(no subject)
Title Obsession: Korean Grills and Baby Blue Stockings
Rating R
Characters Schuldig, Farfarello, Tot
Summary Upon taking Farfarello out for lunch, Schuldig encounters a voice he did not expect to hear.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
It was the middle of the afternoon, sun high in the sky, a light breeze ruffling the trees. Takatori did not require their presence for the day, so Schuldig had decided to take Farfarello for a drive. They were currently driving through the Harajuku district, as Schuldig enjoyed the outlandish outfits. He had the windows down and music blasting (some crazy industrial stuff he could barely make out the words to) and was enjoying the scenery quite a lot. Farfarello was fairly silent beside him, which suited Schuldig just fine. The calmer the Irishman, the better. Schuldig thought back to Schwarz's humble beginnings, and the trial and error process he and Crawford had endured in order to understand how best to deal with their demonic counterpart. Amusingly enough Schuldig had been the one to discover that long car rides seemed to soothe his hectic personality. Farfarello was kind of like a dog.
While stopped at a red light he looked to the side, eyes on the Irishman. Farfarello seemed to be intensely focused on something outside his window. Instead of asking, Schuldig followed his gaze, and found his eyes falling on two nuns. Without breaking from his line of sight, he reached down to lock the passenger side door. The last thing he needed was a blood bath in the middle of the city.
Are you hungry? He shot at his partner, feeling the beginning rumbles of hunger in his own stomach. He'd gotten up too late to bum breakfast off either of his teammates, and subsequently hadn't bothered making himself anything. He enjoyed eating out.
That depends on where you'd prefer to eat, Farfarello answered, his eyes still drawn to the sidewalks.
Probably something meaty, maybe that Korean barbeque place two blocks away.
That would be agreeable.
Schuldig grinned, wondering if he was tempting fate by taking Farfarello out for lunch in public. He was sure nothing horrible was going to happen, otherwise he'd have heard from Crawford by now. Korean it is!
He pulled off the main street, driving around until he found a decent parking spot. He never bothered locking his doors - he considered it a fun game trying to track down whoever chose to steal his car. It had unfortunately only happened once so far, and it had taken him two hours of searching before finding the culprit. Three seconds and one bullet were all it had taken to end the game.
It was a short walk to the restaurant, and Schuldig made sure to keep track of every mind around him. The only downside to bringing Farfarello into the district was the potential for trouble from outside sources. There were many amateur fashion photographers who flocked to these streets, and given Farfarello's unique style, Schuldig often found himself having to redirect that attention elsewhere. It would not do to have their picture wind up in someone's coffee table book of photography.
Once inside they were seated right away (though there was a bit of a line already established for the popular restaurant) and Schuldig set about ordering their usual meals. The waitress found them intriguing, and Schuldig had to admit to finding her to be quite interesting as well. Perhaps he'd dig a little deeper and find out where she lived. He was not above making midnight house calls.
Their food arrived soon and both of them discarded the chopsticks brought to their table, instead using the knife and fork Schuldig had also asked for. They could both use chopsticks, but had chosen not to. It actually tended to be safer to give Farfarello a dull steak knife, rather than two pointed sticks, so Schuldig had found out one day.
“Does Crawford trust you again?”
The question caught Schuldig off guard - he'd been busy paying attention to everyone else in the restaurant, and had ignored his teammates thoughts. Not an intelligent thing when you were out with the Irishman. He glanced across the table at Farfarello, dipping into his thoughts. “What do you think?”
“He must,” Farfarello answered, “otherwise he would not allow you to bring me along.”
Schuldig nodded. “Solid reasoning. How's the eel?” He glanced across the table at the Irishman's plate.
Farfarello was quiet for a moment before answering. “Crispy.”
Schuldig grinned and leaned forward, spearing a piece of it with his fork and trying it for himself. As he chewed he once again listened in on the conversations in the restaurant, before allowing his ears to wander outside. Immediately one voice in particular called out to him, a voice he had not been expecting. He finished chewing the stolen piece of eel and swallowed, all the time trying to pinpoint the exact location of that voice.
“What are you listening to?” Farfarello's question caught him off guard. “You have that concentrated look on your face.”
Schuldig focused his sights on the Irishman, dropping the voice momentarily. “Can I trust you to stay here for a little while? No trouble, or you'll be locked up for a week.” He knew it wasn't smart, leaving Farfarello on his own in such a concentrated public place. Maybe everything would be okay, though.
“If anything happens he will blame you, and you will lose the trust you have just regained.”
“You didn't answer my question. I'll be back before you finish your meal. You can have the rest of mine if you're still hungry.” Schuldig focused in on his teammate, his eyes narrowed and his gaze calculating. He knew that what Farfarello said was true. If anything did happen, Crawford would blame him, in the end. But again, if anything were going to happen, he would have been contacted by now with a warning.
“It's your reputation on the line, not mine. I won't leave the restaurant, if that will make you feel better.” He speared another piece of eel before directing his gaze to the tank of live fish near the wall.
Making a hasty decision, Schuldig stood up. “Good enough for me. Be well behaved and maybe I'll bring home a toy for you,” he made for the exit, searching for that one voice again. It didn't take him long to find it. Moving swiftly in the crowd, he made his way towards a store two blocks away. It was fairly crowded, which made it easier for him to stalk his prey without notice. Sweeping his gaze across the room, he saw her. She blended in here, the only place in the world where that was possible. No one took any special notice of her. But she still stood out to him. He moved closer.
“Oh, would daddy buy these for Tot? They will match her new blue dress perfectly!” She held up a pair of baby blue frilled stockings.
Masafumi smiled and patted her arm. “Of course my little Toto, daddy will buy you whatever you desire.”
She flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh thank you, daddy!” She went back to the display of accessories, eyes roaming over them, looking for anything else that would compliment an outfit.
Schuldig hung in the background, watching. It was a strange relationship these two had, he thought. Clearly, this man was not actually her father. Schuldig carefully prodded around in Masafumi's head, careful not to disturb him, searching for a birth date. He found it, but couldn't bring himself to come out of Masafumi's mind just yet. He hunted a little further, looking for memories of the girl he was out with currently.
Not to his surprise, every memory that Schuldig saw felt fake. Even the current ones, from as recent as this morning, felt false when he viewed them. What surprised him even more, though, were the obviously faked ones. Ones from when Tot was a baby. Schuldig knew there was no way Takatori's brother had had the girl for so long. Given his age it was impossible! But that meant that someone had implanted false memories in the man's head. A false trail? Something meant to placate whoever became interested enough to go looking?
Schuldig nearly felt insulted. Clearly, no one had anticipated that he would go looking. Not only did he believe the memories were a lie, but it also strengthened his resolve to search further and figure out the mystery of this strange girl. As tempted as he was to stick around and pry some more, he managed to remember his first priority.
Leaving the store he quickly scanned the crowds of people two blocks away, listening for any frightened thoughts. Hearing nothing to worry him, he took his time walking back, his thoughts on Masafumi and Tot. Strange relationship, strange memories, it was a strange situation. Perhaps he'd take another visit to the mansion and scan the other members of Schreint. He doubted he'd find anything of use, probably more falsified memories and empty emotions towards the girl.
He arrived back at the restaurant, taking a moment to peer inside before entering. Surprise of all surprises, nothing appeared to be amiss, and he saw Farfarello sitting where he'd left him. Schuldig walked into the restaurant and returned to his seat. Farfarello affixed him with an odd sort of stare, and Schuldig immediately went to work, searching through the Irishman's head. He looked down at his plate, seeing that he'd actually been left some of his barbequed ribs. He picked up his fork and was about to stab one when Farfarello spoke.
“I wouldn't eat that if I were you.”
Schuldig frowned and brought the piece of meat up for inspection. It was a finger.
“I believe this is when we leave,” Farfarello stood up, his gaze fixed on his partner.
Schuldig followed suit, reaching out mentally and convincing their waitress that he had already paid, and that it would be in her best interest to put an 'out of order' sign on the men's washroom door. He led Farfarello out of the restaurant, pleased that the Irishman had at least remained clean and somewhat inconspicuous. Now he just hoped that Crawford hadn't seen this in a vision.
“Did you have a nice walk?” Farfarello asked him when they were back in the car.
Schuldig nodded, while changing the CD in the stereo. “Very illuminating,” he responded, before cranking the volume again.
Rating R
Characters Schuldig, Farfarello, Tot
Summary Upon taking Farfarello out for lunch, Schuldig encounters a voice he did not expect to hear.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
It was the middle of the afternoon, sun high in the sky, a light breeze ruffling the trees. Takatori did not require their presence for the day, so Schuldig had decided to take Farfarello for a drive. They were currently driving through the Harajuku district, as Schuldig enjoyed the outlandish outfits. He had the windows down and music blasting (some crazy industrial stuff he could barely make out the words to) and was enjoying the scenery quite a lot. Farfarello was fairly silent beside him, which suited Schuldig just fine. The calmer the Irishman, the better. Schuldig thought back to Schwarz's humble beginnings, and the trial and error process he and Crawford had endured in order to understand how best to deal with their demonic counterpart. Amusingly enough Schuldig had been the one to discover that long car rides seemed to soothe his hectic personality. Farfarello was kind of like a dog.
While stopped at a red light he looked to the side, eyes on the Irishman. Farfarello seemed to be intensely focused on something outside his window. Instead of asking, Schuldig followed his gaze, and found his eyes falling on two nuns. Without breaking from his line of sight, he reached down to lock the passenger side door. The last thing he needed was a blood bath in the middle of the city.
Are you hungry? He shot at his partner, feeling the beginning rumbles of hunger in his own stomach. He'd gotten up too late to bum breakfast off either of his teammates, and subsequently hadn't bothered making himself anything. He enjoyed eating out.
That depends on where you'd prefer to eat, Farfarello answered, his eyes still drawn to the sidewalks.
Probably something meaty, maybe that Korean barbeque place two blocks away.
That would be agreeable.
Schuldig grinned, wondering if he was tempting fate by taking Farfarello out for lunch in public. He was sure nothing horrible was going to happen, otherwise he'd have heard from Crawford by now. Korean it is!
He pulled off the main street, driving around until he found a decent parking spot. He never bothered locking his doors - he considered it a fun game trying to track down whoever chose to steal his car. It had unfortunately only happened once so far, and it had taken him two hours of searching before finding the culprit. Three seconds and one bullet were all it had taken to end the game.
It was a short walk to the restaurant, and Schuldig made sure to keep track of every mind around him. The only downside to bringing Farfarello into the district was the potential for trouble from outside sources. There were many amateur fashion photographers who flocked to these streets, and given Farfarello's unique style, Schuldig often found himself having to redirect that attention elsewhere. It would not do to have their picture wind up in someone's coffee table book of photography.
Once inside they were seated right away (though there was a bit of a line already established for the popular restaurant) and Schuldig set about ordering their usual meals. The waitress found them intriguing, and Schuldig had to admit to finding her to be quite interesting as well. Perhaps he'd dig a little deeper and find out where she lived. He was not above making midnight house calls.
Their food arrived soon and both of them discarded the chopsticks brought to their table, instead using the knife and fork Schuldig had also asked for. They could both use chopsticks, but had chosen not to. It actually tended to be safer to give Farfarello a dull steak knife, rather than two pointed sticks, so Schuldig had found out one day.
“Does Crawford trust you again?”
The question caught Schuldig off guard - he'd been busy paying attention to everyone else in the restaurant, and had ignored his teammates thoughts. Not an intelligent thing when you were out with the Irishman. He glanced across the table at Farfarello, dipping into his thoughts. “What do you think?”
“He must,” Farfarello answered, “otherwise he would not allow you to bring me along.”
Schuldig nodded. “Solid reasoning. How's the eel?” He glanced across the table at the Irishman's plate.
Farfarello was quiet for a moment before answering. “Crispy.”
Schuldig grinned and leaned forward, spearing a piece of it with his fork and trying it for himself. As he chewed he once again listened in on the conversations in the restaurant, before allowing his ears to wander outside. Immediately one voice in particular called out to him, a voice he had not been expecting. He finished chewing the stolen piece of eel and swallowed, all the time trying to pinpoint the exact location of that voice.
“What are you listening to?” Farfarello's question caught him off guard. “You have that concentrated look on your face.”
Schuldig focused his sights on the Irishman, dropping the voice momentarily. “Can I trust you to stay here for a little while? No trouble, or you'll be locked up for a week.” He knew it wasn't smart, leaving Farfarello on his own in such a concentrated public place. Maybe everything would be okay, though.
“If anything happens he will blame you, and you will lose the trust you have just regained.”
“You didn't answer my question. I'll be back before you finish your meal. You can have the rest of mine if you're still hungry.” Schuldig focused in on his teammate, his eyes narrowed and his gaze calculating. He knew that what Farfarello said was true. If anything did happen, Crawford would blame him, in the end. But again, if anything were going to happen, he would have been contacted by now with a warning.
“It's your reputation on the line, not mine. I won't leave the restaurant, if that will make you feel better.” He speared another piece of eel before directing his gaze to the tank of live fish near the wall.
Making a hasty decision, Schuldig stood up. “Good enough for me. Be well behaved and maybe I'll bring home a toy for you,” he made for the exit, searching for that one voice again. It didn't take him long to find it. Moving swiftly in the crowd, he made his way towards a store two blocks away. It was fairly crowded, which made it easier for him to stalk his prey without notice. Sweeping his gaze across the room, he saw her. She blended in here, the only place in the world where that was possible. No one took any special notice of her. But she still stood out to him. He moved closer.
“Oh, would daddy buy these for Tot? They will match her new blue dress perfectly!” She held up a pair of baby blue frilled stockings.
Masafumi smiled and patted her arm. “Of course my little Toto, daddy will buy you whatever you desire.”
She flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh thank you, daddy!” She went back to the display of accessories, eyes roaming over them, looking for anything else that would compliment an outfit.
Schuldig hung in the background, watching. It was a strange relationship these two had, he thought. Clearly, this man was not actually her father. Schuldig carefully prodded around in Masafumi's head, careful not to disturb him, searching for a birth date. He found it, but couldn't bring himself to come out of Masafumi's mind just yet. He hunted a little further, looking for memories of the girl he was out with currently.
Not to his surprise, every memory that Schuldig saw felt fake. Even the current ones, from as recent as this morning, felt false when he viewed them. What surprised him even more, though, were the obviously faked ones. Ones from when Tot was a baby. Schuldig knew there was no way Takatori's brother had had the girl for so long. Given his age it was impossible! But that meant that someone had implanted false memories in the man's head. A false trail? Something meant to placate whoever became interested enough to go looking?
Schuldig nearly felt insulted. Clearly, no one had anticipated that he would go looking. Not only did he believe the memories were a lie, but it also strengthened his resolve to search further and figure out the mystery of this strange girl. As tempted as he was to stick around and pry some more, he managed to remember his first priority.
Leaving the store he quickly scanned the crowds of people two blocks away, listening for any frightened thoughts. Hearing nothing to worry him, he took his time walking back, his thoughts on Masafumi and Tot. Strange relationship, strange memories, it was a strange situation. Perhaps he'd take another visit to the mansion and scan the other members of Schreint. He doubted he'd find anything of use, probably more falsified memories and empty emotions towards the girl.
He arrived back at the restaurant, taking a moment to peer inside before entering. Surprise of all surprises, nothing appeared to be amiss, and he saw Farfarello sitting where he'd left him. Schuldig walked into the restaurant and returned to his seat. Farfarello affixed him with an odd sort of stare, and Schuldig immediately went to work, searching through the Irishman's head. He looked down at his plate, seeing that he'd actually been left some of his barbequed ribs. He picked up his fork and was about to stab one when Farfarello spoke.
“I wouldn't eat that if I were you.”
Schuldig frowned and brought the piece of meat up for inspection. It was a finger.
“I believe this is when we leave,” Farfarello stood up, his gaze fixed on his partner.
Schuldig followed suit, reaching out mentally and convincing their waitress that he had already paid, and that it would be in her best interest to put an 'out of order' sign on the men's washroom door. He led Farfarello out of the restaurant, pleased that the Irishman had at least remained clean and somewhat inconspicuous. Now he just hoped that Crawford hadn't seen this in a vision.
“Did you have a nice walk?” Farfarello asked him when they were back in the car.
Schuldig nodded, while changing the CD in the stereo. “Very illuminating,” he responded, before cranking the volume again.