mask clamps in place. Angry eyes narrow at me.
"I'm honored that you would remember me." I rest a hand on my hip, watching him. He shoots a quick glance to the side, briefly wondering if I've brought anyone with me. Anyone in particular, I wonder, and follow the thought. Ah, he remembers that I like working with Farfarello. "He's chained up somewhere," I tell him in a reply to his thoughts.
It jars him for a moment before he remembers that I can read his mind, and he glares at me. "Stay out of my head."
"Why should I do that?" I tilt my head to the side, tone smug. "It's free territory."
"What are you doing here?" he demands of me.
"Standing, I suppose," I answer, enjoying the sharp flare of annoyance at my glib reply. I start towards him. "Ah, look, now I'm walking."
He stands his ground, his thoughts darting towards the katana he keeps inside. A sword in a flower shop. What an interesting place to store it. "Don't think about it," I tell him, pausing two feet away. "Besides, I'm not here to fight."
"Then why did you come here?" He knows I was waiting out here for him. I keep my smirk from getting *too* wide. "If you're not here to fight, then what?"
"Tell me, Aya-kun," and I add the suffix to be derogatory, "have you ever been kissed?"
His flare of anger at the insult is immediately lost when he hears the question. He has no clue how to respond to that question. It is the question at the bottom of the list he would have expected me to ask. I knew it would be. It's good to be right. "What?" he demands flatly, but I already have my answer. I heard it scattered in among his confusion. No. I didn't think so. Another point for me. I always win at my own games.
I reach out, grabbing his chin and pulling him away from the door, closer to me, locking eyes with him. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly before narrowing again and he raises his hand to strike me. I grab his wrist easily, twisting painfully and holding it firm right before the point of snapping. He winces slightly at the pain, though he tries to hide it. It is a warning to him, not to struggle. He has a free hand, but I know he will not use it- he knows that I will break his wrist if he does so. Hate-colored eyes glare up at me.
"I'm going to give you a choice, Aya-kun. You can play along nicely now or later."
"What are you talking about?" he snaps.
Anger has brought color to his cheeks. I smirk down at him. "Do you have any idea how cute you are when you're angry?" I taunt.
A mixture of fury and humiliation rises in him. "Get away from me, Schuldich."
"You don't seem to be in the position to be giving out orders, little Aya-kun." His eyes narrow. I decide to finally shed some light on my reason for coming here. "Do you know why I'm here?" He doesn't reply, just continues to glare at me, willing me to vanish. Ch'. "I have decided I want you, Aya-kun," I tell him, smirk quirking. "I've chosen you for my newest bedmate."
It takes a moment for the words to sink in. "Your *what*?"
I laugh at him. His mind is scrambling to come up with a reason for my behavior. I free my hand from his chin, trailing my fingers across his cheek. He jerks his head away, his hand raising to smack at mine, but I tighten my grip on his wrist. He hisses, eyes closing in pain, and my eyes again look over him. Ahh...Why didn't I notice him much earlier? So pretty. When his eyes open again our gazes lock- his eyes flat and closed off, my eyes intense. Ah, he's retreated behind his mask again, probably unconsciously.
Well, enough looking. I want a taste. I release his wrist. His other hand automatically goes to rub at the injured joint, and I move. I grab his shirt in one hand, pushing him back against the building. He stumbles, off balance from the shove. My face darts in and I close my mouth over his. He goes rigid. Not just stiff, but *rigid*. I nibble at his lips, trying to get him to open them for me, and his mind clicks back into place. He raises his hands to shove at my chest and my face. I ignore the hand on my chest and easily catch the one that went to my head, finally succeeding in opening his mouth.
//Why fight, Aya? It's not doing you any good.//
He struggles a few moments longer as I plunder the sweet recesses of his mouth. Gods, he tastes *good*. I release his shirt, my slender fingers skimming across his shirt in search of a nipple to play with. I find one and he makes a muffled sound of protest. His thoughts have scattered to the four winds and he is now limp beneath me. After a bit I pull back, needing the air as much as he does, but keep my face within a few inches of his. In a moment he will gather his wits and be angry again, but for now I enjoy the sight of a disheveled Aya. His lips are swollen from the force of my kiss, and his expression is cloudy and vacant. I sift through his mind, sniggering inwardly at the confusion there.
"So, Aya," I ask, moving my mouth to his ear and nibbling at the earlobe. "Was it good?"
There is a rush of anger in his mind as he remembers what just happened- and with who. A fist slams into my chest, and I bite down on his ear in response none too gently. "Kisama!" he snarls, shoving at my chest.
I step back, giving him a pleased and amused smirk. "You *liked* it." He aims another punch at me. It is not hard to catch the hand with my speed, and -equally fast- I duck in so that my face is close to his again. A choked sound of surprise rises in his throat as he reflexively backs up, only to come in contact with the wall. "So how about on the next one you cooperate?"
"Bastard! Keep your filthy hands away from me! You and your sick games-"
"This isn't a game," I interrupt smoothly, biting the tip of his nose lightly. "It's a recreation. Thaw out a bit and enjoy yourself." He growls a curse, and again thinks towards his sword, then towards his team mates inside the shop -so close, yet so far. I laugh, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise. "So you're an exhibitionist now, are you?" I taunt. His mask slams down into place. Oh ho, looks like he's noticed anger doesn't work against me. He's retreated because he doesn't know what else to do, doesn't know how to respond to me. "Saa...You can't run from me, Aya." I won't let him run.
I grab his mouth again, more insistantly now, prying his mouth open and invading with my tongue. He stiffens but doesn't fight, and I feel him relax as I work. Ch'. Imagine being twenty-odd years old and not having been kissed yet. And a virgin, no less. Kritiker must have pulled this guy out of a closet far from the light of day. I run my hand under his shirt, carressing at his skin. When I feel him start to respond to my kiss I pull back. Ah, progress. Progress is good.
Loud thoughts clash into mine, almost as loud as Aya's. Someone is nearby, and from the tone of the thoughts it's lanky Kudou. I look back at Aya, who looks torn between anger and a daze, and smirk. Beautiful. I cup his cheek in one hand, tilting his head up so those purple eyes can meet mine. "Until next time, then," I tell him, and flit away. I stop a good distance away, hidden by a dumpster, to watch as Kudou exits the shop, whistling.
The man stops when he sees Aya. He speaks, but I am too far to hear. No matter. I can pick up on his thoughts. Kudou reaches out to touch Aya, and is promptly struck on the hand. Aya whirls around and storms back into the shop, leaving his clueless team mate behind. I can hear the door slam, and laugh.
Run, run, little Aya, all you want. You know you liked it.
I turn around and start away, laughing as I go. Now I'm hungry.