The band was taking a trip. Not like their Europe tour, but to a pool. A public pool. Where fans would be attacking them and launching themselves for autographs. Koda knew it was a bad idea, but no one would listen. And swimming would also reveal a scar on his stomach that he'd prefer to hide.
"Really guys, it's a bad idea. Think of what kind of attention we'd be drawing," Koda pointed out.
"So?" Spike challenged, a slight glint in his eye.
"He's just scared," Mika put out.
"Scared of what?" Romi asked.
"Yes, Mika, what am I scared of?" Mocked Koda.
"Showing that scar of yours so people'll ask about it," she smirked. Koda blushed and looked away.
"What scar?" Ringo curiously asked.
"Thanks, Mika. Now I have to explain," Koda groaned. "Well, it all happened when I was about 8 and Mika was about 4."
"I had been in the kitchen. My mother was still at work and I was left alone with Mika. Now, I wasn't the brightest little 8 year old in the world. I had made drums out of pots and pans. I lined up the 8-9 or so pots on the floor. I was too short to reach the wooden spoons for drumsticks though," Koda began his tale with.
"What did you use then?" Romi questioned.
"I was getting to that. I used the only things I could reach: knives. Yes, yes, I know, dumbest thing ever. But as I said before, I was young and stupid. Anyway, I must have caught Mika's attention with my drumming, because she came downstairs wanting to play, too. When I told her no, she became very upset. She grabbed the handle of the knife and tried to take it. I held onto the handle, also, blade towards myself. I yanked it away from her, not thinking of the consequences of the action. The blade sunk into my belly, just missing my stomach or any other organs. Luckily, my mom came home a few moments later and rushed me to the hospital. I got 9 stitches and am now left with a large scar," Koda finished, lifting his shirt and showing his inch and a half long scar.
"Wow, you really were a dumb kid," Spike said, laughing.