Summury: Naoya Itsuki is not what he appears. His is a powerful pyschic. He is also involved in the frightening tournament known only as 'Chess'. His only guardiens are three other boys Mana and her friends don't know about. In fact, they don't know anything at all. But when a new group called "Grafters" attacks, secrets can no longer be contained. The lines of loyalty, friendship, and love start to blear. Naoya's deadly secret is revealed. He is a Mind Breaker.
Mana will be shown as basically useless in this story. I don't hate her, I actually really like her. But for the purpose of this story she is going to be absolutely useless.
Disclaimer: Juvenile Orion belongs to Sakurako Gokurakuin. The tournament and how it works belongs to Clamp. I own nothing in this story expect the idea of Grafters and the OCs. Please do not sue.
Black King
Chapter 1
An air of anxiety filled the arena. Chairs hung suspended over the playing field, held aloft by chains reaching upwards into darkness. A slim figure sat serenely in one of the half-sphere chains, clothed nearly completely in black, head bowed and eyes closed. Short reddish-brown hair fell in front of his face, consuming it in shadows. Three people stood below the figure, calmly staring down their opponents, ignoring the chains wrapped around them, even as the other players shifted restlessly.
Farthest on the left, a young man stood. He held an ageless beauty; soft, flaxen hair fell around his face like a golden halo and cerulean blue eyes gleamed with mirth and shadows. A careless, almost mindless smile rested on his lips. He was dressed completely in black save for three white belts whose only purpose was to draw one's eyes to the flat, pale stomach his shirt revealed. A glaive was thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, his long, thin fingers holding it there loosely. He exhibited a careful mix of fatal carelessness and war-like sharpness.
On the opposite end another young man stood, just as ageless as the first but in total opposition appearance wise. Short hair hung in thick black spikes and stormy grey eyes stared stoically at his opponents from his tan, serious face. He too was dressed completely in black, expect he went without the white belts and his shirt reveal well-toned muscles instead of his stomach. A long sword was clenched tightly in his grip, hovering over the ground by his side. He was totally serious, almost glaring at the opposing team.
Between them, a much younger, teenage boy stood. His brown hair was cut practically and his brown eyes were steely, shining with determination. His face was still boyish but gave hints to the strong, handsome man he was becoming. His outfit was a strange mix of the blonde's elegance and the dark man's casualness, creating a dark, sophisticated look. Two longer-than-normal trench knives were held in his hands by his sides. He excluded calmness and determination.
Around each of their necks sat black collars, each linked to the chains holding them still.
"Ready!"
The black figure stirred as the voice called out, his sharp amber eyes sliding open. He raised his head, sweeping his eyes over the "pieces" only momentarily before locking his eyes on the figure in the chair opposite him, one dressed completely in white.
"Go!"
The chains snapped from the collars and disappeared as the two teams charged each other, weapons clashing together harshly, mercilessly, and with fatal intent. The black figure sat unmoving in the chair, not acknowledging the fight going on beneath him.
Not even when his team started to loose did he waver, staring calmly and relentlessly at the white leader, who threw a smug look towards him at the changing tides. He merely sat there, the message he didn't say but thought strongly clear in his steadfast gaze, the determined lines of his face, and his straight but relaxed posture. 'We will win.'
The course of the battle changed again as the black fighters drew strength from their master's will and fought even harder. The white master faltered, allowing the black team to cut down their opponents with ease.
"Black Side Wins!"
The black team relaxed, ignoring the white players crumbed and groaning at their feet. The chair containing their master lowered to the ground, allowing him to step off. He moved with a tired grace, wariness replacing the determination in his eyes.
"Are you okay, master?" the blonde asked in a smooth, cultured voice. He stepped forward and gently grabbed the boy under his arm to support him.
'Master' smiled warmly yet weakly. "I'm alright Lapuda. Just tired. Nothing a night's rest won't cure." He whispered softly.
Lapuda watched him for a moment before he nodded, a mindless smile gifting his lips again. "That's good." He said. "Shall we go home?"
The boy nodded. The group moved to step off the arena when three more people appeared. The players shifted, moving to surround their master protectively. The man in the front held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Now, now. No need to get defensive. I'm a reprehensive for the committee running this tournament. We wanted to congratulate you on your impressive winning streak."
'Master' stepped forward, Lapuda shifting his grip to better support him. "If that's true, "He said. "Then, we are both grateful and humbled by your presence. What may we do for you?"
The representative nodded, smiling at the black master's politeness. "We are here to personally invite you and your team to the semi-finals of the tournament. All previous restrictions will be removed from now on. The semi-finals will begin in three weeks. We wish we the best of luck."
The entire team nodded and 'Master' bowed respectively. Just as they were about to leave again, the man called out. "Your names, if I may?"
The players gazed at their master, waiting for his order. 'Master' stared hard at the representative, weighing his options, before nodding. Lapuda immediately spoke up. "Lapuda. I'm a Grafter."
The representative arched an eyebrow. "One of the mysterious alchemists? Impressive. Your people are still fairly young, aren't they?"
Lapuda nodded, "We haven't even joined the war yet." He informed with a grin.
Lapuda's opposite interrupted to introduce himself. "I'm Howl, a darklore." He said stoically. Beside him the last, younger fighter bowed in greeting. "I am Li, an Arayashiki." His tone was coldly polite.
The representative nodded in acknowledgement and looked at the master. "And you, Black King?"
The young boy smiled mysteriously and turned away slightly, causing shadows to drift around him. His amber eyes glinted. "Mind-breaker." He informed as he and his team walked away.
"Itsuki, Naoya."