A/N: I know this update took quite a while. I'm sorry about it, but my focus was split among several fics, and then there was real life with all that comes with it. Getting back to this was a lot of fun, though. Hopefully, updates won't take this long again.
Monty hadn't been there when Sensei had actually told Yori she was to become his partner in training for the rest of his stay. Not that he had missed much of anything, for he could easily imagine how things went: as soon as Sensei was done speaking, Yori had certainly bowed and uttered the fakest 'it will be my honour' ever uttered in history. Still, he thought, he was pretty sure she was going to obey the order: she clearly respected Sensei far too much not to.
What he wasn't sure, however, was whether that would be good news for him or not.
"You're too eager to strike back," Yori said flatly after turning his attack against him once again.
Monty snorted as he dropped back in a fighting stance. "Am I?"
"Yes. You take stance too soon before attacking, but it doesn't make your attack any quicker. It simply tells your adversary what your next move is. How do you think I could anticipate every and each of your attacks?" Yori asked, her voice still flat. She was clearly trying her hardest not to let her contempt against him show, but she wasn't having much success. If anything, Monty thought, she wasn't trying to maim him for life – and was that actually some advice that had left her mouth?
For a moment he was tempted to tell her that he didn't need her advice, especially since for all he knew she could be giving him the wrong suggestions so that he'd be easier to defeat – but then it occurred to him that it was true, she had managed to anticipate pretty much all his moves throughout the training… which could mean that maybe he really made the mistake to give his moves away before actually using them. The thought he could have been making such a blatant mistake hadn't even crossed his mind; no wonder, considering that he had never been fond on admitting he could be wrong over something.
"Very well," he finally said "I suppose I'll keep it in mind."
"If you want to truly learn something, you should," she pointed out, her voice still flat. She was about to add something else, but then they heard the sound of a gong, and she dropped her stance. "I suppose it's enough for this morning. We should head back to eat."
Monty snorted. "What's the point? I already know I won't get any food until evening," he muttered irritably. In that place even having lunch was troublesome. The previous day he had tried more than once to snatch something to eat from the tray some… ninja lunch lady was holding, but she was too quick and he had eventually had to give up and walk away with all the dignity he could muster, pretending not to have heard the chuckles behind him. Of course, he told himself, she had been quicker with him than she had been with the Yamanouchi students, all to get him back for… for something he had never even done. Had she moved the tray at the same speed he had used for the others, he knew he would have managed…!
"You can't know unless you try, don't you think?" was Yori's reply as she walked to the centre of the yard, and he finally followed her, still scowling. Still, he went to sit in a corner without even approaching the tray; if they thought he was about to give them one more reason to ridicule him, they were very much mistaking. He could do without food until evening after all, Monty told himself. His stomach grumbled as if in protest, but he ignored it and turned away so that he wouldn't have to see those imbeciles chewing on their rice. If they thought they could make him-!
"You're once again letting your pride rule your actions," a calm, collected voice spoke from behind him. Monty turned to see Sensei standing beside him, handing something to him – a bowl of rice. It took Monty some effort of will not to stare at it – who was he trying to fool? He was starving – and to force himself to just look at Sensei instead.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm simply not hungry," he lied.
Sensei chuckled. "Fine then, let's say you're not hungry. But your body still needs some nourishment if you want to be able to keep training until evening. I trust Yori isn't letting you slack off."
Monty frowned. "She sure isn't," he muttered, but he finally reached to take the bowl and brought some rice to his mouth. It was nothing special, just cold rice, but it tasted better than any other meal he could recall having. Hunger could certainly work miracles, he thought as he tried to keep eating normally, possibly without stuffing his face as he had seen Ron doing in Bueno… something.
Seemingly unbothered by the fact Monty hadn't even thanked him, the old man sat next to him. Monty expected him to say something, but he didn't: he just stayed silent, as if waiting for him to speak first. Monty tried to focus on his lunch at first, but the silence soon unnerved him. "Is anything she isn't using training as an excuse to spill my blood," he finally muttered "though she certainly isn't glad to have me around."
Sensei nodded. "She certainly isn't. As you might have imagined, she has a grudge against Monkey Fist."
"You don't say," Monty said sarcastically.
"She had few encounters with him," Sensei went on, as though Monty hadn't spoken "but each was a bad experience. The last one especially wounded her deeply," he paused "you could say it wounded all of us. Perhaps you should try to understand, and reach out for her. For the others."
Monty had the unpleasant sensation someone had just twisted his insides in a knot. He didn't know much of anything of what had exactly happened during that encounter – only that Monkey Fist had managed to steal the Tempus Simia… and that one of the Yamanouchi ninjas had died in the attempt to stop him. Kim had said it had been an accident, but now that he knew Monkey Fist was more than capable to kill, and had killed at least once… then could it be that…?
The thought made him clench his jaw. Had Monkey Fist truly killed one of them, the hatred the Yamanouchi ninjas seemed to hold against him would have a more logic explanation. For a moment he wanted to ask, but in the end he just shut his mouth without speaking: he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. He put down the half-empty bowl. "Whatever Monkey Fist did to her or to the other students here is none of my concern," he finally scoffed. Considering how they had treated him, why should he be the first to reach out?
Sensei shook his head. "I'm afraid it is of your concern. Not your responsibility, perhaps, but you can't behave like it has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with you," the old man added before getting up from his sitting position "but enough of this chat. I think it's time for you to resume your training," he said, and Monty followed his gaze to see Yori walking up to them with a blank expression on her face.
Monty was started to loathe that particular expression: it was almost better when her face would twist in distaste upon seeing him, when she'd openly accuse him. If anything he could retort to that, snap at her and tell her that she had no reason, no right to despise him as she did. Now he had no real excuse to snap at her, no way to start an argument that could somewhat prove, to her and himself, that he was not to blame. Mostly to himself, maybe: it was clear that to her, to everyone in there, he was guilty without appeal.
It stung more than it probably should have.
Try to reach out for her, Sensei had said. The old man made it sound so easy: it wasn't to him that she was a wall of ice, Monty thought with a grimace as he and Yori kept walking in silence on the path surrounding the school's wall. The patrol duty – he wondered, not for the first time, what made them think sending him in night patrol duty along with her was an even vaguely good idea: wasn't he supposed to stay in to be protected? – certainly wasn't pleasant, even less when your companion is pretending you're not there. That annoyed him even more than her accusations: being ignored was something he couldn't stand.
"Why so quiet? No insults left to throw?" he asked after a while to break the unnerving silence.
Yori stiffened, but she kept walking without looking at him. "We're not suppose to speak while on patrol."
"Because of course you have the habit of talking my ears off in any other moment," he said sarcastically "you have quite a lot of animosity against someone you only met a few days ago," he added, fully knowing he was getting himself in a dangerous territory – but he wanted her to snap, wanted her to resume throwing her accusations at him: to that he could respond, defend himself. Something you can't do with someone who simply speaks to you as little as possible and pretends you're not there most of the time.
Yori scowled. "We have met, one year ago for the first time. On this very mountain, when you kidnapped me and then tried to dip me and Stoppable-san in the crater of a volcano," was the dry reply.
"I never did anything like that," he retorted through gritted teeth "if you expect me to apologize you're very much mistaking, especially for something I never did!"
Her eyes narrowed. "It's something you will do."
"Never!" he snapped "you don't even know-" he trailed off as Yori abruptly stopped walking and turned to face him, her eyes ablaze. Well, it looked like he had managed to get that indifferent façade off her. The problem now was that he wasn't that sure it had been a good idea in the first place.
"I know you better than I'd like to," she hissed "I know what kind of person you'll turn into. And you'll do even worse as time passes – first the Lotus Blade, then the Tempus Simia, and Hirotaka, and-" he trailed off as though she had said too much, and Monty seized his chance to finally get some more answers from her, even though he knew he probably wouldn't like them.
"Hirotaka?" he repeated "who's that? I haven't met anyone by that name in the school."
She clenched her jaw for a moment. "Of course you didn't meet him – he's not here," she finally said "he's not among us anymore. And do you know why?" Yori's steely gaze made him shift uncomfortably as he hoped he had not just guessed the answer. Fat chance. "Because he's dead," Yori finished, her voice growing weaker "he's dead because of you. He was between Monkey Fist and his goals – between you and the Tempus Simia– and he lost his life for that."
It was the reply Monty had feared, but also half-expected. For a moment he felt as though he had swallowed ice and he thought of Bates, of how horribly calm Monkey Fist was when he let him know what he had done to him, but he chased away the sensation. Bates had trusted him enough to think he could set things right again. He had risked and lost his life for that hope, and he wasn't going to disappoint. "Because of Monkey Fist," he retorted "not me."
"There is no difference."
"There is, and you know it," Monty snapped at her "say, weren't you the one leading that mission?"
Yori stiffened once more. "What are you trying to say?"
"That you're blaming me because you can't stand it that you couldn't protect him," he said with vicious satisfaction – it was about time she knew what it meant being blamed for a death he hadn't caused! "You couldn't get your hands on the one who actually killed him and you don't want to admit it was your fault, so you just think you can blame me and-" he trailed off as Yori took a step forward so that now they were eye to eye, her eyes narrowed. He had clearly hit a nerve.
"You won't speak of Hirotaka ever again," she hissed "have I made myself clear?"
Monty glared back. "Only if you never mention Monkey Fist again. And leave me alone. Now."
There were a few moments of silence as they stared at each other, and Monty could see her anger flaring up in her eyes. Still, she said nothing more, she just pulled back and resumed walking, her steps quick, and the message couldn't be clearer – don't approach again.
Well, it wasn't like he looked forward to have her company again. So he was more than glad to let her walk ahead, so far ahead that now he couldn't even see her in the darkness: he didn't feel in danger – how could he, knowing that there were ninjas guarding every path leading up the mountain? – and the night certainly wouldn't seem as long without having to walk beside her, confronted with her mute disdain and-
His train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by something that he later wouldn't be sure how to define, perhaps as the undefined sensation of danger approaching animals sometimes feel – but whatever it was, it saved his life. The moon was full that night, and the very same instant he lifted his gaze from the ground, his muscles suddenly tense and the hair on his neck standing on end, he could see the shadow of someone leaping on him cast against the wall.
Monty acted out on instinct, without thinking, without even turning to see who his attacker was: he just leapt forward and rolled across the ground, the blow that would have broken his neck narrowly missing its target; but it did hit his shoulder blade, hard, causing him to let out a pained gasp as he performed a shoulder roll and got back on his feet to take a defensive stance, trying to ignore the pain.
There wasn't that much light, but it was enough to see who his attacker was, and it was no one he had expected, because the young man standing in front of him with a furious grimace on his face he was no one he knew – and certainly not Monkey Fist. For a moment Monty thought he was one of the Yamanouchi ninjas, if anything because he was clearly Japanese and couldn't he much older than he was himself, but something didn't add up: he couldn't remember seeing his face and the gi he was wearing looked old and ripped in some points, as if-
His attacker gave a cry of rage and attacked him once more, and there was no more time to think: Monty managed to dodge one of this blows and to block another, but a powerful kick in his stomach sent him tumbling on the ground, and his attempt at twisting in mid-air only resulted with him painfully landing on his face. There was a sharp pain and he could feel blood dripping from the cuts on his face and his upper lip had split, but Monty barely acknowledged that. He rolled on his back to leap on his feet, but the ninja – yes, he had to be a ninja, he fought like one – was on him before he could, hands gripping at his throat.
"Die," he snarled, struggling to adjust his grip on Monty's neck so that he could snap the neck bone, and it was only then that Monty truly realized he wasn't just going to try to cause him a bruise or two – he was out to kill him and no one was coming to help him, Yori wasn't coming, and maybe she wouldn't because she wanted him dead as well so that Monkey Fist could never exist. Maybe the whole patrol ordeal was nothing but a trap he had walked straight into, and if that was the case he had no chance to make it out of it alive.
The thought filled him with fear and despair and anger, which blew away any confusion and left him furious, more lucid and focused than he could remember being – if he were to die there, he wouldn't go down without a fight.
Just as the ninja managed to grip his throat tightly enough, Monty brought up his knees until they almost touched his chest and braced his heels against his attacker's stomach to violently throw him off himself. The young man hit the ground with a muttered curse, and Monty was on his feet before he could recover. The fury that pervaded him was only equalled by the vicious satisfaction as he delivered to his adversary a vicious high kick that hit him straight on his face, knocking him back once more. His cry barely covered the cracking sound his nose made breaking, and Monty almost laughed in delight for a moment at the sensation of finally being in control again, of being able to hurt after being kicked around so many times by those blasted ninjas.
"Did you think I would go down so easily?" he spat as his attacker made it back on his feet, holding his bleeding nose and staring at him with murderous eyes "I don't know who you are, but I'd suggest-"
"You don't know who I am?" his opponent roared, and Monty trailed off, taken aback by the pure anger and venom and hurt in his voice "you ruined my life! Ruined me! Took my honour, everything from me, and you dare to ignore who I am?"
All of Monty's anger seemed to vanish for an instant, and he found himself lowering his guard despite himself. Monkey Fist, he thought, what could Monkey Fist have possibly done to him to make him want to kill him? How many lives had he destroyed? "I…" he began, not even knowing what he'd say next, but he didn't get a chance to add anything more, for the young man leapt on him once more with a cry of rage.
Monty immediately shifted his weight and braced himself to fight back, but it wasn't him to meet his attack: it was someone else, a shadow among shadows that seemingly appeared from nowhere to send the stranger tumbling on the ground before he could even touch Monty again – Yori. She stood between them in a fighting stance, her eyes fixed on the attacker, and despite the relief Monty snapped at her.
"It was about time you showed up," he snapped, and she seemed to stiffen a little at the remark. Still, she didn't reply: she just spoke to his assailant, her voice as cold as ice.
"I didn't think you'd have the courage to show your face here again, Fukushima."
"Fukushima?" Monty repeated, frowning a little. No, the name didn't tell him anything… still, why should it? He had never met him before that night. Not him.
The young man called Fukushima glared death at her. "You know who he is! You know what he'll do! Let's just finish him, and nothing will have happened! It would be for the best, and you know it – you all know it! Why are you protecting him?"
Now it was Monty's time to fume. "I don't need her protection!" he said, fully knowing it was anything but a clever move, but he would be darned before needing any kind of protection from someone who despised him so clearly "I could-"
"Just blow the horn," Yori cut him off without even turning to look at him, and it was only then that Monty was reminded of the horn he was given before going on patrol, the one hanging from his belt that he was supposed to blow in case of danger or if he spot an intruder. He had completely forgotten about it.
How very clever of you, Monty, old chap.
Fukushima gave a cry of rage as he saw him reaching for the horn, clearly desperate to finish him before he could call for help, but Yori met his attack, and Monty had the time to bring the horn to his mouth and blow. The sound echoed through the mountain and Fukushima let out a curse. He managed to get Yori off him and, with one last furious glare at him, turned to flee – he leapt in the shadows, and a moment later he was gone. Yori seemed about to go after him, but she hesitated, and only instants later Monty found himself surrounded by several Yamanouchi ninjas. He blinked in surprise: it had only been instants from when he had blown the horn, and he hadn't even heard them coming, and… where did they appear from anyway?
"What is it?" one of them, a man Monty had seen teaching several fighting techniques to the students, asked.
"It's Fukushima, Kaiji-sempai," Yori said, bowing her head a little "it seems he's still on Mount Yamanouchi after all. He escaped as soon as you arrived."
The man frowned. "And so he never left," he muttered before turning to the others. "He can't have gone far. Kayako, Yuki, Toshio – you'll go up to north while Tomoko, Chiyo and I go down the southern path. Yori, warn the others and bring him back to the school. He's hurt," he added, even though it was clear from his stony expression that he wouldn't have bothered to lend him any help had it been him to decide.
"It will be my honour," Yori said quietly before turning to Monty, and he was taken aback by how tired she suddenly looked "come, those wounds need to be tended."
For a moment Monty was tempted to tell her he could do that by himself, but he felt tired as well, drained, and there were questions he needed to ask. He merely nodded and followed her back into the school while the other ninjas started their search.
"I'm not sure, KP," Ron muttered through the half-chewed naco "I mean, that sounds like a sucky time to be stuck into. No TV, no videogames, no internet… no nacos!" he added with a shudder.
Kim shrugged. "Well, he isn't exactly from our time, so TV aside I don't think he got any chance to grow to like that kind of stuff anyway. Also, he doesn't seem one for nacos."
"Hey, I could have converted him to the Word of Naco if we didn't have to send him back in the time stream so soon," he pointed out. Beside him, Rufus nodded. "And to Zombie Mayhem, too!"
She had to chuckle as she recalled his unenthusiastic expression when facing either thing. "I'm sure he'll be fine when he is. We won't have to leave him back there… well, back then for long. Besides, he mentioned he was interested in that period. I'm sure he'll even have fun taking a look around until we take care of Monkey Fist and can let him get back to his own time. Like a vacation, or something."
"Yeah, good point," Ron said, making a face "some guys have odd ideas when it comes to vacations. Hey, speaking of ideas, I have this cool idea for the mascot's number at the next match…"
Kim let him blabber about his plans for the Mad Dogs mascot for a few more minutes – Bonnie was so not going to appreciate his idea of trying to climb on top of the cheerleaders' human pyramid and start foaming in case of victory – before she gestured for him to stop and turned to look around as casually as she could. "It's gone," she finally said, smiling a little. Yes, it looked like the plan had worked: the monkey ninja who had been observing them – and eavesdropping their conversation, as weird as the thought was – was gone, most likely to report to Monkey Fist what it had heard them saying.
Ron gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, great! Because you know, it wasn't fun eating nacos while knowing there was a stinky monkey near. Took away some of the bliss. Do you think he'll fall for it?"
Kim shrugged. "He has no reason not to," she said "the monkey he sent to have information on Monty's location comes back to tell him that we didn't spot it, and that it heard us talking about having sent him in another time to keep him safe. I'm sure he'll fall for it. And as long as he keeps looking for him in the past, Monty is safe in the present."
"And we can track down Monkey Freak any time he uses the Time Monkey," Ron added "not bad at all."
"Yeah, that's a nice plus," Kim said with a smirk. That was almost too convenient, but she sure wasn't going to complain. The more chances they got to snatch the Tempus Simia from him, the better it was.
Monty couldn't really say he liked the idea of letting Yori take care of his wounds, but when she had silently fetched some cold water, ice and a cloth after leading him to the infirmary and telling him to sit he hadn't found it in himself to snap at her to leave him alone – partly because he felt too drained to do so, and partly because he had some things to ask her and that would have probably made her less than willing to speak. Not that it stopped him from at least mumbling something on how he didn't help as she sat next to him and brought the wet cloth to his face, more out of habit than for anything else.
"Weren't you also saying something about how you don't need any protection?" Yori said, gazing at the cuts and bruises on his face but she didn't sound at all satisfied as Monty had expected her to. So much the better – he didn't feel like having to discuss, not now.
"I was wrong," he just admitted, blankly staring ahead, the he blinked as he realized that she had paused, the cold cloth not having touched his bruised skin again. He turned to see her quizzically staring at him. "What?"
She recoiled and clenched her jaw a little before resuming her work. "Nothing," she said, not really wanting to let him know how much he had just surprised her by just admitting he had been wrong "you were very lucky. There are no permanent injuries," she added, fully expecting to him to mutter something on how he wasn't feeling that lucky at all, but he once again surprised her.
"I suppose I was. More than him."
"Are you referring to Fukushima?" Yori scowled, as always when she thought of that traitor "he was far luckier than you can imagine. He managed to get away, and I doubt we'll find him-"
"What happened to him?"
She blinked. "What?"
Monty turned to glance at her, and she was surprised to see how bitter the expression on his face was. "When I said that there are more people who'd rather see me dead than people who want to help me out, I didn't think I was being so accurate," he said bitterly "he didn't attack me randomly, did he? He wanted to kill me, and me alone. He accused me of ruining his life. So don't pretend you didn't understand what I asked and just tell me – what did Monkey Fist do to him?"
Yori hesitated, then she just put down the cloth – his lip had stopped bleeding – and put some ice in it before pressing it against his cheek. Once again, she was a lot gentler than Monty would have expected her to. "Fukushima was once a student here. Monkey Fist convinced him that it would be a disgrace to Yamanouchi aiding Stoppable-san to become the Monkey Master and use the Lotus Blade-"
"The Lotus Blade?" he asked, suddenly distracted "the shape-shifting sword? It's here?"
She froze for a moment, mentally cursing herself for that slip of tongue, then she just pressed the ice against Monty's face again. "That's beside the point," she said in the kind of tone that discouraged any further questioning "the point is, Monkey Fist convinced him to help him getting the Lotus Blade, probably by telling him he was the true Monkey Master and that Fukushima was destined to aid him. Such arrogance!" she snorted with a loathing in her voice Monty chose to ignore – it wasn't like he could complain after all.
"So he convinced him to betray Yamanouchi? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes. Fukushima helped him setting a trap by using me as bait, and then he tried to get rid of both of us once Stoppable-san came to my aid. Once their plans were thwarted, Fukushima was expelled from the school; he avoided more serious consequences only because of his young age, and because secrecy had to be kept."
"So he assumed that if he killed me, Monkey Fist would never come to be and he would never lose his honour. It does make sense. But how could he know I was here?" Monty asked.
Yori shook her head slightly, a thoughtful frown on her face. "He can't have known it from anyone in the school, of that I'm certain – we all severed any contact with him. However… maybe he never left Mount Yamanouchi, the shame being too great for him to return to his family: what we know for sure is that he never returned home. But that he could get close enough to the school to see you and gather who you are without being detected… that's unacceptable. We should have known he was here."
He just nodded, not really caring about how much that upset her; all he could think was that maybe that Fukushima person had more reasons to hate him than anyone else in there. He still refused, absolutely refused to take any blame for it, but still…
"Just how many people did that man destroy?" he asked, quietly, and for a moment his features twisted in such a bitter expression that she felt almost sorry for him. Almost.
"I don't really know. But I thought you said that what your old valet told you was enough and that you didn't want to know anything else."
"I don't," he replied, barely wincing as Yori pressed the ice against his face again "but if there are other people around here who actually want me dead, I'd very much like to know it in advance instead of having to find out the hard way."
"There is no need to concern yourself. You're safe here."
"Am I? It seems like we give two different meanings to the word safety," he said a little sarcastically.
She stayed silent for a moment before replying quietly. "What happened was caused by my mistake – I shouldn't have left you behind while on patrol. It will not happen again," she said quietly.
"Ah," Monty seemed taken aback for a few moments before he cleared his throat. A part of him was agreeing that yes, she was supposed to be watching him, but on the other hand… well, he did claim he didn't need any kind of help, and he did downright ask to be left alone. "It's alright."
"No, it's not. It was my duty to watch over you, and I failed," Yori shook her head "the last failure of a long series. It's not alright."
Mont found himself thinking back of how he had felt after knowing Monkey Fist had killed Bates – he had hated Monkey Fist so much that he could have killed him, he still did… and he had hated himself for signing Bates' death sentence by just turning to him without thinking of the consequences that could have for him, and the guilt gnawing at him had been almost too much to bear. He wondered if that was how Yori had been feeling about Monkey Fist, about him, and about herself.
"I didn't do much to convince you to stay close to watch over me as you should have. I said some things I wasn't actually thinking," he finally admitted "I'm… sorry about your friend. Hirotaka, wasn't it?"
Yori sighed. "Hirotaka, yes."
"I'm sorry for what happened to him. And I'm sorry I brought him up as I did," Monty seemed hesitant for a moment before he spoke again "I don't know exactly how things went, but… I promise his death won't have ever happened once the time stream has been fixed," he said a tad awkwardly.
Yori looked surprised and for a moment she stared at him as if trying to decide if he was being honest or not, then her gaze seemed to soften slightly.
"If you actually do not want to become Monkey Fist, then… then his death will not have happened," she said, clearly barely allowing herself to hope that would happen "in any case, the blame of what happened tonight to you is mine. It was my duty keeping you safe, and I wasn't supposed to let anything you told me lead me to do anything but what was expected from me. I have no excuses and will welcome whatever punishment Sensei will see fit in the morning."
"Not if I told him you were with me all the time. Nobody saw much of anything, and we could say that Fukushima stunned you and-"
"I wouldn't do that!" Yori protested, sounding offended by the mere thought "I cannot lie to Sensei or to the others. It will be my honour to face my own responsibilities."
"Fine, fine. You certainly are obsessed with honour," Monty muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Some people do value their honour," Yori said a little coldly.
"Why, no need to be offended. I simply wanted to hel- ow!" he yelped as the ice pack pressed again on his lip, which still hurt like hell even though it had stopped bleeding.
"Keep still," Yori just said, and he relaxed again as he realized she had not hurt him on purpose after all "it won't hurt for much longer."
Monty did as she instructed, and for a while they just stayed silent. It was eventually Yori to break the silence. "In any case, I suppose I should thank you. Even though it would involve lying, I… do appreciate the fact you wanted to help me," she finally said.
Monty frowned a little, unsure whether she really appreciated it or just wanted to make up for leaving him behind and thus vulnerable, then he simply shrugged. "You're welcome," he said. He had thought that would end the brief conversation, but Yori had something more to say. Something to ask.
"Why?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why would you be willing to lie so that I won't face my rightful punishment?" she asked, putting the ice pack aside "I did leave you behind, and… I certainly haven't made your stay pleasant," she sounded a little hesitant now "Monkey Fist would certainly love to see me punished for my mishap."
He snorted. "Just in case I haven't made it perfectly clear to this point, I am not Monkey Fist," he snapped "what do I have to do to convince you?"
Yori sighed. "Nothing, not anymore. I'm starting to see just now how unfairly I've treated you."
Monty opened his mouth to retort, then he paused as what she had just said sank in his brain. "Wait, do you mean…are you being serious?" he asked, wondering if he heard well "did you hit your head in the fight?"
She couldn't hold back a chuckle before turning serious again. "I wasn't harmed, unlike you," she muttered, glancing a little worriedly at the bruise forming on his cheekbone "but I have been taught to be humble, and humbleness also means being aware of one's own fallibility. I forgot this when I refused to listen to what you've been saying all this time to cling to a prejudice," Yori said quietly before bowing her head slightly "it is my honour to apologize."
"Ah." He stared at her for a few moments, speechless, then he recoiled. "Apology accepted," he said, then he smirked "or, if you prefer, it is my honour to accept your apology."
Yori seemed amused. "I'm glad to see you're not holding grudge."
"You do have your reasons to despise Monkey Fist, and… it is an unusual situation," he conceded "and I suppose I didn't do much to be a pleasant guest."
"Neither I did much to be a pleasant host," she reminded him.
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, it appears we're destined to argue, no matter what. I suppose now we're going to argue to get the blame of what happened until morning. Or perhaps we should simply agree that we're not agreeing and leave it at that."
Yori smiled a little and seemed about to reply, but before she could the door slid open, and they both turned to see Sensei walking in. "Master Sensei," Yori said, quickly getting on her feet before bowing. Monty did not get up, but the old man didn't seem to expect him to, and he merely nodded at Yori.
"I have heard what happened from Kaiji," he said "so Fukushima is still on the mountain, and had the nerve to attack. I am sorry you had to face his wrath," he added, turning to Monty "you will not be sent to patrol until he's caught. As long as he's free, you'll be in danger."
"So they couldn't find him yet," Yori murmured with a frown.
The old man shook his head. "Unfortunately not," he said "but tell me, Yori – how could he come close enough to you to attack? And how come he carries the marks of a fight?" he asked quietly "you have all the necessary skills needed to keep Fukushima away from him."
For a moment Monty was about to open his mouth and come up with some excuse for her, but before he could she lowered her head and replied. "I was careless," she said "I let my emotions rule me and left him behind. Had I arrived a few instants too late, he might have not survived the encounter," she added, and Monty had to bite back a retort on how he wasn't doing that badly.
"Hmmm," Sensei looked at her thoughtfully "to be honest, Yori, I expected you to behave differently."
She lowered her gaze. "I know I failed – it will be my honour to face whatever punishment you see fit."
Sensei nodded. "Very well," he muttered, stroking his beard briefly before looking past her and directly to Monty "do you think a punishment would be fit?"
Monty found himself dumbly staring back at him. He wasn't serious, was he? "I… what?" he stammered.
"You're the one who was wronged. I'll keep whatever you say it in mind before voicing my decision."
"Ah," Monty shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Yori, whose gaze was still lowered. He hesitated for a few more moments, then he remembered the apology she had offered him only minutes earlier and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I… downright demanded to be left alone. I suppose I have my share of blame, so if you do think a punishment would be fit I demand… I mean, I request to share it," he added, a part of his mind wondering if he had just gone insane. Judging by the surprised look on her face, Yori was wondering the same thing. It looked like sanity was not an option for him after all. Oh well.
Far from looking surprised, Sensei smiled at him as though he was proud of him. "I see. Although I must say that the wounds you got would qualify as a punishment already," he said, some amusement showing in his voice, then he turned to Yori "your remorse if more than enough, Yori. I don't think any punishment is needed, but I do expect you to perform your duties with more attention."
Yori bowed at him. "I will, Sensei," she said quietly as the old man nodded one last time and left the room.
Monty sighed. "Well, it went better than I expected. Though I must say that if you let me tell him… what?" he asked as he noticed she was looking at him as though she had never seen him before.
"Why didn't you ask for a punishment?" she asked him "I… was unfair to you," she added uneasily, and Monty knew what she was thinking – Monkey Fist would have loved to see her punished. And he knew that until maybe a hour earlier he would have got quite some satisfaction upon seeing her facing a punishment, if anything for the way she had been treating him. But she had apologized, and… and he wasn't Monkey Fist.
"I was under the impression we had settled for not starting a contest to decide who's guiltier," he finally said with a somewhat awkward chuckle, and she smiled back, if a little hesitantly.
"Your actions honour you," she said, bowing a little to him "thank you, Fiske-san."
Fiske-san? Now that was a drastic change, Monty thought before recovering from his surprise and bowing back, if a little hesitantly. "It was my honour."