Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warning: slash, fighting, cursing bleeding, etc.

Pairing: Everyone/Kyle

Summary: Kyle has a curse. It's intensifying with every passing day. But Kyle knows the truth, and as the Rose Prince, he knows that he'll never be happy.

Based off: Barajou No Kiss.

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It could be because he doesn't have a heart that he breaks them.

A beautiful, enchanting, frozen-burning-amazing, green eye on a book, as the other one was hiding behind a red eye-patch, matching the soft, gently curled flaming red hair that surrounded his face.

A slender body, with softly defined muscle hiding behind a baggy green turtleneck and a pair of skinny jeans, as it leaned against the back of his chair, the book calmly resting in his hands in front of him.

The page flipped.

And people kept staring at the beautiful man, whispering quietly.

Milky pale skin decorated perfectly with light orange freckles.

"Kyle?"

A brave girl walked up to the male, a light blush on her face, as she gulped, obviously nervous.

The male didn't say anything, mainly ignored her, like he did with so many others.

As though he lived in his own universe.

"I... um... I really, really like you so," she gulped, before she took a deep breath, and then blurted, "Would you please go on a date with me?"

The deafening silence was suffocating, "No," Kyle's said simply, before flipping another page.

The girl completely broke down on the spot.

Two of her friends came running in, one trying to comfort her while the other confronted Kyle.

Wrong move.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Brofloski?" she halfway screeched, "She just wanted a fucking date!"

And like always, the male didn't care.

Or at least, he looked like it, before a bored eye blinked, and closed his book.

And for the first time in years, the male looked directly into opposing brown eyes, making all three girls flinch and take a couple of steps back.

Horrible mistake.

"If she..." the voice was soft, and had it been anyone else, people would be straining to hear, "Wanted 'just a date', then why does it half to be me?"

"Because she loves you, d-dipshit!" she yelled back, fear emitting off of her.

Emerald eye blinked at her, and then, very calmly, he stated the fact, "Then, why couldn't she say that? It's just words, isn't it?"

And with that, he turned and walked out of the classroom.

Fifteen minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the start of class, and Kyle came back into the room, gracefully walking towards his seat, and sat down.

That was also the male that had successfully caught many, many hearts.

Heart-breaker Kyle Brofloski.

The male who was always alone, as most people were scared to come near him, and no one really knew how to be when they were with him.

Here at South Park High School for the Rose Knights, and especially in a small mountain town like South Park, the male was well-known.

Alone, and gut-chidingly strong.

Everyone believed that if he was to fall in love, as a knight, he would be unstoppable.

Since the knights could only be powered by the 'special someone' that they had pledged all their loyalty to that was from the Royal blood-line.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, as the red-head smoothly got up and gathered his notebook, his book, and his pencil case, and after opening his book once more, he began to make his way to the door.

Except that Craig was standing in front of him, blocking the only exit of the room.

The blue-chullo wearing male narrowed gray eyes at him, staring down at the male that came a couple of inches short of his shoulders.

That's right, despite how intimidating the male was, he was literally the smallest kid of their freshman class.

"I challenge you," the male said, his husky voice growling through his throat, "Starrk's Pond. At eight."

The emerald eye looked up at the male freezing him on the spot, "See you there," he said simply.

The law of being a knight, or just being in South Park in general, when someone challenges you to a fight, you go for it.

The more fights you win, the bigger your name gets, and more respect you get.

Kyle never lost a fight, and he's at least fought everyone in the school, some three times more than others.

By their middle school days, Kyle was the 'uncrowned king', and was occasionally challenged.

The last time it was public, it was Bridon, and that was ugly to watch.

The word about Craig and Kyle's fight spread faster than wild fire throughout the school.


Craig was on scene at exactly eight o'clock, knowing that the Jewish male would be there soon, he stretched his limbs.

He knew better than to underestimate him.

Five minutes later, the crowd of people parted as an eye-patch wearing red-head stepped onto the scene.

"Craig Tucker," Craig said, extending his left hand as a spear morphed into it, almost as big as himself, "Combat knight. No master."

It was common courtesy, to give your name, your title and type, and if you belonged to anyone.

"Kyle Brofloski," the red-head nodded, "Rose Kingdom," he continued, two daggers appearing at his hands.

A large silence came through, as no one made any comment of his lack-of-introduction. Instead, a the massive amounts of talk of how the male could have met someone from the Rose Kingdom.

Craig tried not to show his fear.

Everyone knew that if a Royalty passed a knight, and allowed them to fight by giving their energy, the Knight would be unstoppable until they killed their Royal.

The two stared at each other, before Craig made the first move, rushing in, spear raised, as the red-head easily moved away to the right.

The black-haired male smirked, and swung right leg up, nearly getting Kyle, but narrowly missing, as he through his left leg over his spear, flipping himself over, trying to hit the red-head.

It didn't work as the male ducked down and rolled away, nearly ten feet behind Craig, back in a ready position, while Craig let his blue-gray eyes find his opponent...

A sharp pain flashed through the back of his leg as he turned around, swinging his spear around to make contact.

Nothing.

Kyle stood back up, boredom slipping through his eyes as he watched his opponent fall over, twirling the said dagger in his hand.

He turned around slowly, staring impassively at the figure on the ground in front of him.

Craig groaned, as he tried to pick himself up.

Not even five minutes.

Barely three minutes.

Silently, Craig wondered how weak he really was.


Cylde couldn't help himself. His best friend was bleeding on the snow around him.


A/N: Might continue this.