A/N: I actually made two drafts of this chapter, but the first one didn't please me so I rewrote the whole thing, thus the lack of update. And I think I might need a beta now. Sniff. Anyway, I want to thank all my dear reviewers. I love you guys soooo much! The conflict would begin in the upcoming chapters so I hope you could hang on till then. It's just that there are a lot of things I still have to tackle before I get to it. And so as not to confuse, the first part of this chapter is sort of a flashback. On with the show!
0o0o0o
When he was 13, he wanted to be a slayer because it was the coolest job in the world.
Just imagine. He gets to choose whatever outfit he wants and nobody would give a damn because he is the people's protector. They'll think it is part of his job. And clothes are crucial to being cool. That's why he can't understand why his father chooses to wear the same old warrior clothes when he has every right to wear something cool. If he were old enough, he would never, ever adopt his father's poor fashion sense. He'd strut down the alleys in a long, black, genuine leather trench coat, complete with English boots. And of course, he wouldn't forget his sword which will perpetually remain strapped on his back when not in use. By appearance alone, the humans- and the undead, of course- would all fear for their lives. Or their lack thereof.
He will be called the Vampire Slayer Kurogane.
He has everything planned up to the infinitesimal detail. He is thirteen, and he needs only three more years to become a full pledged vampire slayer. His parents have been training him for a couple of years now and it won't be long before he could execute all those rigorous trainings in hard combat. He knows that he still has a lot to learn. He says he is already good, but he can't even deliver a punch smack into his father's face. And so, he trains and trains hard, and his efforts put a smile on his parents' faces.
When he was 14, he wanted to be a slayer because he wanted to surpass his father.
He idolizes his father in every way. Well, except for the clothes, of course. It became his life's dream to be as good as his father is, but even greater became his desire to surpass him. It is said that the value of a teacher is reflected in the student. He believes in it. And he wants to be worthy enough to be the son of such a great man. He wants people to acknowledge his parents' efforts in raising him. He dreams that one day, he will walk the streets of the town wearing his by then signature long, black, genuine leather trench coat, English boots and sword in hand. And people would come out and say warily:
"He is the Vampire Slayer Kurogane".
And so, he trains hard again. Even harder than before. Harder than he had ever tried in his fourteen years of existence. And once again, he makes his parents proud.
And one day, his efforts finally paid off. He has punched his father on the face.
He was too dumbstruck at first. And then he smiled. And his smile was so wide it was contagious. His parents smiled with him. And so did the world.
When he was 15, he wanted to be a slayer because he wanted to be strong.
He is in school and it is recess time. He stifles a yawn as he watches his classmates play spitball out the window. Curious, he walks over to them to see what the poor victim this time is. But he sees a ragged child gathering junk underneath. And the spitballs were adding to his misery.
"Stop it!" he growls at his boisterous classmates, but nobody would listen to him.
"I said stop it!" he repeats, but they continue their little game.
Fuming, he strangles one of them, topples over him and a fist fight ensues. Suddenly, the teacher enters, sees him on top, scolds him and sends him back home with the dreaded letter.
As soon as he enters the living room, his ever caring mother fusses over his wounds and bruises, never asking what kind of trouble he's been into and why he is home at so early in the morning.
His father simply looks at him and signals him to follow.
He follows.
He gives his father the letter, but his father wouldn't even look at it.
"Why?" is all he asks.
"They were spitting at a beggar." He answers, but he doesn't explain his side of the story. Because he knows he is right. It isn't necessary.
He looks up, and sees his father smiling.
"You're not angry?"
"Why should I be? You stood up to what you believe is right, Kurogane. You followed your heart. That's what matters."
"So you.. you believe me then?"
"I do."
And then, he was 16.
And so comes the day he's been waiting for all his life. That day, he was going to be a slayer. An official registered one. He is nervous, and so are the other youngsters. He counts the hours, the minutes, the seconds until the ceremony begins.
It is dusk, and there is a certain calmness in the air. As if the night is made especially for the ceremony. Twelve of them are chosen and as he falls in line, he looks towards his parents. His mother waves at him. His father looks at him.
He has never felt that happy in his life.
His name is called, he kneels, but just before the priestess gives him her blessings, several blurs of black attacked the people around and the next thing he knew, the priestess before him was lying on the ground. Pale. Dead.
Screams and yells follow, along with a mad stampede. They are being attacked. Chaos follows. He is lost among the sea of people. He is useless. He doesn't know what is happening. He doesn't know what to do.
The calm of the night is broken, the people are screaming. He runs. He tries to go to his parents because he knows they are fighting. They are in duty. And he should be too. He is now officially a slayer after all. He runs blindly, but a strong hand holds him back. He looks up. His teacher. He wishes to be thankful but now is not the time. He struggles. Wildly. Violently. Until the strong hand slowly loses its grip on his arm. He sees dead people. Lifeless, but not bloody. Not an ounce of blood is spilled on the ground. The corpses are ghostly white. Drained of blood. With fang marks on their necks. Their attackers were too many for their few warriors. Vampires.
Vampires.
He arrives at the place where his parents were a while ago. But the area is bare. Nobody is fighting anymore. Instead, several bodies were strewn on the ground. All had the same characteristics. Pale, drained, lifeless. He digs among the corpses desperately. He finds them. His mother is dead, her eyes are wide open. He closes her eyes. He kisses her.
"Kurogane?"
He turns his head so violently that it could have snapped out of his body. His father, there on the ground, just spoke. He lifts his father's head and he cradles him on his lap.
"Father, let's go home."
"Kurogane?"
He wants to cry now. But he keeps his tears at bay. His father never cries. So he knows he shouldn't too.
"Yes, father?"
"I'm proud of you."
And just like that, he died. He hugs his father's body. His idol. His saint. His god. Dead.
The calm of the previous hour returned once again. And he, along with the few dozen who survived, buried their dead in the middle of the night. He took his father's clothes and his beloved Souhi. His sacred sword.
That night, he said goodbye to his mentors.
That night, his father had said he was proud of him, but there was no longer a trace of the usual smile.
That night, he forgot about the trench coat and the English boots.
Because when he was 16, Kurogane became his father.
0o0o0o
Fai clapped his hands dramatically as he went out of his hiding place. He had been watching Kurogane and Syaoran battle with a lone vampire and it amazed him that they barely scratched themselves.
"That was a great move, Kuro-tan! You're a super slayer from a video game! Hi-yaaa! Yaaaaaa!" Fai praised, imitating the other's actions.
"Stop that, idiot! I didn't move like that!"
"Yes, you did!"
"No, I did not!"
"Yes, you did!"
"NO, I DID NOT, YOU IDIOT!"
"YES, YOU DID!"
"Kurogane-san, I've finished burning the corpse. Let's head back home!" Syaoran called over his shoulder.
"Che." Kurogane turned around grumpily, temporarily relieved because of the diversion Syaoran presented. He followed the kid.
"Neeeeeeee.. Kuro-tan?"
"What, now?!" he asked irately, facing Fai.
"I'm proud of you." And the blond man smiled, and followed Syaoran.
Kurogane was left standing alone, this time perplexed. A wistful smile wormed its way out of his tight lips as a dozen memories brought him back to his bittersweet childhood.