Disclaimer: I do not own Tumbling or Kamen Rider Kiva, nor am I profiting from it in any way. This fiction was written solely for my own pleasure.

Warning: This fiction contains shonen-ai. This means romance between guys. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, then don't read this. I am in no way responsible for those who do not heed this warning.

Summary: Tumbling Post-series. AU w/ crossover with Kamen Rider Kiva. Premise: "What if Takenaka Yuta was Kiva?"

Azuma Wataru wondered why it took him so long to realize that while he considered Takenaka Yuta like a brother, he hardly ever knew anything about the kind captain's life outside of tumbling. But he's about to discover a whole other side of Yuta's life, a side fraught with Fangire politics, obsessive violin playing, and unimaginable danger.

Pairings: Wataru x Yuta, eventual Mizusawa x Kiyama, onesided Yuta x Tsurumi, Hino x Mari, Nago x Megumi

A/N: Expect chapter updates to be updated roughly once a month unless noted otherwise. Please do not bombard me with emails demanding me to update faster. It's rather annoying and not at all helpful. I will update on my own time. Also, fill out the favorite Tumbling character poll on my profile—it'll help me gauge which characters you guys are most interested in reading more about and will be a contributing factor in the development of the fic.

Additionally, it is not my policy create OCs. In fact, I am aware that many readers (including myself) find them rather obnoxious, particularly since they often function primarily as self-serving fantastical versions of the author. However, for given the depth and breadth I have given this world, OCs will be needed to move the plot along, particularly since there is so much we do not know about the Tumbling cast and their families. I will keep OCs to a minimum though, and render the Tumbling and Kiva casts as faithfully as possible.

Fangire Spring

Chapter 11- The Many Woes of Nago Keisuke, the Restaurant from Hell, and the Garulu Saber

By fieryrondo

Yuta could hardly believe his bad luck. Of all of the people he had to bump into on his way home, it had to be the crazy man that tried to kill him.

And now he's going to kill me.

"You…" Nago began. Yuta tensed, his legs ready to spring into action. He had no way of judging whether or not the man was a fast runner, but Yuta hoped that he could use Nago's larger frame against him. "You are the violinist from the other night. Takenaka Yuta-san, was it?" Nago's eyes glimmered with the light of recognition and his face relaxed into a slight smile. "The boy with the honest eyes."

Yuta could only stare. That sounded a lot like a compliment. People generally didn't give compliments right before they killed someone, did they?

"Come join me for a cup of coffee at Café Mald'amour," Nago suddenly said, dark eyes ablaze.

"Ehhh?" The cry of protest slipped through Yuta's teeth before he could suppress it. He looked down into his partially opened school bag and to his great annoyance, Kivat was pretending to sleep, tucking his head under one of his wings.

"But—it's late, I have to get home, my parents are expecting me—" How strange it felt for Yuta to refer to Hiroto and Naomi as his parents, when he was now only starting to unravel the mystery of his real father.

Nago's lips pursed into a stern pout, his cheeks puffed. The change in demeanor from serious to contrite was so swift Yuta wondered if it was possible for Nago to be a Fangire—his switch in personality was just that disturbing.

"The path of the just is truly one strewn with thorns," Nago said with a sigh. "I've faced a lot more difficulties than usual. Megumi-san won't answer my calls, my precious apprentice insists on instigating his little rebellion—to have the temerity to quit…does he not realize that he cannot see the path of justice without my light to guide him?"

Yuta wasn't sure how much of Nago's dramatic rant was processed in his brain, but one particular fact did stick out.

"Wait, Hino-kun quit?"

"Wait! Come back here!"

Oomura Takeo did not obey. He merely fired a few shots at his pursuer. To his satisfaction, the Fangire yelped in pain the shots hit home. With nary a backwards glance, Oomura made himself scarce and hopped away. After backtracking several times in case there was another follower, Oomura slowly made his way back to the apartment, and melded back into his human form. His hands trembled as he reached into his pocket for the key.

With a jerk, he unlocked the door and dashed in, slamming the door shut behind him. With a loud gasp of relief, Oomura flicked on the lightswitch, revealing a studio apartment with soundproofed wall. Except for a cot in the corner and an ancient piano in the center of the room, the room was largely devoid of furniture. But that was the way Oomura preferred it.

"It doesn't matter," Oomura said aloud as his hand reached out to caress the piano keys. "If Bishop's agents are already after me…" Terror seized him as he contemplated the possibility of his address being known to the slimy Checkmate Four member. The Checkmate Four's authoritative power over the Fangire was heavily crippled by the fact that three of the four members were missing in action, but even Bishop alone was still quite dangerous. Oomura had relied on the fact that Bishop would be too busy trying to rein in the young and wild Fangire that would be foolish enough to draw unwanted attention. Now Oomura could only curse his foolish brazenness. Despite they were both musicians, Bishop was no friend of his. While Oomura was perfectly content to stay away from humans and let them live, Bishop favored extinction, a move that Oomura didn't think made the least bit of sense. It seemed incredibly stupid to wipe out your food source. Oomura had a romanticized perception that some humans were not merely food, but were artist, a view that irked purists like Bishop to no end.

Oomura's hopes of being left alone to a long and quiet life were dashed. Bishop was on the move, if his agents were already afoot, ferreting out hiding Fangire and summoning them to answer Bishop's call. Though Oomura was no longer active in the Fangire underground news network, even the rumors of the appearance of a new Kiva had reached his ears.

"Like the Fangire need another genocidal maniac," he snorted, but shifted uneasily. Kiva's arrival was an ominous portent, a sign that the Checkmate Four would be reassembled. And if all four of them were assembled…not even Oomura could hope to defy them. His best bet was to gather his belongings and flee as far as he could. He heard that Hokkaido was a nice and quiet part of Japan, though he shuddered at the thought of enduring its icy winters. Frogs don't do well in winters and Hokkaido's winters were known to be harsh.

Oomura's eyes fell on the color photo of Yuta playing, clipped from the concert program. His eyes darkened with worry as he realized that fleeing to Hokkaido would involve leaving his student. Though Otoya did not explicitly mention anything about protecting his son, Oomura thought that abandoning Yuta danced perilously close to betraying the man.

Especially since Yuta's life energy was at that particular stage of development. Unwittingly, Oomura licked his lips before frowning at the sight of the twin transparent floating fangs that had materialized. He banished them away with a wave, wearily sinking onto the piano bench. When had his young student's life energy looked so good and tasty? Human life energies fluctuate, and every Fangire, of course, had his or her own preference for type of life energy. Some liked children, others liked the sweetness of women. But one type of life energy that was universally succulent to Fangire was the life energy of humans who were passionately in love. The love didn't have to be romantic, though many Fangire found the flavor of romance very appealing.

What disturbed Oomura was that Yuta's life energies were reaching maturation levels, characteristic of humans who were deeply in love, romantic or platonic. It was one of the reasons why Oomura hated the tumbling team—they were a risk for Yuta, who could not help but care for them dearly. Yuta's kindness only made his already delectable life energy even more attractive for hungry Fangire. Oomura supposed he should be thankful that Yuta did not seem romantically inclined towards anyone—there was nothing like the distinctive flavor of a human in love. Even Oomura was unsure if he'd be able to resist.

"I can't take him with me," Oomura said to himself, his hands clenching into tight fists. "He wouldn't go willingly. He's too damned attached to those tumbling guys. But if I go and leave him, who's to stop other Fangire from attacking him? He's no Otoya, but I need his music nonetheless…"

Oomura swore as he slammed his fists down on the piano keys, cursing the futility of his situation.

"Eat up, eat up—it's my treat!"

Hino could only groan in reply. Unperturbed by her student's apathetic response, Megumi cheerfully fed him a piece of mackerel.

"You've got to eat up, build up your strength, Hino-kun!" Hino looked at the young woman with a newfound respect. How the hell a model was able to put him through five hours of brutal combat training and still have the energy to smile and make jokes…Hino did not want to think about the possibility too deeply. Besides, he was simply too exhausted. Tumbling training was nothing compared to Megumi's training. Hino was certain he had torn every muscle in his body—it certainly felt like it, as if someone had ripped the muscles off his limbs and set them alight. Megumi assured him that it was perfectly normal to feel that way.

"You're sure you're not just trying to kill me?" Hino croaked. The pain in his right arm had subsided a little, enough so that Hino could reach for his cell phone. His face tightened at the two missed calls from Mari.

Megumi, for all of her affected—or maybe she was just naturally that way—blasé approach to life, did not miss the look of consternation that crossed Hino's face.

"It's Mari-chan, isn't it?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Hino slowly nodded.

"It's the second date I've had to cancel," he said. "I feel like a jerk. She probably hates me. I'd hate me too, if I were her—"

Megumi wiped his cheek with her napkin.

"Silly Hino-kun, you've got soy sauce on your cheek," she said, her hand stilling as Hino's hand closed around hers.

"What are you saying—we didn't get soy sauce," he said, pulling her hand away from his damp cheek.

"My mistake," Megumi said, with a grin before digging into her rice bowl with manly gusto. "Finish your dinner. I'll drop you back at your place."

Hino stared at her before picking up his chopsticks.

"Arigato."

Meanwhile, sitting two booths down, Tsukimori Ryosuke frowned, his eyes uneasy..

"Master, two coffees please."

"I don't drink coffee," Yuta said, his voice laced with frost.

Kido Akira's hand hovered over the coffee beans.

"You don't like coffee?" he asked slowly, his tone scandalized.

Yuta immediately looked chastened, his gaze lowering as he scratched his head sheepishly.

"I meant no offense," he murmured, his cheeks coloring. "I'm sure your coffee's delicious. It's just that—coffee's never agreed with my stomach. My body doesn't seem to like it."

"How curious," Kido Akira said. And it was curious. Kido allowed there were those who simply did not like the bitter taste, but it was rare that he'd encounter someone who could not digest it properly. Kido could only remember one other customer who had had a similar adverse reaction to it.

"Master's coffee is the best, Yuta-kun," Nago said,, sniffing the coffee appreciatively. "I'd advise you to try some."

"Thank you for the advice, Nago-san, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Yuta shot back as he ignored Nago, turning his attention to the golden retriever. Getting down on his knees, Yuta approached Buruman.

"What's your name, boy?" Yuta said, scratching the dog behind the ears. Burumon whined and licked Yuta's face.

"He's Buruman," Kido said. "It's unusual to see him so friendly with strangers. People are usually afraid of him because he'd bark at them…"

"There's nothing scary about Buruman," Yuta said, standing up. Buruman nuzzled his hand.

"You're the second person Buruman's ever liked from the get-go," Kido said, his thoughts turning once more to the talented violinist. Come to think of it, the man never liked coffee either, though he had been perfectly willing to drink himself sick for the sake of impressing Yuri.

Kido was drawn out of his nostalgia when Yuta addressed Nago for the first time, his voice chilly.

"You mentioned that Hino's your apprentice," he said. "What exactly are you making Hino do?"

Nago sipped from his coffee.

"That's none of your business, Yuta-kun."

Yuta scowled. "Don't address me so familiarly, Nago-san, when I hardly know you. And you're wrong."

"Me, wrong?" Kido had to give Nago credit. The bounty hunter genuinely looked mystified at the very notion of him being wrong.

"I'm Hino's captain," Yuta continued. "As captain, I have a responsibility to look after my kohai." The ferocity in his eyes intensified. "Recently, Hino's been coming to practice, injured. And I don't mean your occasional muscle strain or tumbling related injury. I'm talking strange injuries—bruises, lacerations, like he was hit with a whip—"

To Yuta's shock, Nago chuckled.

"So that's what it was all about," Nago said, his eyes alit with the spark of pleasure. "To think that he has developed the initiative to go and train on his own. I am extremely pleased to hear that Hino is working so hard. He is truly worthy of being my apprentice."

Yuta crossed his arms, his frown growing longer.

"Care to explain what you mean by that, Nago-san?" he said through gritted teeth.

To Yuta's puzzlement, Nago looked pleased rather than annoyed.

"You have a strong sense of responsibility and justice, Yuta-kun," he said. "To show so much concern for your subordinate…my eyes were not wrong that night. You are a pure person." Nago pushed his finished coffee to the side.

"Yuta-kun…become my apprentice."

"Oomura-sensei was right about you," Yuta said with disbelief. "You're crazy."

Nago's eyes widened.

"Your violin teacher?"

"You caused so much trouble for him that he was almost afraid to come to the concert," Yuta said.

"Yuta-kun, you must realize that your 'violin teacher' is nothing more than a—"

"—a 'monster?'" Yuta finished for him, his suspicions confirmed. "Ah, I heard from Hino. And now I know who's responsible for putting such a ridiculous idea into his head."

"Yuta-kun—"

"I'm not going to listen to any more of your nonsense," Yuta said, cutting Nago off. "And if you know what's good for you, you'd better stay away from Hino-kun too."

With that, Yuta left the café in a huff. Kido expelled a gusty sigh, feeling that a great storm had just passed out the door.

"Nago-kun, you really should watch what you're saying," Kido began.

Nago, as usual, was not paying any attention to anything other than himself.

"Master, my duty as humanity's savior is a very tough one indeed…I say words that must be said, even if my apprentice wishes to shut his ears to them…"

He's not your apprentice, Kido thought as he washed a cup.

"There's nothing like daifuku!" Asakura Aoi exclaimed as she crammed another piece of mouthwatering mochi into her mouth. "Arigato, Ayame-chan!"

Satonaka Mari quietly chewed on the glutinous rice sweet in pensive appreciation.

Yamamoto Ayame blinked.

"What's wrong, Mari-chan? You've been oddly quiet today. Is it the daifuku?"

"No, no!" Mari said. "It's delicious, really, it is! I've had a lot of daifuku because my father's work takes us to lots of places in Japan, but this is really the best tasting mochi I've had so far."

"Isn't it? Kaa-san makes the best mochi in all of Japan," Ayame proudly said, eliciting a chorus of agreed murmurs from the rest of the Karasumori girls' gymnastics team. "Just don't tell Shouko-sensei about this. You know she goes on about the strict diet we're supposed to follow."

Asakura made a face. "Protein shakes? Pass!"

The Kara High girls broke into laughter.

"How are things going with Hino-kun?" Asakura asked.

The girls immediately got quiet, eyes bright with interest.

Mari blushed at their attention, looking down at her half-eaten piece of mochi.

"Oh ho, it must be going good, if even the thought of him can make your face look like that!" Ayame said, grinning. "How many dates have you guys been on?"

"Um…two, I think."

"Ehh? Only two?" Asakura frowned. "I thought you guys would go out more."

"Well…we're taking it slow," Mari stammered. "I mean, there's no need to rush…"

It was really embarrassing, Mari thought with a touch of misery, to tell them that their last date had been several weeks ago. Hino had been oddly busy lately and every time Mari started to bring up the topic of possibly a night out or just a simple walk in the park, Hino had apologized before running to wherever he'd been going. He still returned all of her calls, but often at rather late hours. Their conversations had gotten more terse. Mari, to be honest, was a bit frightened that Hino might have gotten himself into some kind of trouble. Maybe Azuma-kun would know more about that.

"Baka," Naoko, one of the girls, piped up. "It's not the number of dates you go on. It's the quality of the dates. Two wonderful dates are better than twenty so-so ones."

"That's true," Asakura said. "If he's serious, he'll take you out to eat at a fancy restaurant. Maybe French, I hear those are the best."

"How romantic!" a girl sighed.

"Have you heard of the new French restaurant that opened last week?" Ayame asked. "Maison Cercueil? It serves only couples and the food's supposed to be fantastic."

Mari nodded. She'd seen the flyer in the email. The restaurant was actually relatively close to the Azuma restaurant.

"I heard getting a reservation's impossible though," Asakura said. "It's that popular."

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if Hino-kun took you there, Mari-chan?" Naoko asked.

Mari wistfully looked down at her phone.

"Where'd that guy go off to?"

Azuma Natsuko looked up from the sink.

"Ah, Shige-chan?" she asked. "He's been busy sending angry emails and phone calls to anyone who would care to listen."

Wataru, slouched at the counter, with an opened book laid out and an elbow propped up against his head, chuckled.

"What's he up to now?"

Natsuko smiled. "Well, business has been a little slow this week," she said, deftly rinsing a cup. "Shige-chan's convinced that the new French restaurant that's just opened has something to do with it."

Wataru scowled. He remembered passing by the restaurant on his way back home. It looked like a place for the super rich.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but don't you think he might be right? About the new restaurant taking away your customers?"

Natsuko smiled.

"You're so cute when you get riled up, Wataru," she said. "Don't get upset. It's not the new restaurant's fault. They're catering to a different crowd—they only take young couples. We're a family-style restaurant, so there's plenty of business for both restaurants." Natsuko reached out to ruffle her son's unruly red hair. "I won't be mad if you took someone like Mari-chan to Maison Cercueil…"

"Kaa-san!" Wataru whined, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Mari-chan's…well, I think we're just friends now. It didn't work out."

"One of the best things that the young can do is to fall in love," Natsuko smiled. "And I don't mean the speed-dating or blind-dating or whatever it is you guys do these days…"

"You mean like when you fell in love with Oyaji?"

"It won't always happen like that," Natsuko said with fond melancholy. "But when it does happen, you'll know."

"I don't know…maybe my love luck just sucks," Wataru said. "Mah, who needs mushy love stuff anyway? I've got Yuta and Ryosuke and Nippori and Kiyama and Yuta and—"

"You said Yuta-kun's name twice," Natsuko said.

"Eh?" Wataru jerked his head, startled. "I did? Huh, that's weird."

Natsuko smiled knowingly.

'Wataru dropped the box of spare T-shirts he was holding.

"Mizusawa, what happened to you?"

Mizusawa ducked behind Kiyama, a motion that went noticed by everyone on the team. But even Kiyama's height could not hide the thick white gauze that encircled Mizusawa's arm.

Tsuchiya gasped. Kaneko lifted a hand to his lips, his mouth falling open. Hino's eyes narrowed. Ryosuke exchanged worried looks with Nippori. Yuta frowned.

"What happened, Mizusawa?" he asked.

Mizusawa broke into an embarrassed smile.

"It was really stupid," Mizusawa began, emerging from behind Kiyama. "I fell off my bike and cut my arm on the gear chain—you know how rusty the thing is. Fortunately, Kiyama was nearby to help me. It wasn't too serious but we ended up going to the hospital just in case."

"Is that so?" Ryosuke asked keenly, pressing closer. "You should be more careful, Mizusawa. You're not that clumsy, are you?"

"He's not," Kiyama interjected, protectively putting himself between Mizusawa and the others. "You'd better leave him alone; he's been through a lot."

"Maa, maa, wakkata." Ryosuke's eyes glinted with a shrewdness that Kiyama did not like. Ryosuke, in spite of his careless mannerisms, could be annoyingly perceptive.

"How did the chain cut your arm, Mizusawa-senpai?" Hino was asking, his eyes closed in thought. Mizusawa fidgeted a little.

"It happened really fast, Hino-kun," he said. "I didn't really stop to think about how it happened—"

"But you must remember a little more about how it happened," Hino insisted.

Kiyama did not like to intervene and deal with the situation in a more physical manner, especially towards Hino, who looked just as delicate as Mizusawa, but Hino's interrogation, however gentle and genuinely curious it was, had to end. Kiyama reached out to pull Mizusawa away—

"Hino-kun, give Mizusawa some space," Yuta said. Kiyama's hand stopped, inches away from Mizusawa's wrist. As Yuta's eyes followed the movement, Kiyama, realizing what it might have looked like, quickly dropped the hand to his side.

"But—"

"Help me fill out these forms, Hino-kun," Yuta said, a little more sharply. "As the captain for next year, you'll need to know how to fill out the paperwork."

Mizusawa's face shone with gratitude towards the well-timed intervention. Kiyama could not shake off the feeling that Yuta seemed to know that there was more to their story than they were letting on. And he instinctively knew not to press the matter further.

As expected of the captain, Kiyama thought as he resumed fussing over Mizusawa's injury, much to the other boy's pleasure and embarrassment. Yuta…you really are a reliable person.

"You stole my apprentice!"

"I did not! Don't talk about Hino-kun like he's some object—"

"He's my apprentice!"

"Hino-kun doesn't belong to you. And for your information, he came to me. Maybe he was just tired of you—"

"What part of 'he's MY apprentice' do you not understand?"

Shima sighed.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm commanding two squabbling children instead of capable soldiers."

Megumi huffed.

"Nago started it," she said. "He's just upset because I do a better job of teaching Hino than he does."

"Such a notion is laughable, Megumi-san."

"Says the teacher who's so terrible that his own student ran away to find a better one."

"Quiet, you two," Shima said, raising his voice. "Leave your petty squabbles outside the gym, far from my earshot. We have more important things to discuss. Like the new Fangire attacks."

"You're referring to the recent disappearances of the patrons of the new French restaurant that opened in the Minato district?" Nago queried, scanning the contents of the file report.

Megumi perked up at his mentioning of a French restaurant.

"Is it Maison Cercueil?" she asked, looking like an overly eager puppy. "I've heard that they have the best food. The chef is kind of a sketchy guy but his food is to die for—"

"You may be very close to the mark, Megumi-san," Shima said. "We have reason to believe that the chef and owner of the restaurant, Count Inukai, is a Fangire who uses the restaurant as a preparation ground to fatten up his customers' life energy before killing them."

"It's bad taste to kill your customers," Megumi said with a frown. "I feel like a Fangire would have more sense than that. I mean, he wouldn't be able to stay in business for very long if he keeps picking off all of his customers, right? You're sure he's a Fangire?"

"The name he gives the restaurant is kind of obvious," Nago said. "Though I feel insulted to think that he has such a low opinion to think that humanity's savior does not know French."

"Cercueil means 'coffin' in French, Megumi," Shima informed her. "And we have not confirmed his Fangire status. It may be the case that another Fangire is responsible for this and is merely using Inukai's restaurant as a feeding ground."

"So you want us to go undercover and investigate," Megumi said with a nod. "Understood. Hino-kun and I will look into it."

"You mean, you and I will look into it," Nago corrected. "Hino-kun is still a minor, and a high school student."

"So? I mean, we're just pretending anyways, and it'll be good practice for Hino-kun." Megumi paused before grinning mischievously. "Ara…are you jealous, Nago?"

As Nago sputtered, Shima took that as a chance to reach for his aspirin.

"Hino-kun?"

"Hmm?" Hino looked up, his cheeks bulging with the onigiri he had just bitten into. Mari laughed at the sight.

"You look like fugu, Hino-kun," she giggled.

Hino swallowed, his face twisted with mock dismay.

"That can't be…Mari-chan, how could you have discovered my great secret? I will whisk you away to my ocean kingdom, to live among the crabs and sea urchins."

"I wouldn't mind that," Mari said.

"We should go to the beach," Hino suggested. Mari turned to him with mild surprise. It was rare for Hino to propose a date, not without some prompting. "I'm free this weekend—the weather should be beautiful. We could have a picnic."

"Could we?" Mari said, excitement slipping into her voice. "Hino-kun, that would be—"

Hino's phone rang. Hino checked the caller ID and his carefree smile stiffened into a grim line.

"Sorry, Mari-chan, but I have to take this."

Hino left, leaving the half-eaten onigiri to rest with the rest of the uneaten bento Mari had brought for them to share. Mari watched Hino walk quickly towards the rooftop stairs, his right leg limping ever so slightly. Mari wondered if Hino had somehow pulled a muscle during practice, but doubted it. Hino knew better.

"Tears don't suit a face as pretty as yours, Mari-chan."

Mari blinked, looking up into the face of the one who offered her the handkerchief.

"Tsukimori-kun…"

"Shhh…" Ryosuke lifted a finger to his lips, his eyes playful. "You don't have to say anything. I saw what happened."

Mari looked away, certain that her face was scarlet.

"Oh, you know Hino-kun, he's always so busy…"

"Ah, I know," Ryosuke said, his easy smile fading. "There's nothing wrong with gokons, but even a free-spirited guy like me knows when that once you've found the right person, you have to take her seriously." His eyes focused on Mari's damp cheeks. "This isn't the first time, is it?"

Mari lowered her gazed, wondering if she feigned ignorance, the blonde playboy would lose interest.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Mari-chan~" Ryosuke punctuated his statement with a sing-song lilt. "But fine, we can play your little game—good thing I like games." He cocked his head. "Let's make things interesting, Mari-chan."

"Have you heard of Maison Cercueil, Mari-chan?" Ryosuke asked, folding his hands in thought. "Ah, so you have. How would you like to go there?"

"I heard that reservations were really hard to get—"

"Don't worry about that," Ryosuke said bracingly. He pushed a slip of paper towards her. "Show up at the big fountain in the park across from the restaurant on Saturday at noon. I promise that you won't be disappointed."

"Excuse me for saying this, but I'm not interested in you, Tsukimori-san," Mari said. "And I'm not going to betray Hino-kun."

Ryosuke laughed.

"Oh, I won't be going," he said. "I'm happy with the girls I meet through gokons…a cool guy like me can't stand to be tied down…but you misunderstood. I'm not asking you to betray Hino." Ryosuke leaned in so close that he was nearly touching Mari's nose. "I'm asking you to test him."

"Test him?"

"It's part of the game, this game of hearts," Ryosuke said, drawing back. "Consider it, at least. I have a feeling that when Hino-kun comes back from his phone call, he'll blow you off. Or make some kind of excuse. This way, you can enjoy yourself."

"But—"

"Don't think of it as a real date, Mari-chan," Ryosuke said. "Think of it as going out with a friend. You can do that even if you're dating someone."

"Hino-kun—"

"—has been neglecting you," Ryosuke cut in. "If he's not going to fight for you, then he doesn't deserve you."

"Why are you doing this?"

Ryosuke shrugged.

"There are a lot of things that annoy me," he said. "Up on that list is guys that make girls cry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Investigating, what else would I be doing?"

"Well, last time I checked, I called for Hino-kun, not you."

Nago frowned. Megumi was being more obstinate than usual.

"He's a high school student."

Megumi tossed the silk napkin down onto the table, slowly getting to her feet.

"You're still going on about that? It's not like we're actually dating, we're just going to pretend to because this restaurant only takes couples—"

"My point was that he has school right now," Nago said. "And you were just going to pull him straight out of there to satisfy your strange desires? You're despicable."

Megumi bit her lip, her cheeks dusted pink.

"What are you saying?" she sulked. "Don't you mean yourself?"

Nago jumped from his seat, his back ramrod straight. He towered over her.

"No, you're the despicable one."

"No, you are."

"No, you are."

"No, you are." Megumi pushed Nago with her hand. Not expecting the blow, Nago stumbled back, his elbow catching the glass pitcher, which fell from their table and shattered, splashing water over Nago's new shoes.

"Look at what you've done," Megumi said, poking him with her finger. "It's your fault."

Nago poked her back. "Pick it up."

"Why should I? I didn't do it."

"You dropped it."

"Because of you!"

"No, because of you."

"No, it was definitely all you."

"No, it was you."

"No, it was you."

Five minutes later, an irate Count Inukai had kicked them out of the restaurant, informing them that they were not to come back. To their mutual displeasure, they were stuck on reconnaissance duty and spent their lunch hour trailing after the happy and satisfied looking couples that trickled out of the restaurant. When they couldn't stand each other's company, they decided to split up, the first decision that they both agreed on.

"It's your fault, Nago," Megumi moaned out loud, wincing as she limped in her high heels. She'd been following a middle-aged couple from earlier. So far, nothing eventful had happened and Megumi despaired at the good food that she didn't get the chance to even taste. She leaned against the car, looking up at the clear sky.

Gods, I could use a coffee…

A scream. Megumi's hand shot into her purse for her gun. She whipped it out and aimed it at the Fangire, a bright blue one that vaguely resembled a prawn. A mutated prawn. Megumi simultaneously fired and ran to shield the woman. Her husband, to Megumi's regret, was already beyond help.

"That's enough, Fangire!" Megumi shouted, coolly pointing the gun at the snarling monster.

Where was Nago when you needed him?

"…Oda Nobunaga was actually well on his way to extending his rule to all of Japan when his conquest was cut off by one of his very own generals. Can anyone tell me who—yes, Ramon-kun?"

"Akechi Mitsuhide, of course," Ramon said, playing with his beret.

"Very good, Ramon-kun!" Kashiwagi beamed. "Do you have an interest for history?"

"Not really, Kashiwagi-sensei," Ramon said, pouting cutely. "It's just that I've seen it all."

"Is that so? You mean like a television series? One of those historical dramas?"

"No, I mean like I've actually seen it."

"Ramon-kun means that he's really impressed at how realistic the dramas are," Yuta hastened to explain. He gave the young Merman a meaningful look.

Ramon smiled brightly.

"Yup, that's what I meant."

Yuta tensed, his pencil slipping from his fingers as he heard the growing strength of his violin's song. Ramon met his gaze and gave him a tiny nod.

He raised his hand.

"Gomen, Kashiwagi-sensei. May I be excused to use the toilet?"

Kashiwagi nodded, looking a little uncertain.

"Ah sure, Yuta-kun, but make sure you don't take too long, okay?"

Yuta was out the door before Kashiwagi finished his sentence.

"Wow," Wataru observed, impressed at Yuta's speed. "He must really need to go."

"I hope he's okay," Mizusawa said.

"But he seemed perfectly fine just a minute ago," Kaneko observed.

Ramon chose that moment to break into tears.

Kashiwagi was at his side in an instant.

"What's wrong, Ramon-kun?" he asked, his voice trembling with concern. Kashiwagi patted Ramon, who was bawling his eyes out. "Are you experiencing a flashback? Any pain? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Ramon sniffled.

"Just—just a memory, Kashiwagi-sensei," he said. "Gomen, I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no Ramon-kun," Kashiwagi patted him on the head. "You've had a painful childhood. I understand. Cry as much as you need, if it'll make you feel better."

Kiyama scoffed under his breath.

Fighting, Yuta thought as he was stabbed in the chest with the Fangire's halberd, looks really easy in the movies but is actually really difficult to execute.

It wasn't exactly a very fair fight either. Sure the Kiva armor was helpful, but he was going up bare-handed against a crazy monster with a halberd.

Yuta grunted in pain as the Prawn Fangire shot him a spray of its crusty foam, which exploded on the armor upon contact.

"Get behind one of the cars!" Kivat urged from his belt.

Yuta obeyed, ducking behind a car. At the very least, he consoled himself, he had bought the two women enough time to escape.

"Use the blue colored fuestle," Kivat instructed. "You can't beat that guy without a weapon. We'll match blade for blade."

"This one?" Yuta asked, pulling out the blue dog-head shaped whistle.

"Ah, that's the one," Kivat confirmed. "You can call the Garulu Saber."

"Garulu?"

"Jiro's Wolfen name," Kivat said. "We're calling him."

"Eh, now? What if he's—what if he's busy?"

"Trust me, he's not," Kivat said. "He's most likely lounging around in the castle, playing cards or something." His fangs clamped down on the whistle, which glowed pale blue.

"Garulu Saber!"

A wolf's howl, triumphant and wild, filled Yuta's ears and his hand caught the Garulu Saber. The hilt adorned with a wolf's head, the blade wickedly long and sharp like the crescent moon, it was a truly beautiful weapon. Yuta immediately became aware of the newfound power that flowed from the sword's handle and up to the rest of his body. Catching his reflection in one of the car windows, he was surprised to find that his armored chest and visor had been dyed blue.

Be proud, boy. It is the color of my people.

Jiro? Yuta thought, trying to accept the fact that there was an unfamiliar voice inside of his head.

Don't freak out. My soul is in the Garulu Saber and through the Kiva armor, our minds are connected.

I'm hoping this isn't going to be permanent.

Of course not, though if you don't mind, I'm gonna take over and finish the shrimp guy off.

Yuta did not completely relinquish all control but he noticed an abrupt shift in the natural flow of their combined thoughts. The river of thoughts suddenly became more turbulent, the waters churning as the Wolfen's feral instincts dominated. It was an exhilarating and terrifying sensation. Yuta found himself snarling at the Fangire, baring his teeth beneath the mask as he clawed at the ground and danced around the Fangire, striking at it multiple times with lightning fast slashes. He could feel Jiro's crow of victory as the Prawn Fangire yelped in pain and stumbled back.

Now for the finishing blow, Jiro said with malicious pleasure.

Intuitively, Yuta commanded the churning waters of their thoughts to still. As the river calmed, Yuta could feel the balance of control shift towards him.

What are you doing?

Yuta turned to face the one who had caught his attention

Ah hell, it's the IXA user, Jiro groaned. What the hell he's doing here?

Yuta turned back to the Fangire, only to find that it had fled.

"Kiva!" Nago shouted and he charged.

Does he think he can beat us without transforming? Hey, Yuta, what are you doing?

Yuta blocked Nago with a kick and then taking a chance, allowed the Wolfen instincts to take hold of him long enough for him to leap and jump off from Nago's shoulders. Reigning in control, Yuta backflipped and landed on a nearby car.

Nice, was that some kind of gymnastics trick?

You can call it that.

Hey, hey. What are you doing? You can't just leave the fight like that!

Yes I can, Jiro-san, Yuta thought as he reached for the belt. I need to get back to class.

Jiro groaned.

Next Time: Chapter 12- Wataru's First "Date", A Day with a Sabbat, and the Mark of the Spider