Weiss Kreuz: Lady Killer 7 -- Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht
by K.Huntsman
released 24 December 1999
Winter.
It started on December twenty-third, Ken's birthday, during the afternoon before a mission.
"Hidaka-san," Akayuki asked quietly, "can you wrap four white roses for me?"
He looked at her quizzically. "Sure. But you usually buy white flowers after...."
She shook her head. "It's not for that. These are for something else."
Ken picked out the four most perfect long-stemmed white roses and wrapped them in cellophane. "Can I ask what?" he inquired, handing them to her, automatically accepting the money she handed to him.
Her blue eyes looked up into his. "No," she said sharply, catching him off-guard with her tone.
"Ken-kun, did you two have a fight?" Omi asked, watching as the black-haired assassin left their shop and went back to her own.
"No... at least, I don't think so," Ken said, his hands smoothing at the sleeves of the soft, warm brown sweater Akayuki had given him earlier as part of his birthday gift. "I don't think I made her mad...."
"Well, you obviously did something," Youji said. "You should find out what and fix it."
"It's not about that," Aya said, looking at them from the poinsettias he was tending. "It's nothing to do with us."
"Oh?" Youji pushed his sunglasses back onto his hair. "Then what is it about, o wise one?"
Aya didn't answer him.
The roses were held in her lap that night as she rode in the passenger seat of Aya's car to the site of the target. He knew she'd chosen to ride with him because he wouldn't question her.
"I got a new box of books in today," she said. "There is one by Thoreau, translated into Japanese. I think you might find it intriguing. He's very philosophical." The books she stocked tended to be of the mind-improving kind. Surprisingly, given the flock of schoolgirls who were the main customers of both Kitten in the House and Magic House, they sold well.
"I'd be interested," he replied, driving carefully against the snow. A year ago at this time they'd been taking down the Pope, rescuing Youji. These were slightly better days.
"Mm..." she said absently. "I'll bring it over to you soon."
He did wonder about Magician and why she had chosen to buy those roses, and why she had brought them with her. Unlike the others, though, he didn't pry.
Hiding behind a girder, Omi held his breath as he watched Akayuki walk to a certain point in the burned-out structure. After they'd finished their mission, she had vanished on the rest of them, the white roses in her arms. He'd managed to find her tracks before they vanished in the snow, and had followed her to here.
She stopped and knelt, unwrapping the roses from their cellophane. One at a time, she placed them on the ground. Then she bowed her head and held her position for a long time. Was she praying? Was she crying? Omi couldn't see.
When she got up and left, he waited a moment until she was well out of sight, then went over to the roses. He knelt beside them and wondered.
The next morning Omi had his answer.
He leaned back in his chair and wished he hadn't found it.
"What're you looking at, Omi?" Ken asked, draping himself across the top of Omi's head.
"I found out what your girlfriend wanted those roses for, Ken-kun," said Omi in a soft voice.
"Oh?" Youji asked, entering the Underworld. "What is it, Omi?"
"Remember how I told you she took them to a burnt-out building and left them there? That used to be her apartment building. It burned down a year ago tonight."
That shocked Ken into stillness, and Youji sucked in his breath. "A memorial for her family, then...."
Ken straightened. "Has anyone seen her come back to the building?"
Three heads shook in the negative, Aya having walked down the stairs in the interim.
The staff flashed. Forward, around, under, out, high kick left, jab, mid-air somersault, run.
Imperfect.
Do it again.
When noon arrived and still Akayuki hadn't returned, Youji was worried. This wasn't like the Magician at all.
"Where could she BE?!" Ken fretted by his side.
"Where does she go?" Youji asked out loud, trying to be logical. What was it Holmes had said? Eliminate the impossible, and whatever left, however improbable, is the truth. "She stays in her rooms." They'd eliminated that earlier with the help of the spare keys she'd given to each of them a while back. --"Just in case."-- "She works at Magic House. She hangs out in the Underworld. She goes on missions, or to the store. She works out on--"
"The roof!"
He and Ken stared at each other for a second, then scrambled to the door of Kitten, racing one another to the stairs and then the roof.
Akayuki was there, collapsed and covered with snow. It still fell onto her in a thick, dizzying swirl, forming a carpet several inches deep. Her half-filled tracks wandered all over the rooftop.
"Why does she have to be so stupid?!" Ken demanded, his voice nearly breaking with worry as he saw that she still breathed.
"Because she's human," Youji replied, lifting the gymnast into his arms. She was light even for her size. "And all humans are idiots...."
Ken wished there was something he could do. Anything. Anything at all except sit and watch as Akayuki burned in a fever, wrapped up in the sheets and blankets of Youji's bed.
They'd pieced together what must have happened. She'd gotten back, somehow snuck back into the building without them knowing, and gone up to the roof. She must have practiced all night, driving herself until the limits of her endurance failed. //Driven by grief,// Ken thought, reaching out a hand to touch her silky black hair as it fanned across the pillow. //Please wake up....//
"Mama," Akayuki mumbled in her fever, "the Christmas tree...."
Ken stared, perplexed. She was Buddhist.
"Omi!" he called into the outer room, where the other three were.
The white lights on the tree were so pretty. She'd tried to hold one once, but it had been flame--
--violet-eyed flame--
--that had burned her. She didn't try to hold it anymore. But the tree still smelled so good, that fresh pine scent filling their apartment. It wasn't very big because Otousan had to carry it up four floors and then back down four after the new year. But it was pretty, filled with lights and delicate glass ornaments and each one had a story. The heavy strands of tinsel--
--heavy strands of wavy brown silk--
--reused year after year, glimmered at her.
Beneath lay piles of packages, wrapped carefully and with love. Eight of them bore her name: four from and four to. The rule was no shaking.
Then there were the candles, white and pure as all lights were doused, and her sister's honeyed voice shone--
--honeyed hair shining in the sun--
--as it sang the sweet heights of the song, the voice which never failed to make her cry, the angel's voice, so talented in comparison to the feats she achieved with her clumsy body. She always did what her twin did, learned the new songs and arias, her voice a mere imitation of that purity, and she was always more and more aware of just how selfish she was, training her body and nothing else, giving nothing back....
--brown eyes smiling at her, as he asked "teach me"--
The scents, the song, the feeling. Home.
Then came the flame and ashes, washing over her like a breath of hot air. Akayuki stood in the shell of her home, helpless to do anything. The flames passed, and at her feet were four white roses. Blood dripped onto them, falling in ruby beads from her hands.
//I'm burnt out. Just like the building. There is nothing left inside of me. No feelings, no good. I have turned away from Buddha, I have stepped off the path....//
//Why do I go on?//
The silent ashes of the building gave her no answer, and it started to snow. Akayuki looked up into the fall of the quiet white flakes and wondered if she would die like this, lost in the snow. She held out a gloved hand and waited until one of the frozen tears fell upon it.
The snowflake rested there, its whiteness startling against the glove's black. It wasn't affected by the poison on the glove, didn't melt from the heat of her touch. The glove protected it from melting on her skin, kept that small purity alive.
She watched it.
//Is this what it means, to be Weiss?//
Akayuki woke from the dream.
She looked at the unfamiliar room around her, the window by her with the blinds half-shut and the closed door to the next room. She tried to raise herself on one arm, but had no strength. Her head hurt and her mouth was dry. Where was she, she wondered as she fell back onto the pillow.
The door opened and Youji came in.
"Kudou-san?" she managed in a hoarse whisper. Her throat hurt too.
His face lit up. "You're awake!" He took the ever-present shades off and hooked them into the v-collar of his sweater. "How do you feel, Magician?"
She shook her head. "Terrible. Where am I?"
"My room. I've got the best bed for convalescents so we stuck you in here." His hand rested on her forehead for a moment as he sat on the bed beside her. "Well, your fever's broken, Kitten. You had us going there for a little bit. KenKen was being impossible until I sent him out to get some things."
She smiled faintly at the pet name the rest of Weiss had for Ken, the one he hated. Now that she knew it was Youji's room she was in, she thought she could smell his scents. Cigarettes and wine and cologne and incense. And... pine? "When is it?"
"Christmas Eve," Youji replied, his eyes odd on hers. "Around eight o'clock."
"Oh," she said, and closed her eyes. She wished she'd slept for longer. Not waking up until the twenty-sixth would have been good.
"Kitten, we all know you're Buddhist," he said, "so why were you talking in your sleep about Christmas?"
"You assume that because I am Buddhist all of my family was," she answered. "We celebrated Christmas because Mama and Kiko were Christian." She opened her eyes and studied him. "You, too."
Youji chuckled lightly, a sound that hid pain, or tried to. "I was raised Christian, yes."
"Then... why aren't you now?" He didn't answer. "Kudou-san...?"
He stood up abruptly, walked to the door. She watched as he locked it, then paced back to her. He sat down on the floor beside the bed, cross-legged. He wasn't looking at her.
"What do you know about me?" he demanded, soft, defensive, hurt.
She considered. "I know about Weiss. And that you're a good person... more loyal than you let on, more dependable. I know that you loved a woman named Asuka, and that you have a tattoo on your left shoulder. I...." She had to stop and swallow to ease the roughness in her throat. "I can see deep pain in your eyes sometimes. You drink, you smoke, and you womanize. Something hurt you a long time ago."
He didn't give a sound for long minutes.
Yuki watched the young man with careful eyes. He was deciding what to tell her of himself. Most likely it would be nothing. But she had made the effort, hadn't she? Extended her hand....
"Why do you want to know?" he finally asked, still not facing her, his voice gentle with just a hint of strain.
"Because I'm your friend," she answered. "Because I want to understand you and help if I can."
Green eyes lit on her for a second, judging, then turned away as Youji began to talk.
He spoke in sharp, quiet sentences, outlining a personal history for her. A child of incest, his sexual abuse and emotional neglect, his gaijin Christian mother's insanity and her final fiery death before his eyes.
Youji didn't look at her as he spat out his life story. "You blame yourself?" she asked, listening to his voice, watching his hand creep to cover the SIN tattoo where it hid beneath his sleeve.
"I am a sinner," he replied, seeming hollow, empty. His past had brought forth that pained void. She almost regretted asking. "I am a sinner, and that is all there is of me."
She freed a hand from the blankets and covered that hand on his left shoulder. "What of it is your fault?" she asked, and then he looked at her, eyes wide open. Cracked. Vulnerable. "Asuka understood that too, didn't she?" Akayuki asked, making the connection. "She knew that you weren't to blame."
He looked away again, at the floor. "She was purity that loved this sinner," he said.
"The rest of Weiss don't know, do they?"
"No. They don't need to." His eyes were hard on hers now. "They won't know."
"Kudou-san, I understand what those scars on your wrists are. How many times have you tried to kill yourself?" He was silent. "Who pulled you back from that edge?" He didn't answer.
"Kudou-san...."
"My name," he said, "is Youji."
Aya listened to Omi humming "Jingle Bells" as they hung ornaments. Youji's living room, usually fairly sparse except for the sofa and entertainment center, now smelled like the small pine they'd wrestled up the steps. Poinsettias from the shop were everywhere, along with lilies and roses and ivy.
Omi plugged in the strings of white lights and the tree lit up. It was very pretty. Aya touched an angel he'd hung, and thought of his sister. She wasn't here for this Christmas.
A crash from the kitchen followed by a curse let them know how well Ken was proceeding with the idea of cooking dinner. The boy stuck his head out of the kitchen door and said, "This is a mess, I have no idea of where Youji puts anything, and are you SURE we can't just order takeout, Omi?"
The younger assassin looked at him serenely. "It wouldn't be the same, Ken-kun."
"Look--" Ken started heatedly when the bedroom door opened and Youji came out, bearing a blanket-wrapped Akayuki in both arms. She stared around her at the decorated, festive room.
"What...?" she breathed. Aya stood, dusting his hands off on his jeans.
"It's our surprise to you!" Omi said. "You kept talking about a Christmas tree, so we went out and found one while you were sleeping."
She stared at them, and the room, and the tree, as Youji settled her down on the leather sofa. "...Why?" she finally asked.
"Because we like you," Ken said, kneeling in front of her, the back of his hand touching her face, fingers brushing loose strands of hair away.
"Because it's Christmas," said Aya.
Akayuki just stared for a few minutes more, then smiled, gave the merest hint of a laugh, and looked back at the four of them with bright, wet eyes. "In which case... Tsukiyono-san, will you fetch something from my apartment for me? I'm not sure I'm up to it yet."
"Sure," Omi agreed. "What is it?"
"Four boxes in the bottom of my closet. You'll recognize the tags."
By the time Omi got back, they had overridden his opinion on the matter and were deep in the middle of deciding what kind of takeout to order. Youji was in favor of Chinese, but Ken wanted pizza. Aya solved the problem for them when Akayuki wouldn't. "Order both?" he asked.
"You can't be serious about having takeout on Christmas Eve!" Omi protested, arranging the four boxes beneath the small tree.
"Well, unless you want to cook dinner for all of us, Omitchi..." Youji said, picking up his phone and starting to dial the numbers of takeouts.
Ken laughed to see Omi sticking his tongue out at Youji's back. Then he looked up at Akayuki, having nestled himself at her feet after getting her a cup of hot chocolate. He'd even tumbled several of the tiny marshmallows Youji'd been hoarding into the mug. "You want to talk about it?"
"About what?" she asked.
"About your family." He studied her, the way her hands tightened the slightest bit on the hot mug. "We know tonight's the anniversary of that fire."
Her lips became a tense line and she looked down into her lap. "So it is," she said, her voice bitter.
Ken took the mug from her and set it on the floor. "Don't make me use the mistletoe on you," he threatened, gesturing towards the tiny piece of greenery resting on the top of Youji's TV.
Omi sat by her left side. "We're your friends, Shirayuki-san."
Aya sat by her right side. "Even if you do do stupid things."
She looked up pleadingly at Youji as he hung up the phone, but he shook his wavy brown locks. "No getting out of it, Kitten. You've got our stories, it's time to tell yours."
"It still hurts, Youji-san."
"So do ours," he replied.
"'Youji-san'?" Ken demanded. "How come he rates as 'Youji' and I'm still 'Hidaka'?!"
Akayuki's eyes flickered to Ken. "Because Youji-san asked me to call him by that name."
Ken looked at Aya and Omi, then told her, gently, "I think we'd all like it if you'd call us by our names."
Akayuki's words spilled out, soft with memory and meaning. "Okaasan did when Kiko and I were born. They just couldn't stop the bleeding. But she had time enough to name us both. She named us for a fairy tale. Have you ever read 'Snow White'? In the beginning, the queen wishes for a child with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and eyes as black as night. Maybe that, as much as anything else, is why I wear the geisha's makeup. But I was named for the red blood on the snow--Akayuki. I was the elder by twenty minutes. My sister was the snow child; she was quiet while I was screaming. So she became Yukiko.
"When I was two, Otousan remarried, and his new wife became mother to Shuuichi-oniisan, Kiko, and myself. I don't remember a time when Mama wasn't there. Kiko always said that she remembered the wedding, but I think she just wanted to. About a year after they married, Mama suggested to Otousan that we be allowed to train our aptitudes to their peak. Shuuichi-oniisan was always drawing, so he was given over to art masters. Kiko was always singing, so she studied voice and music. I was always turning somersaults, so I became a gymnast, with supplementary teaching in dance and martial arts. The three of us became very, very good at what we did.
"Shuuichi-oniisan lived for his painting, his chance to show the world what he saw. I think that he sometimes forgot that other people were real. He never seemed to care about them, anyway. Kiko was different. Voice is a field where you have to work with others. She made friends as easily as breathing. As for me... the only people I knew were my trainers, my teachers, and my family. For me there was nothing but the goal. The thing was, though, I knew how selfish I was being. Art and music... they're studies which are gifts, fields which enlighten other people. Gymnastics isn't. It gives nothing; it is merely one person's success in training their body.
"We always celebrated Christmas together. Mama and Kiko were Christian, after all, though Otousan and I were Buddhist. Shuuichi-oniisan had never decided what he was. But we always had a tree and gifts. Last Christmas Eve, I was away at a special training session to prepare for the judging committee for the Olympics two weeks later. I came home on Christmas morning. By then, there was nothing left of the building except ashes and corpses. Everything I had loved was gone.
"It wasn't a random blaze; the police found distinct proof of arson. The building's owner had taken out a fat insurance policy on it a month before. There wasn't enough proof to do anything, however. Manx found me and offered me a new path, a chance to do something to stop people like the ones who had killed my family. I decided to take my selfish art and do something with it, something for others. Though I know my family would not approve, I can only be myself, and it was the only way I could deal with being alive while they were not."
"Why did you take your sister's name to run Magic House?" Omi asked.
Akayuki searched for the words to explain that. "Kiko... we were identical, but almost nothing alike. We never argued, though. We were complementary, supplementary. So if 'I' became the killer, it would always be 'she' who was not." She shook her head. "It's hard to explain unless you've been a twin, I think. It's that there is always another person who is part of you, understands you like no one else. Even after she died, there was still that feeling, that she was 'here'." Akayuki touched over her heart. "So I let her be." She looked around at the four young men, and smiled a little at them. It was done, purged, and there were no longer any hidden corners to her. "Now you know everything there is of me."
Then there was a knock on the door as both the takeouts arrived at the same time.
After a scramble for plates and drinks and utensils, everyone was back in their positions. Half of one of the pizzas was vegetarian. "So when do we get to open the presents?" Youji asked.
"How long is it until Christmas Day?" she shot back.
"Two hours, twenty minutes," he said, looking at his watch before directing his attention back to his sweet and sour pork.
"What did your family usually do on Christmas Eve, Shirayuki-san?" Omi asked Akayuki.
She shrugged. "Told stories. Laughed. Listened to Kiko sing."
"Was her voice really that good?" Ken asked.
Yuki nodded. "My sister had the voice of an angel."
"Will you sing for us?" Aya asked. She glanced at him, startled. "Your voice is good," he said.
She bowed her head so that no one could see her face. Something sparkled through the air and splashed on her hand.
"Shirayuki-san?!"
"...Yuki," she said. "My name is Yuki." She straightened and looked at them all again. "My family always called me Yuki," she said softly.
Youji put down his chopsticks. "Does that mean we're your family now, Kitten?" he asked.
She looked at nothing, looked inwards. "Not the way they were... but sort of." Then she looked at them. "If that's all right...?"
"You are Weiss now," Aya said, speaking for all of them.
At ten minutes to midnight, they'd finally convinced her, and her throat had recovered enough, to sing. But in this new family, this assassins group, she insisted on keeping her family's traditions, and had forced Youji to sacrifice five of his white taper candles to her. She lit them in the dark room, even the Christmas tree lights having been put out, and passed one around to each person. Then she closed her eyes.
//Kiko... please, loan me your perfect voice. Just for tonight. Just for this song.//
In the darkness behind her eyes, the white candle held in her hands, she sang, her voice high and pure.
Untainted by blood or sorrow, memories of this midnight song unfolded in her mind. Every year since her recollections began, her younger twin had sung this song while she sat by her side, merely listening. It was a song for a soloist, not for a group. Now it was her turn to sing that solo, to give something beautiful, something pure, to the people who deserved it the most. Living and dead, they surrounded her, touching her. The family who had been: brother, sister, father, step-mother. The companions who were: confidante, leader, best friend, lover. All within her. All in that heartbeat in her chest.
The song had improved year after year. Sometimes it had been in German; sometimes it had been in English. Once or twice there had been missed notes, flaws. But those too were part of the song, of the singer, of the memories.
The candlelight on the other side of her eyelids beckoned, and she opened her eyes into the brightness of that soft glow. They were still there, all four of them. Aya's eyes were closed. What was he remembering? Youji's eyes were closed too, his head bowed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Omi looked beatific. Ken was looking at her, listening to the liquid notes which took wing from her throat.
For once, for them and for her memories, Yuki sang without a single flaw.
The last notes hung in the air, and then died away into silence.
Aya opened his eyes, still swaying a little from the power of the music. Youji wiped his cheeks on the sleeves of his cashmere sweater before revealing wet ivy eyes and smiling at her. Omi took a deep breath and shivered, releasing the song's hold. Ken merely smiled, leaned in towards her, and dropped a bit of greenery onto her hair. "Froliche Weihnachten," he murmured, and kissed her, lips soft and sweet. She closed her eyes into the kiss. When he moved away, she opened them again, smiling without reserve at him.
"It's after midnight!" Omi declared. "We can open the presents now, right?"
Her eyes didn't leave Ken's as he retrieved the bit of mistletoe from her hair. "Yes, Omi-san," she said softly.
Omi handed his candle to Aya and scuttled over to the electical socket, plugging the tree lights back in. "This one's for Youji-kun," he said, starting to pass out the gifts, "and this is yours, Aya-kun. This is for you, Ken-kun, and this one is mine!"
The five candles were blown out and set aside. But before opening their intricately-wrapped gifts, each member of Weiss looked at Akayuki. She laughed just a little. "You already gave me what I wanted," she answered to their unspoken self-reproach.
//...A place to belong... and people to belong with.//
-Profile: Yuki-
Name: Akayuki Shirayuki
Apparent Name: Yukiko Shirayuki
Codename: Magician
Height: 166 cm
Blood Type: O
Birthday: August 17th
Age: About 18 years
Weapon: Staff and poisons
Image Flower: Jasmine
Hobby: Sleight of hand, and dance
Likes: Friends
Dislikes: Feeling forcedThe only female member of Weiss, Akayuki is a devout Buddhist who keenly feels the pain of the missions she undertakes. She relies on her regard for her companions to keep her steady. In the end it is her compassion for others which prompts her to accept missions.
Having spent her life in isolation, working only on the goal of perfecting her gymnastics skills, the death of Akayuki's family caused her to give up her Olympic dreams and join Weiss. Though initially finding them difficult to work with, she eventually overcame her hesitation.
The song Akayuki sang was, of course, "Silent Night."
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