Umlaut [1/1]

[genkischuldich.livejournal.com]

Title: Umlaut [1/1]
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Theme: Rock star
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz, all characters.
Word count: 2130.
Genre: Comedy, genfic, badfic, AU.
Rating: Schuldig swears occasionally. Nothing serious.
Summary: A semi-obscure goth band visits a shop run by four boys who share a secret past together.
Notes: British spellings abound.

 

Umlaut

 

"Your photo's all over Déjà vu"," Brad told Schuldig, holding up an underground magazine. "It's making me ill."

Schuldig took his seat at the breakfast table. "Then don't read it. I'm the face of Schwärz and if you don't like that--" He grabbed a sliced of toast from the rack and bit into it ferociously to suggest a threat he hadn't conceptualised yet.

A guitar pick whistled through the air and embedded itself into the magazine's masthead.

Without moving his head, Brad raised his eyes to look at it and then at the man who'd thrown it -- Jei. "Oh. That's a sharpened one." He sighed deeply and threw the magazine back onto the table. The pick remained upright, quivering. "Once we're done with breakfast, there'll be a short briefing and --"

"Already know i' all." Schuldig's mouth was full. "Gonna mee' tha' girl, ge' pho--" He gave up and swallowed. "--get photographed and have a press conference. Not like we need a mission briefing."

"Actually, yes we do." It was the first time Nagi had spoken. He never spoke unless he had something to say. Like many boys of his age with an interest in music, he preferred not to speak and spent most of his time fiddling with his theremin instead.

He was also the only one not dressed for the upcoming photo shoot. The other three members were all wearing outfits which looked as if goth clubbing gear had been cross-pollinated by the clothes you'd pull on in a hurry to grab a carton of milk from the convenience store.

Although he favoured cloaks and top hats on stage, Brad paired jeans with a tight T-shirt and a few simple silver chains on his belt and around his neck. Schuldig wore a long Victorian frock coat and had apparently decided dark green was his lucky colour today. Jei's clothes looked as if someone had bought a full outfit from a cheap department store like Seiyu and taken a knife to it; this wasn't far from the truth.

Nagi wore his school uniform.

They would meet the girl at her workplace, pose for candid and spontaneous shots of them meeting for the first time, and then change into elaborate costumes before the real photo shoot.

"If we're going to make it big, then we need something bigger than Déjà vu. We've got a great story, with this girl -- um --"

"Fujimiya Aya," said Brad, without missing a beat.

"Right." Nagi agreed. "So Brad is going to meet her and declare himself so moved by her story that he'll write a song about her. I'll engineer a grassroots internet campaign for us to record a studio version. It gets to number one in the mainstream charts in about a month from now."

Schuldig cocked his head to one side and started singing to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star: "Aya, Aya, she's like a flower. My love for her grows by the hour."

"This is why I'm the lyricist. And composer," said Brad as he massaged his temples.

"Also, we can't use the 'l' word. Admiring and respecting fans is great, but we don't want to give the other fans a feeling of competition."

Jei's head snapped up. "I want to see her covered in blood."

"We can't say that either."

"Okay. Got it. No hitting on the girl and keep her far away from Jei. You see? We didn't need a fuckin' meeting."

Schuldig walked over to the door and started strapping himself into his platform boots. The buckles went all the way up to his mid-thigh and had special bronze kneecaps to allow him to bend to a limited degree. He smiled as he did so -- even he could appreciate what a windfall this was. Some girl -- Fujimiya Aya or whatever -- had woken from a coma after her brother played their CD for her at the hospital.

"It's mission time," he said to no one in particular.

***

"We want a few photographs with customers actually in the shop and reacting to what they've just seen. This needs to look unplanned." The photographer, Kitaura Karen, told them.

The members of Schwärz entered the music shop one by one, looking around them. It was the strangest sight they'd seen, even accounting for the giant inflatable llamas that were part of their stage routine on their 2008 winter tour.

There were no instruments. Nothing. Sure, there were racks for guitars, but they were empty.

"Heads up," said Kitaura as the four shop staff approached. In a lower voice, she whispered, "The red-head is Fujimiya Ran, the girl's brother."

Ran strode forward with a look of misery and determination on his face. "I really don't know how to thank you enough. I can't return to the way things were, but one part of my life is back in place."

He enveloped Schuldig's outstretched hands with his own. The camera flashed and Schuldig desperately tried to think of something that would make him cry. Eventually he remembered his mother trying to force him into lederhosen on his fifth birthday and the tears flowed. Slowly.

"I'm the lyricist," Brad muttered. "I wrote the words."

***

Brad, like the other members, had a few minutes to kill while Kitaura took some reaction shots of the customers and recorded a few comments from them.

He leaned back and folded his arms in front of a sign that explained what the shop was selling. It was a short guide to the playing and maintenance of an air guitar. Gradually he became aware that someone was standing behind him. He turned.

"You're selling air guitars? How does that work? How can you possibly make money?"

Ran said nothing and looked past Brad.

A junior high school girl elbowed Brad out of the way and ground to a halt in front of Ran. She glanced over her shoulder just to confirm Brad wasn't a customer. "I know you're closing, but I really needed a guitar. Like, now."

Ran's expression was a mix of disdain and calm acceptance.

The schoolgirl picked up a chunk of air from a nearby guitar stand. "I want this one. It's my favourite model."

Ran took it from her and looked her square in the eyes. She squealed involuntarily.

"An excellent choice. This is a 2007 Gibson Les Paul. In... red and orange," he decided after a short pause.

"Omigod! Like your hair! And that sweater!"

Ran closed his eyes and something about him seemed to suggest a samurai to Brad. He rested the air guitar on one knee and tuned it in silence. He then played just a few bars, but Brad had to admit was the best playing he'd heard since he was listening to 'All Along The Watchtower' in bed on the radio and accidentally hit the mute button with his foot.

Ran handed it back to the girl. "Now you try."

She gripped the air roughly at first, but Ran took her hand and placed it further up.

"Thanks," she said, flashing him a warm smile.

"You're welcome. That guitar is five hundred yen, but we also have Les Pauls from the 1950s for one thousand yen."

The girl's smile faded for a moment. "Err... I'll take the five hundred yen one. Could you show me some more chords?"

"Unfortunately, we're already closed. Is tomorrow okay?"

"Sure!" She fished around in her purse for a five hundred yen coin. Once he'd taken it, she skipped off with her new air guitar tucked under her arm.

"Oh," said Crawford. "I like it."

***

"We're almost done for the day," Omi told Schuldig. "We'll get Ran to clear out the last remaining customers, because he's best at it."

He frowned and, with delicate fingers, straightened out an air guitar that was crooked in its stand. Not a single customer was watching. Schuldig's curiosity was piqued.

"Why did you do that?"

"Oh, customer service is very important in Japan. We have to make sure to display our guitars in the best possible light."

Schuldig couldn't help himself. "Do you think the customers will notice?"

"Oh definitely! All our customers are super-observant! They always notice when Youji changes his hairstyle or when Ran isn't wearing his purple contacts." The boy laughed, which was surely more eerie than intended. "They even found out our blood types!"

Omi picked up a nearby air guitar. "I have to be careful because I'm so clumsy. I once knocked over a rack of Strats and ended up having to give Youji my pocket money for a whole three months!" He strummed the air a few times and hummed along.

Schuldig bit back a smirk. "Can you hear it?"

Omi looked at him, his eyes wide and gleaming with pure joy. "Of course! Can't you...?"

***

The boy looked up at him with gentle eyes through a fluffy fringe. A handkerchief usually used for wiping off sweat during the summertime was wrapped around the lower half of his face.

"What's your name?" asked Kitaura with a perfectly-waxed eyebrow raised.

There was a pause and the boy's eyes moved rapidly from side-to-side. "Kadahi," he said eventually.

"That's not a Japanese name..." noted Nagi with curiosity.

He suddenly felt a hand resting on his shoulder and looked up to see a blond guy wearing sunglasses.

"Leave Kadahi, um, Nke alone. He's not too bright. Come on, we can talk over by the hot water dispenser."

The man indicated Nagi should leave, but he stayed where he was, looking at the masked boy in front of him. He saw fire burning in his eyes, but he said nothing

"No, I've seen you before," insisted Kitaura, jabbing a finger at the boy. "We did a photo shoot together, back when I was a model. It's Hidaka Ken, isn't it?"

Hidaka Ken tore off the handkerchief he'd been wearing. "Yes, but I can explain everything."

"On the record?" asked Kitaura, leaning forward.

***

"Okay, we're all here!" Kitaura said, tapping her hands on the table in front of her like a drum roll. "This is... Hidaka Ken!"

The four members of Schwärz looked at him, all with blank expressions. Kitaura met their collective gaze with steely eyes. Nagi was the first to crack.

"Okay! Okay! I know who he is!" Nagi turned to the other members and held up his hands in surrender. "All the girls at school were crazy about him roughly three years ago."

"Exactly!" screamed Kitaura. "Jimmy's Entertainment's most beautiful singer... until he was found dancing naked in a park at three in the morning!"

Ken stepped forward and shot her a sidelong glance. "As I've already explained, my mineral water was spiked by a rival band member."

Youji took off his sunglasses. "In fact, we were all members of Jimmy's Entertainment, although some of us made it bigger. But you remember Kudou Youji too, right? Singer for 'It's Showa Time'?"

All of Schwärz shook their head, this time telling the truth.

"I was on the verge of my debut," Ran said in a quiet voice. "But the executives told me that 'Kat Tuna' sounded like pet food and I didn't make it. The music industry dealt all of us a tough hand and we decided to recover in private. We didn't want to run into any of our fans, so we opened a music shop together."

Schuldig smashed his fist into his open palm. "That explains everything! Particularly why there are four guys with male-model good looks running a music shop on the back streets of Shinjuku. That would be extremely unlikely otherwise."

Omi smiled and added. "I never debuted, but I get As in music all the time."

"That's not necessary to make it big!" said a booming voice from the back of the shop.

'Rage' Takatori was a manager well-known for his aggressive contract negotiations and ferocious purple sideburns. He was dressed in his trademark flared white jumpsuit and, from the neck down, looked just like Elvis.

Rage threw wide his arms. "We'll stage a comeback. Both bands, working together."

He did a double-take at Omi. "Oh my... You..." Rage's expression was impossible to read. "It seems rock is... in your blood."

"Why are you pausing and squinting like that? What are you trying to say?"

"Let's just say you were... born to rock."

"Well, if you're asking me to join, I'm in," said Omi, his lips trembling at the thought of finally making it to the stage.

"Us too!" said Youji quickly, grabbing Ken.

"Yes... Yes, I think so," agreed Ran. "I'll have to check with Ay--"

Rage cut him off in a burst of laughter. "Excellent! With a team like this, we'll conquer Japan, then the world!"

It was almost as if he knew something no one else did...

END.