Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz and all associated and registered trademarks are copyright Project Weiß and associated firms. In the writing of this fanfiction I am making no claim or stake in the profits of it. In other words, I don't own these sexy bishounen, and I don't intent to. Get it? Got it? Good.

Weiß Schrecken

Chapter One: Überrumpeltem

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A smothering blanket of dark grey covered the skies of Tokyo, giving ominous warning of the poor weather that was to follow. Those few that were wandering in the early evening's sparse light moved to take cover as the foreboding rumble of thunder cut through the air, following the trace patterns of lightening that arced across the base of the shadowed clouds. One could easily see that the approaching storm was not going to be pleasant, thus logic dictated that one should remain inside, or head for cover. Yet, logic is a fickle thing, able to be shoved aside for more important matters. And one such matter was keeping a young soul out in the still air that was giving further warning to the mistemperment of nature.

Stretched out on the hard, patterned roof of a long condemned hotel, Tsukiyono Omi let out an exasperated sigh, deep sapphire eyes watching the apartment building across the street, specifically the dark windows of the penthouse floor. Watching as he had been watching for the past six hours. Watching well beyond his shift of stake out duty; Youji had been due to relieve him two hours previous. But there had been naught a word from the playboy, thus leaving the young assassin to extend his own shift to cover the other's absence.

Rolling over onto his back, the teen stretched out his body, pausing to stare at the dark clouds hanging above him. This was not pleasant, and it didn't look to be getting any better. Weiß had received a simple mission: find and kill the leader of a massive underground drug ring. Finding the man had proved simple enough; at least, finding where he lived had been. The problem was that the bastard was rarely home. Thus the four of them had decided to pull shifts to watch his apartment; when and if the target appeared, they could move in and make the kill before he left again. Simple, really. They had been camped out, so to speak, for three days so far with no sign of the target. It was getting boring and frustrating.

Twisting back to be laying on his stomach again, the youngest of the Weiß assassins propped his elbow on the surface below him and rested his chin on his palm. "So boring!" he complained to the open air. "And now Youji-kun is beyond late, leaving me with all the work. Again. These things are never fair. Moooou, what could go worse?"

One thing the youth had never learned, it seemed, was that tempting fate was a bad idea. In response to his request, the skies opened up, dropping sheet after sheet of driving rain onto the world below it.

"Of course..." Shrugging the hood of his jacket up to cover his hair, Omi let out another sigh. Figured. Just his luck that there would be a storm during HIS extended watch. He'd end up soaked, and Youji would show up for the last hour, most likely, and say something light to shrug it all off. Thus, the kid would get stuck with all the work, as usual, while the playboy took all the glory. It was an odd pattern that seemed to dominate Weiß.

"Baka ne." Muttering the words under his breath, Omi also knew he could never get mad at the others for it, especially not Youji. To start, he didn't often mind doing most of the work alone; it kept him busy, which was something he liked being. Then there was the matter of efficiency; by far, he was more actively observant than Youji ever was. The playboy always looked so sleepy, capable of missing the most pressing of details; of course, he was more observant than he seemed, his appearance just suggested otherwise. Third, this was a to be expected occurrence. Youji and keeping to a schedule didn't often match too well. The only thing the blond could manage to meet were the times set to pick up his dates. Beyond that, all of Weiß had given up on him ever being on time. It just... didn't happen.

Omi was about to head to a lower level to get some cover from the rain, ready to sacrifice his perfect view point for the sake of staying dry, when the lights of the penthouse suite turning on caught his attention. "Nani..." Peering at the windows, he could make out a silhouette of a human behind the panes. "The target!" Focused intently on the penthouse, the teen was unaware of the figure slowly approaching him from behind.

*

A pretty face. Indeed, she had such a pretty face. Youji had decided to linger and chat with the beauty that had graced Koneko's floor just before closing. His smooth words had even earned him a date with the sensual goddess. The next night, at precisely seven o'clock, we was going to be graced again with the teal-haired beauty. Maybe he would even ask her name at that time. Maybe. After all, he had so many girlfriends already, it would be impossible for him to learn the name of yet another one. Ah, how tough the life of a playboy was.

Taking a tight corner, his Roadster handling it easily, the blond glanced down at his watch. Mou! Omi was going to kill him; more than two hours late for his watch on the target's place. Was it his fault that and absolute angel had decided to talk for a long while with him? Shaking his head, Youji smiled, not the bright style of smile Omi usually wore, but the hidden knowledge one he preferred. The kid would understand, he always did. Of all of Weiß, the genki teen was the most understanding of them all. A real spark of light in the darkness of the world. Personally, Youji couldn't understand how he did it. Wouldn't it be awfully tiring to be that happy and energetic all the time? Mah! He barely survived on his regime of sleeping lots and sleeping late. That kind of bouncing energy was entirely out of the question.

Digging his black and white cell phone out of his coat pocket, Youji flipped it on, quickly dialing the number of Omi's own cell. Might as well let the kid know he was coming, that way the teen could prepare his lecture and get it over with quickly. Bringing the phone to rest against his ear, the playboy sighed and took another corner easily, waiting for the other to pick up.

*

Trying to gauge the distance and angle from his position on the roof, despite the driving rain, Omi sighed. He'd need his compound bow for the shot, and all he had was his hunting bow. It looked like he'd have to go into the penthouse itself to complete the mission. Well, at least there was a positive or two about this. He could get out of the rain and could take care of the target at the same time. This was good; it would mean no more late, late watches that kept him from being on time to school. Smiling and keeping that thought in mind, the teen was about to get up when the distinct sound of his cell phone ringing cut through the air.

"Mooou!" he exclaimed, digging it out. "Who could be calling?" Pulling off one of his gloves, his now bared hand flipped open the phone as he raised it to his ear. "Moshi moshi?"

There was little more he could say before a gloved hand clamped over his mouth, a sudden weight falling on the small of his back to keep him pinned to the ground. Eyes widening in surprise, Omi dropped the phone, a muffled yell trying to emerge.

*

Pulling into a slim parking space, Youji pulled the parking brake of his car up before shutting the ignition off, letting the engine die in the rain. Rain, of course; it would be his Roadster that got caught in the rain. The ringing in his ear died and the playboy heard the familiar and bright voice of Bombay on the other end. "Oiya, Omi, it's Youji," he said. "I'm running a bit late, demo..." About to go into his excusive speech, the blond paused, hearing something that sounded like a yell and then the distinct thump of the phone being dropped. "Omi?" Listening intently, the assassin was able to pick out the faint sounds of a struggle, followed by another thumping sound, which ended the previous scuffle of noises. That could only mean whatever fight had been going on had ended. "Omi! Daijoubu?"

*

How he had avoided being knocked unconscious by the sharp blow to his head was an unknown miracle. But staying awake was doing little to help Omi's situation. Whoever his attacker was, they were heavy, and currently straddling his back to keep his body on the ground. And strong, as the pain at the back of his head was informing him. Still trying to get free, though his actions were more sluggish than before, Omi tried to pull free the hand blocking his mouth and voice so that he could shout a warning to whoever it was that had called him.

//I would remain still if I were you. Wouldn't want another strike to your pretty head, ja?//

Omi froze as the nasal voice invaded his mind, the Japanese words overlaid with a strong German accent. There was no question who his attacker was now. Schuldich. The German telepath of Schwarz. Damn. Knowing that did even less to help the teen's situation, only adding a thousand questions and exclamations in his head.

//Mein Gott, shut up! You think too loud, Kätzchen.//

The mental complaint was followed by a sharp pain as the German's fist again connected with the back of his skull, an attempt to shut him up further. His vision greying from the strike, Omi tried to focus on his dropped phone. If he could grab that, he could call for help. However, a gloved hand that was not his own descended first, picking up the still connected device. The world before him blurring, Omi's head dropped to the ground, drops of rain dancing over his skin.

A throaty chuckle cut through the oddly silenced air as the German listened to the voice on the other end. "Sorry, but Omi is not in right now," Schuldich announced all too cheerily. "If you leave your name and number, I'm sure he'll get back to you. If he survives, ja?" Another bit of nasal laughter carried to the youth as his world blacked out, dropping him into darkness.

*

The world could have dropped out from beneath him and Youji would not have noticed. "Schuldich!" he spat out, anger clearly haunting his voice. Anger for the telepath that seemed so exclusively bent on screwing with Weiß and destroying the four assassins. Anger for the man who had already caused so much pain to the youngest of the assassins. Anger for the man who was currently up on the roof with said genki teen. Damnit! "Get the hell away from Omi!"

"Ma, ma, that would ruin my game though," came the reply, followed by more soft laughter. "Sorry, but round one is mine. I'll see you in round two, ja?" There was the muffled click that signaled the end of the phone call.

Letting loose a string of curses, Youji quickly left his vehicle, running into the condemned building Weiß had been using as a stake out point. The stairs to the roof were taken two, and sometimes three, at a time. The playboy lost track of the number of levels he ascended, only intent on reaching the top and helping his team member. His phone was dropped somewhere along the way, the blond deciding to free up his hands to use his wire, should he run into Schuldich on the way up. Yet, that man's catlike abilities were known to him, and the playboy could only figure the telepath had a less obvious escape route planned out.

Bursting onto the roof, Youji paid little heed as the pouring rain again worked its way into his clothing and hair, sticking both to his lanky frame as he searched out Bombay's position. Finding it, all he could see was the youth's phone, hunting bow, and what he could only assumed to be his entire carried collection of darts, most likely removed to keep him weaponless. Wherever he was.

"Omi?!" His words echoed and were swallowed by a loud crash of thunder. Damnit! The kid was gone without a trace, save the words and abandoned weapons. And during his own watch, damnit. He should have been the one there! Cursing, Youji picked up the pale cell of the youngest of Weiß, ready to dial up Aya and report the situation. Ready to take the blame, since it was clearly due on him. Emerald eyes once again searched across the roof for the genki teen, faintly hoping that Omi was merely hiding to surprise him upon arrival. No such luck.

"Omi? Where are you?!"

Even as he spoke the words, Youji knew the answer. In the hands of Schwarz. Exactly where he should not have been.



Author's Note:
This is, yes, only the first chapter. I'm hoping to work on the following chapters within the next few days. They will be posted as I write 'em. *grins* As per usual, reviews are appreciated by not required. I do love recieving them, as the words within help me to refine my style and portrayal, thus, hopefully, making my stories in general that much more better.

I thank you for reading this first chapter, and hope you enjoyed! More is coming, this I promise.