Tauria: Hi! Well, here is the next chapter to Backwards! Thanks for all of the reviews! :DD
Chiro: When do I get to come to this part of the story, by the way?
Tauria: I don't know. It might be Chapter Three, and it might be Chapter Four.
Chiro: -nods- Well, Tauria doesn't own SRMT, so no body sue her.
Chapter Two
The others all stared at Antauri in shock. But whether at seeing him in this body or at the news he had just given them, he didn't know. He had never felt uncomfortable in his silver body, but going back to his black body, he realized how much had changed. No matter. Right now, all that mattered was finding Chiro. He waited for them to say something, to say anything. To do something . . . anything . . . besides stand there. They needed to not only get back to their own time, but to make sure nothing was going to happen to him in this time.
"How far back in the past were we sent, Antauri?" Gibson finally asked.
"I do not know," Antauri said. "I know that it was before Chiro's Power Primate was awakened, but after we were put into stasis."
"Well, obviously it was after we were put into stasis! We never let it get this dusty and cobwebbed up in here when we lived here!" Sprx frowned at Antauri.
"I think what Antauri is trying to say is that it wasn't so far back that it was before we were created," Gibson rolled his eyes.
Sprx nodded.
Antauri gave them all a small smile. "So . . . we have a fifty year time radius it could be . . . we should probably get the Robot running so we can look at the date. It may help us decide on a course of action . . . We also need to figure out what brought us back here, and how we can get back."
The monkeys nodded.
"Oh, and for now, leave off any loud alarms, and make sure no lights shine outside until we find out what year we're in. If the boy comes exploring we don't want him getting scared away by those," Antauri added as an after thought.
They nodded again and each set to work, trying to bring the Robot back to life.
Kick. Swerve. Block. Thrust. Duck! Dodge the feint! Parry. Punch. Take his weapon! Knock him to the ground! Now, try out that new move!
The boy thought in quick bursts, not bothering to spend time trying to plan an attack. He had never lost to this person before, but he knew there was first for everything. He never had time to plan a well-thought-out strategy, which were his specialty, because the other boy's specialty was quick attacks. He tried to at least keep his head, so he wouldn't falter during the fight. He was breathing heavy, and sweat poured down his muscled little body. Damp strands of hair obscured his eyes, and no matter what he did to try and move them from his face, they always fell back in front of his eyes. Girls liked to gush that it made him 'cute'. But right now, he didn't feel cute. He felt dangerous. He felt lethal. He would never intentionally hurt someone of course, this was just a sparring session to practice new moves they could teach their students, at their homemade dojo. When he finally knocked the older boy off his feet, they called it quits.
"Nice job," he smiled, knowing that because he had asked to train to test out a new move, that he was going to win. See, they couldn't lose to one another, so they instead would let whoever asked to test out a new move win, if the move were effective enough.
"Thank you. The new move was excellent. Name it, so we can start teaching it," the older boy grinned.
He nodded, and as he thought of names for his new move, he grabbed an ice cold water bottle and threw back his head. As the cold water poured down the back of his throat, he shivered. His throat hurt slightly because they had been fighting for so long and had not stopped for drinks. Once he had finished the bottle, he tossed it in a recycling bin and went over to where his older brother was planning out that weeks schedule. This even included what they would eat.
"So, how many new students this week?" He asked.
"Not much. Kids aren't as interested in it as they used to be. Street kids are starting to go back to the old street fighting ways, because they say we're asking for too much from them."
The two boys had also been street kids until they had found a house and fixed it up. Now they trained people in the styles of a special way of fighting. One they had come up with themselves. Street kids had come from all over to learn it because it had been much more effective then your average street fight. There weren't as many deaths this way either. They asked for money from those that could pay money, and food from people that couldn't. They thought it was pretty fair.
"Well . . . maybe if we change our prices . . ." the younger suggested.
The elder frowned. "No. Our prices are what they are for a reason."
The younger nodded. "If only the dojo had more rooms. We could offer them a place."
"True. None of them would stay long either . . . well, what if we fixed up some of the rooms. I mean, the ones we added the dojo onto. Not the ones we built."
"That seems reasonable."
As they were in the middle of their conversation, a girl stepped in. She smiled at them. She had maroon colored hair and light gray eyes. She wore ripped jeans and a red shirt. "Hello," her voice was crisp and clear. "Do you know where Chiro Neale is?"
Running.
That seemed to be all he did lately. Was he too weak to handle himself in a fight? That was what people thought when he was running. Some people thought he was late for stuff. But the truth was, he liked to run. Running was how he dealt with things. His legs were muscled because he ran so much. He had discovered his love for running when he had entered a race for money. He had been banned from races now, because he had gotten so good. He liked to think he was the best at it. His sneakers were worn down because he ran so much. But it wasn't his legs burned as the muscles strained to let him continue. He wasn't surprised. He had been running for a few days now. He had lost track of what part of the city he was in . . .
He gradually slowed down to a walk, and then stopped at a store, stealing a bottle of water quite easily. He drank it a few blocks down from the store, and then went to go find a place to sleep that night. He was a nomad, and he intended to keep it that way. Someone put their hand on his shoulder.
He turned to see a boy with a red shirt and ripped jeans. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were dark gray. "Have you seen Chiro Neale?"
Tauria: Well . . . that was interesting. I wonder why those people are looking for Chiro.
Chiro: Are you saying you don't know?
Tauria: That is for me to know, and for you to wonder about.
Chiro: -_- Oh you you so know.
Tauria: ^v^
Chiro: Please leave a review, so she will get to the next chapter faster and we can all find out what happens next!
