This fanfic is written by Nadya Neklioudova (finished April 4, 2000). It's only a fic, I do not own Schuldig or Aya or any other "Weiss Kreuz" characters - Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss do.

Thank you to Cecille, Auntie Barbara and Chibi-Chiriko, for helping me with this fic! *HUGS*

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A Few Little Notes: I'm using the spelling "Schuldig" for Schu-Schu's name, because it has a meaning ( = "guilty" in German). I like things with meaning. :)

This fanfic is a bit of a personal challenge I've set for myself… writing about a character whose personality (what I know of it) I hated at first. Now I don't hate him. I'm just trying to understand what made him the way he is. I have a bit of experience writing ruthless characters - like my own character, Ryu the Fire Dragon - and giving them more than one side to their personality… I figured I'd try it with Schuldig, that good-lookin' redhead from the Schwarz. :) Unfortunately, all I know of him, I got from the Internet - character descriptions and manga translations… so I may be off in characterization and/or his abilities, especially because I'm inventing his past as I go along. Errors may be fixed later on - once I (hopefully) see the show or read more of the manga… I know I'm treading a very thin rope of continuity, but... that's what happens when you have a character about whom so little is known, so I have to improvise.

Another note: Yes, I'm doing weird things with the formatting of this story. Think of each section as a "cut scene"…well, kinda. Also, note that telepathic words and conversations are uncapitalized, 'like this'.

Now, on to the fic!!

Any and all offerings of chocolate... I mean C-&-C greatly appreciated, at kaoru-k@usa.net

WAVELENGTHS

(Thank you, Chibi-Chiriko-san, for suggesting the title of the fic!!)

 

The mental link grew stronger, fusing Schuldig's mind to Aya's tortured soul. The rain poured from the pitch-black darkness, devoid of stars or hopes, the heavy atmosphere accentuated occasionally by the scarring flashes of lightning that glimmered in the night like swift, twisted blades. Aya knew well that after lightning must come thunder, and he winced as it rumbled through his vulnerable mind, its primal roar seemingly amplified a hundred-fold by the fact that his mind was no longer his. He struggled in vain to break the link, but instead collapsed from the sheer force of it. The wind whipped his rain-drenched hair around his tense face, as his violet eyes glared, not blinking, at the hunter, whose prey he now was.

The connection had an impact on Schuldig as well - momentarily he staggered under the weight of Aya's hidden angst, but quickly regained his composure and the confident expression on his face. The fiery-haired German had become used to invading others' souls by now, and feeling the emotions in their strangled minds become his own for a time. The thought of his own sanity slowly collapsing because of it had stopped bothering him by now.

Once again the familiar image of a dark-haired girl lying on a hospital bed floated to the surface of Aya's thoughts. Schuldig smirked and probed past that image that Aya unknowingly used almost as a shield. 'that won't work!' he told Aya, as he did not want the swordsman learning the ways of telepathy - though he did not fully understand them himself. 'stop glaring at me, this isn't the first time i read your mind. i'm getting bored, think of something else besides your sister!'

Schuldig merely watched, letting his mind recover a little, as Aya feverishly held on to the hilt of his sword for dear life, unable to move it because of all the repressed pain Schuldig was bringing, bubbling, to the surface. The stony-faced, trenchcoat-clad assassin never answered the telepath's taunting mental voice - but then again, he was not expected to answer. There had only been one person who could answer… and had not for the past few years.

Suddenly a shrill, vaguely familiar voice burst out from the depths of memory - whose memory, the fiery-haired one did not know anymore:

"don't you feel ANYTHING?"

=======

 

"Wouldn't it be funny if people could read minds?" a boy suddenly asked the young German transfer student after school. "Wouldn't you want to do that?"

"I can," Schuldig stated.

"No way. You're not serious are you?"

'let me have my voice to myself...'

On a rainy, thundering night, seemingly lifetimes ago - whose? - the lonely young Schuldig sat by his favorite window, looking out onto the street through the dust and dirt on the glass. Lightning randomly lit the sky, making raindrops glitter like threads, for only brief moments before fading into darkness again. Schuldig blankly stared outside, concentrating on the storm, so that it might somehow dull down the voices in his head... Because it was night and he was the only one awake in the house, the others' thoughts resounding in his mind seemed more chaotic, as dreams always are. He tried to push them away, but they did not stop... only concentrating on something, letting something absorb all his attention, helped to at least soften the voices to a dull but omnipresent background noise. The storm did that job for now. But even that mental noise hammered on his mind constantly, just like the raindrops on the window.

'please... leave me alone.'

"You hate me, don't you?" the young red-haired boy asked without a tint of surprise in his voice.

"No, that's not it at all! I just...you're just..."

"Yes you do. I just read it in your mind."

"There you go again, Schuldig. Stop poking through my brain! It's creepy."

"I can't help it," the boy answered matter-of-factly.

"You're weird."

"I know."

'you don't even bother, do you?'

Schuldig, the tall, thin young man with an unruly mane of long red hair, walked down the street at a brisk pace, with earphones in his ears, his hands in his pockets and a blank smile on his face. People moved aside, out of his way, glancing at him warily from the corners of their eyes as if at just another "crazy teenager". It didn't help that he was a foreigner. Among a crowd of dark-haired Japanese, he stuck out like a sore thumb with his outrageously bright hair and his wide-open eyes. Wisps of the music screaming through his ears reached the passers-by. Schuldig glanced back at them, attempting a smile that turned out more like a grin, driving them away instead as they hastily averted their eyes.

They only gave him their attention for a second, but their thoughts and emotions lingered in his mind. As he walked through the sea of people, he was drowning in that sea, his mind dissolving slowly, and there was nothing he could do. The music blasting in his ears was a shield - but even with it, he was all too aware of the people's unspoken reactions to him, ranging from indifference to fear. They could not tell what was behind that grin on his face, but he could read them all - a cacophony of notes, voices, screams, dreams, pleas invaded his mind relentlessly.

'i can understand you...why can't you understand me? no, then i don't understand you at all!'

"Can't anyone hear me?" Schuldig pleaded in his thoughts, expecting to hear the familiar silence. Oddly enough, there was an echo this time, slightly different - a female voice, that of a young girl.

 

'are you there?'

He liked to talk to her. In his relatively short lifetime of being a telepath, he had called out many times in vain, hoping there was another outcast like him out there. No one responded…until recently.

'yes, schu-schu…i'm here.'

She liked to call him "Schu-Schu". Being apparently Japanese, she could not pronounce his German name, and it was even harder in thoughts, so she shortened it, in her childish way. At first, Schuldig protested, but then found it amusing. It was hard to hear her young voice over the noise of so many others, but he could always tell because of her nickname for him, and because she was the only one who spoke to him.

He never asked her name. He had no idea where she lived either, but he was certain she was in Japan somewhere, as was he. Perhaps it was better that he didn't hear the souls of the entire world at once - a few million people was torture enough for his mind.

'let's talk.'

"There is nothing wrong with me!" Schuldig shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Yes there is, son… normal people don't read minds. Maybe a psychiatrist should take a look at you."

"You don't believe me, do you…"

"No, if all you ever do is wander around the city, or lock yourself in your room and pretend to talk in your head."

'…i can see the future, remember?'

The unusual quietness of the morning just began to settle into a lone afternoon, when that voice broke into Schuldig's conversation with his telepathic friend, drowning out her faint voice. The sound of that mind jolted Schuldig visibly - its strong and confident, though somehow cold, mental tone oddly attracted him. The voice of a leader.

'hello? i heard you say something about the future…in my mind… can you hear me? am i crazy?' he called out. No answer came, but the sense of this strong mind remained. The voice of the little girl reached him again:

'schu-schu… schu-schu, what happened?'

'nothing… nothing.' He knew lying to a telepath was useless, but he did it anyway.

'you're lying, schu-schu… tell me!'

"#?*$*@$%*$&!", said the abrasive, neon-coloured graffitti on the wall. Schuldig stood staring at it, or rather past it, for so long that his eyes hurt. Finally he picked up a piece of chalky rock, and added his signature to the wall: "SCHULDIG WAS HERE".

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"We're so alike, you and I," Schuldig spoke aloud to Aya, slightly releasing his hold on the swordsman's mind. It was no fun if the prey couldn't fight back. "We both care about so little… amazing isn't it?"

"You… you care about nothing." Aya hissed, picking up his sword. "I care about my sister."

"Your sister…" Schuldig chuckled. It would've been enough to send chills through someone's spine - anyone's, but not Aya's. "Is she really so dear to you?"

"You wouldn't know," the swordsman answered coolly.

'you're wrong... i know almost too well. but i don't hide behind someone else's name.'

The enraged Aya deemed this unworthy of any response other than a feline lunge with his sword. Lightning momentarily froze the two in mid-battle. Back in darkness, Schuldig dodged easily, then reached out and seized Aya's mind again. 'you are such fun to toy with... just the tiniest mention of your sister or Takatori gets you clawing at me. Just like a little kitten.'

"You..." Aya roared. "We have NOTHING in common!"

"Are you so sure?"

Lightning crashed again, followed by thunder, as the two assassins fought to take each other's lives.

========

"He ran away from home?" Schuldig's mother's grey eyes grew wide. "And you let him?"

"What could we do?" his father answered. "You can never tell what a boy like that will do next."

"But how could you let him..."

"Relax. He'll come back. His imaginary friend is no substitute for his real parents."

'where are you going, schu-schu?'

The red-haired runaway edged through the narrow space between two corners of buildings, plugging his nose to avoid the stench of this alleyway. They were all the same - dark, narrow places, reeking with the smell of things Schuldig did not even want to think about, stuffed with boxes and such rubbish that made going through the alleyways like finding one's way through a labyrinth. He winced and still went ahead, following that strong voice like a compass, not even knowing why.

'nowhere.'

Two tattoo-covered thugs, dressed in torn leather, suddenly appeared out of nowhere right in front of Schuldig, blocking his way. The one with the most earrings, and the most dirty thoughts, stepped ahead, his mouth full of yellow teeth stretching into a grin obviously intended as a failed scowl. His simple mind repulsed Schuldig, but he could not block it out - so he focused on it instead, seizing it, wrenching it. 'that was supposed to be threatening? oh please. humor me.' The German stood perfectly still, watching with the composure of ice, as the rogue's eyes grew wider and he sank to his shaking knees. The other man inquired hoarsely, "Hey what's wrong? Get the redhead!" However, there was no answer, as Schuldig kicked the terrified man's lights out.

"You're next," with a fierce grin, he informed the one left standing. The utterly confused thug turned tail and ran, his heavy black jewelry jingling as he zigzagged through the alleyway.

'why did you do that, schu-schu?' the little girl's scared voice rang in his head.

Why? Schuldig first searched his own thoughts, then what was left of the thoughts of the man lying on the ground, but could not find a definite reason. Somehow, a feeling of power and pride creeped into his soul, and he answered simply,

'because i could. they were in my way. they're not anymore.'

"I can see the future, remember?" said the dark-haired American to the scar-covered Irish man, whose one amber eye offered no response.

"Well," the American continued, "I think quite soon, someone may be joining us... what do you think, Farfarello?"

'schu-schu... i got beat up at school today.'

Schuldig froze in his tracks, and quietly inquired 'why?'.

'because i said i could read this other boy's mind...'

'So it starts,' Schuldig thought to himself, walking alone through the outskirts of the city. 'She will be just like me...'

Night was falling, dotting the fading blue of the sky with stars - the guideposts for birds. The German did not even glance up at them - it took him a lot of concentration to keep talking to his telepathic friend, and to follow the leader's voice at the same time. Walking away from the light of the sunset, he stared at his long, faint shadow on the gravel ahead.

'why did you tell him you could read his mind?'

'he said it would be neat if people could read minds... i said i could.'

Schuldig's eyes widened, as he raised them to meet the ominously dark blue of the night sky. As usual, it offered no consolation.

'no... you shouldn't have said anything!' he yelled. 'maybe you could live a normal life if you keep this ability to yourself!'

'but i trusted him... then he hit me. it hurt, schu-schu.'

An uneasy pause ensued, as Schuldig kept walking away from the city. Lost in thought, he had not noticed as he came nearer to the noise of the highway, with its constant flow of bright headlights. Life, locked into cars, passed him by, leaving swirls of muddled thoughts behind for him to sense. The river of sets of two white lights going one way, and red lights going the other, all without meaning or reason... He was already halfway across the road, when he saw bright lights aimed straight at him, and heard the cat-like screech of tires just a few feet away. A car had stopped, turned across the highway, someone got out and made a few steps toward him. The red-haired German looked up at a tall, dark-haired man, who spoke with a light American accent:

"We thought we'd find you here."

"Who are you?" Schuldig asked after a pause.

"I'm Brad Crawford," said the man, stetching out his hand in greeting.

'the leader's voice... so loud in my mind.'

"Don't you think he'll be useful, Mr. Takatori?" Crawford asked.

"You say that the German has telepathic abilities?"

"Yes. Also the potential for mind-control."

"Very well... consider him the newest member of the Schwarz, if you feel he can be trusted."

'you still coming, schu-schu?'

The girl's giddy, excited voice broke into Schuldig's mind for the tenth time in the past hour. He answered as happily as possible, 'yes i'm coming, i'll be there soon', as he walked with long but unsure strides to a small house near the edge of Tokyo. He had asked Brad Crawford if he could leave for a day, under the premise of having something urgent he needed to do. He could see it now - just around the corner, shrouded in shrubbery and painted white, it looked more like a cottage than a house. 'are you alone?'

'yes... my parents left and won't be coming back 'till late today. they leave me alone a lot, and nobody ever comes to visit me, i'm all by myself... i can hear you so loud now! well i can't hear you...but you know what i mean!'

He stood on the steps of the house, letting out a long sigh before knocking on the door. From afar, the little house looked well-cared-for, but up close, he could see the white paint was stained, and was peeling off in places. Uneasily, he reached into his pocket and touched the cold metal of his new gun.

The door opened, and Schuldig looked down to see a young girl of about ten. Momentarily she seemed scared to see the tall, red-haired man towering in the doorway: "Schul.. Schurd.. Schu-Schu, is that you?"

"Yes", he said, fingering the ominous gun in his pocket. However, his hand was immediately pulled out of his pocket by the little girl, whose little hands grabbed his own in an attempt to whirl him around, but then she gave up on that idea and started jumping instead, still holding onto both of his hands. "You came, you came!"

"I came..." Schuldig said. The girl paused and tilted her head, staring up at him with her starry black eyes, as if asking 'what's wrong?'

Unable to let go of her hands to reach for his gun, he peered into her mind instead. His proximity to her, and her own telepathic inexperience, made her suddenly collapse onto her knees. 'i'm sorry,' he thought as he wrenched her mind, paralyzing it.

'why? i thought we were friends? schu-schu, don't you feel ANYTHING?' he heard her shrill scream one last time in his head, before her mind went blank.

Schuldig walked away from the little white house, staring ahead at his shadow. A grin was his mask. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a car stopping by the house, and a minute later, the wailing of an ambulance rang through the air. The wind whipped Schuldig's wild hair around his face, as he turned the corner, where Brad Crawford's car was waiting.

'it's better this way... you won't become like me.'

"I'm sorry," said the doctor in his blinding white coat. "Your daughter has brain damage... she is in a coma."

"Will...will she recover?" the little girl's mother asked between sobs.

"We'll see. The damage is extensive, but she may heal over some time."

'i can't hear her voice anymore... maybe it is for the best. i didn't want her finding out about the schwarz, anyway. she shouldn't be friends with a killer.'

"So how was your first mission, Schuldig? I hope you like your new gun," Brad Crawford asked casually.

"Huh? Fine, boss... why do you ask? Yeah, I liked it. It's not like I cared about that guy, geez," the German answered, wearing his usual grin.

"Good. You're officially part of the team then!"

'it feels good to be useful', Schuldig thought to himself.

========

'don't you feel ANYTHING?' the little girl's voice shrieked through both Schuldig's and Aya's still telepathically connected minds. Schuldig staggered, momentarily distracted, inadvertently leaving himself open to Aya's attack - but the deadly sword only pierced his shoulder. Aya landed awkwardly, but straightened and looked with narrow eyes at the wounded Schuldig, wondering why the red-haired Schwarz did not finish him off with a well-aimed bullet yet.

"What was that?" Aya's cold voice rang through the storm like a thunderbolt.

Schuldig severed the link to Aya's mind so abruptly that it left both with splitting headaches, and breathed a sigh of relief, having most of his mind back in one piece. Aya didn't even flinch.

"If I can pick up your thoughts, surely it's not that hard to piece together whatever's left of my mind in your head," Schuldig hissed, holding his bleeding shoulder.

Aya stepped away, sword ready, taking a short pause to sort out these scraps of memories that he knew weren't his, mostly expecting some kind of lie typical of Schuldig. Distorted images surfaced in his mind - those of schoolboys taunting a young red-haired foreign boy, of Brad Crawford reaching out his hand, and of a young girl falling unconscious onto a path in front of a small white house.

"Now you know," a quiet, truthful voice, hardly sounding like it belonged to Schuldig, was heard through the whisper of the rain.

My Inspirations and Explanations for this fic

Email Nadya (aka Weiß Lily, aka Angel Mercury)