Another KaiSal oneshot! Yay! This is for Lamanth, because she has a dance exam tomorrow, and somehow thinks that she won't do amazingly. Which she will. GO STORMCLOUD! (waves banner with a big cloud on it)
This is veeeeeeeery long and I might repost it later, as I've written most of it in half-hour slots over the past three days in a huge rush. Working to a deadline is not my thing. It still needs work, but it'll do. Hope you like!
Salima settled herself comfortably on the tiny, squashy navy sofa, her legs taking up the space that her torso wasn't. She seemed to have been waiting for this match forever. It was with a sigh of relief that she saw the black of the television screen turn to grey, then fizz slowly into life.
The stadium that the camera was currently panning around was open-air, huge, and themed in a way that left the watcher in no doubt as to the country hosting the semi-finals of this year's World Championships: Nairobi, capital of Kenya. As Brad and AJ Topper began their usual long-winded spiel, Salima let her eyes slip out of focus and her gaze rest distractedly on the now fuzzy screen as she dwelt on the reason she was here.
Salima made no effort to hide her reaction as Kai came into the stadium and sat down without looking at anyone, eyes shut, arms folded. Her face felt hot and her skin prickled.
Her eyes wandered over to the opposing team by way of a distraction, and she smiled at the sight of Max, his usually friendly eyes serious and hard with determination, and fixed on Kai. The PPB Allstars were by far the largest team and they were all standing behind their youngest member, the youngest team captain in the competition to date, confident, their larger-then-life Americanism making that confidence into something a little closer to arrogance. Salima's smile grew; talking of arrogance, she would love to see a "trash-talk" between Kai and Rick.
Apart from anything else, it would finally give her something to gloat over when she next met Mariah. Sorry, did I say gloat? I meant discuss, Salima thought wickedly, her grin widening further still. The camera panned to the heaving crowds and she scanned the happy multitude. Yes, Mariah was there, chatting to Rick and being watched closely through narrowed eyes by Lee and Kevin and, less obviously, by Ray. Next to Ray were BBA Revolution, bickering and teasing both playfully and not so playfully. Slowly, the camera moved around, focusing on each of the previous year's World Championship teams in succession before zooming back to the large beydish, which, Brad informed them, was a highly-polished "basic" dish to give the crowd a truly authentic battle, where Jazzman was waiting patiently. Apparently receiving a nod from somewhere beyond the camera scope, he suddenly jumped into action.
"Ok, folks! You heard those guys," meaning Brad and AJ, "this is the Semi-Finals of the World Championships and everything is riding on the matches you are about to witness! The winners will go to the Finals in Birmingham, England, to face BBA Revolution and try and knock Tyson off the pedestal that he just seems to be glued to these days!" A huge roar swelled and held until Tala calmly aimed his beyblade at the crowd and mouthed, shut up! "Initially, there will only be two matches. If it comes to a win and a loss each, then the teams will pick any blader they want to compete in the tie-breaker. You know the drill, guys, up you come!" A solid wall of cheering and screaming rose from the stands and this time it only quietened when Jazzman had shouted out a few more, inaudible, things and Tala and Rick were facing each other belligerently, launchers raised and ready. Tala whispered the familiar countdown, Rick bellowed it, and the crowd stood on their feet as one and yelled it.
"And three! Two! One! Let it rip!" Muscles bunched and relaxed in fluid, powerful movements and suddenly the two beyblades were in the dish and whirring like overworked machines. The camera man must have found a position virtually on the bey platform, because the detail of the footage that they were receiving was astounding, Salima thought, a little in awe, as always, of the sheer power of Championship-level beybladers. It was something that she would never be able to match. Especially one particular blader, who her eyes were drawn to irresistibly as the camera did the obligatory scan of the waiting teams.
Yes, it was Kai, of course it was Kai, and she was filled with a strange mixture of happiness and melancholy as she stared at him. God, she missed the bastard!
Ten, tense minutes later, and a frustrated jeer from Rick brought a reaction from Tala that ended the match.
"Attack you?" Tala's eyes opened and he looked up briefly, eyes unnaturally bright, and a nerve in Salima's leg twitched - unfortunately, she did find Tala decidedly attractive even though he was gay - in the anticipation of the strength that she could see coiled in that intense little glare. "Now, why would I do that?"
"Rick!" Max's warning shout came too late; flammable temper well and truly on fire, Rick threw back his head and raised his arms.
"Rock Bison! Rock Drop!" Rock Bison was transformed into a whirling sphere of rock, hurtling towards the apparently defenceless Wolborg at eye-blurring speed.
"Oh no you don't!" All nonchalance fell from Tala in an eager, almost malicious snarl of desire and he too spread his arms and screamed at the waiting spirit in his blade,
"Wolborg! Novae Roe!" The temperature in the stadium dropped like a stone, and ice gathered on the edges of the rock sphere. Both bladers were wide-eyed and shuddering with the effort. It paid off for Tala as with a roar, Rock Bison froze over to become easy bait for Wolborg as it sprang, jaws wide, eyes hungry.
Rick's blade clattered to a halt by his feet.
"And first round goes to ... Tala!" Tala shut his eyes and smirked, muttering something to Rick that the camera couldn't pick up. Due more to getting to know Tala over the past few months than to any particular skill at lip-reading, Salima deduced that he was simply congratulating Rick for a good match. Rick snorted in derisive reply, and the two of them turned and walked back to their teams.
Time for a break. Salima stood up and stretched so hard that her shoulders cracked, and wandered into the kitchen for a drink while the commentators babbled on and the teams huddled for tactics-discussion. Not, she thought wryly, that much discussion was necessary; every person in that stadium, and more besides, could predict the line-up for the second match.
"Kai vs. Max!" flashed in neon letters across the television screen as she returned with a glass of orange squash. Yup, no last-minute surprises there, then. She sat back down, cross-legged, and hugged a pillow to her, gulping the drink down in three, four, five swallows as Kai stood up and walked up to the dish. Max, already up there and cheerfully shouting replies to the cries from his fans in the crowd, grinned and waved at his new opponent and old friend.
Be nice, Kai. You two are friends, she scolded the pixelated version of him mentally, remember it for once! As if he had heard, he suddenly looked up and gave a Max a thin smile and an ironic salute with a flick of his hand. Max's grin widened and he threw an exaggerated salute back with words that were picked up eagerly by every camera and microphone in the vicinity,
"Aye aye, Captain Kai!" The camera spun and caught Tyson looking half-proud and half-exasperated and nudging Hilary and Kenny to whisper loudly that Max had stolen his line. Daichi whacked him over the head with a sandwich bag and retreated behind Hilary to watch tall, elegant Tala lean back on the bench and pretend that his match hadn't taken the energy right out of him. Salima let out a short breath of laughter and grabbed another cushion. Typical boys.
No matter how much any of them tried to deny it, the former Bladebreakers definitely missed each other's company, and nowhere did it show more than in the beystadium! Every time they faced each other, Salima could practically taste the nostalgia in the air, and she knew that just because Kai wouldn't admit it didn't mean that he wasn't just as bad as, say, Tyson who made a point of lamenting the loss of the Bladebreakers at any available opportunity.
Silly, typical boys.
"And three! Two! One! Let it rip!" Screams of delight and encouragement deafened Salima and she hurriedly turned down the volume from a setting that she wasn't aware she had put it to.
As Draciel - easily the most recognisable beyblade in any competition - sought the middle of the dish and spun there comfortably while Dranzer circled it predatorily, Salima had the strangest sensation of divided loyalties. Of course she wanted Kai to win, of course she did! She knew how much he wanted yet another chance to face Tyson and try to, as Jazzman had put it, "knock Tyson off the pedestal". She knew no one more driven than him, no one as determined to be the best at the cost of anything it required. If he lost to Max, here, in the Semi-Finals, lost out on his chance to try yet again at that ever-elusive title, his pride would be delivered an incredible blow, and she shivered at the mere thought of the impact.
On the other hand, she knew how much Max wanted to prove to himself and to his team-mates, both ex and current, that he had the same ability as the other Championship bladers. She knew how he felt that he was brushed over in favour of those older, more handsome, flashier bladers and their crowd-pleasing vicious attacking styles, so much that last year he had changed his entire strategy to that of a more attacking nature. Even that hadn't helped; everyone had seen the look of faint surprise on Tyson's face as he had stood on one side of the dish, red-faced in the hot Australian sun last year, the expression that said more clearly than any words, "I never expected to need to go through Max to get to the Finals!"
Dranzer danced in and struck Draciel a glancing blow before retreating, a blue blur, moving too fast for the ponderous green blade to have a chance of a counter-attack. Max's face, determined and pale with the nerves that he was badly afflicted with split into a sly grin.
"That all you got, Kai?"
"You wish." A shiver ran down Salima's spine at Kai's voice. I've got it bad, she thought, slightly annoyed. She didn't usually miss him this much, she berated herself, blaming her unusual melancholia of the previous few days.
The two blades carried on in the same vein for a few minutes, each attack from Dranzer bouncing off Draciel with no effect whatsoever. Their owners stood silently, eyes locked, a wide smile on Max's face, a small smirk on Kai's. As the crowd started muttering mutinously, Salima saw the same smile creeping across the faces of BBA Revolution as the one that was making her cheeks hurt - the smile of knowledge.
The two beybladers, her best friend and her boyfriend, were two of the most technically able people in any competition, with endurance to match, for as long as beyblading went back. On top of that, they had an inbred sense of dramatic timing and Max especially had showmanship flair worthy of Julia and Raul. They weren't battling; they were toying with each other, waiting for the right moment to push every barrier away and give the restless crowd the battle of the tournament.
For all Max's doubts about the visual appeal of his defensive water and gravity elements, personally, Salima loved seeing the slow, deliberate, inescapable swirl of the whirlpool around Draciel's huge feet and the bright spark of love and excitement in Max's eyes as he commanded that power. That was one of the things that she liked about Max, the way that he never took his bit-beast for granted, ever. Even Kai could sometimes slip into a state where he only saw Dranzer as a means of winning, something to wring more and more power out of.
Kai shifted, and with the minute change in position the intensity of the match shot up several notches and lodged on one that made Salima shiver. The camera zoomed in. His eyes were dark and watchful, predatory-looking, with tiny pin-points of light burning in them that gave him a slightly deranged appearance. In a quick change of camera angle, Salima saw the dusky flames shimmer into life around Dranzer, and - she narrowed her eyes, every sense straining - the bit-chip was glowing!
"Max, get ready!" she whispered fearfully. Max was standing perfectly still, a slight smile still on his face, arms held loosely at his sides, the picture of vulnerability against the raw power swirling around him.
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"Go, Dranzer!" An unearthly shriek filled the stadium as the legendary phoenix rose gracefully from the bit-chip and stared down at Max with merciless eyes.
Salima caught her breath and let it out again in a soundless moan.
Kai's eyes were glowing with an inner light that illuminated a number of small, silvery scars around his eyes along with shadows that indicated his training regime had got out of control again. It matched the undulating light surrounding Dranzer, flashing red and blue and white in rapid succession. The entire stadium was deathly silent, and momentarily the camera panned to the main entrance and caught an unforgettable image of paramedics watching the two figures silhouetted against the supernatural light show warily.
Salima felt a sharp jab of pain and unclenched her fists with difficulty, rubbing absentmindedly at the red imprint of her nail in her palm. Without warning, she heard something that Kai had said to her before he left as clearly as if he had repeated it in the room with her.
"I'm facing Tyson again. No matter what."
Her fists clenched again, white-knuckled with sudden fear. Max still wasn't doing anything! Was he mad? Couldn't he see, couldn't he feel the power building up? A thought struck her and she almost laughed, whispering aloud,
"This is no time for theatrics!" As if he had heard her, Max's head snapped up and he yelled out for Draciel, his eyes dancing with a strange, edgy kind of excitement. The massive tortoise reared up and bellowed before settling heavily onto its back legs and exchanging malevolent glares with Dranzer.
"Enough fucking around." Kai rasped. With a harsh shriek, Dranzer swooped in, talons outstretched. Calmly, Draciel closed its eyes and let the razor-like points scrape its shell and tough skin without budging. Kai's eyes widened - he seemed not to notice the wounds that had suddenly opened in Max's arms and face, only the failure of his attack.
All he cares about is winning this match, Salima thought with horror, finally putting into words her dread of the past few minutes. That's it. He doesn't give a damn about what happens to anyone in the process. And yet ... I don't think Max does, either. She watched as the camera panned over Max; he was still grinning! He's bleeding and facing someone who has only been beaten by a handful of people in his entire beyblading career, and he's still grinning like he hasn't a care in the world! She shook her head in disbelief.
"Dranzer!" More attacks were tried. Each time, Draciel took the damage placidly and Max didn't flinch as blood began to trickle faster into his clothes. Kai's frustration was obvious and mounting, and after one particularly unsuccessful blow he actually stepped back and shut his eyes in a clear attempt to calm himself. At this, Max's grin faded and he called across the dish in a pitying voice,
"Had enough?" Pure fury blazed black and red in Kai's eyes and Dranzer answered with a scream that deafened Salima and made everyone who could be seen on camera wince and cover their ears. He's goading him, Salima realised. Provoking him into an attack! Why?
"You can't stop me, Max!" Kai yelled.
"I've not been doing too bad a job of it so far, have I?"
"Bastard! Tyson is mine!" Max let out a laugh of pure amusement.
"I didn't know you swung that way, Kai!" Something closed in Kai's face and Salima fought the urge to hide behind the sofa.
"Dranzer! Solar Flare!" The phoenix soared up and up, into the open sky. As if to add his own strength to the fight, Kai leapt in the air, higher than anyone bar the neko-jins had seen before. Silhouetted against the blazing sun, Dranzer let out a cry. It had nearly doubled in size, burning red, white, and blue, flames falling as feathers and melting whatever they touched. The huge, molten bird dived out of the sky as Kai too began to fall, golden eyes fixed on the dark tortoise that still sat there stoically but showed enough doubt to look briefly at Max with trusting round eyes. As Max nodded, all playfulness was stripped away to reveal a desperate hunger equal to Kai's and a shout of,
"Draciel! Tsunami Palisade!" that echoed around the stadium. Instantly, water surged up in a roaring rush to cover Draciel and Max from five different angles and an odd bowl shape in each side of the icy water showed that the Earth's gravity had gone from 10 Newtons to something closer to 20. Dranzer let out a shriek as it plummeted into the barrier that was the nemesis of its very being.
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Despite the elemental struggle being played out with "spcial effects" to make every theatre jealous, everyone's eyes were fixed on Kai, who was sprawled on the floor, the safe landing from his superhuman leap destroyed by the jolt of Dranzer hitting Draciel, clutching his left arm that was bent hopelessly out of shape and shaking with the effort of not crying out in pain as his bit-beast had.
"Kai!" Max's eyes were clear and bright again, free of the darkness of battle-hunger that had clouded both bladers' thoughts, and filled with worry for his old friend. "Kai, are you ok?" Silence. Kai's eyes were fixed on a point in the dish that from his angle he could see and no-one else could. With a dizzying camera switch, Salima saw, and her eyes filled with tears.
The beautiful royal-blue beyblade was motionless on the bottom of the dish, smoking slightly. In one swift move, Max recalled Draciel to its beyblade and then the beyblade to his hand, ignoring the speed at which it hit his palm and the blood that was still pouring freely down both arms and one cheek. He ran over to Kai and crouched down. "Kai?" he asked uncertainly and shot a venom-filled glare at the watching cameras.
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As if in respect, but more likely for the drama of it all, the cameras zoomed out and the last Salima saw before the viewpoint switched altogether was Kai shove Max away viciously and prepare to fight the paramedics with a wild, haunted look in his eyes.
An hour later, she was still sat in front of the TV, shaking like a leaf and colder than she could have imagined, watching for any news bulletins on Kai, thoughts that she didn't want examined too closely flying around the edges of her mind. Finally,
"And at three o'clock this afternoon, Kai Hiwatari of the Blitzkrieg Boys announced after his defeat that he would be retiring from beyblading for the forseeable future. He is said to be extremely distraught over his loss, where he suffered a badly broken arm, to a point, where a number of people close to him are quite seriously concerned." A shot flashed up on screen. It was Kai's dressing room door, and written on a scrap of paper pinned to it in Kai's untidy scrawl was,
The person you are looking for is no longer here. So stop fucking looking, ok?
Salima's mind flew to the worst possible scenario in an instant, and something tugged painfully inside her chest.
She scrambled to her feet, thrown into a formless, reasonless world of blind terror where her only thought was a desperate plea; she couldn't lose Kai. Not like this. Not without saying goodbye. Her breathing came in quick, tear-fighting gasps, and her chest ached with every heartbeat as she rummaged with hands with were beyond shaking and into juddering almost comically. Finally, she found what she was looking for - the telephone - and dialled Kai's mobile phone number. She knew it would be off, with him like this, but she didn't care. She didn't know what she wanted to say either, well, had that ever stopped her before?
Afterwards, she would look back on her split-second, gut reaction and analyse it, apply logical reasons and thought processes where there had been none for the sake of dignity and sanity, but right then, there was only a bottomless pit that she was hovering over with faulty wings.
"Hello, this is Gadet answerphone service. The person you are calling is not available right now, please leave a message after the tone."
Beep ...
"Hey, Kai ... knew it wouldn't be on ... listen, ok? If you're there, just send me a message ok? It can be really small, one word, I don't care, just let me know that you're here and you haven't ... you know. I'm so sc-cared. Don't leave me, please ... ok. Love you. Bye-bye And, sorry if this w-worries you or anything. It's not supposed to. I l-love you, ok? Bye-bye." She ended the call with a hand that had had great difficulties in holding the phone steady enough for speech, fully aware that she had sounded like a terrified, sobbing five year-old throughout that call. She didn't care. She was terrified and sobbing. Or, trying not to sob.
She had to ... fuck, she had an entire day surrounded by people to try and pretend that she was normal in, that she wasn't nearly mad with terror and pain from the ache in her ribs, as though someone was trying to pry them out of her skin, because she thought that she had lost the best person in her life forever.
She had no-one to tell. The thought hit her like a ton of bricks. If Kai truly had ... gone, then she had no one in her day-to-day life who would understand.
No one at all.
Nine sickening hours later, her mobile phone made a noise. She blinked, not immediately recognising it as her message alert - it was so rare that anyone ever texted or rang her on anything bar her landline. Scrolling into the new text, she read,
I'm ok. Don't worry. Just taking a break from everything. Talk whenever.
And just like that, the terror went. She could breathe again without wincing in pain and shuddering with held-back tears. She thanked Kai mentally for the message. It meant more than he would ever know. He was there. Alive. He hadn't left her. And, well, ok, he was clearly in a hell of a state,but there wasn't much she could do about that. All that mattered right now was that he wasn't gone. There was a dull tight feeling in her chest that she recognised and almost welcomed - she missed him. Nothing more. She would wait until he contacted her, as she remembered him telling her once that he found it hard enough to deal with himself when he hit rock bottom, let alone other people.
Yes, she would wait. She reckoned he would be "Missing In Action" for at least two weeks, maybe as much as a month. If it was a month, then screw everything, she would ring.
But, for now, she would wait patiently.
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Three days later, she was furiously berating herself while staring at the Message sent icon flashing on her mobile phone. She wasn't expecting a reply, but she was expecting to expect a reply, if that made a shred of sense. Which it didn't.
I'm such an idiot, why on earth did I do that? That's just gone and made it worse! She sucked in a deep, calming breath.
"This is not fair, it's like coming off a drug all in one go or something!" she complained softly. She wanted her Kai. Now.
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One after the other after the other, a barrage of people who were down and too many emotions tied up with each of them. Kai, Ray, Ming-Ming.
Fuck them all.
She didn't even know why she worried, it wasn't like it was something she was thanked for or anything, it wasn't as if they knew that she was doing it unless she told them. It was just a habit that was slowly wrecking her sanity, cooked up by a brain that couldn't accept that she was far more needy than most people could handle and that the same neediness drove people to confide in someone else more important than her. This was so fucked, everyone that she cared about was lower than she even knew. She hated it, hated what it was doing to her. Was this her life from now on? Feeling like this every time someone around her felt low?
Fuck the lot of them. When they wanted her, they knew where to find her.
She threw a pillow at the wall, hating the soft, inoffensive, squashy thud but not brave enough to risk chucking something breakable, then sank her teeth deep into her tongue to fight back the ever-present threat of tears. Then the guilt squirmed up again, acid chewing away at her remaining self-control.
"Sorry. Don't know what that was. Sorry." she whispered to people who couldn't hear her. I know you can't help it, she thought miserably, I know that I can't help you. We can all live with it. She could live with it, she had proved that over the past few weeks, but only by deception - convincing herself that Kai was simply in an area where he couldn't get a signal. The disadvatage of that method was that when anything reminded her that Kai wasn't just away, he was away and hurting and she couldn't get to him because she was quite sure that he didn't want her prying, that was when the walls came down with a crash. Crashing, so far, involved one of three things, today's temper tantram, crying, and a terrifying state of half-consciousness where she could barely talk or breathe.
Her feeling of complete and utter isolation had only grown since its conception - all those reactions and no-one had seen. For heaven's sake, she had been on the phone to Ming-Ming while she was unable to talk! Not a comment! Not even an "Are you ok, Sal?", to which she no longer knew the truthful answer. It wasn't just Kai either, it was everything and everyone. Nursing exams and the intense studying required for that, and a domino effect as friend after friend had fallen into their own personal pit. Guilt at not being able to stop it. Guilt at not even trying very hard because the effort left her entire body tight with repressed sobs. Guilt because Max was depressed and almost as worried for Kai as she was, because Ming-Ming was in a rage at the world and anything that crossed her path, because Ray was, according to Mariah, cutting again, and she didn't have the energy to be her normal self and try to make them happy again.
Who was trying to make her happy again? Answer that!
Ok, so maybe those people experienced in feeling like shite would be able to tell her that this was nothing, that they put up with shit like this and worse and didn't crack, that she was over-reacting. She knew she was over-reacting, but this was her, not them. She wasn't as strong as them. She was lazy and selfish, and liked being happy. That was why she changed channels as soon as the sports news came on - she couldn't keep on finding out all the ways that her friends were hurting, she just ... couldn't.
She didn't know what to do anymore. Did she leave him be, let him sort himself out on his own, and risk him thinking that she was ignoring him? Or did she keep leaving messages here there and everywhere, on his phone, with Tala, with Max, with anyone who might have contact with him over there in Africa, letting him know that she was here and that he wasn't alone, and risk him thinking that she was an infuriating, persistent little bitch? She knew which one she'd rather do, but equally, she knew the one that she thought he wanted her to do. It went directly against every impulse in her body, but she was trying. She wasn't succeeding, but she was trying. That counted for something, didn't it? Didn't it?
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The pain of it all was fading as she prepared to attempt making a cake. It had taken her two long weeks, but she had somehow managed to banish the painful empty feeling inside her for hours at a time. There was just the familiar dull, miss-you ache in her chest, and even that came and went. Now, waiting was all she had to worry about.
Just as she was about to plunge her hands into the flour, the doorbell rang.
"I'm coming!" she yelled back, cursing the sudden cold swoop of hope in her chest that sprang up every time the doorbell went or the phone rang. Always, a part of her whispering, He's back! while another part snarled, He's never coming back! He's seen the light and ditched you while he could! Wondering briefly if she was going mad, she hurried towards the door, busily brushing her hands against her three-quarter length trousers to clean them and noticing with annoyamce that she had kept hold of the egg-whisk she had just finished using. The doorbell rang again. "I'm coming!" she repeated loudly, and opened the door.
The egg-whisk dropped to the floor and the world froze around her in one perfect, timless moment, where the floor dropped away and she was floating on thick, soft clouds, her eyes, huge with shock, staring dazedly at the person she had almost begun to fear really would never return.
"Kai?" she asked faintly. He looked at her with amusement, a poised, powerful figure with dark shadows under his eyes and a cast and a sling on his left arm.
He's back! I can't believe it! He's back! My Kai ...
"The one and only." Kai confirmed, giving her that same quick flick of a salute that he had given Max weeks earlier. Arrogant bastard! a hurt voice in her mind screamed. She silenced it and flung herself at him with a choked cry. "Hey," he murmured, good arm tight across her back, "Hey, what's all this, then?"
Something inside her exploded in a fit of hot rage that quickly morphed into something else.
You don't know you didn't think of me at all you fucking bastard I hate you hate you hate you hate you missed you so much hate you love you fucking want you -
"I just missed you." she said with a self-deprecating shrug and buried her face in his neck. Then, softly, oh-so-softly, "Thought you might not come back." She smiled against the hot skin of his neck and nipped it gently between her teeth. "Stupid, hey?"
"You are." he agreed shortly, stretching his neck up a giveaway fraction. She nuzzled the spot that she had just bitten and looked up at him innoccently.
"Well? Are we going to stand out here all day?" Her back hit the wall and she trembled deliciously at his proximity, his chest flush to hers. The air was thick with promise, with the only security that the two emotionally drained teenagers knew at that moment.
"I don't know." Kai raised his eyebrows challengingly, his lips millimetres from hers. "Are we?" They stared at each other, then Salima reached up and twirled a strand of his thick, dark hair around one finger, using it to pull his head down so that their mouths slammed together with bruising force. He pulled away for a second, hissing, "Bitch!" in an approving tone. She smiled demurely. It was rare that she was angry enough for lust to surface in this brutal, sadistic way, and her inability to produce on call one of the things that Kai liked the most reguarly took chunks out of her fragile self-esteem. Now, though, now, there was a diamond hard, white hot core of anger boiling inside her, an irrational fury against Kai for the hell of the past few weeks, and she felt more alive than she had for a long time.
"Nope. Too cold." she rationalised. They turned and made their way indoors, teasing each other with pinches and kisses, their desire rising with each passing second. Salima let out a gasp as Kai suddenly pinned her to the wall, his whole being radiating impatience, and found her lips with his. The core of heat inside Salima spread shivering tendrils throughout her body as she fumbled with his T-shirt and slid it up past her elbows, up to his prominent collar bone. Frustrated tugging showed that it would go no further, and she broke away from the kiss to hiss at him to move his arms. He tilted his head and caught her lips again, coaxing them open. The sensation made her knees go weak and she leant heavily against Kai, the plaster cast digging into her ribs, her mouth working hungrily against his, his T-shirt back in place and temporarily forgotten about.
She felt him put his good hand on her side, just above her right hip, and smiled inwardly. She knew that her skin would be hot, driven almost to the point of fever by the first, original heat of rage that now engulfed her entire body, and knew that he loved the burning sensation he received when their skin first made contact. She found his T-shirt again and yanked at it, pulling it up, pressing her torso flat to his and feeling the thrill of bodily contact rush through her like an intoxicating drug. He buried his right hand in her hair and moved her head to his will, finding the perfect angle and not particularly minding about the odd hair that came free as he did so. Irritation surged through Salima and she put one hand on each of Kai's shoulders, pulled away, looked into his very annoyed eyes - and pushed.
Down he went, and she couldn't help but laugh at his shocked expression and the four-letter word that got stuck in his throat as he went over backwards. With a thud of her own, she dropped to her knees beside him and grinned an impish grin at him. With a glare that cowed thousands around the world weekly, Kai grabbed her lightly round the waist and stared at her until she got the point and moved to straddle him. His lips curved up in a satisfied smirk and he slid a hand under her T-shirt and up. Obligingly, she slipped out of the top, silently wishing that she had worn a bra that wasn't three years old and faded in places. Seizing the initiative, she lay on top of him, slightly to the right to avoid the bulky cast, and, all in unison, bit down hard on his neck, pressed her groin against his and sank her nails into his side. He let out a strangled cry and pushed her off, slamming her against the floor. She laughed as she went, making no effort to stop the tumble.
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They were motionless, side by side, staring into each other's need-darkened eyes, but as the seconds started to stretch like elastic, Salima got a little bored, and decidedly angry. Remembered thoughts of "He only cares about himself!" reared up again in her mind. She drew her arm back, slowly, disguising it as a languid stretch that he followed with hungry eyes, and slapped him round the face as hard as she could. His cheek turned white and then red, his eyes turned from dark red to something close to black. All of a sudden, they were clinging together, kissing and biting and touching and scratching, struggling out of their clothes with no thought for rips or the hardness of the floor under their shoulderblades. Salima playfully nudged him with her hand and he glared at her and muttered something along the lines of, "Fucking tease." She climbed back astride him and pulled the hairband from her hair, letting the silky, waist-length scarlet curtain drape over them both.
This was what she wanted, and she could see from his face that he was of the same mind. All the tensions of the past month, all of the anger they had felt for each other, they were all coming out. Just having him there again, glaring and grinning at her at the same time, his smooth skin shining like sculpted marble in the dim twilight, was filling that cold, dark, empty space inside her to overflowing. He was here. He was gorgeous. He was hers. She bent down just as he raised his head, and their lips met in a kiss of the utmost tenderness, soft and searching, lips and tongues gently dancing.
"Mine." they whispered in possessive unison, and as Salima gave way to the hot, hard ache between her legs and guided herself clumsily onto him, the word seemed to light up and hang there in the air between them, a glowing red and purple testament to a need that had been building unstoppably, unknowingly, for two weeks. Salima gripped Kai's muscled upper arms tightly as a coil of emotion that had rolled itself up as tight as could be began to unroll and suddenly she was sobbing with a messy mixture of fear and anger, of joy and disbelief, of an emotion that there was no name for. She gripped his arms tighter, forced herself down as far as she could go. The un-nameable emotion filled her to the brim and overspilt in a golden rush in her head that turned the world into a white and gold kaleidoscope, spinning and spinning until all she could do was cry out in exhilaration and rapture. Dimly, somewhere, she was aware of being flat on the floor, of Kai's own cries as he too reached a stage of floating, bursting ecstasy, but then that too faded and there was only their bodies as they clung to each other on the hard linoleum floor, mingled to the extent that Salima was no longer sure where her legs began and Kai's ended. She fell into the warm darkness of sleep reluctantly, scared even to loosen her grip on he who had so nearly escaped her and now held her so tightly.
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Propped up on one elbow, blinking herself awake, she smiled as she saw Kai's long eyelashes flutter and his lips move in grumpy curses against the evil sunlight, then smiled even more as he adjusted his grip around her waist and sank back into sleep. This was the best time. After-time; slow, silver, happy time, where she could linger over every aspect of the male body that millions of girls drooled over every day and that was undeniably hers. She ran her fingers lightly over his shoulders and down the muscles of his back, stopping and poking a dark mole in the small of his back curiously for a few seconds. Picking up his un-plastered, unresisting arm, she ran her hand up it backwards, loving the feel of the tiny, fine hairs against her fingers. Her fingers spread in a fan which she brushed lightly over his face, touching his scars, tracing the line of soft, invisible down that outlined his cheekbones, rubbing at the dark smears of tiredness under each eye as if that would make them go away.
Kai was here. No matter what happened when they had to talk, Kai was here and that was all that mattered.
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The sky was perfect, she thought dreamily, lying back on the grass verge down by the river that was Tyson's, and by default, Max's, Ray's, and Kai's favourite place to train. Oh, and apparently Tala and Daichi liked it too. Tagalongs, Salima mocked silently. The sky was a deep, endless blue, deep not in the colour, but in the distance, it was the very opposite of the day before when oppressive black clouds had lowered the skyline to what felt like a few inches above her head and stifled the air. She closed her eyes and relaxed in the warmth of the sun.
"Hey, Sal." She scrolled through the list of people who both referred to her as Sal - Kai, Ray, Max, Ming-Ming, Kane - and started conversations with "Hey" - Max, Ray, Tyson, Mariah, Julia - and matched the voice to the faces until she decided,
"Hi Max." She opened her eyes and turned her head, smiling at Max who grinned down at her.
"You ok?" he asked. She blinked, and felt a sudden urge to cry again. A month of hurting and silence, and now, when it was over, that was when the concern came. She shrugged.
"Yeah. Hard month, that's all." Max nodded, his grin fading.
"Yeah, it has been." Reaching out, Salima ran her fingers lightly over the scabbed wounds on Max's arms from Kai's vicious attacks, and slapped him lightly as she saw guilt creep over his face
"Don't be guilty with me, you twit. It was hardly your fault that Kai doesn't know when to stop! As long as you're ok now." She said the latter sentence with absolute confidence, and hoped that Max couldn't see the doubt in her mind.
"You really are something, Sal." he said affectionately, cuffing her arm. She grinned and looked around. Seeing Kai standing under the bridge looking morose and sour as he watched Tyson and Tala battle, she scrambled to her feet, blew Max a kiss that he cheerfully blew back, and hurried over to him.
Halfway to him, she was swung ungracefully around as Tala caught her round the waist.
"You two fucked last night, didn't you?" he demanded, his mouth inches from her ear. She stared at him with an innocent look that she had copied from Ming-Ming and said nothing.
"Tala, it's not like you to be that close to a girl by choice, is it?" Ray smirked at Tala's icy glare. "What he's trying to say, I think, is that whatever you two said or did yesterday, it's helped him more than any of us could."
"Yeah, yeah." Tala scowled and folded his arms. Salima, abruptly released, wobbled violently as Daichi barrelled past her and glared up at Ray.
"You bothering Tala, huh? I'll stop you! Put 'em up!" To Tyson and Salima's great amusement, Daichi started attempting to punch Ray, who yawned and held him off with one hand.
"Hey, leave the kid alone." Ray and Salima, the only ones in earshot, stared at Tala in disbelief, then a very catty smile began to spread over Ray's face.
"Very protective of you, Tal …" he purred, watching Tala squirm. "You know, Sal, I think that Daichi here isn't the only one with an irrational crush, am I right?"
"No." Tala's eyes were cold.
"Oh? Just big-brotherly?"
"Bonding of the redheads?" Kai suggested, making Salima jump as he came up behind her and slid an arm around her waist.
"I dare you to kiss him! That'll prove it." Trust Tyson to say what they all wanted to! Salima gave Tyson a tiny thumbs-up. "Yeah, go ahead. Prove to us that you don't like the little orang-utan." Tyson continued, buoyed up by Salima's vote of confidence. Tala stared at them all, one by one, his eyes sending a chill down Salima's spine. Then,
"Fine." With a look of distaste on his haughty face, he bent down and touched his lips briefly to Daichi's. He pulled away almost instantly, only for Daichi to grab his hair, pull him back, and repeat the quick lip-brush, his small brown face beet-red and shy. With a strange "mmht?" noise, Daichi turned and fled with Tyson's laughter following him all the way.
"Idiot." Kai whispered in Salima's ear. She nodded in agreement and tilted her head back, but she couldn't help but see, as their lips touched for a kiss far more lasting than Tala and Daichi's, the way that Tala's eyes were following Daichi as the young boy ran.
Yes, it's a lemon and a TalaDaichi. Yes, I am completely mad.
Hope you like it, LambCloud!! Love you, and you'll do great, I know you will!!
Review please! (Tala/Daichi was a request (points at Lamb)) so no flaming me for that!)