The Hika Blabs ::

I thought now would be a good time to start touching up on Kaze and Kale's past… Not those bits you've seen before, but rather the "how in the world did these two weirdos get together anyway" sort of past. I did promise I'd go back sometime soon, and well… here it is. Hika's little summary of how it all began… sorta.

Beware though, because we do funky time travelling combined with Hika's choppy-ness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online (duh), and Kigami Kaze's original character design belongs to my amazingly talented friend, Minou.


Chapter 9
オレにとってはただのバカでさぁ…

(To me he's just a normal idiot)

The smell of cigarette smoke was overpowering. The tendrils of grey white extended their fingers, weakly reaching out for something, then fading into a thin but overwhelming scent. Kale frowned and opened a window, even though after nearly one and a half years living with Kaze had more or less increased his immunity to the annoying fragrance of smoke, too much was never good. The cool autumn breeze, mingled with the smell of fallen leaves blew in. It created a strange perfume as it mixed with the cigarette smoke.

"Aren't you smoking a little too much lately?" Kale turned away from his temporary input of fresh air, looking accusingly at Kaze.

"Why can't I?"

Kaze's tone held its usual bite-back quality, the tone he used whenever someone chose to tell him what he should be doing. Kale could identify that tone by now. He scratched the back of his neck, in slight exasperation, trying to find a better way to put it,

"You're coughing a lot lately. And those asthma attacks at night…"

"It's autumn." Came the excuse, before a coughing fit.

"See?" Kale crossed his arms and leant against the windowsill, "Stop smoking so much. Why in the world do you do that, anyway? Is it that fun?"

"Not really." Kaze paused, exhaling a cloud of white smoke, his fingers fiddled with the box of cigarettes, the white sticks within making a cheery clatter everytime he shook them ever so slightly. His index finger ran along the front of the box, carressing the red packaging. "It's because it's red."

"It's… what?" Kale blanched.

"Red." Came the reply, a matter-of-fact reply.

Kale raised an eyebrow at that. "A lot of other things are red. Why not try tomatoes instead? How's that? Tomatoes instead of cigarettes."

"Don't like tomatoes."

Kale frowned slightly, trying to remember what else was edible, healthy, and red. "Apples! You like apples, Kaze?"

"… they're okay, I guess."

"Good! Then eat more apples and smoke less cigarettes! They're red!" Kale nodded sagely, "A balanced diet for a healthy lifestyle!" He wasn't a person who was terribly picky with being healthy and all that, but Kaze and his cigarettes were a different story. For one, the smell (nowadays much stronger than before, perhaps due to the large amount Kaze was smoking) was too strong, for another, Kaze's coughs at night were disturbing. More disturbing than those nights when he woke up, gasping in cold sweat; almost crying.

Kaze stared. Midnight-cobalt blue eyes blinked a few times, a strange look of wonder in them. Kale noticed the look, and frowned again, red eyes suspiciously glaring back,

"What?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kaze's lips as he shook his head,

"You… sound like my mom."


Red was the colour that reminded him of her. Her hair was red afterall, the sunset-dyed ruby red; bright red. Kaze didn't really know when his obsession with red began. Perhaps along with his obsession for cigarettes, for women. He smoked, he flirted, he ended up with countless one-night-stands, countless disappointed girls who left him, one after another. Ended up with nothing else except more cigarettes, more women, and a blurry reminder of blood red during a rainy day.

He had wandered too; moving from one city to another, never staying too long, a mere drifting along with the breeze and tides of time. Everytime things got too noisy, everytime things got too annoying, he moved. And smoked more, and indulged in more women that he would forget about the next day.

He didn't like Prontera. It was, afterall, the capital city of Rune Midgard. Capital cities were busy places, full of people, that could resemble an ocean; full of people that Kaze didn't really want to even be amongst – the crowds never failed to give him a headache.

Yet today he had walked through the main gates and stepped into the bustling capital city, perhaps because everywhere else he had spent too much time in already. The sights were typical, the crowds were typical, the marketplace sold typical items, and as he walked past a group of young women, the gazes they slipped at him – almost secretly, as if it wasn't for him to notice – were typical. He inhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke and flashed a smile at them.

Anything. Anyone. So long as they took up some space, temporarily.

Still, he continued walking – having caught their interest, he could always find them later – squeezing unhappily through the crowd he hated. Tiill there was suddenly a tug on the corner of his shirt, a tug that was not strong enough to even jerk him to a stop, but yet managed to pull something else to a stop within him.

The cold, rainy memory of that day.

He turned. Face to face with bright red hair, a careless grin.

Like that day. Almost.

The young boy in front of him didn't stop grinning, "Hey, you dropped your wallet just now." He held up a purse, "Saw it drop out of your pocket."

Kaze shook his head slightly, just to get rid of the frozen thoughts that had managed to settle; the blur of bright red that he had never forgotten, the blur of bright red that haunted every corner of his vision. This wasn't his mother though, obviously. He had to hold in a snort of disgust – at himself, perhaps. This was just a young kid.

He took the purse from him, nodded not-so-gratefully, then turned away.

But the tug had pulled something in him to a stop.

And he wasn't able to forget.

Especially later in the evening, in the inn he was supposed to stay for the night, when he realised the purse returned to him was empty.


A week or so had passed from that encounter in Prontera, and despite all his promises to himself, Kaze found himself once more in Morroc. Still, staying around the desert city wasn't that unpleasant, so long as he didn't bump into any family members – or distant relatives – who would notice him. So long as he didn't go anywhere near his home. The Thief Guild was far away from his home, which was perhaps why Kaze could allow himself to even seek it.

He had, being the clever person he was, kept with himself an ample supply of zeny (taken convieniently with him the day he left home, then nearly spent completely after a week or so; still, whatever was left was still a relatively large sum) that was supposed to last him for approximately one more week. That one tug had tugged said ample supply of zeny away from him.

Kaze, disgruntled he was, could find no other way for survival other than to start taking up jobs. He didn't like taking up jobs, and wondered if he could offer to do the more simple ones within the Thief Guild – those that didn't involve killing someone. He couldn't kill anymore. Not now.

"Your name?"

"Kaze." He had paused then, "Kigami Kaze." Not 'Ashetaka', but 'Kigami'. His mother's name.

"Sign here then," The reception shoved a yellowed piece of paper at him, along with a pen.

Kaze let the pen hover for a moment, before scrawling in messy script something that resembled a signature. He didn't really have a signature – he never bothered to remember one – but it wasn't as if the reception would actually notice… right?

He slid the contract back across the counter, wondering if he could still back out of it a few months later, after he had enough money.

"According to the contract, we will provide you with a place to stay. The initial rent has been paid, but after this month it will be your responsibility. Be happy that you will be able to share that load along with the workload with your partner."

"Partner?" He had not heard about a Partner. The Thief Guild was known for not-having-Partners.

The guy at the reception – what was his name again? Kaze failed to remember – understood his question immediately, "Oh. New rule passed down by the King… or something like that. Something about believing in Partnership Making People Stronger." The man shrugged, "You don't have to work with him for all your jobs, but you will share the residence. It is easier for us this way, really."

Kaze wondered if the Thief Guild agreed to those terms because they obeyed the King, or if they were just using it as an excuse to pay for less housing rents. He shrugged it off after a few seconds of consideration – it was of no importance. Having another person share the rent with him would definitely be better, he supposed. And so long as his Partner was clever enough to leave him alone for most of it, both of them would be happy.

The man at the reception led him into one of the smaller waiting rooms of the Thief Guild. "Introductions," he started glumly, without a tint of enthusiasm. Anyone else's enthusiasm of meeting their new Partner would have been doused by his Un-Enthusiasm. "Your new Partner, Kale… Kale, Kaze Kigami."

Though Kaze's Enthusiasm was doused, something else was not. And that was the realisation mixed in with fury mixed in with ridiculous happiness, that his new Partner was the person who had very kindly stolen all of his money.

He smiled. Threateningly.

Kale's grin twitched. Involuntarily.


Kale – the kid had no family name, and even if he did, refused to tell him – was only a year younger than he was, but was bursting with the energy a stereotypical kid his age was supposed to possess. Kaze gave him hell for their first week stay together, partly because he knew this was the person who stole his wallet, partly because the kid was really, truly, one of the most annoying people he had ever met.

The grin that never left his face, the witty sarcasms that he said with cheeriness that were always rather provoking despite the smile that came in the same package, the non-stop bombarding of random ideas and topics that forced Kaze to talk. And talk. And talk. And talk till he was so tired he had to stand up, slam the table, shout a curse word, and hope that he got his point across.

But all Kale did was to grin happily at him, and ignore previously said curse words and offending insults. Kale Continued Talking. Kaze had to restrain himself from attempting to strangle the kid – he had afterall promised himself that he would never ever kill another human being ever again; if he did he'd commit suicide next. And the thought of killing the annoying brat, then having to end his own life because of that, was ridiculous. Kaze didn't really see the point in ending his life because of some overly-talkative wallet-stealer.

Still, he had to admit, Kale could make decent dinner.

He was stirring a pot of curry now, and the smell was promising. Kaze watched from their small living room with their solitary sofa as Kale threw in the potatoes he had diced previously into the pot of store-bought, ready-made spices. "Hey, Kaze…"

Kaze groaned. That was the usual beginning of another one of Kale's random conversations. "What?"

The doorbell rang.

Kale looked over his shoulder, his mouth forming the beginning of an unspoken sentence that was swallowed and replaced with another, "Who's that? We don't get visitors at night…" Pause. "Wait, don't tell me you flirted up some more lovely ladies and asked them to dinner at our place? I didn't cook enough, Kaze!"

Kaze got up from his comfortable dent in the sofa, sighing, "No. I didn't." He preferred to spend nights with women – alone – preferrably in an inn or a hotel of sorts. Not with Kale. (Though he had to admit, with Kale's non-stop-conversational skills, it was much easier to attract girls and get friendly.)

The man standing at the door had the worn down look and rotting cloak (smeared with blood and other things that were the main culprits for its rot) of a messenger from the Thief Guild. "Kigami Kaze and Kale?"

Kaze frowned, "Yes?"

"There's been an urgent notice from the Guild regarding a certain job no one else has been free to take up… As you and your partner are currently free-"

Kaze didn't let him finish. "What job."

His glare made the messenger stumble a step backwards. "The… the usual…?"

"No."

"B-but everyone is convinced that both of you have the ability to do much better than those currently taking up such jobs…" The messenger trailed off, "Plus, aren't you earning a little too little taking up those jobs meant for amateur Thieves to do? Surely your partner…"

"Doesn't mind." Came Kale's voice from behind him, the red-haired kid standing on slight tiptoe so he could grin at the messenger from behind Kaze's shoulder.

"But-"

Kale held up a hand – still behind Kaze's shoulder – and grinned, "I like working for pretty girls, and I'm not interested in killing people, or getting involved in sticky politics of secret information and all those confidential things. Plus, you probably got it wrong with us being able to handle stuff. I can't, and this guy here's more unreliable than I am."

Kaze raised an eyebrow at that. The messenger went pale and began to splutter,

"H-how could you say that!? Do you know who your partner is!? He's the eldest son of-"

Kaze bristled, his hand at his side clenching into a fist. Again? And he had taken so much care to attempt to keep it concealed. Why did people have to try to dig it up and wave it around again?

"The eldest son of the Ashetaka family, talented and meant to take over his family business, yes, yes, I know…" Kale rolled his eyes, "You think I've never heard about that from all those whispering people on the streets everytime they see me walk around with him?" He placed a hand on Kaze's shoulder, and firmly, almost gently, pushed him sideways so he could step in front. His other hand extended his middle finger to flick at the messenger's nose. "In my eyes he's just another idiot. Lazy, self-centered, childish, and very forgetful and unreliable. I know him more than you do, because I've just suffered his wrath for a week. Okay? Got it?"

"But-"

Kale shooed the man off with one hand, and with the other hand slammed the door in his face. He had grinned at Kaze then, a simple grin. No more words except a careless punch on the shoulder,

"Lighten up. Your knuckles are white. You need that hand if you want to enjoy your dinner, you know?"


It wasn't something they didn't notice.

The fact that whilst Kale struggled to grab hold onto a fragile Strength, Kaze wanted to keep falling.

It started with the colour of red and a tug.

It started with the unwilling offer of a chicken leg.

It started…


Afterwords:

Well. Well well well.

Here you have it. The "How It All Began". I think there might be slight differences with the writing style, since I wrote the previous chapters during my summer holiday, and this was coughed out… today (and yesterday). There's a bit of a time lapse, and to tell the truth I don't know if I've managed to preserve the initial style of Stray… Much apologies. But bleh. I'll get it back soon, I hope.

Every time I switch to Kaze as the viewpoint character, the story stinks of Angst… (snorts) Anyone smelt a soon-to-come danger? XD

Oh well, perhaps the next chapter will end up more lighthearted… I don't know, it depends I guess.

Ah, and Hika will be adding links in her profile for character sketches and art and all that soon, so if anyone's interested, please feel free to check every now and then… XD (Beware the health of your eyes! BEWARE!!!)