Author's Notes-- ( 10:11 PM 1/15/03 ) Ho-ho! I start yet another fanfic. Oi! I just couldn't help it. I've had so much inspiration lately. As for this fic, do not fear: It shall be a RanKen. This is one of the few serious fics I am going to try to write, so please give me feedback. I am not gifted with darker fiction; I'm more of a humour person. This prologue may be subject to change. I'm not very pleased with it.
Disclaimer-- The thought of me owning Weiss Kreuz makes me want to dance. I don't see me dancing anywhere, anytime soon. I also do not own "Somewhat Damaged" by NIN, nor do I own Trent Reznor or the band.
Warnings-- Cliche-ness (for now), slight mention of torture.
//blah// -- Thoughts (ex: //What should I say, now?//)
"blah" -- Dialogue (ex: "Your mom.")
„blah" -- Visably Foreign Dialogue (ex: „Wie ghet's?")
* * * * *
Somewhat Damaged * Seph Lorraine
Prologue
* * * * *
He stood there, tucking the smooth brown strands of hair behind his ears. Nervous. His hands seemed to shake with a fear that was visable to even the weakest of human eyes. His brown eyes, simply remained glued to that one spot on the floor... The small puddle of spillt water from where a glass was dropped, clumbsily, before it's holder retired to bed.
Omi watched the boy in his doorway, with wide-eyed curiosity. He had only known Ken for one day, and he had gathered already that the boy was somewhat distant. Though, at the moment, the Japanese boy looked nothing short of frightened.
Brown eyes remained on the spot.
Blue-eyes glanced at the empty water-glass, one large crack near it's rim, beside his bedside table and sighed. What was going on? What was Ken doing up so late?
"Ken...?" He called out softly, raising himself to a sitting position in his bed. "Is something wrong?"
The brown-eyed boy in the doorway snapped his vision onto the small blond in bed, "Ano... Omi. I come to saying: your night is good." The boy in the doorway stmbled over his English, horribly, but alas, the blond managed to make sense of the words. [1]
"Yes, Ken. Good night to you, too." Omi smiled lightly. "Is that all?"
The Japanese boy's smile was very small. It was really nothing more than a light squint of the eyes. From the doorway he gave a half-bow and nodded, translating the words in his head. Trying to make sense of the English that the blond was speaking. It was difficult to understand the harsh language these people spoke. English sounded rough and crude to his ears, and even though he disliked it, he knew he would eventually speak it. Though, it was difficult, when the one person who showed any interest in getting to know you couldn't communicate effectively with you.
"Yes!" The brown-haired boy spoke, without thinking. He frowned again at the blonds slightly confused smile. His eyes betrayed him though, there was something on his mind.
"Don't worry, Ken. You'll like it here, once you get used to it." The blond began lowering himself into bed again, "Now, go to sleep, ok?"
"...What?" 'Ken' tried to translate the blond's speech, but to no avail.
Too discouraged to focus, he nodded again, closing the door and leaned against the wall in the hallway. It was past curfew, but he really didn't want to return to his bed. Nothing could distract him from his thoughts, when he lay down to sleep. He would be lost in his memories. Even driving screws under his fingernails seemed much more pleasant than remembering.
"You." A deep voice resounded from one end of the hallway, causing Ken to snap open his eyes and turn to face the voice's embodiment.
A man with fierce eyes, protected by thinly-rimmed glasses stood at the end of the hallway in a pristine white suit. Two thin locks of black hair fell lightly into his vision, but seemed nothing of a bother to him.
Ken lifted himself from the wall and bowed timidly, "Konba...Hello, Mr. Crawford." He managed to get out. The name came out with an undeniable Japanese flourish. Kurafurudo.
"Why are you out of your room past curfew?" The man crossed his arms, and kept his cold gaze on the Japanese boy before him.
Taking a moment to try to decipher what had been spoken to him, Ken frowned, "I... am outside."
The man in white blinked, his eyebrow twitching in what could be classified as frustration, "No. You are inside. Why are you out of your room?"
Another moment passed with Ken trying to understnad the elder man, "I said 'Good Night'." He pointed to the door that led into Omi's room.
// This job is really beginning to irk me... // Crawford sighed heavily, nodding, this time, and hardening his glare, "I understand you are new here. And you obviously don't know much English. Therefor, I shall merely give you a warning this time. You are not to be out of your room after the 22nd hour. Not even to say 'Good Night' to your little friends. Am I clear?" He paused, waiting for a sign of comprehension from the Japanese boy before him.
"I..." At loss for a responce (as he hadn't understood anything the American man had just said), Ken frowned and merely said the only thing that had gotten him anywhere with anyone that day, "Yes!" It was one of the very few things he did know in Englsih.
Nodding, the teacher pointed to the stair case. "Go to your room."
The brown-eyed boy nodded, walking off to the staircase and heading down for the 4th story to find his room. He couldn't help but sulk to himself lightly. Why did he bother speaking to anyone, anyway? The blond boy was the only one who had bothered to talk to him, since he had arrived... Even if they hardly understood each other, Ken felt himself welcomed by the younger boy.
His mind drifted back to the water spillt on the floor of Omi's room. Memories seemed to rush through his mind, again...
Broken glass. Making sharp sounds as the shards of a broken wine glass showered over the floor. Their sharp edges barely tainted with the red.
Blood. Dripping from the gashes across his stomach, legs, and arms. Tiny droplets of the crimson liquid finding their way onto the floor amidst the tiny pieces of glittering crystal.
Pain. His hands were covered in thick blood. He felt as if nails were driving themselves through his palms, through his legs and stomach; scraping across the skin of his back.
Eyes. Watching him, wirth unconcealed mirth. Not bothering to mask their amusement as the skin of their eyes crinkled and their laughter wrung out.
Water. Everywhere; surrounding him. Splashing against himself; against the floors, like white champagne from a broken glass.
He felt himself reaching his limit quickly, as sweat beads formed on the back of his neck and across his face. As hurridly as possible, he dashed into his room and flung himself onto the bed. He passed out.
To Be Continued...
* * * * *
Notes--
[1] It is quite obvious that Ken -doesn't- speak much English. This will be quite important, later on. I will not type out his Japanese thoughts/speech all in Japanese, though. So you can breathe now. :)
Miri: Aa... I want Ra-Ra!
Seph: Well he's a few chapters away. This is only the prologue. _
Miri: But-but...! I need Ran!
Ken: We all do. ^_^
Miri: ...You're willing to share, then? ^_^
Ken: No.
See that review button, right... there? *Points at the bottom left-hand of the window.* Click it! Click it, now!
Disclaimer-- The thought of me owning Weiss Kreuz makes me want to dance. I don't see me dancing anywhere, anytime soon. I also do not own "Somewhat Damaged" by NIN, nor do I own Trent Reznor or the band.
Warnings-- Cliche-ness (for now), slight mention of torture.
//blah// -- Thoughts (ex: //What should I say, now?//)
"blah" -- Dialogue (ex: "Your mom.")
„blah" -- Visably Foreign Dialogue (ex: „Wie ghet's?")
* * * * *
Somewhat Damaged * Seph Lorraine
Prologue
* * * * *
He stood there, tucking the smooth brown strands of hair behind his ears. Nervous. His hands seemed to shake with a fear that was visable to even the weakest of human eyes. His brown eyes, simply remained glued to that one spot on the floor... The small puddle of spillt water from where a glass was dropped, clumbsily, before it's holder retired to bed.
Omi watched the boy in his doorway, with wide-eyed curiosity. He had only known Ken for one day, and he had gathered already that the boy was somewhat distant. Though, at the moment, the Japanese boy looked nothing short of frightened.
Brown eyes remained on the spot.
Blue-eyes glanced at the empty water-glass, one large crack near it's rim, beside his bedside table and sighed. What was going on? What was Ken doing up so late?
"Ken...?" He called out softly, raising himself to a sitting position in his bed. "Is something wrong?"
The brown-eyed boy in the doorway snapped his vision onto the small blond in bed, "Ano... Omi. I come to saying: your night is good." The boy in the doorway stmbled over his English, horribly, but alas, the blond managed to make sense of the words. [1]
"Yes, Ken. Good night to you, too." Omi smiled lightly. "Is that all?"
The Japanese boy's smile was very small. It was really nothing more than a light squint of the eyes. From the doorway he gave a half-bow and nodded, translating the words in his head. Trying to make sense of the English that the blond was speaking. It was difficult to understand the harsh language these people spoke. English sounded rough and crude to his ears, and even though he disliked it, he knew he would eventually speak it. Though, it was difficult, when the one person who showed any interest in getting to know you couldn't communicate effectively with you.
"Yes!" The brown-haired boy spoke, without thinking. He frowned again at the blonds slightly confused smile. His eyes betrayed him though, there was something on his mind.
"Don't worry, Ken. You'll like it here, once you get used to it." The blond began lowering himself into bed again, "Now, go to sleep, ok?"
"...What?" 'Ken' tried to translate the blond's speech, but to no avail.
Too discouraged to focus, he nodded again, closing the door and leaned against the wall in the hallway. It was past curfew, but he really didn't want to return to his bed. Nothing could distract him from his thoughts, when he lay down to sleep. He would be lost in his memories. Even driving screws under his fingernails seemed much more pleasant than remembering.
"You." A deep voice resounded from one end of the hallway, causing Ken to snap open his eyes and turn to face the voice's embodiment.
A man with fierce eyes, protected by thinly-rimmed glasses stood at the end of the hallway in a pristine white suit. Two thin locks of black hair fell lightly into his vision, but seemed nothing of a bother to him.
Ken lifted himself from the wall and bowed timidly, "Konba...Hello, Mr. Crawford." He managed to get out. The name came out with an undeniable Japanese flourish. Kurafurudo.
"Why are you out of your room past curfew?" The man crossed his arms, and kept his cold gaze on the Japanese boy before him.
Taking a moment to try to decipher what had been spoken to him, Ken frowned, "I... am outside."
The man in white blinked, his eyebrow twitching in what could be classified as frustration, "No. You are inside. Why are you out of your room?"
Another moment passed with Ken trying to understnad the elder man, "I said 'Good Night'." He pointed to the door that led into Omi's room.
// This job is really beginning to irk me... // Crawford sighed heavily, nodding, this time, and hardening his glare, "I understand you are new here. And you obviously don't know much English. Therefor, I shall merely give you a warning this time. You are not to be out of your room after the 22nd hour. Not even to say 'Good Night' to your little friends. Am I clear?" He paused, waiting for a sign of comprehension from the Japanese boy before him.
"I..." At loss for a responce (as he hadn't understood anything the American man had just said), Ken frowned and merely said the only thing that had gotten him anywhere with anyone that day, "Yes!" It was one of the very few things he did know in Englsih.
Nodding, the teacher pointed to the stair case. "Go to your room."
The brown-eyed boy nodded, walking off to the staircase and heading down for the 4th story to find his room. He couldn't help but sulk to himself lightly. Why did he bother speaking to anyone, anyway? The blond boy was the only one who had bothered to talk to him, since he had arrived... Even if they hardly understood each other, Ken felt himself welcomed by the younger boy.
His mind drifted back to the water spillt on the floor of Omi's room. Memories seemed to rush through his mind, again...
Broken glass. Making sharp sounds as the shards of a broken wine glass showered over the floor. Their sharp edges barely tainted with the red.
Blood. Dripping from the gashes across his stomach, legs, and arms. Tiny droplets of the crimson liquid finding their way onto the floor amidst the tiny pieces of glittering crystal.
Pain. His hands were covered in thick blood. He felt as if nails were driving themselves through his palms, through his legs and stomach; scraping across the skin of his back.
Eyes. Watching him, wirth unconcealed mirth. Not bothering to mask their amusement as the skin of their eyes crinkled and their laughter wrung out.
Water. Everywhere; surrounding him. Splashing against himself; against the floors, like white champagne from a broken glass.
He felt himself reaching his limit quickly, as sweat beads formed on the back of his neck and across his face. As hurridly as possible, he dashed into his room and flung himself onto the bed. He passed out.
To Be Continued...
* * * * *
Notes--
[1] It is quite obvious that Ken -doesn't- speak much English. This will be quite important, later on. I will not type out his Japanese thoughts/speech all in Japanese, though. So you can breathe now. :)
Miri: Aa... I want Ra-Ra!
Seph: Well he's a few chapters away. This is only the prologue. _
Miri: But-but...! I need Ran!
Ken: We all do. ^_^
Miri: ...You're willing to share, then? ^_^
Ken: No.
See that review button, right... there? *Points at the bottom left-hand of the window.* Click it! Click it, now!