Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss. Takehito Koyasu does.
A Black Cat's Meow
Chapter I: The Start of Spring
"Omi, watch out for–"
"Huh?" The light brown haired-young man said. Out of nowhere, a flowerpot fell from a top shelf and hit him on the head with a loud, sickening bonk. Omi gave a loud groan, then crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
"Omi!" Youji shouted, hastily putting down the flowerpot he was holding to rush towards Omi. Ken went to the backroom to get a first aid kit. Meanwhile, Aya stood looming over Omi’s still body, muttering, "Baka."
"You could show a little bit of sympathy, you know," Youji pointedly said to Aya, giving him a slight glare. "He’s hurt, in case you didn’t notice." He carefully turned over the young man onto his back.
Aya knelt beside the injured Omi, gently checking the young blonde boy’s head. "He has a small cut on his head. I don’t think there are any broken bones," he declared, standing up.
"My, aren’t we the doctor now?" Youji retorted. It was Aya’s turn to glare at him.
"Oi, oi! You guys stop it right now! Omi’s hurt and you two are arguing in front of him," Ken scolded them as he re-entered the room, first aid kit in hand.
The two older guys flushed in embarrassment. Ken sounded like he was scolding a bunch of misbehaving schoolboys rather than two grown men. The two glared at Ken, who scowled back.
Omi groaned, stirring slightly. The three quickly turned to him. "Are you all right, Omittchi?" Youji asked in a concerned voice, rudely pushing Ken aside. Ken then glowered at Youji but remained silent.
Omi shook his head slowly and blinked several times as if trying to clear his vision. "Aside from the fact that my head hurts like hell, yeah, I think I’m fine," he responded in a groggy voice. He slowly brushed off the dirt from his hair, wincing as he touched his wound. "That was one heavy flowerpot."
"A’ho," Aya muttered to Omi. Ken and Youji frowned at him, which Aya characteristically ignored. Aya stood up, and continued his work of loading the flowers into their van. Meanwhile, Ken and Youji helped Omi get up. Omi stumbled a little, a bit out of balance because of the hit he took.
It was the start of spring, the time for changes and the time for new beginnings. The day was bright and clear, filled with many possibilities. Everyone was doing something: sleeping, eating, working, studying etc. Spring was the time of awakening, the start of a new life ahead.
The members of the assassination group Weiβ Kreuz was busy loading their van with flowers that they would sell later in the day. Their day always seemed to start this way. They would head to the flower distributor and their greenhouse early in the morning to pick up their goods. After loading them into their van, they would go around the city and nearby towns to sell the flowers. After selling their products, they would spent the day doing other stuff: Omi would go to the nearby university where he’s studying, Ken would coach a kid’s soccer team, Youji would go bar-hopping or flirting with girls while Aya would…well, Aya would just be…Aya. Life for them was as simple as that.
But once Manx or Birman appears with a new mission, their lives take a sudden change. They were no longer the pretty boy flower clerks. No longer do they lead simple, harmless lives. They were now Weiβ Kreuz, White Assassins. Hunters in the darkness.
After cleaning and dressing Omi’s wound, Ken went back to work. As he picked up a bucket of red long- stemmed roses, Ken smiled. Whoever thought of our cover must be some kind of genius, he thought, putting the bucket with a soft thud inside the van. Who would ever think that four harmless-looking flower clerks are really a group of lethal assassins?
Looking up at the cloudless blue sky, Ken silently wished Manx or Birman wouldn’t appear today with Weiβ’s new mission. Pulling his thick jacket closer–it was still cold–Ken paused for a moment to survey his surroundings. The once-bare trees were starting to bud and the songs of birds filled the air. Those who had been dormant were finally awakening. A frown crossed Ken’s handsome features as he remembered on how the group was far from being dormant this past winter. They were being run ragged by the almost continuous missions Manx was giving them. All of them, whether they would admit it or not, are yearning for a break from all that hard work. "Assassins needed to relax and unwind sometimes. After all, we’re just human," Ken muttered out loud to himself.
"I’m afraid you have to forget of unwinding for now, Ken," an amused feminine voice said.
Ken glanced at the owner of the voice in dismay. "Oh, it’s you, Manx," he said in a cheerless voice.
Manx, which was obviously not her real name, along with Birman (also not her real name and currently nowhere to be found) gave Weiβ their missions. Manx was the one more familiar to them. She had long, slightly curly red hair, a shade lighter than Aya’s hair color. She was tall for a woman and she seemed to accentuate that by wearing high heels. She usually wore a little black dress when she comes round to them. She had been working with them ever since they became members of Weiβ and she’s always been very reliable.
Now, standing before Ken, she was wearing a thick fur coat–underneath, of course, is her little black dress. She was once again holding the ubiquitous manila envelope.
"G’ mornin’, Manx!" Youji greeted in his ridiculous–at least in Ken’s opinion–voice. Youji brazenly looked at Manx from head to foot, letting out a low whistle. "The animal-rights activists are going to have your hide as their coat if they ever saw you wearing that fur coat," he remarked, grinning.
Manx raised her eyebrows. "This is a fake fur coat, Youji." She turned to Ken. "Where are the others?"
As if on cue, Omi came out and said, "Ohayou, Manx!" in a cheerful but somewhat subdued voice. Trailing behind him was the stoic-faced Aya Fujimiya.
"What happened to your head, Omi?" Manx asked in a concerned voice when she saw the patch of white on Omi’s head. She gave the other members of Weiβ a dark look.
Omi gave a sheepish laugh. "Oh, well, uh…I sort of got bonked in the head by a flowerpot. Stupid of me, huh?" Omi slightly scratched the patch until Ken hissed for him to stop or Ken will bonk him with his fist.
"What are you doing here, Manx?" Aya asked bluntly. His violet eyes narrowed as he went on. "You rarely show yourself until we’re finished with our flower shop work. What’s so urgent?"
"Please don’t tell me it’s another mission," Omi groaned.
Manx adjusted her coat, pulling it closer. "Well, not exactly." She looked around for a moment, checking if anyone was there. "I’m here to inform you that you are to meet an agent of the European branch of Kritiker and if that meeting goes well, you are to assist this agent."
"European branch? Kritiker? Agent?" Ken echoed, a little confused.
Manx glanced at him sharply. "Kritiker isn’t just limited to Japan, you know. It’s a worldwide organization. We have agents just like you in all over the world," Manx informed him, inadvertently making the former J-leaguer feel like a complete moron.
"So who is this agent?" Youji asked casually.
"Himalayan." Pausing for a moment, Manx took a deep breath. Then, she looked at them straight in the eye when she blurted out, "She’s a Takatori."
Silence followed her words. Youji, who was in the act of pushing up his sunglasses, suddenly dropped it. Omi and Ken was just simply too stunned to speak. Their mouths hung open and their eyes bulged. Aya paled for a moment, then his face reddened with anger.
"Ha, ha," Ken laughed nervously. "For a moment I thought you said, ‘She’s a Takatori.’" Ken gave a surreptitious glance at Aya, who was still red with fury. Ken then none-too-subtly placed himself between Aya and Manx, afraid that Aya, in his rage, would do something unpleasant to Manx.
Manx shook her head. "I made no mistake. Himalayan is a she and she is a Takatori," Manx asserted firmly, keeping her gaze on them. She flicked a quick look at Aya then turned to an obviously bewildered Omi. "She’s your father and Shuuichi’s half-sister,” she informed the youngest Weiβ member.
"Half-sister!?!" Youji cried out. "I thought all Takatoris–except for Omi–are dead?!? What’s going on, Manx?"
"Are you going to meet her or not?" Manx replied instead. She braced herself for the group’s wrath.
"Answer the question first," Youji demanded, ignoring Manx’s answer. He took a step forward, but Ken blocked him with his hand.
She gave Youji her iciest look. "I’m afraid if you want to find out about Himalayan, you’ll have to meet her face to face." She handed to a reluctant Ken the envelope. "In there is the location, time and date of your meeting, should you decide to meet her." Manx emphasized her last six words. "Should you decide that you’re not going to meet her, stay put. You are not to do anything–either involving her or not, without word from Persia and me. If you do not comply with what I have told you, Kritiker will disavow any relationship with you and if necessary, terminate you. Do you understand that?"
"She’s that important? Important enough for you to threaten our lives?" Youji queried Manx in a voice filled with contempt. For the first time in a long, long while, Youji glared at a woman.
She turned her back from them. "You’ll find out soon enough, Youji." Without another word, she left, leaving the group in a bewildered state.
*******
Omi stared at his desk, not paying attention to his professor. His young, impressionable mind was in a dazed whirl.
She’s a Takatori.
Manx’s words echoed back to him with sudden sharpness. A Takatori. One of his blood. His aunt.
Accepting the fact that he was the son of a man like Reiji Takatori and that he was left to die by his own father then rescued and raised by his uncle to kill didn’t come easy to Omi. Until now, it still hurt. It would probably always hurt him.
Despite his outward cheerfulness and friendliness, Omi was often in a melancholic mood when he was alone. Omi had few real friends. He was quite lonely. Sure, he had the three other Weiβ members as company but sometimes he still felt all alone. Ken had his soccer students; Youji had his girls and Aya had…well, Aya had always been the loner in the group.
He still didn’t remember anything about being Mamoru Takatori. He sometimes had flashes of memory, usually about his kidnapping or something about his brothers, both of which were unpleasant. He wanted more, something tangible to prove that he was real, that he was alive, that he existed.
Omi was in the stage of human development where he needed to establish who he really was and what was his niche in this life. And since he had no memory of who he really was, he could never really establish who he really was. Adolescence was a bit hard on Omi. He had to grow up fast; his questions about himself never really answered.
The unexpected revelation that he had an aunt revived his longing to know more about his forgotten and painful past. Perhaps she would know, he mused silently. Perhaps she would help me remember. Maybe she’ll even take this loneliness away from me.
With those thoughts in his mind, Omi tried for the rest of the day to shift his attention to his lessons.
*******
"So are we going to meet her or not?" Ken asked the group over the dinner table. Silence answered his question. He stopped cooking for a while and sat on one chair. "We can’t keep on putting this off, you know. The meeting is scheduled tomorrow morning. We have to decide if we are going to meet her or not," he pointed out. Still another silence from the group.
Aya stared at his glass of water, mind lost in thought. He didn’t like Takatoris–except for Omi perhaps. In fact, he hated them, especially Reiji Takatori. He had been the one responsible for the killing of his parents and of the subsequent coma of his beloved sister, Aya.
His real name was Ran Fujimiya, but ever since the tragic events occurred in his life, he no longer used his real name. He took his sister’s name, wore the earrings he bought for her on the night their parents died so that he wouldn’t forget–will never forget–what Reiji Takatori had done. The earring, the name–they had been his driving force, the one that fueled his will to be what he is right now–an assassin.
His sister was awake now, safely nestled with Sakura Tomoe in a city far away from him. After the battle with Schwartz, the members of Weiβ pretended to be dead, meaning that in that city, they no longer existed; meaning Aya-chan had no idea her older brother was alive.
Aya couldn’t possibly face his sister. He was too tainted, too stained with blood to face her. How would he explain the fact that he, for her sake and for revenge, had become a cold-blooded assassin? That the money used for her treatment had been at the cost of many, although evil lives? No, Aya was better off not knowing he was alive. She and Sakura were innocents. They would not understand and even if they did, Aya would still pretend to be dead.
And now, there was this Kritiker agent who happened to be a Takatori. Reiji’s sister.
"So, Aya," Ken said, breaking through Ran’s thoughts. "Are we going to meet her or not?"
Aya stared at the group for a moment. Despite himself, he found himself suddenly curious about this mysterious Takatori. With a curt nod, he agreed.
*******
The meeting place was a coffee shop just a few blocks away from their apartment. All of them had seen it. Heck, even ate there. It was an unusual place to hold a meeting, especially a meeting of this kind.
The group entered the shop surreptitiously, glancing at the booths. It was very early in the morning, so there were only a few people in the shop. Omi craned his neck to survey the room. Where is she? he wondered. He tried to spot someone that fitted his image of his aunt.
A sudden haughty laughter caught their attention. A flashily dressed young woman in a booth beside them was laughing on the phone. The men exchanged looks. "Don’t tell me that’s her?" Youji whispered in a shocked voice to an uncomfortable Omi.
"Excuse me," a feminine voice said, tapping Ken on his shoulder. They turned to her. She was a brown-haired waitress. "But the person you’re looking for is over there, in the booth near the window." The girl smiled at them. "Please follow me."
The group followed her. Omi let out a sigh, relieved that the woman they were looking for was not that silly-looking girl. They were nearing the booth when his eyes focused on the one sitting there. He couldn’t see the face because a huge newspaper was covering it.
The waitress stopped a feet away from the figure. "Hey, Patti," she called. "They’re here."
All of the members of Weiβ, whether consciously or unconsciously, held their breaths as the figure slowly lowered the newspaper. Then their eyes widened.
The figure sitting on the booth was indeed a girl. She was wearing a dark red baseball cap backwards, her long black hair tied into two low pigtails. She was wearing a blue sleeveless shirt and a pair of jeans. A tawny-colored sweater was tied at her hips. She carefully folded the newspaper then turned to stare at them with gold-green eyes.
The group was astonished. They never expected Himalayan to look like this. She looked so young, so terribly innocent. They were completely taken aback.
The girl turned to the waitress. "Thanks, Hanako," she said in a warm, slightly husky voice, smiling. Her face seemed to glow as she smiled. She lifted an empty cup. "Can I have another one of your super yummy mocha latte? It’s for take-out."
The waitress smiled back at her. "That’s your third cup, Patti." She took the cup and saucer, then headed for the kitchen.
"Oh, don’t forget the croissant!" Himalayan called. She watched the waitress walk away for a moment then turned to the four young men standing in front of her. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you," she suddenly said to Youji.
"Huh?" Youji asked, surprised by her comment.
She thrust her jaw towards the kitchen. "Hanako’s already married and two months pregnant. Her husband wouldn’t take it kindly if you hit on her," she warned in a slightly amused voice.
"But I wasn’t–" Youji started to say, then blushed when Himalayan gave him a steady stare.
She looked at her watch. "Let’s wait for Manx to arrive. Why don’t you sit down? You’re blocking the customers’ way." She looked puzzled when they tried to squeeze themselves on the other side of the booth. "What are you doing?" She patted the seat beside her. "You four can’t possibly fit in that booth. Why can’t the one with light brown ha–no not you," she said as Youji stood up. "I mean the younger light brown-haired, sit beside me."
Swallowing hard, Omi stood up. Now that he finally saw her, he felt all his strength draining from him. Then he heard her laugh in a rich, warm voice. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you. Takatoris don’t eat people."
"No, they only destroy them," Aya said in a tight voice, suddenly angry, violet eyes hardening like chips of ice.
She looked at him. Their eyes met, Aya’s violet one’s clashing with Himalayan’s gold-green ones. "Aye, we certainly do," she replied in a firm voice. Then she turned to Omi, who stood nervously beside her. "Sit down or you’ll tire yourself." Omi took his seat reluctantly, aware of the tension in the air.
"And you feel no problem about it? Of your family destroying lives?" Aya asked in the same angry voice.
She thought for a moment, tugging at one pigtail, a movement that further irritated Aya. "Yes, I do have problems–doubts on how my paternal side of the family destroy lives."
"Then why don’t you do something about it?"
"How can I? Reiji-niisan’s dead, courtesy of you. How can I do something about something that’s dead?" She gave Aya a penetrating look.
So she knows I killed Reiji, Aya said to himself. Aya tried to find out some fault in her argument. Seeing her had been a shock to him. He had been fully prepared to meet a sophisticated woman–as his image on what a Takatori woman looked like, but he was nearly undone when he saw a tomboy instead. How can one possibly rant on someone, who looks so damned…well, un-Takatori?
"I disappoint you, don’t I?" she asked Aya. Aya glared at her. "Well, don’t worry. I’m disappointed with you too."
"What do you mean by that?" Aya growled, his anger rising again.
"I thought by this time you’ve already had your fill of Takatori blood." Himalayan crossed her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes.
"Your brother–" Aya started to say but she interrupted, "Which one?"
Gritting his teeth, Aya went on. "Reiji killed my parents. He destroyed our lives."
"Is that why you joined Weiβ, Abyssinian?” she asked him, calling Aya by his code name. “To avenge your parents’ death? To kill all Takatoris?”
"I don’t have to explain to you," Aya retorted coldly, leaping to his feet. The girl was absolutely infuriating!
"Because I’m a damned Takatori?" she supplied, looking up at his looming figure.
"Yes," he hissed.
"You are so narrow-minded," she told him bluntly, shaking her head.
Aya’s turned red with fury, and then his hand went to the hilt of his katana. The three sprang up, ready to stop Aya from doing something he would surely regret. Himalayan merely continued to look at Aya calmly.
"Don’t you even dare touch her, Aya."
Manx’s voice came penetratingly from behind them. She was standing about a foot away from Aya. Aya then felt something cold poke his back. He did not need to be a psychic to figure out that that something cold was the nuzzle of Manx’s gun.
"Manx, put it down. Let him do what he wants," Himalayan said. Manx gave her a sharp glance.
"I don’t need your help," Aya angrily informed her, his violet eyes flashing. Aya then shot Manx a venomous look, which Manx ignored.
"Yeah, I know. But all the same…Manx, put the weapon down. We’re being a little too conspicuous for comfort." Himalayan jerked her head towards the other customers in the shop who was now staring at them.
Aya felt the gun slip away. He gave both the two young women a hard glance, then returned to his seat.
Ken let out an explosive breath. "Wow, that was close."
Manx took a seat beside Omi. "I take it you are not getting along well," she remarked, looking at Aya’s black-as-a-thundercloud face then at the others. Himalayan remained calm. Manx glanced sideways at Himalayan. "So, does this means you’re not going to be working with them?" she asked Himalayan.
Himalayan tipped her head back. "Hmm…I guess could work with the other three but with Abyssinian here, I don’t think so." She ignored the death glare Aya sent her. "He’s too narrow-minded. He may be more than a burden than a help."
"Really?" Aya asked between clenched teeth.
She gave Aya a thoughtful look. "You judge people too easily, without even hearing their side." She glanced at the mirror. "You won’t listen to me if I give suggestions or orders. That’s not really a good thing for both of us and for the mission." Turning to face Aya, Himalayan smiled foppishly. "You don’t like me, Abyssinian. And it’s a well-known fact that it’s hard to work with people who doesn’t like you."
"How very perceptive of you," Aya retorted sarcastically, fists clenching.
Himalayan stood up, startling them. "So instead of wasting my time–time I should be spending on better things, I think I should leave. The only reason I wanted to meet you is to inform you that I’ll be working in your territory. I just can’t go on barging in like some arrogant ass, can I? Niceties should be observed." She picked up a brown duffel bag and was about to leave when Manx grabbed her hand. "Let go, Manx."
Manx shook her head. "No."
"I’m wasting my time here."
"No, you’re not."
She glanced at the members of Weiβ. “I know they’re really good, Manx. But it’s hard working with people who will probably not obey or listen to you.” She smiled apologetically at the three. “You’re nice, really. I kind of like you but I don’t think you’ll be working without your friend here." Ken nodded wordlessly.
"Why don’t you just go?" Aya muttered.
Himalayan’s green eyes flashed. "See, I told you I’m wasting my time," she muttered to Manx. She glared at Aya. "Do you know what my mission is?" she suddenly asked him.
"No, but I have a feeling you’ll tell me," Aya replied coldly.
"A few blocks away from here, there’s a sex club. Now, do you know what their ‘wares’ are? They’re little boys, boys barely out of babyhood–"
"Pedophiles?" Ken gasped, horrified. After all, he taught soccer to little boys. Youji was open-mouthed with shock while Omi’s eyes were bulging.
Himalayan nodded gravely. Aya just continued glaring at her, but Ken noticed he seemed a little shocked himself. "So, I am not about to waste precious time trying to convince you to help–it’s obviously a futile idea–when that time could have been spent to figure out a way to stop an old perverted man from shoving his ding-danged shaft into a helpless, crying kid’s bleeding asshole," she told him in a quiet voice. She then faced Manx. "Goodbye, Manx. I’ll see you quite soon." She swung her duffel bag.
"Wait."
It was Aya. She turned to him, then looked pointedly at the hand clamped on her wrist. Aya also pointedly ignored her unspoken request. "What?"
Aya glanced at the other members. He knew them long enough to know what they were thinking, well, at least most of the time. "We’ll help."
"Will you fully cooperate with me?" she asked him.
"Within reason."
Himalayan gave Aya a dubious look. "Uh, I don’t really know, but it’s worth a try." Then much to Aya’s surprise, she smiled at him.
"Now that that’s been settled, can you please sit down now?" Manx gave Aya a puzzled look. Aya stared daggers at her then released his hold on Himalayan’s wrist. He sat down once again.
Himalayan glanced at him, then at Manx. "I’ll give the details of the mission later afternoon. The coffee shop is getting too crowded for comfort. By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. Ohayou, I’m a Kritiker agent. My name’s Patricia Deschanel. I’m going to work with you for a while."
"Deschanel?" Youji echoed, sounding a little confused. "But aren’t you–"
A wry smile touched Patricia’s lips. "Do you have any idea how many people–Abyssinian aside–want to blow my head off because I happen to be a Takatori?" She adjusted her baseball cap. "I have no intention of dying and using my infamous surname is almost a sure fire way for me to get killed. Believe me, it has happened quite a few times."
"Are you…well, are you really a Takatori?" Omi asked hesitantly, looking at her.
She grinned at Omi, making the young man blush slightly. "In the light of the recent events, yes, unfortunately, I am. And yes, Reiji and Shuuichi Takatori are my half-brothers," she answered. "My mother was our father’s second legal wife."
"How old are you?" Youji asked bluntly.
"Twenty-one years old. Legal age."
"You look younger."
She glanced at her clothes. "Must be how I dress." She then stood up again. "Which reminds me, I have to get going. She waved at Manx. "Ja, Manx. Gotta go!" She smirked at Aya then left, picking up her take-out on the counter then paying her bills.
The group watched her as she swung the duffel bag inside a red Ferrari convertible. Patricia then slid inside the car and drove away.
"That’s a Takatori? That’s Omi’s aunt?" Ken demanded incredulously in a low voice.
"Yes, that’s her. Patricia Deschanel." Manx shook her head. "She hasn’t changed." Then she turned to Aya. "You should think before you move, Aya. That was a foolish thing you’ve done."
Aya did not reply. He was busy assessing his meeting with Patricia. He was usually cool and calm but the girl’s attitude got into his skin. And her eyes…her eyes seemed to see everything. Aya did not like that.
"She seems to be very much experienced in operations like this," Youji observed. "She’s also a good talker."
Manx smiled smugly at them. "Wouldn’t be surprised. She’s been working for Kritiker for nine years."
"Nine years? Then–" Youji paused for a moment, doing a mental subtraction. His eyes widened. "Then she would be twelve or something years old when she joined Kritiker!"
Manx shrugged. "I don’t really know much of the details on how she joined up. You can ask her, if you like."
"We will."
~T.B.C.~
So how was it? Was it some load of crap? do tell...
