Wünsche des Herzens

The character of Schuldig is based on an existing charater from the anime Weiss Kreuz. However, all others are original.
A story of affection, loss and revitalization from the most unusual of sources. Eventually the rating will go up if I chose to continue it.


Chapter 1

“Vati?”
“Hmph?”
“Was Mamma very lovely?”
“Ja, very.”
“Onkel Azai said she was to die from.”
“For…”
“Vati?”
“Hmph?”
“Did you love Mamma very much?”
“Ja, very much.” The red head smiled uncertainly at the little girl with the mismatched eyes and dark pigtails.
“How much?”
“Your Mamma’s loss is the only regret I have ever allowed myself.”
“What’s a regret?”
“Something that cannot be taken back, but you would wish to have undone.”
“Vati?”
Gentle eyes beleagured the questions he had learned to expect.
“If you loved her—“
“Love her.”
“If you love her so very much—why do you never talk about her?”
Schuldig regarded his six year old daughter steadily, at a loss as to how to respond. Like so many other such occurrences, he just didn’t have the heart to reply.
“Yo, Rot-kun,” a hearty voice hailed from behind him. It was rare for him not to notice the other’s approach or the pattering of miniscule feet that accompanied the meandering gait nowadays. It was with a gushing sense of relief that he took in the rangy brunet man and his two small companions, both sporting familiar emerald eyes and devil may cry grins. The twins would be heartbreakers once they grew into their feet, just like their old man.
“Vati Katchen,” he smirked fondly over his shoulder stifling a grunt as Kanaye blind sided him, scrabbled onto the park bench and into his lap babbling excitedly about the huge goose he had just harassed.
“It was so big and ugly—he was really mean too! He said hiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssssssssssss!” The rounded, soft featured face scrunched up and chubby digits hooked into terrifying claws as the story was relayed to his father’s friend who paid him the requisite amount of heed.
The other child walked more slowly, staying close to the tall brunet’s legs, not so close as to cower, but decidedly more cautious than his brother. Schuldig could already feel the niggling irregularity of the child’s thoughts, he could probably sense the vestiges of depression that had overshadowed their sunny repose. It must trouble him to know there is sadness this immense so near him. The boy seemed on the verge of wariness, until he caught sight of Kaiya as she scooted to her knees on the bench to look for her preferred playmate. It had never really concerned him that his daughter was so introverted, simply because of the little male that shyly approached the back of the bench finally straying from Azi’s side to offer the older girl, older by two and a half months, a warm, tidy smile.
He need never worry that his child would find love in the world as long as Kurisaki Kisho remembered her fondly. Psychologist the world over would deny the capacity for attraction at their age, but there are some things that simply defy explanation.
“All ready addicted to older women and he can’t even tie his shoes properly,” Schuldig commented absently frowning indulgently as his daughter returned the grin and reached down to pat Kisho’s soft, auburn locks. She had always doted on the quieter child even when they had been infants.
“Least he comes by it honestly. He’s not the only heartbreaker around though,” Azi replied good naturedly lifting his more rambunctious son off the melancholy red-head’s lap and clamping an arm around wriggling hips. “Schuldig is not a jungle gym, Kanaye. Take Kisho and Kaiya-chan to play. No farther than the swing set though, I want to be able to see you from here,” the soothing baritone instructed as scarred hands held his son’s attention for him.
“Hai, otosan,” the small face erupted into a grin as Kanaye bucked and twisted in mid-air eager to be on his own. The child had the attention span of a gnat realizing its non-existent lifespan.
“Come on, Kisho, Kai-chan, let’s play!” Laughter bubbled over as he sped behind the bench the men were sitting on and snagged his brother’s arm, shooting a beguiling look up at the pigtail sporting girl.
Schuldig could register the compelling moment of indecision from his daughter, she was not so distracted as to forget about her father’s lack of an answer. Whether she would be willing to let the issue slide or not was the topic of debate behind those piercingly intelligent eyes he would bet his next mission’s pay on it.
She knew her Vati wanted to hide, that he hurt and she couldn’t make it better. Only her Mamma could have done that, she was sure—though she had no way to know. Her Vati was sad and Kisho-kun knew it too. He had told her that he felt it and it was a scary kind of hurt.
“Kai-chan,” a gruff whisper took her eyes from her Vati’s weary face. “Kai-chan, my otosan will help. Kai-chan, I know.”
He had answered her heart’s questions so often without being asked, he was weird that way. “Hai.” Smiling, she popped a kiss on her Vati’s narrow chin and bolted from the bench to follow Kisho to where his brother was already sailing toward heaven on the swings. Wondering vaguely what it might be like to fly.
Watching after the children, Azi couldn’t help but notice the dissipating tension in the German. He knew if he waited long enough, the man would speak on his own. It had never helped to question the red-head—there were just some things that didn’t work on a telepath.
It didn’t take long for the slender, whip strong assassin to drop his head into his hands and snarl in pent frustration. Why did it have to be so damned complicated? “What do I tell her when she asks about her mother?” He didn’t expect the brunet man beside him to have the answers. Hell, God didn’t even have them and the two of them had become drinking buddies since Kaiya was born.
“Tell her the truth,” Azi replied evenly. It was hard to think that Zandari was gone, even six years after the fact. It was even harder to think the German, Schuldig the self-proclaimed Guilty, unrepentant bastard of the neo-Gestapo enforcers encroaching on Japanese soil, was still bleeding from the unclosing wound. Until he had witnessed the red-head breaking down at her bedside, he would have denied the man held an emotion not sparked by hate or malice.
“I don’t have the words,” Schuldig moaned raising miserable eyes partially veiled by unruly bangs to plead with the semi-retired agent. “I have no words that express who she was, there are none I have ever learned in all the languages I’ve encountered that carry her worth.”
Nonplused by the anguish apparent in his one time enemy, Azi swept his fingers across the other’s forehead, pressing meaningfully against his skull and carrying stray hair away from those glossing eyes. “Then show her.”
“She’s too little to understand what I can do. It would scare her.”
“Let her learn through dreams and it won’t seem so scary.” Generous lips eased into a reassuring smile as warm, dexterous fingers cupped the red-head’s cheek for a bare moment. “Besides, Kisho doesn’t frighten her and I know he tells her things.”
Surprised at the brunet’s perceptiveness, Schuldig pulled back attempting not to gap or frown his incredulity. “How—“
“Did I come to that conclusion all on my own,” Azi finished chuckling as he wrapped his arms over the back of the bench and curved his spine to a comfortable angle. Smirking playfully at his unlikely friend, he said, “The kid knows things that are simply amazing. He’s the one that asked to come here today. Said Kai-chan needed him and pitched a bloody fit when I said I was too busy.”
“Strange… Kaiya is borderline null.”
A startled look flashed across the brunet’s face.
“She’s hard to read, even for me. It’s rare that two ‘gifted’ humans would produce a normal, nearly impossible to throw a null. We almost did it though.”
“Gomen.”
“No need to be sorry. It just makes it harder to know—if she’s okay.”

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