Disclaimer: This is a complete work of FANfiction in no way affiliated with Air Gear.

Chapter 4

This is harder than I thought it would be. It's not just the humidity and the terrain, but Agito's been pretty much silent the whole time. Two days and two awkward nights in twin motel rooms, all filled with the most meagre of vocal additions from him all shrugs of his thin shoulders, shakes of his head, nods, gestures. It's not like he hasn't spoken with people, discreetly asking for directions, ordering food... it's just me he doesn't want to talk to. I want to grab him by the shoulders and ask him why, but I'm too scared of the answer he'll give me. I pause a moment to wipe away the sweat beading on my forehead, taking a sip from the canteen at my hip, glad of even this tepid water to cleanse the dryness of my mouth. There's so much green here, the forest thick and abundant as birds call and animals rustle through the undergrowth, a safe distance away from us two intruders. It's so different to the city where I grew up, and the highly populated places I've frequented since. I'm used to concrete, asphalt, chiselled stone, all of it dark and bland. The beauty of this place, so alive, it really is enough to take your breath away.

I want to ask him what he thinks of it. But I've stopped trying to make conversation with him now, each rejection forcing me further into myself, another dent to my wilting confidence. I'd been so sure that this would work when I stepped out of that room, ready to face anything; but the reality of it had set in again after I'd gone back to that bare room of his, seen him take our AT's and regalia's out of their hiding place. He'd stood there and looked at them, unaware of my gaze and then... then he sighed. I look sideways at him now as I take another gulp of water. That melancholy feeling is still with him now; in the way he moves, fluid but solemn. What had that sigh meant?

Still, for all of my worry over his internal reflections there is nothing wrong with his body. He doesn't even seem out of breath, nimble and light on his feet; perfect balance where I'm tripping over every branch obscured in the foliage. It's second nature to him, that balance and skill, but it didn't come without a price. None of it did; those years he was caged by Kaito, the jacket which bound his arms. I know it's a bitter sweet thought to him, something I don't think he'll ever be able to fully come to terms with. Those nights when we lay together, his slim body so warm and fragile in my arms, he told me of his past, things he would never tell the others. He admitted the depths to which Akira's betrayal had hurt him. He told me of the hatred he held for Kaito, for everything he did to Akito, the continued torture of their body. I had held him as hot tears had slipped from his eyes, whole body trembling as I laid sweet kisses to his hair as he sobbed out that he wished he'd never been created; if Akito had been happy then there'd have been no need for him in the first place. It had cut all the more to then find out that that man was his father not his brother. My eyes fix on Agito in front of me, face half shielded by his hair which looks simply black in the leaf filtered light. It's still there, that hurt I hold in my chest for him, my share of his burden, although I doubt it lessens his any.

I hate that he's this quiet with me now, after everything we've gone through, all the secrets we shared. It reminds me of before we forged a relationship, when he merely existed alongside us. This has to be because of something I've done, or not done. I think of the last words he really spoke to me: 'Don't fuck me about Kazu... please.' I can't blame him for not trusting me, I've done nothing to show that I'm going to keep my word. It's not like I have the best track record. More than that, I wouldn't blame him if he's more bitter about my desertion than he let on. Sure he said that it's all in the past and to forget about it, but those are just words, the same as mine, and as we've learned all to harshly: words lie.

He drops easily from a rocky ledge to land lightly on his feet, moving down to a stream where he fills the bottle of water he has emptied on the climb so far. He'd estimated that it'd take us about six hours to climb from the village we had stopped in to the monastery, so by my watch we should be there pretty soon, although he probably didn't account for me slowing him down. I may have been the quickest rider on the team, Stealth an appropriate moniker when I'm in AT's, but in regular footwear I'm clumsy and uncoordinated. He starts to climb up the small rock face he had jumped down, and I'm quick over, offering my hand to pull him up. He looks at it a second, dumbfounded before placing his hand in mine, letting me assist his light frame back to the pathway. He's quick to pull it out of my grip, palms slightly sweaty. Why doesn't he want me to touch him?

'From what little I know I think it's just over that incline,' he says, starting to walk ahead, gesturing to the hill.

I follow him, what more can I do? I don't know what to say to him to make up for the fact that I've already let him down. He needs me to be the one to take charge, and all I find myself doing is sitting back and taking orders as usual. It's pathetic. He was the one that chose the motel's, that knew where we could go without causing questions or suspicion. Sure I'm good at travelling and keeping below the radar, but it always takes me a few days to suss somewhere out; his calculating gaze seems to have it sorted in seconds. I wipe the new beads of sweat from my forehead, pulling at the sweat dampened shirt which clings to my shoulders. I'm really going to have to up my game.

He stops still and I step into him, making his smaller frame stumble. Even so he doesn't snap at me as he once would have, a good verbal kicking for being so clumsy.

'I can see the rooftop, just over there, see it?' He asks, simply raising his arm and pointing to the raising brick shadow looming big between the leaves. Crouching down he rummages in the backpack, taking out two guns, checking they're both loaded and safe before holding one out for me. I take it grimly, stashing it in the front waistband of my jeans, pulling the t-shirt up and over it, hoping that the open shirt will do enough to conceal it. Agito's goes in his back waistband as he closes the backpack. I feel a surge of energy, the tingle in my veins at our two regalia's so close. It shivers through the humidity, sticking to my skin, sliding over it until the hairs prickle on the back of my neck. Since I first earned them it's been like this, so overwhelming to my senses. I once asked Agito if it was the same for him. He had mumbled a half assed affirmative before changing the topic.

'We've got to be alert, there has to be a reason, other than it's seclusion, that she chose this place.'

I nod, still staring at the building as though it were a monster crashing through the trees. The moment is so close to overwhelming me I feel the nervous tremble of the breath in my lungs, the weakening of my resolve. It's not that there may be a threat to our lives, I've lived with looking over my shoulder every single day since I ran; it's that if this doesn't work out and she doesn't agree to aid us then the mountain we climb may as well touch the Gods, because we'll never be able to reach the top alone.

'So what's the plan?' I ask, moving from foot to foot, unable to contain my restlessness. His eye settles on me, still, calm, but utterly disappointed. It makes me cringe. With him here like this it's too easy to slip back into the old way; of sitting back and letting everyone else decide my fate. I open my mouth to apologise but he turns away from me. I see the slump of his shoulder, that sigh once again on his lips. He slings the backpack lazily up onto one shoulder as he straightens them, pretending like what I said doesn't bother him.

'We knock on the front door.'

That's it? What if he's right to be this cautious, to bring the guns. What if there is an army of samurai guarding her? It could be any kind of danger, or any kind of trap, or... or... When I look up he's already started walking. I find myself following mutely.

The clearing in front of the building is neat and tidy, and as we walk into it two sets of eyes are on us. A man sits on the porch, smoking a pipe, wearing loose robes which are gathered at the waist with an embroidered sash. The other is in the same outfit, looking at us from beneath his brows as he tends a vegetable patch. As we continue to walk forward, the man on the porch lowers his pipe, eyes steady as they regard us, a face wrinkled with age, although not over fifty. I can't stop the clamminess of my palms as I watch him exhale, the spirit thin grey tendrils of smoke snaking above his head. He doesn't seem at all bothered by our presence, and I see the sheathed sword at his side, tied by the sash. Agito's steps are quicker, surer, and he walks ahead. I don't try to catch him up. I need to get my nerves under control and I swallow to try and alleviate the persistent dryness of my mouth. Standing behind the Storm King before he was crowned I rarely had this problem, not when I had to fight for our lives, my loyalty something which could never have been questioned. But stepping out of his shadow... it always felt like this. Sure I surprised myself in those moments, when I let my wings spread their full diameter, embraced the power which boiled inside me; but I was happier to be led. Not that it makes much difference now. He saw that power as a threat to his absolute rule, especially when my relationship with Agito and Akito came to light. If it hadn't have been for Agito I'd have probably been killed long ago, that or would have been beaten into an even lower state of submission. They gave me the confidence to open my eyes, if I hadn't have had that, I'd be under his thumb still, doing any terrible thing he asked, blind as all the others who follow him now. I owe the man in front of me more than I can ever repay; and all I do is disappoint.

The man on the porch raises his hand, silently bidding us both to halt when we're about six feet away from him; standing directly in the sun which burns high above our heads. Without the tread of our feet to disturb it the silence clings to me, threatening to slip down my throat, climb into my lungs and suffocate me.

'Your business here?' The man asks, a smile in his voice but not in his eyes, these are hard with mistrust.

'We're looking for Ringo Noyamano. I was told that she was staying here. Red head, glasses, about this tall.' Agito raises his hand to just a fraction taller than himself. I feel my heart beat faster, not at the man's look, but because of the tone of Agito's voice. It's one of disinterested superiority, a measured authority which surprises me; both because of how softly spoken he's been since I met him again and the silence of the past two days, but also because he sounds so much wiser without the anger which used to rest behind his arrogance.

'You ask a lot for someone so young,' the man replies, almost teasingly. His eyes don't stick to Agito long, sliding back to look at me as though he thinks that I'm the one who is truly a threat here. Is it to do with my build; still dwarfing Agito's added height? Or do I look older? Then again, this is how it used to be, one of the reasons that Agito was always so dangerous. He was constantly underestimated until the very moment he had you in his bloodied, hungry fangs and there was no escape. The man stands, and there is no disguise in him this time, hand inching the sword out of its sheath as he glares at the both of us in challenge. He's no longer feigning a friendly greeting. 'Still, you are mistaken to think that someone of that name lives here.'

'What would you have me call her? Thorn Queen? Rider of the Sonia Road? I'll name her however you want, but we will speak with her.' Agito insists, strong and unwilted in the face of this hostility.

'There's nothing for you here, go home child,' the man insists firmly, drawing the sword free another inch, letting us know that he isn't kidding. I see the other man straighten up, see that he too is armed.

I go to reach out, hand raised ready to grip Agito by the shoulder and tell him that we'll come back another time. But my hand stops inches away as I feel the past roll over me, threaten to knock me off my feet. It's the same aura as when he stood there above us all, the victor with the bloody spoils of the Kintetsu Bulls swinging on his hooks, a sadistic smile on his face and a bloodchilling laugh on his lips. It lasts only a moment, but I have to close my eyes and savour the feeling of the Agito of my memories standing proud beside me tearing through everything in our path with blood on his face and a curse on his lips. He's straightened up, his full five foot five but seeming taller, bigger, his killing aura distorting the senses.

'Call me kid one more time and you will find out who you are speaking to with such disrespect.' Agito spits glaring at the man with a look which tells him he wants him dead on the spot and has already envisioned a thousand ways to do it. It's enough to make the man re-sheath his sword and keep his eyes fixed on Agito. 'Ask our names before you're so quick to tell us we have no business here.'

'Who are you?' He asks, eyes wide as he regards Agito with something akin to awe and horror. 'I sense... power... Storm K...'

'Don't fucking insult me by finishing that word,' Agito yells, taking a step forward to the man, so much anger in his voice it comes off nearly as pain. He's shaking, his whole body. For the first time since we met again, I'm scared of him, and I revel in the fright which tingles over my skin. Should I feel so much joy in fear? 'I am Agito Wanijima, Fang King of the Bloody Road, not that... that...'

'You're here?'

It's her voice. I look up to the balcony, find the ghost of the person we used to know as Ringo standing there. She looks ten years older than us, lined around the eyes, skin sallow pale, none of the old glow of life, even her hair is dull and lifeless, no gleaming sunset lustre like when the sunlight used to dance on it.

'Did you want it to be someone else?' Agito asks gruffly, but already he is shrinking into himself, falling back from the powerful aura leaving him looking as worn and fragile as before.

'Kazu... I thought... thought you'd gone for good,' she says as her eyes fall softly on me, moist with tears.

'Things change, can we talk?' I ask, somehow forcing the words out when I'm so taken aback by how broken she looks. I dig my nails into my palms to centre myself, letting the pain bring me back to this shitty reality, keeping my head out of the past. What did I think I would find? They both fought so much harder than me.

It takes a moment but she nods. 'I'll be down in a minute, we can sit in the garden.'

The man turns back to face us as she walks into the building.

'I'm sorry for my lack of manners, but we have to prevent people who could harm our residents from entering.' Agito just shrugs his thin shoulders, not even looking at the man, seeming completely disinterested in what is passing now. I want to reach out and touch him, ask him what the problem is. But not here, not infront of all of these eyes. 'Follow me and I'll take you to the garden, I'll get one of the girls to bring some tea.'

He turns and we follow him. I don't look at the house as we walk through it, nor the people who turn curious glances our way. All my eyes can see is Agito, his back to me, head slightly bowed as though it takes too much energy to hold it up. Worry bursts in my chest, this feels different to the silence of the walk here, it's as though I can taste the bitterness of his pain in the air. I let my hand reach out, squeeze his shoulder through the soft cotton of his T-shirt. He doesn't shrug me off and I'm glad, because right now... I don't think I can offer him much more than this.

Taking the seats that are indicated to us I'm glad to find that it's in shade, the heat and humidity already making my limbs weak and my mind fuzzy. A teenage girl appears and places a tray of tea down, she looks so shy and meek I don't have the heart to ask for the cold drink my body is craving. Ringo moves over, a quickness in her step I hadn't anticipated and I nearly choke in shock as she flings her arms around me, kneeling on the floor as she hugs me. I can only stare in surprise, never having really been this close with her before. Sure we've known each other since we were children, but she always kept her distance from other boys, saved everything for him.

'I didn't think you'd be coming back,' she says softly as she pulls away, blushing as she realises how forward she's just been, retreating meekly to her seat across from me and Agito.

'Neither did I, but here I am.'

She nods, reaching out to pour the tea. As she picks up the teapot I hear the stammer-like chink of porcelain parts, the lid rattling as her hand trembles. I see her eyes fix on the hand, stare at it until it cooperates with stillness. Is this nervousness over our unexpected visit, or persistent fallout from that day, the loss of her sisters?

'You look so different, the years have been kind to you Kazu.' She smiles, and I know she is referencing what others perceive as my handsome face, my healthy build; all of it different to my awkward youth. 'And you Agito, if it weren't for the eyepatch and the way you spoke I'd never have recognised you.'

He shrugs mutely at my side, chin in his hands as he invests his full attention to the glittering stream water whose fresh mountain water carves its way through the garden, gurgling softly. She looks to me for an explanation and I can do nothing but sigh and shake my head. There's no point hiding how he is from her, she'll soon see the difference when he isn't calling her 'that sleeping forest bitch' and spitting verbal venom at everyone near him.

'So how have you been?' I ask, trying to divert her attention from him and keep a conversation flowing. We... I came here to ask her something, the worst thing that can happen is we sit here in awkward silence until I just blurt it out.

'I... better,' she blushes, staring down at her hands, pushing a cup of tea to me with the tips of her fingers before raising them and pushing the thick glasses back up the freckled bridge of her nose. 'And you, you left the country?'

'Yeah, it feels like I've seen half of the world,' I reply, shifting in my seat, feeling so awkward I want to run off and forget this whole stupid idea. How can I come here and ask this of her? I'm such a bastard. Her eyes move to Agito, and I can tell that she has so much to say but is picking her words carefully. She has to be wondering about us, if sitting here together means that we're... back to how we used to be. That or she's just surprised he didn't rip my head off the moment I reappeared in his life.

'Agito, I heard that Kaito died, I'm so sorry.' She finally comes out with, softness and pain in her voice at the thought of her own losses.

'One more death on top of it all was meaningless,' he answers flatly, mumbled through his fingers not raising his head not moving his gaze from the waters path.

'But he was your family, I know what it's like to lose siblings.' She attempts to sympathise.

'Father,' he corrects with the same disinterest, 'Kaito was my father not my brother.'

I never though those words would leave his lips so freely. He hadn't taken the news well, had hidden it from most of them only me and the Storm King knew the truth of his birth.

'Oh.. uh..' she fumbles, 'how is Akito?'

'He's fine.'

'And Lind?'

'Gone.'

She sighs, turning back to me, eyes quick over my face, trying to read it for any answers for his behaviour. She won't find any, I know little more than her.

'So... ' She sighs, exhaling so fully that I expect her to completely collapse with how low her shoulders drop, 'I take it that this isn't a social call. You need me for something and went through a lot of trouble to find me.'

'I came back to the city because I saw what was happening and knew I couldn't let him carry on this way. I was willing to do it all on my own, but the more I've seen... and with bumping into Agito... I'm hoping that I don't have to.'

'This... was your idea?' she asks, obviously surprised as she lets her eyes move between me and the silent man at my side one more time.

'Yes,' I reply sternly, filling with conviction as I remember why I came back here, why I need to do this no matter of who will end up standing at my side. 'I'm not going to let him carry on like this, we put him on that throne, even if we didn't mean for this to happen. I'm going to make up for the part I played... I have to.'

'It's better to put it in the past, to move on and forget it.. forget him.' Ringo insists, although she pales with every word.

'You can't believe that, you can't want all these people to suffer just so you can forget your own pain.'

'You did!' She shouts back, eyes pointed with anger. 'You turned your back on us when we needed you the most, when we had a chance of stopping him before all of this happened. If you'd have been there...'

'Then he'd most likely be dead as well,' Agito interjects calmly, turning to face her, pushing the hair back from his eyes. 'The past is the past and we can't change that, the only thing we can shape now is the future, and Kazu's right to want more.'

'Is he? Or are you simply letting your feelings blind you?' She asks him now, flushing with emotion.

'If there is anyone who is guilty of that here then it's you' He replies calmly, not reacting to her anger, her passion. The look in his eyes is one I can't read, a swirl of emotions he's hiding beneath his calm face. 'How old is she?'

'Excuse me?' Ringo asks, looking away quickly, brow furrowing as the blush on her cheeks strengthens.

'You think I'm that slow? The toys in the garden, the pink and glittery hairband around your wrist with some black hair trapped in it, so obviously not yours. I'll ask you again, how old is she?' he continues, not breaking eye contact with her now, although there is no emotion positive or negative on his face. I've never seen him look so blank.

'Four and a half,' Ringo answers, looking down at the table top, covering the hairband wrist with her other hand, closing over it although it's too late to hide it now.

'He's the father isn't he.' Agito asks bluntly.

Ringo nods, lips trembling with emotion as he eyes fill with tears.

'What... wait. You have a kid, with, with...' It clicks, and my mind starts to collapse.

She hides her face with her hands.