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NADYA'S NOTES:

First of all, if this song was mine, I would be Glay - but as you can see, I'm not. Second, if the characters of "Weiss Kreuz" were mine, I would be Koyasu Takehito, which I'm also not. ^_^; I am just a girl named Nadya Neklioudova, who was just borrowing these song lyrics and these characters to write this songfic. (and who also got help on it from her good friend Jezko) Um, you know the deal - pleez don't sue me, I'm broke because I spent my last babysitting money on a "Weiss Kreuz" Artbook. :P

This songfic makes references to my fanfic "Wavelengths". I suggest that if you haven't read it, you should read it first. Some things may become clearer because of the fic. It is technically a stand-alone one-shot story, but it can also be considered part 1 of my small, loosely-tied Aya-&-Schuldig fic series called "Lacheln" ("Smile").

And yes I know, the song is rather fast-paced, while the fic, well, isn't. Um.. I was going more by the lyrics. Yeah. ^_^;

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"IKIGAI" (Life's Worth)--GLAY

words and music by TAKURO

translated by Chika

Writing notes: song lyrics | [my writing, the actual songfic] | 'thoughts'

This songfic, though it can stand alone, is part two of the "Lacheln" ("Smile") series.

[ The lonely moon peers through the heavy curtain of night fog. The earth, still dark and moist from previously falling rain provides a slick, damp suface underfoot. Seeing nothing but the images of previous events turned sour, and desolate, empty promises, Aya's violet eyes flicker with an aloof sense of remorse. For himself, perhaps? His pale, thin hands buried deep into the dark leather of his jacket, his hard-soled shoes scrape audibly against the priorly rain-beaten path walked by many, unnoticed by the assassin. ]

Even the unforgiven mistakes, any kind of events, if you look back on them, it's just memories

Fate is only a moment's happening ....

[A small sound attracts Aya's attentions to the ground beneath him, drawing the amethyst eyes of the man to where a small stone tumbles into a rainwater-filled crevice in the pavement. Ripples float outward from the small form. With mild curiosity, Aya approaches it, and finds himself gazing emptily into the murky expanse, the image of his own familiar, pale face twisted and gnarled in the water's grasp. 'Is... that me?' Like the flicker of a dying ember, a stray flash of equally pale moonlight throws itself to the golden adornment hanging from the side of his head, amongst his vivid crimson locks. 'it had always comforted me... but when the light reflects off it like that...' He turns sharply on his heel, shaking his head and scolding himself inwardly, and stalks off into the alley, not noticing the tall figure at the other end of the cement strip. ]

... There were times I even regret some encounters

Barging into people's souls without consent, using a sword, I was wounded

[ Feeling a dull, raw buzzing pain seeping from his aching shoulder, Schuldig clasps his long, thin fingers around the injured joint, the tips of his appendages brushing roughly against the coarse medical gauze holding the slash shut. The wound had been bandaged and the bleeding had stopped, but the absence of overgrowing skin had been all too noticeable to the victim of the injury.'what the hell... it was my own stupid fault, anyways,' he thinks.'if i'd been paying attention like i should've been, i would've ripped 'im a new one, instead of him doin' it to ME... but maybe it was... fair. after all, i've put the poor sap through--' He pauses in his thoughts, and scoffs suddenly: 'fair? hey, when the hell did I start givin' a damn about "fairness"? i guess his mind has started rubbin' off on me...' ]

If it's difficult to say what you want, let's keep that aside and for now, show me your smile,

as if a joke, in the name of love

[ The two red-haired men finally notice each other when they are only a few meters apart. The human epitome of silence narrows his eyes and glares at the wild-haired Schuldig, then senses the German's intrusion into his mind again. Aya's violet eyes, the amethyst pools so accustomed to being narrow and cold, widen in shock, as he feels the corners of his mouth curling up against his will into some semblance of a smile. He attempts to look down to verify whether he is actually smiling, despite the obvious fact that one can no more see his own smile than bite his own elbow. Even though he has locked away his smile in favor of an inscrutable expression of ice for so long, he still remembers the feeling enough to know that there is something all too mechanical about the expression now pasted onto his face by the telepath. ]

With eyes like a tireless child, you speak of love

The irreplaceable things you've given me

If I have the strength to cherish and protect those...

Perhaps I can call it my life's worth, blooming in the daily life

[ The corners of Schuldig's mouth curl up into a characteristic grin, as he eyes his "handiwork" - the lone Weiss standing in the darkness of the alley, staring him down with eyes of amethyst ice, a smile frozen on his lips. "Hmm...not too bad. Needs work. Still, Ayan, you're quite a sight!" However, he does not fail to mutter to himself in thoughts: 'did i forget how to make a realistic smile? when was the last time i SAW a real smile?' ]

[ Aya, still telepathically connected to Schuldig's mind, receives a small whisper that was left of the German's thoughts, and wonders the same thing, recalling Aya-chan's smiling, innocent face... then the memory shatters around him, reminding him of the harsh fact that that innocence now clings to existence only by the thin line of life-support mechanisms. 'because of the schwarz…and takatori…' ]

In your white chest which gave me warmth, I somehow always felt desolate

(instrumental pause in song)

[ "I'm not in the mood, Schuldig," Aya's voice rings in the foggy air, as he regains control of his facial muscles and sets his lips back into the familiar scowl. Too familiar, too much like a shield. "You're lucky I don't have my katana right now. Leave. Now." ]

[ "You're not in the mood for fighting... well, I'm not in the mood for leaving," the German announces, smugly as ever. The soles of his shoes scatter the tiny shards of gravel on the path, and they make way for the taller man as he slowly approaches closer. "Hey, admit it... you got nowhere else to go. Stay. Smile." A sharp note of sarcasm sounds through his last word, sharper than necessary, perhaps to conceal another, quieter note... ]

[ Aya turns to leave, crimson strands clinging to his pale face in the mist, his head held high in contempt - not of Schuldig himself, but of having to smile for him, because of him. However, he does not move, and Schuldig's mind-control has nothing to do with it. ]

To love and to detest, I realized that what makes those are the same thing...

[ The tall German comes closer to Aya, then suddenly whirls around, clutching his injured shoulder in annoyance as pain shoots through it again. 'dammit!' ]

[The two stand like this in darkness, now almost back-to-back, with a small space of silence between them, as the uninterrupting sky looks on. ]

The flashy city, now, holding back the tears, and yet

It seems to be obeying the human desires

Unless someone tells you good night

You probably don't know when to rest that tight soul

[ "Why did you let me go?" Schuldig finally wonders aloud, finally finding a question that would explain his rather peaceful proximity to the man belonging to a side which he always thought he should oppose. "I mean, you had a perfect chance to finish me off. Why just a friggin' scrape?" ]

[ "........" Silence is the only answer of the man lost in the labyrinthine realm of thought. 'why DID i let him live? he's right...i blew my chance. but do i regret it...?' ]

[ "Ah yes, the statue speaks at last," says the sarcastic Schwarz, while almost sensing his words creak, crack, tumble down and shatter on the rough surface underfoot, never reaching their destination. But then, he had spoken only to the silence of the alley, the murky pools of remaining rainwater, and the age-old trees, whose trunks rose like pillars on each side of the path - all too busy in their own private rustling, whispering conversations to hear him. Or perhaps they did hear the hidden notes of emotion in his voice all along, but could not reply or reach toward either of the two men with a friendly branch. Either way, the two would never know. ]

I'm alone Without any god or words of prayer

To where, up to where do I have to go to understand your words?

Can I find the words?

[ "Don't know? Well, I like it better that way. You know, I'd probably freak out if you said anythin' at all," utters Schuldig with a small chuckle, though the question still hangs in his mind, boring into him. His own thoughts mock him with the voices of countless others whose thoughts were forever imprinted on his mind the instant he read them, while his own voice, begging for silence and a clear answer at the same time, drowns in the mental tempest of a person almost but never alone. Yet at this moment lit by darkness, the telepath is unable to read the one mental voice of the person standing close, the one voice he wants to hear. ]

With my tired soul, I think of the day I shall die, and yet

I shout for today, to heal your heart

In this world which will never be satisfied

It's all just a comedy, until the soul rots and dies

[ The pale, cratered sentinel of the sky peers through the foliage, the patches of its dim reflection of sunlight falling like silvery leaves onto the shadowy path, the leather of the jacket worn by one tall figure, and the dark, coarse fabric of the clothes worn by another. However, according to the principle of all cats being grey in the dark, only the daylight gold of Aya's ear ornament glints, keeping part of its warm hues. At the moment, both of the tall, shadowy silhouettes in the alleyway look more similar than they realize. ]

[ "Damn, I hate this silence," the tall, grey figure with the long, wild hair announces, and further shatters the quiet by stepping on the rustling gravel, striding away. Aya had been expecting him to leave at any moment, expecting himself to be relieved at the Schwarz's absence, but... ]

Like history shows, like how that person shows

I repeat sorrow, my body infested by the beast called happiness

Since that day I made my first cry on this earth, I search

The direction which this lost soul should go, the true self that has been lost

Forever, I ask, in my heart, I ask

[ ...after a momentary eternity, a semblance of an answer to a question left hanging in the fog is finally heard from the night-coloured figure left alone. It is the one word, one quietly spoken syllable, that comes as a surprise to the one who utters it, yet is most needed by the one about to walk away from it: ]

["Wait!" ]

[ Perhaps the only one who smiles at that is the faraway moon, but it is one genuine, not forced, smile. ]