Smushed Grapes
Part 3



"Why the hell did you do it?!"

The five year old boy cowered in the corner, his small cheek marked by an angry red hand print. He clutched his shaking hands tightly together, trying desperately not to cry. "I didnít mean to otousama. It was an accident. I just-"

The huge man loomed over the boy. "You little liar! I told you what would happen if you ever used those damned powers again!"

The boy squeezed his eyes shut as his father came closer. "Onegai otousama. I promise it wonít ever happen again. It was just that-"

"Iím sick of your pathetic excuses Nagi," came the cold voice of his mother. "I wonít have people blaming me for giving birth to a freak!"

Tears burned at his dark eyes and despite his resolve not to cry, the salty liquid still splashed down wan cheeks. "Go-gomen! O-o-onegai okaasama..."

"Shut up you stupid freak!" That large hand swept across Nagiís small face with such brutal force that his head slammed into the wall. "Iíll teach you to lie to me Nagi!" He kicked the small boy in his stomach.

"Is this how you behave after all weíve done for you?" his mother demanded. "We feed you and clothe you and try to give you a good life. Isnít it enough that we put up with a freak like you? And now you repay us by flaunting your evil powers around!"

Nagi whimpered, his body crumpling painfully as his father continued to assault him. He had tried to explain to them that he hadnít meant to use his powers, that theyíd only come out by accident. Four big boys from the fifth-form class had been picking on him and calling him names. They would have beaten him if he hadnít thrown the picnic table at them. The teacher whoíd been on yard duty had pointedly ignored him when the four boys had been about to beat up on him but the minute heíd thrown the table in self-defense, sheíd grabbed him roughly by his ear and taken him to the principalís office. The principal, a close friend to his father, had slapped him hard and then complained to his parents.

Tears brooked down his face and puddled onto the shirt of his uniform. What had he done that was so wrong? Why did everyone hate him? Everyday mothers and fathers come to school to pick up their kids. They all looked so happy, as the parents hugged their kids and the kids would show their parents drawings theyíd made or tests theyíd done well on. Nagi had drawn a picture for his mother once, hoping that maybe if he gave her something like all the other kids did, she would love him and hug him too. She hadnít. She ripped up the picture saying that she didnít want such an ugly painting to clutter her spotless kitchen. She had called him evil and his father had smacked him, ordering him never to bring home filthy pictures of devilish monsters again.

The picture hadnít been of devilish monsters. He had drawn a picture of his family, with him in the middle and both his parents on either side of him, holding his hand. Theyíd all been smiling, like a real family.

His father yanked him off the floor with one hand, his other hand fisted. Pain burst open from the blow as Nagiís nose began to bleed. "Iíll beat those cursed powers out of you boy!"

"How dare you embarrass us in front of the whole school like that! You horrible freak!"

Neither of them stopped, their cruel words more painful then their physical attacks. And then came the most devastating assault.

"Why donít we just throw the brat out?"

The man stopped and stared down at the sobbing, bleeding little boy. "Now why didnít we think of that before? We could say he ran away from home. No one would care."

Frenzied panic grabbed Nagi with icy fingers. No! Surely, surely they didnít hate him that much! His breathing hitched painfully as his broken ribs heaved. He clenched his eyes shut as his father reached for him.

It was an accident. Fear trigged his telekinetic powers, strong powers that the five-year old boy hadnít learned to control yet.

The powerful force, a product of hysterical terror, exploded from him before he could attempt to control it. His fatherís large form was wrenched back at a shocking speed and the man was crushed beneath the force of striking the fireplace across the room. There was sickeningly loud thud as his neck smashed into the edge of the mantle, blood erupting from the solid opening in his forehead.

A womanís scream echoed throughout the living room, Nagi traumatized into immobility. His eyes were frozen open as he watched his mother kneel beside his father, shrieking and shaking.

Her eyes were wild when she rounded upon her trembling son. "YOUíVE KILLED HIM!!!!"

Nagi couldnít move, he couldnít even breathe. His small body was motionless, save for the thin trickle of blood that was oozing out from the cut on the side of his head.

His mother stood, tears dripping down her face, her voice calm. "Youíve killed your own father. Are you happy now? You murderer!"

"Iie." The tiny word spilled from torn lips, black eyes trained on the crumpled form of his father. "Masaka..."

"I should have killed you a long time ago."

His eyes swung to his mother. She had retrieved his fatherís gun from the desk beside the fireplace. It was cold and black in her pale hand. Outside it began to rain, the wind shrieking violently.

"Okaasama..."

She fired, the gun yelling furiously in the small room. The bullet tore through the wall, an inch beside his head.

Nagi screamed then, the anguished sound tearing itself from the very tissue of his lungs. The gun was jerked savagely from her hand, the sheer energy of his powers initiating another shot.

The soul-tearing screams continued as another body fell limply to the floor.

"Looks like youíve really done it this time bishonen. No wonder youíre so frigged up."

The dark haired boy looked up at the sound of the nasally voice, his frantic shrieks dying. Lounging against the living room doorframe was a tall, red haired man. "Na-nanda omai w-wa?"

The man stepped into the room, looking around. "First time Iíve been inside your little dream world brat." He smirked down at the bloody bodies. "You sure did a number on them."

Nagi huddled deeper against the side of the sofa. "It...it was an accident!" Tears welled up in huge, ebony eyes. "I-I didnít mean to! Don-donít te-tell. I-I..." he broke off, sobbing painfully.

"You really were a cute kids Nagi," the redhead commented. "Too bad youíre wailing like a fucking baby."

He wiped at his eyes, trying to stop crying and failing miserably. "Why are you here? What do you want with me?"

White teeth flashed as the man grinned. "Iím glad you asked me that bishonen. Take a look at your lovely mother. See who it is that you really love."

Liquid eyes grew confused. "Wakarimasen."

"Go have a look and then youíll understand."

Nagi crawled slowly towards his mother, his body clenching painfully. Everything was hurting so much. One pale hand was stretched towards him and it was odd because the hand was wearing black leather, fingerless gloves. "Nani?"

"Look closer little Nagi," the redhead urged, smirking.

Nagi edged closer, dread enveloping him and now he could see. It wasnít his mother that heíd killed. It was a silver-haired man wearing an eye patch. His voice was a raspy croak, his entire body shuddering. "Da-dare...?"

"Farfarello." His nasally voice was a jubilant jeer. "Youíve killed your precious Farfie. How does that feel Nagi?"

Nagi screamed.

~*~*~*~

I jerked upright with a strangled cry, my heart beat leaping into my throat. With a trembling hand, I pushed aside sweaty bangs from my damp forehead. Disoriented, I tried to grasp my bearings. I was sitting on the bed in a dark room that was lit only with a low burning candle.

I panted weakly for air as a few terse moments passed and then I knew.

A dream. Of course.

"What else were you expecting Nagi?"

That familiar nasally voice.

Schulderich was lounging against the doorframe, the light from the hallway falling upon his vibrant locks. Just like blood smearing upon the carpet, just like in my dream. "I didnít know that you offed your Ďrents, Nagi."

"Stay out of my dreams," I bit out tightly, still wheezing.

He strolled into the room, ignoring me. "Pretty gutsy for a five-year old. Guess youíre a natural at killing, eh?"

My hands clenched into fists. I blocked my mind from him and refused to answer.

He smirked and idly picked up a random knife from Farfarelloís collection. "Truth hurts, donít it bishonen?"

"I told you never to call me that," I hissed angrily.

A fine, red brow arched. "Oh? And why not, brat? You are pretty. Pretty little Nagi is growing up."

"Shut up!"

He laughed, an infuriatingly condescending sound. "Is that the best you can do? Well I suppose your blindingly stupid ignorance can be credited to your little bishonen innocence."

I narrowed my eyes. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Or maybe you arenít so innocent afterall." He ran one slender digit across the blade of the knife. "Tell me Nagi, how does it feel be in love with a complete psycho?"

My heart lurched, tightening painfully inside of my chest. I stared at my older teammate in horrified shock.

"You should know by now that you canít hide from me brat. I know everything, even if you donít know it." Indolent jade eyes locked with mine. "Nothing in your mind is off limits to me. Itís painfully obvious that youíve fallen head over ass in love with that one-eyed lunatic over there."

No! No, this couldnít be! I wonít let it! He didnít know what he was talking about!

"Ah but I do," he drawled out, my mind an open book for him to read in my panicked state. "And thatís the *real* reason you canít stand it when he cuts himself up or when Brad and I treat him like shit, isnít it? It hurts because you love him and *thatís* why you think about him all the time and spend all your time looking after him and telling him about your little problems and-"

"SHUT UP!" The words exploded from my mouth before I could think another thought. I was shaking with pure rage. "Just shut the bloody fuck up."

"And," he continued as though Iíd not spoken a word, "It just kills you to know that he probably doesnít give a ratís ass about you. Which is more than likely since he doesnít know what love is. But you already know that, donít you bishonen?" He smirked.

Farfarelloís desk and dresser and bookshelf rattled furiously, the door opening and slamming shut. All of Farfarelloís knives rattled as my fury swelled, the entire contents of the room shaking.

Schulderich jeered, easily dodging the books that were falling from the bookshelf. "You are so fucking pathetic Nagi. Donít you agree with me Farfie?"

I whirled around, the room falling silent and still. One pale amber eye gazed up at me as Schulderichís mocking laughter echoed behind me.

He was awake. He had heard everything.

Tears were already gushing down my cheeks by the time I reached my room.