Disclaimer: Sadly, no, I do not own Weiss Kreuz. It belongs to Project
                 Weiss and a few other corporations of which I am not a part of. If I
                 did own them, well, you can bet the anime would be a lot longer. XD

                 Warnings: nothing, really. There's a mild allusion to Shounen ai --
                 that's all.

                 ***

                 Two Questions...

                 No seriously, just two. So many nice things come in pairs, ne? There
                 now...

                 First question: Have you ever had green tea? The Japanese call it
                 "o-cha." I rather like that word, just as I like the tea. Since coming
                 to Japan I've had it every morning with breakfast. I like breakfast
                 too, it's one of those simple little pleasures in life. A little
                 pocket of orderly in an otherwise chaotic day. Not that I don't like
                 chaos, but a disruption is a disruption. What can I say?

                 There's Farfarello; more interested in the cutlery than the actual
                 food. Nagi in the next room, ignoring us and cursing his existence.
                 Breakfast is pancakes this morning -- looks like Crawford had a good
                 night. He really went all out.

                 Speaking of Crawford, here comes the bastard now: looking impecable as
                 always.

                 We're like oil and water, Crawford and I. Apart we're pretty good. Mix
                 us together and there's a lot of shaking about to happen and, uh... we
                 taste good on salad? ~laughs~

                 No, no, I'm not doing Crawford. Not that it wouldn't be interesting.
                 I'm watching him now; reading the international section of the
                 newspaper while he eats. Not a crumb will marr that perfect white suit
                 he wears. It's amazing, boring, and enticing, all at the same time.

                 Oh yes, I'd do him; if only to see that perfection flawed. If only to
                 see those perfect brown eyes clouded with imperfect emotion. Maa yo
                 na... a fantasy if you will, if a beautiful one.

                 I keep eating my pancakes and drinking my green tea like I'm not
                 thinking at all. If I stared he'd notice. If I stared elsewhere he'd
                 notice.

                 What's he thinking? I can't help but wonder. Even with it all -- the
                 familiarity of a routine, the newspaper, Farfarello bleeding again, I
                 still only catch a few stray thoughts. Maybe it's the whole foresight
                 thing, maybe he's just a fluke... or maybe, just maybe... I don't want
                 to know. It would ruin the fun of it, after all. If I heard him all
                 the time, this oil might become water as well. And we can't have that.

                 There now, that wasn't so bad, was it? Not too scary, I trust.

                 Oh, the second question? Well, why ask when I already know the answer?

                 **

                 [Written by Inseiko, 2001]