Sunde: Chapter Twenty-Four

/It reminds me of Berlin./

Schuldich's green eyes focused on Liebe's reflection in the glass. "I don't remember."

/How could you? You were doped to the gills and getting your brains fucked out./

"Tactful."

/Truthful./

"Talking to yourself again?" Nagi asked as he came into the room.

Schuldich watched as Liebe retreated, hovering in the back of his mind. "Shut up."

"How eloquent. Your grasp of the human language always astounds me."

Schuldich rolled his eyes and turned around. "What do you want?"

The slight Japanese boy headed over to him, coming to stand beside him at the glass wall. "To see the view."

"Your city is burning."

"It's not my city. Never was."

"Still resentful?"

Nagi slanted gold-brown eyes at him. "What makes you think that?"

Schuldich smirked. "I'm a telepath."

"You don't know everything."

"I never said I did."

Nagi turned to look at the city again. "It's beginning."

"It's been beginning."

"You think Immortality is possible?"

"Anything is possible."

/Anything?/ Liebe whispered into her mind as she touched his shoulder, making him shiver. /You should listen to your own advice sometimes./

One moment she was there, the next, gone; cryptic statement echoing in his ears. Schuldich made a face. "Where's Farfarello?"

"Laughing in a corner and cursing out God."

"Brad?"

"Getting our orders."

Schuldich snorted. "He already knows our orders. He's just doing this to placate them."

"It's what he does best." Nagi shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, though."

"Doesn't it? We've only got his word for it. He could plan to kill us when this is all over," Schuldich said, recalling the incident with the gun.

"Perhaps. But not you."

Schuldich looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Nagi brushed some of his hair out of his eyes as he turned to face Schuldich. "He could never kill you. Farfarello, yes, for obvious reasons. Myself because he could. You? You make him think for himself. He wouldn't want to give that up."

"Liar."

"Take it however you like, Schuldich. You know it's the truth."

There was bitterness in Nagi's voice; anger, hate, longing, jealousy. A multitude of emotions that were all directed at Schuldich. The German stared at Nagi silently for a moment before reaching out and tilting his face up, pressing his mouth to the other boy's. Nagi's lips parted automatically, tongue drawing Schuldich inside. The redhead slowly and carefully kissed Nagi until he couldn't breath. When they finally parted, Nagi was gasping for breath and so was Schuldich.

The redhead gave Nagi a mocking smile that seemed sincere. "You don't want my life," he told him before walking away.

He dug his discman out of his blazer pocket and put on his earphones. Turning it on he skipped to track six and turned up the volume. Going into the other room he flopped down on the couch and threw an arm over his eyes as the music tried to break his eardrums. He let himself go, riding the waves of notes as he freed his mind from the tight control he had it in. With casual indifference he pierced through the veil of chaos that shrouded Tokyo, running other people's thoughts through his own.

It had been months since he had last done this, just listened to the world around him, anchored to his body by the music in his ears. Months since he had filled his head with the voices that had shoved him onto this path. It wasn't his fault that he had this ability. Just a random twist in evolving genetics that had given him this hell that he called life. The city burned, the people screamed, and he listened to their thoughts. He listened where no one but a select few could and danced through the intricacies of insanity.

With a grimace he dragged his mind, his self, back to reality, calling up the silence deep inside him, the silence that he had sold everything for. Mind. Body. Soul. His whole existence wrapped up in a soundless void. But the void was breaking, the masks slipping. He was hearing voices again and this time he had nothing left to sell.

Cool hands trailed up his chest, his throat, his face, tangling through his hair. /You've got a choice, Schuldich./

"And that would be?" he whispered, eyes closed.

/You know what./

"Liebe . . ."

She chuckled softly, sadly, bitterly. /I tried, Schuldich. I tried. But I'm dead and you're alive. It's not my place to help you./

He kept his eyes closed, feeling the coldness wash through his body from hers. "Thank you."

/I told you never to thank me./

"All the same. I mean it."

The hands lifted, her touch faded, her voice silenced. /My crazy little redhead. Who will save you now?/

And just like that, she was gone. A memory, a hallucination, he didn't know which. But it didn't matter anymore. He turned the CD back to track six, his voice falling into the silence like shattered glass.

"Help me . . ."