In a Name
A series of 100-word fictions based on the meaning of Schuldig's name. I find the appelation extremely interesting, and will continue adding to this collection until there is nothing left to say.
Grappling
“Hey, Schu?” Ken rolled over to stare at the back of an orange head.
“Yeah?” The response was muffled by the blankets.
“Why are we here?”
“Uh?” Schuldig struggled to sit up.
“I mean, why are you here? With me?”
“Do you object?” He was too tired for a witty retort.
“No. I’m just…feeling insecure.” He looked down.
A thin smile touched Schuldig’s face as he reached for Ken’s cheek.
“You’re innocent.”
“Yeah,” Ken scoffed bitterly, shoving the hand away. “Whatever.”
Schuldig’s smile blinked out of existence.
“When you’ve been guilty your whole life, you take whatever you can get.”
Relativity
“So, what did you do?”
“What?”
“Your name. They call you guilty. Why?”
“It’s not polite to ask a man his crimes.”
“Shove it. I’m serious.”
Schuldig seemed to choose his words carefully.
“A name isn’t something you give yourself. I can think of a thousand names I’d rather have had.” His frown became mischievous. “For example, I’d rather have Ken.”
Schuldig turned sour as his questing hands were swatted away.
“What? Do you want me to say I’m not?”
“No,” said Ken, his mouth a thin line. “I just want to know if it’s easier when everyone knows it.”
Façade
“Well?”
Schuldig threw a quick glance into the bedroom, then resumed the assault of his eyebrows.
“Well, what?”
Ken sighed dramatically.
“My question. You never answered me.”
Schuldig paused a moment to raise a sculpted eyebrow.
“What question was that?”
“About your name, jackass. I asked you why your name is ‘Schuldig’.”
“Well, why is your name Ken? Why not…Eugene?”
“Do I look like a Eugene?”
Schuldig laughed at Ken’s haughty expression and conceded.
“Right, then.”
The commercial ended and Ken turned back to the television. Schuldig began on his toenails. Suddenly, there came an indignant shout.
“Hey!”
“Hey, what?”
Distance
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Ken said, dropping the groceries in front of the door.
“You? Thinking?”
Ken ignored the jibe.
“About your name.”
“Still? What’s got you so obsessed?”
“I think it’s important.”
“It’s not.” Schuldig began digging through the bags.
“Maybe not to you, but I have to use that name every day.” He snatched a pear from Schuldig’s hand.
“Then call me something simpler. More fitting.” He retook the fruit.
“No, I think Schuldig’s fine.”
Schuldig hid behind his pear - Ken was oblivious - and spoke lightly. “Well, everyone thinks that…”
Ken laughed, like Schuldig knew he would.
Pensivity
“Another question.”
“About my name?” Schuldig guessed with the air of a practiced interviewee.
“Sorta. Your codename.”
“Mastermind?”
“Yeah. Why that? It’s not like you do any planning. Or much of anything at all.”
“It’s a pun.” Schuldig ignored the sarcasm. “Because I read minds.”
“The other guys have pretty accurate names…”
“Does a name have to mean something? What about your codename?”
Ken blushed furiously.
“That’s different, and you know it. But with you…”
Ken trailed off, a strange, ruminative expression on his face. He resumed with a dazed drawl.
“No. You’re right. It doesn’t mean anything at all.”
Impossibilities
"About earlier..." Ken stopped short as he reached the kitchen, only then registering the aroma. "Dinner?" Surprise. "Already?" Confusion. "You?" Astonishment.
"I have to work tonight," Schuldig replied smoothly.
"You mean...?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Do you need...?"
"No."
Schuldig tended his pots silently.
"Have you ever..."
"Don't." Schuldig fixed him with a hard stare. "Don't, Ken."
Ken found himself momentarily stunned by the use of his name, but couldn't help forging onward.
"But you can't just..."
"Yes. I can, and I will. You wanted an answer; you got it."
"You don't mean it," Ken bit out. "Liar."
Schuldig smiled humorlessly.
"Guilty."
Grappling
“Hey, Schu?” Ken rolled over to stare at the back of an orange head.
“Yeah?” The response was muffled by the blankets.
“Why are we here?”
“Uh?” Schuldig struggled to sit up.
“I mean, why are you here? With me?”
“Do you object?” He was too tired for a witty retort.
“No. I’m just…feeling insecure.” He looked down.
A thin smile touched Schuldig’s face as he reached for Ken’s cheek.
“You’re innocent.”
“Yeah,” Ken scoffed bitterly, shoving the hand away. “Whatever.”
Schuldig’s smile blinked out of existence.
“When you’ve been guilty your whole life, you take whatever you can get.”
Relativity
“So, what did you do?”
“What?”
“Your name. They call you guilty. Why?”
“It’s not polite to ask a man his crimes.”
“Shove it. I’m serious.”
Schuldig seemed to choose his words carefully.
“A name isn’t something you give yourself. I can think of a thousand names I’d rather have had.” His frown became mischievous. “For example, I’d rather have Ken.”
Schuldig turned sour as his questing hands were swatted away.
“What? Do you want me to say I’m not?”
“No,” said Ken, his mouth a thin line. “I just want to know if it’s easier when everyone knows it.”
Façade
“Well?”
Schuldig threw a quick glance into the bedroom, then resumed the assault of his eyebrows.
“Well, what?”
Ken sighed dramatically.
“My question. You never answered me.”
Schuldig paused a moment to raise a sculpted eyebrow.
“What question was that?”
“About your name, jackass. I asked you why your name is ‘Schuldig’.”
“Well, why is your name Ken? Why not…Eugene?”
“Do I look like a Eugene?”
Schuldig laughed at Ken’s haughty expression and conceded.
“Right, then.”
The commercial ended and Ken turned back to the television. Schuldig began on his toenails. Suddenly, there came an indignant shout.
“Hey!”
“Hey, what?”
Distance
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Ken said, dropping the groceries in front of the door.
“You? Thinking?”
Ken ignored the jibe.
“About your name.”
“Still? What’s got you so obsessed?”
“I think it’s important.”
“It’s not.” Schuldig began digging through the bags.
“Maybe not to you, but I have to use that name every day.” He snatched a pear from Schuldig’s hand.
“Then call me something simpler. More fitting.” He retook the fruit.
“No, I think Schuldig’s fine.”
Schuldig hid behind his pear - Ken was oblivious - and spoke lightly. “Well, everyone thinks that…”
Ken laughed, like Schuldig knew he would.
Pensivity
“Another question.”
“About my name?” Schuldig guessed with the air of a practiced interviewee.
“Sorta. Your codename.”
“Mastermind?”
“Yeah. Why that? It’s not like you do any planning. Or much of anything at all.”
“It’s a pun.” Schuldig ignored the sarcasm. “Because I read minds.”
“The other guys have pretty accurate names…”
“Does a name have to mean something? What about your codename?”
Ken blushed furiously.
“That’s different, and you know it. But with you…”
Ken trailed off, a strange, ruminative expression on his face. He resumed with a dazed drawl.
“No. You’re right. It doesn’t mean anything at all.”
Impossibilities
"About earlier..." Ken stopped short as he reached the kitchen, only then registering the aroma. "Dinner?" Surprise. "Already?" Confusion. "You?" Astonishment.
"I have to work tonight," Schuldig replied smoothly.
"You mean...?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Do you need...?"
"No."
Schuldig tended his pots silently.
"Have you ever..."
"Don't." Schuldig fixed him with a hard stare. "Don't, Ken."
Ken found himself momentarily stunned by the use of his name, but couldn't help forging onward.
"But you can't just..."
"Yes. I can, and I will. You wanted an answer; you got it."
"You don't mean it," Ken bit out. "Liar."
Schuldig smiled humorlessly.
"Guilty."