Mohji Kudou

Home. I'm so tired.

No, no. I take it back. It's not home, it's a house.

Still tired.

They'll be waiting for me. They're always waiting for me. I don't want to see them. I just want to go to sleep. But that won't happen - it never does.

Schuldig will want to 'talk' with me. Fafarello will need feeding, bathing - and then I'll have to lock him up for the night. I talk about him like a dog.

He is a dog. We all are.

Nagi will greet me, at the door with a silent wave. "Doing his homework" - not really. Nagi never does his homework. I'll offer help, but he won't need it - he was "just finishing up."

Schuldig will go out, find someone and fuck them senseless. I won't see him for a few days.

Fafarello will get out, find some innocent to torment, then kill. Unless, of course, the child agrees to 'forsake the Lord'.

Nagi and I will sit in silence, and I'll offer him a cup of coffee. "No thanks, not thirsty," he'll say, softly. I'll make him a cup anyway, and he'll drink it slowly - careful not to burn his tongue.

When he's done we will go upstairs together, and I'll fall asleep in his arms. He'll play with my hair and tuck me into bed, alone, before creeping back into his room for the night.

Fafarello will return, bloody, but pleased with himself, and he will slither into his cell - back under his little rock.

Nagi will be at the door of the cell later, and will bathe the madman a second time - averting his eyes as his hands trail over that mangel white body, soapy and bloodstained.

Fafarello will sit quietly and let Nagi touch him. He always fights me, afraid of punishment. And he's different with Nagi.

Schuldig will be back on the streets by that time, looking for some virgin to de-flower.

I'll be dreaming - of delicate hands and silky brown hair and large violet-blue eyes.

Fafarello won't touch Nagi - untill the boy is toweling him off. Full lips will be pressed to Nagi's temples, and then down. Nagi will push him away - just as he does when I kiss him - and tell Fafarello to save it for his Toys.

It will be the usual, stressful evening - untill I'm asleep.

I park the car. But this is odd. Fafarello's vehicle - yes, we let him drive - isn't in it's usual place.

Not a good sign.

There's a knot in my stomach as I open the door. Nagi on one side of the room, Schuldig on the other. Screaming.

"If you want him so much, you can have him." Nagi's voice is soft, as always.

"Brat! He LOVES you!"

"It's not my fault."

"I want him to - "

"HUSH!" A third voice, behind me. Fafarello pushed his way into the room. Charming, as always. The madman would be our voice of reason for the night.

Various pieces of furniture hid the floor. Nagi is staring at me, wide-eyed. Fafarello has Schuldig against the wall.

"You're jealousy does not suit you," the white-haired man is purring at Schuldig. "Don't force us to watch your mental breakdown."

"You - "


The boy has pushed past me, and is running away, as fast and hard as he can. Fafarello's hand is over Schuldig's mouth, but he's screaming so loudly - inside my mind.

"Run." Fafarello's eye is burning through me. A gun. He has a gun. Pointed at me.


And for the first time in his life, the Oracle was wrong.