Warning: See first chapter

Disclaimer: See first chapter

Reunion with an old weapon

The rain was stopping, but that did not change the fact that everyone was soaked. A hot bath was the only thing they wanted to have, but like the electricity, the water in the city was closed. So instead, people undressed in their homes by advice of the adults and packed themselves up in blankets after hanging up the soaked clothes. The warmth came back to their bodies fast, and people got on with their lives, despite two different groups planning for them to fight.

One of these groups, though, was bottled up with another concern. So at the moment they did not plan how to throw Voltaire and, most of all, Boris off their thrones. Ian sat on the couch, staring out of the dark window to the dark road, the rain still falling in buckets. Bryan, on the other hand, sat by his chessboard in the other room, his concern not visible on either face or body. But somehow... somewhere... his conscience felt bad.

The reason was simple. It had been two days, two whole days, where the rain had stopped briefly every once in a while. And in these two days, they had seen no sign of their redheaded captain. After he had left in them, after the fight, he had just... gone. And Bryan was afraid, somewhere, that he had caused his captain to do stupid things. He had mentioned the old Tala, and that person was one their house had always feared they would meet again.

Their concern had to wait for even longer than feared, as he did not show up that day. Bryan sat by the chessboard the whole night, the rain outside stopping about halfway through the night. But he spent it sleepless, hearing Ian's light snoring in the couch. None of them moved from their spots, except when the small one rose to find some food. He also set it in front of the emerald, even if he knew his friend had put himself too much in the game to flee from the world. He did eat, but that was without his eyes moving off the board.

The fourth day, though, he could sit there no longer. His angst brought him to rise from the floor, kick the board through the room so it broke in two and turn around to drive the BMW. Ian followed also then, having a feeling of responsibility, even though he was the younger of the two. When Bryan had been... different... he had been unable to take good care of himself, so the purple-haired boy was more or less used to this.

Bryan drove for three hours straight, the pedal push all the way down. Ian enjoyed it, his laughter helping on the bad killing-spree-mood Bryan suffered from. The emerald knew his companion had always loved cars, but being so young when they were in the abbey, he never learned to drive properly. But this exact kind of car was his absolute favorite, the car of the gods he had drooled over in magazines and dreamed of owning.

When they finally stopped the smaller had cooled his temper so much down that Bryan went into the house only smacking the first door behind him. The rest of the doors were simply let open. But Ian decided he did not want to ruin his good mood by being near the emerald, so he did something different. He stayed outside and cleaned the car, the bad treatment of Bryan obvious on the mud and dirt smudging the perfect, green, polished surface.

Inside the apartment, the emerald was looking for something to get his mind off the world and his beloved captain's absence, not caring that the rain started again and soaked his captain, and his finger felt over every back of the French books on the bookshelf he already had discarded in his mind. Not one of them interested him, so he took the first, the best book and opened it, without noticing the title saying; the collection of none-love poems.

On the first page was the words I have the words in my power, cause everything else slips – author's note. The writing was handwritten, and the gray eyebrows furrowed. He turned the first pages and looked at the title of the 'chapter'. Rain. Ironic, when you looked out of the window and saw the water pour down from the skies and soak the world once again. He felt he had not seen so much rain in so few days. On the first page head began reading:

A single drop of rain falls

Soon to be followed by hundreds

Soaking the trees, the leaves, the animals

The humans

Each drop so insignificant and unimportant

Making the colors go bland

The air goes cold

The sorrow grows

As the rain keeps kids from playing

Keeps the old from taking their walk

And the homeless freeze

In the rain, the darkness flows

It overthrows the sun's shine

Destroys the dreams

Darkens the shining jewelry

And make the human shadows, dead and living, grow

In the rain, all is equal

And no-one existing

The rich and the poor

It soaks all

The seeds of future, and relics of past

A single drop of rain falls

The first of the world's tears

Though the words were beautiful, the letters seemed dull to the gray-haired teenager. He was just about to close the book, but immediately in just thinking the thoughts, he felt himself get more upset and he turned the page to a much more interesting poem for him. The brilliant, green eyes slowly made their way to the bottom, as he slowed down his reading-speed to feel the effect of the poem a bit more:

Rain drops as tears from the sky
I hate rain
Not because of the cold or insignificance each drip have
But because of the symbol of tears
Empty fields of grass pollutes me
Hiding the truth in beauty and trash between straws
The trash is all over those fields
Like my outside, the inside is hidden by beauty
They claim I'm beautiful
Long since I've heard such nonsense
I'm a killer
A killer of both bodies and mind
I'm dead myself, though I never admit
And I died for no-one
Left to empty fields of grass

It was as though it was a continuance from the last poem, but he could not turn the page to see how the mood in the book got even more depressed. He heard the door open and close, but just thought it was Ian who came inside until he heard different, heavier and... more... Tala's footsteps. His eyes shot up and turned to the doorway, and there Tala stood, his dirty, white clothes soaked, his eyes slightly angry, and... a whip lying in his belt.

He leaned against the frame of the door, the blue eyes watching as his friend let the book fall to the floor in a good kind of surprise. And as he nearly ran over to the door, he did something he had never done before. Where he had pushed Tala away before, though not meaning to, he now took him and his smaller teammate into an embrace. "I'm so, so sorry, Tala," he whispered to them, though his apologize also was to the smallest of their group.

"'Miss Spence," Ian suddenly mumbled, and Bryan moved backwards at his words, not really wanting to be so close to anyone. Other than Hilary, because he had a very lot of fun toying with her. But this kind of hug was... different... because there were... feelings. He felt something for these people, so doing close things with them seemed stronger... And he was quite sure he did not like it.

"He died," Bryan said, and Ian just nodded at his words. Of course he was dead if he was not with them. Anything else would wrong. But the green eyes once again fell on the whip in the belt of the redhead's, and his gray eyebrow rose. At the sight of his friend, and the face his friend made, Tala frowned again, his eyes becoming... evil. No other word could describe what came into his eyes, but the emerald was lucky enough not to notice. "Why the whip?"

"I will follow your advice and teach them the use, but I will not answer questions of any kind," the redhead said firmly, the blue eyes narrowing slightly at his words. "Cause you are right in what you are saying. Fewer accidents happen when amateurs use whips instead of knives. Though I expect none of you wish to use the whip?"

"Good thinking, pal," Ian said, grinning, despite that the redhead was making him so very nervous. "But you have been away for so long... Are you hungry? … Of course we only have that disgusting can food, but it is better than nothing. What were you doing, anyway?" The only question interesting the emerald was the last, but he still moved out in the not-working kitchen to find him food. There was no electricity, so they had no chance of heating the food when it rained outside.

He still listened to the conversation as he opened a can with sausages. The good thing about can food is that you can use it for years. In the other room he heard Tala answer the questions the smaller had thrown at him: "No, I am not really hungry." That did not stop the emerald from getting a sad meal of the sausages and a bit of corns and peas from other cans. "I just had to make a whip, but since the weather did not let me make leather, I had to use bark."

"Oh, okay..." Bryan entered the room to see that Ian having sat down on the couch while Tala took off the soaked, dirty clothes in the middle of the floor. "Did not know you could use that material for... you know... That weapon," Ian continued, and the awkwardness began to grow. That weapon... That weapon the redhead he thrown over all of their backs, and they were lucky they had come out with their sanity more or less in check. Of course, Bryan was different.

"I have some food to you. I'm not taking no for an answer, Tala." Their captain had nothing else than his underwear on, but that did not take away any of their stubbornness. Neither the one nor the other.

"I said I wasn't hungry." Tala crossed his arms, not caring that this kind of fighting over food merely was childish stubbornness. But they had never been children, so he felt he had the right to be like this when he wanted to.

"I heard no such thing." Bryan took the plate forward, the disgusting meal coming closer to the stomach supposed to eat it.

"Then listen harder." The redhead took a step backwards, as if the distance between him and the plate mattered for their argument. He nearly tripped over a chair in the process.

"I only hear what..." But they did not hear what he only heard. Not even done with the sentence, a girly scream was heard. All eyes turned to the doorway, where Xiu stood with her hands covering her eyes, while Hilary just stared wide-eyed at the redhead in his underpants. Tala just began grinning, Ian soon coming along, while Bryan just watched the two girls with interest, not really understanding what was so bad that Xiu had to scream over it.

The redhead just enjoyed it, getting a great laugh to ruin the half-bad mood there had been in the house ever since he had disappeared. "Seeing anything you like?" he asked and Xiu whimpered and blushed even more than before, her hands looking as though they tried to push her eyes out on the other side of her head. But Tala decided to be nice to them, and as Hilary fought her eyes away, he found a blanket to wrap around himself. "Now you can look."

His voice was soft and nice. So soft that Ian narrowed his eyes as he watched and he noticed the smallest blush on his captain's face as the redhead sat down beside the smaller member of his team. Then, the crimson eyes of the youngest in the room turned from his captain to Xiu just as Bryan forced the plate with sausages on the redhead. The too-innocent-for-Ian's-taste Chinese girl slowly took the hands away from her eyes. "I am sorry, Tala," she mumbled.

"No need." The redhead... smiled… in a special way. "I am the one who should say sorry. First, I fly away without even notifying you, then when I come home I run off without even saying hello..." His voice and face got sad... and it looked like he even meant it... "I hope you will forgive me for my bad deeds."

"Of course I can," Xiu mumbled, her eyes on the ground as she still blushed in a deep red color. They did not touch each other... They did not have to as they spoke. And all the while, Hilary moved over to the emerald to have her arm around him. And Ian watched as no words were spoken between those two, but a kiss on her cheek and the arm around his waist was all that really was between them. Xiu and Tala continued to speak, at least one meters distance between them. And Ian saw a difference of the pairs.

He watched, and watched for long, before he finally found out what it was. Why they were different. It was in their faces. Hillary's was light and bound to her partner, her eyes shining with happiness as she watched her partner. But Bryan's was indifferent, a small smile on his face and nothing in his eyes. Xiu was constantly blushing, and her eyes did not seem to be able to stay still at any time. And Tala...

His face was indifferent. No smile, no twitching nose, little blinking, only movement on his lips when he spoke and in his hair when he turned his head. And his eyes were dark and suffering, as they always were when he forgot to show an expression that made him seem cheerful, playful, and happy. But his words were softer that the colored crown of the rose, his voice silky as if he was using it to wrap around a weak, hurt bird like a blanket.

And every time his eyes touched the pale skin of her face or the dirty fabric of her clothes, the darkness vanished, and left was a light so bright it erased all the scars from his past and all fear of the present things that still suffered from past deeds. A newborn star found its way into his eyes when they touched her. As though she, by just being near him, could make all the wrongs right and restore his broken, torn, tormented and impure soul into what it was supposed to.

It took time for the small to understand what it was. As he watched their faces. But then, after an hour of talking and no physical interaction from the redhead and Chinese, and no talking and only physical interaction from the emerald and brunette, he understood. Hilary was obsessed, Bryan not caring. Xiu insecure of herself and her feelings, but sure of the one thing that meant something. She loved her redhead, but was not ready to say the words. And for the first time in his free life, Tala had found one he was ready to give his all to.

Life had never seemed to have been harder. Even coming up from bed every morning was a challenge he nearly could not bear face. And now that his body was slowly getting the strength back, the challenge became more and more a psychological problem than a physical restraint. Now that most of the body he had known was back, he had nothing to live for. Before, it was the fight to get back his strength that became the goal of getting out of bed.

Now he had nothing to work for.

The metal-arm still was a problem. It reacted more to his anger than to his brain, and ever since he had woken up, he had had problems with his temper. And since he had just been lying in a coma for months and practically slept, he could see absolutely no reason for the anger. Yet every time he met a human being, especially his grandfather and Boris, his mind began boiling. If he had been antisocial before, it was nothing compared to his feelings now.

This particular morning Kai stared up at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that he had a reason to go down to the kitchen and find his breakfast. Using the robot-hand as little as possible to strengthen what he considered his actual body, he forced himself to sit up, instinctively knowing he had to live on no matter what.

He took the metal-hand up to his face and let it go through his hair, taking the chance to see how much damage it was doing on himself. Nothing. Mostly, when he was alone, he was able to control it even better than a normal arm. But it reacted when his emotions got heated, and his emotions got heated when he was with people. They did not see his control. They did not see how well he was doing. They only saw what they thought was a stable teen who had gotten unstable after he miraculously woke up from his five months of coma.

He felt no lust to go down and live, but his body moved on its own to keep him alive. He ended in the kitchen where he had been working so much time ago, not seeming to notice the many people working as he went in to the pantry and found what interested him. But on his way out, he bumped in to one of the drawers, and something fell out of his pocket. Something he had forgotten. Something that sent him back to the time before the problems.

It was his black beyblade. He had totally forgotten it ever being there, too caught up in his own misery and own problems. It seemed surreal that he had forgotten such a big part of his life, something that he remembered always to have been his everything. To him it was as if the world was going in slow-motion. As if the time stood still as he squatted down and used the metal-arm to pick up the small object.

Want help, little weakling?

He nearly crushed the blade at the sound of the voice, the robot reacting to the shock in his brain. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the voice. He could not decide the gender, as if it was two people's voice. The hand that did not hold the blade was lifted up to scratch his good, itching eye without himself noticing. As he opened the bad eye, he jumped backwards in surprise. Despite the light in the pantry, he had seen nothing but blackness.

Though still only using the bad eye, he could see when he got back into the kitchen and was lying on the floor with everyone staring at him. His good arm was still covering the good eye, but the kitchen was merely slightly blurred and a little darker than it should be. He did not really know why he was sitting on the floor, but he had dropped the blade in the process of getting there. So the slate pushed the surprise of total blindness away for one thing.

A light began burning in his eyes, a light of stubbornness and lust. And even though it was towards the black blade of pain that had caused nothing but trouble for all, it was not the thought of Black Dranzer that gave him back his life. It was the spinning top, the thought of the beyblade, and it could have been a blade with or even without a bitbeast that could give him that light. He got back to his feet and took up the blade again.

And there, he made a vow to himself. As he stood with that thing in his hand, he decided he would blade again. And it would not be for his Grandfather. It would not be for Boris. Nor his friends that he had betrayed once again. For the first time, he would play totally for himself...

You always played for yourself.

He knew the voice, but not where from. He felt a presence near his consciousness, poking at him. For the first few moments, Kai feared he was beginning to hear voices. But since there was no obvious evidence that it was his sanity that suffered, the slate meant it had to be something different. Also the fact the he felt something alien seeming to try and come into his mind, he felt even surer that it was not him, who was wrong.

"Ah-I..." At the speed of light, his mouth shut again, his inability to talk once again stopping him. Instead, he took the conclusion that since the thing spoke to him in his mind; he could speak back that way. I never played for myself, he declared, and received a snicker from the voice. With a small sigh, he leaned against the wall of the kitchen, feeling the beginning of an argument that seemed ridiculous when your opponent seemed not to have a face.

Oh, no, that is just what you think. I agree, Voltaire and Boris pulled you in to it, but not soon after, you began to like this little plastic-thing, and you did not only fight for perfection for Voltaire. No, you have always been an egoist.

Have not. Kai felt the anger in him, and the metal-hand flew into the shelves standing beside him. It was only by luck that the beyblade in the hand did not break from the pressure. But the voice continued speaking to him.

If that is the truth you want to believe, so be it. But that is not what I wished to speak with you about. I want to make a deal... I do not know how much you know of me, but my way of working with people is by going in to their minds. It never has been a problem, controlling them, using them for myself, but you...

The first time I felt your hand on me, I did not feel you different. You had the same amount of self-respect and self mastery as an adult, despite your young age, but I had no problem controlling you. And it ended up with you destroying most of the Abbey. But the next time I felt you, I felt something strange. I did not overtake you... You agreed to be overtaken. You did not fear me or my power, but wanted me, and as I used you to make my power greater, you had fun with me. But as soon as your little friends came, you decided to push me away... and was strong enough to.

The violet eyes settled on the blade in his hand. So this voice was... It was so obvious that it was, but bitbeasts did not speak to their masters... At least she did not. Or had never done, at least. You are as sick as I imagined, he said, his mind still trying to understand that he was talking to a bitbeast, and that even none other than Black Dranzer.

No. I just live the way my first and true master taught, instead of those annoying morons like Boris that have haunted me for the last ninety years. You have a lot of the same characteristics as my master, but you are not nearly as great as he was. Sadly, he was a human, and unlike me, he could not defy the laws of nature. But this was not my intention, and I will go back to where I was.

You interest me. You are the only human I have met which can push me out. But that also means I need your permission to go in to your mind. I have many, many offers, and I already have given you one. If I had not told you what my False Father and his surprisingly pure, white victim told you when you visited them, you would never had opened your eyes. Now, there still is so much more I can give you.

There are memories that they have sealed away from you, abilities you have lost, I would even help you find my False Mother, if you agree to let me in. I want in to your head; I want to be able to use your body. I want to live, and with you as my current keeper, I cannot do that. So, I offer my help for your mind. You nearly open yourself when you beyblade, and I feel how you want me, wish me, unlike anyone else, but I need your permission.

Too much information. It seemed the evil bitbeast he had in his metal-claws was very talkative, but if that was the case, he could not understand why it had kept quiet for so long. But it was a good trick, since the many words managed to confuse him. But instead of deciding on the important matter of giving in to the bitbeast, he concentrated on the question he wanted answered first. How come you never spoke with me before?

It was impossible. For so long, I have wanted to ask you the question of making a deal with me, but it requires a bond. And we did not have one before I stayed by your side throughout the months of coma, where I helped you out. The phoenix can speak with you, too, but she follows the rules. And the rules are a vow of silence towards your carrier, or you are said to be an evil bitbeast. Or the higher powers believe we can manipulate the human mind with words.

The slate just nodded. It did not fit into his mindset, but he had the feeling he already knew some information that fit with this piece made him sure that the bitbeast told him the truth. And through that, despite the words have been said should have made him more cautious, he decided to follow the path the black bitbeast offered. I want Dranzer back, and I want my memories back. How do I do this? he asked, not sharing his last thought with the bitbeast.

The thought where he promised to throw out the black blade as soon as he had his own bitbeast back.

It is simple. Find a beystadium and open up. Fire me, and let me spin. You use me, so I can use you. Then, I will show you what happened to you in the past, and eventually guide you to your little, red bird that you love so much. If I am satisfied with you, I may even go in to your mind and give you back your voice. But only if you deserve it.

Once again, the slate nodded. With a lazy movement he moved out of the kitchen, ignoring the many people staring at him. He had a beystadium in his own room and that was good enough for him if he would just have to spin the blade. It did not take long before the half-broken teen was back in the room, getting ready for blading.

He stood as he normally did, placed the blade in the launcher and got ready. Counting in his head, he ripped the cord out of the launcher... and the blade dropped dead on the floor. He stared. He could not be sure, but he would guess that not even in his youngest age, he had been that bad. Then the violet eyes sought down to the metal-hand, in where the launcher was, and his eyes widened in realization and shock.

There were cracks in the launcher. It was only by luck it had not gotten totally destroyed by the force the metal-hand had put upon it, but it was unusable. He could not even spin a blade. The false arm, which had had exactly the purpose of making him still able to blade, could not handle Kai's excitement. It ended up using too much power.

Kai stared down at the arm for whole ten minutes, trying to comprehend the new challenge he was facing. He had to begin blading again, it was his life... He had to.

He had to do it.

In anger, the metal-hand crushed the launcher, and he threw the small bits at the walls with an angry scream. Then, he stomped over to the drawers in the corner of the room, took one out and pulled up a new launcher. Standing ready again, he fired the blade once more, but with even worse effect than the first time. But he did not stop for that reason. He was going to blade again, no matter what anyone was going to say, think or do.

No matter what, he would succeed in everything he decided to do.

The rain finally stopped, and now they just prayed for it to stay away. The whole group had been collected to stand outside, Tala having announced he had something to share. This was one of the other times where he had gotten a fever, his trip in the wild in the heavy rain not having been good for his health. Still, he was standing, his tall, slender figure looking proudly at the many people in his front. As always when he called for a meeting, it began in silence.

But he knew the silence would not last already when he had been making his own whip in the forest. It was there he had decided he would call them together, to teach them his darkest ability. For his ability with the whip was even darker than his ability to kill without thinking twice. But he pushed the thoughts and his own fear for the weapon away, for the cause of the greater good. This was the only way to push Voltaire, and especially Boris, off the throne.

And if he was lucky, he would be able to kill the two with his own, bare hand. Or, just to make it sweetly ironic, a flick of his whip. It would be no problem killing like that. Not when it was them...

Once again, he had to push his thoughts away, and with the whip in his hand, the blue eyes turned to the ones standing by the border of the group in front of him. Ian and Bryan stood leaning against the walls of buildings, both looking like they were bored, but he sensed the tenseness. Another thing he pushed away, since it was something that hurt, and finally, he began speaking, his voice as always unquestionable and scarily convincing.

"Finally, we are together! Finally, I have everything I need! Finally, my young friend, Ian, is by my side, and finally, I am ready to go to war. I know most of you have come to believe we are safe and that you do not have to worry about anything! I agree with the last. You do not have to worry. Not for the first long time. But you are not safe.

The only reason we can know we are safe and become safe is if the shadow standing over us is removed. I am, of course, talking about Voltaire and Boris, for they will find us, and it will be soon!

Despite my own personal grudges and bad memories of those two, and especially Boris for my part, I know I am not alone with my feelings. And you know why? Because I was locked up alongside most of these people that I am looking upon now! And though I did not feel the pain they put on the rest of you, my neko-jin friends, I know you have lost many comrades, and that many comrades suffer in the hands of Boris!"

Sadness was put upon the faces of the listeners, the truth hurting just as much now as when the events happened. All eyes were set upon the redhead now, the spell of his words having caught them all, and his lifted his arms into the air and closed his eyes. "I know many of you are ready to stay here." The soft words were nothing but whispers, caught by the wind and carried to the ears of his followers. "I know you fear the fight, and that your feeling of safety makes it even harder for you to want to get out and look for the tormentors.

But I know if none want to come with me, I will go alone, hunt them down, and stop them. Of course, for myself. For my pride, for my life, for my own personal reasons and for my living friends. But even more important for me than myself... I will do it for Spencer, who did not survive long enough to see the pain Boris once again set into our lives.

So I ask for you, if you can fight only for yourself, you are welcome! But if you doubt or fear, if something halts you, think of the ones you lost! If you were blessed with parents, fight for them! Fight for your brothers! Sisters! Friends! Anyone worth it! Show them that you loved them, and love them still! And show them that you are ready to even die in their memory!

Are you ready to follow me?!"

His arms fell, and when they did, the crowd even cheered for him. Even the neko-jin adults were moved, despite most of them not being very fond of the superior-hating redhead. He spoke with emotion and made everyone feel like they were his equal. And when he saw these equals cheer him on, he grinned, a true smile settled on his face. "That was more cheers than I could even dream of; when you consider the so nice conditions we have here, eh?"

Sticking out his tongue, he turned around and looked at the setup behind him, a wood-figure that was shaped to look like a man. The voices of the people behind him stopped, and he took the whip out of his belt and caressed it out of old habit. "You should all have mastered the gun at this point. That means you have can use a long-range-weapon, but do not have any abilities to stop a man when he has gotten too close. Short-range. And as my friend Bryan was kind enough to remind me, a lot of accidents tends to happen when amateurs carries knives.

For that reason, I will offer you the guidance to learn a different weapon, which when mastered are far more effective than a knife. I will show you what a whip can do, and you will have to be ready to kill if you go to the fight. That is a weakness of the whip. It is not supposed to kill." He had moved to the side, so he stood about ten feet from the wood-figure. But with a flick of his hand, the cord flew through the air and was wrapped around the neck of the false man, and it tightened dangerously hard around it. People gasped in surprise of his action.

"Of course, it is more than able to do so in the wrong hands." Another movement of his hand, and it loosened again, another again, and it flew around the wooden man's legs. "It works better to immobilize your enemy, and it can be done fast from this point." Staring with awe, the watchers saw how one of the legs broke off when he tightened the cord. "I won't force you to learn, but it often happens that a person not totally comfortable with a knife ending up killing their own friends by mistake.

The knife is used far more to killing off than to stop the enemy, and is not keeping the enemy away as effectively as a whip would. A whip's range is bigger, but can become smaller in seconds if you do not see your enemy before it seems too late." He showed this by suddenly jump closer to the still-standing wood-figure and taking the end of the cord. It hit the wood-figure's ribcage and soared over it. "You will have the chance to learn both the whip and the knife. Bryan takes care of the ones wanting to learn the knife. And the neko's can decide for themselves. I have seen many swords in your ranks."

Without another word, he turned around and went for his two companions, and together, they went to their apartment in silence. But as soon they got inside, the redhead collapsed on the couch and buried his face in his hands. "I feel like an idiot. It was going so well, but then I showed them that god damned whip, and now I have probably scared them all off. They probably think badly of my because of that thing!" He took his head up again and threw the whip away from his belt.

"Stay calm, Tala, it went well," Ian promised and sat down beside his friend while Bryan was taking his chessboard and chess pieces in to the room so he could be with them without being bored. The emerald acted as if his captain was not being extremely depressed at the moment, but Ian was with him, so Bryan felt he was not needed.

"Am calm," the redhead sneered, making the smaller winch. An old habit that he and Spencer had had, whenever Tala raised his voice in such a matter. And the redhead knew this, which meant that when he forced the calmness he claimed in to his mind and made one of his false smiles. "I am sorry, Ian. I just felt I did something wrong and ruined our chances. No matter what, I will move back towards the castle and kill Boris, but if we have them with us..."

"I know that, but it is not that bad. You always say the right thing in these situations. I am sure it is just because you are so... uncomfortable with the weapon that you used, so you feel you lost control over the situation." Neither of his friends told the redhead how every slash of that whip had forced shivers down their spines. Even Bryan had felt it, and it had brought the memories of his first time in the Abbey back into his mind.

The redhead sighed and nodded to his friend's words. "I hope so." Still, the redhead was smiling, and the smaller one did not see that it was forced upon his face. "Bryan." The gray-haired looked up with surprise when Tala spoke with him. "Before you begin, may I join in a game?" A small tugging was in the corners of the emerald's lips, and this made the smile of the redhead's face true and a smirk grew on the smaller one's.

Avoiding their eyes because he did not really want to smile at them or see them smile, the emerald nodded too. "Sure, just sit down." He was sitting on the floor, as always, as if he had never heard of tables or such weird things. The wolf already knew he would never win. Of the three in the room, he was the one with the lowest IQ, but the only one of them who was actually able to act normally around people for a longer amount of time.

Even though he knew he could never win, the fight was long, and all three of them did not notice they had gotten company before Bryan finally took the last piece to kill off the king. When he looked up, the emerald noticed the figure in the door-frame and stood, anger pulsating in every one of his movements.

Tala turned his head and understood why Bryan immediately reacted with anger – it was the same adult neko that had argued with them when the wolf had left for Ian and come back with him. Using his hand to tell the emerald to try and stay calm, Tala raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here and for how long have you been?"

The neko slowly moved in to the room, keeping an eye on the emerald like a cat keeps an eye on a big, threatening, nasty dog. Though having seen Tala's silent command, Bryan did not look like he was going to back down, and he stared unblinkingly at the man, looking ready to kill. "I have been watching for most of the game. It was actually quite exciting, so I did not want to stop you. You all are smarter than I thought." Bryan snorted. "Guess you cannot judge the dog on the fur." Another snort. "I came to say sorry." New snort.

The redhead tried to hide his amusement at the sound of his teammate, not having expected anything else, but made a mask of seriousness and contempt towards the man. "Say sorry? For what?" The blue eyes were icy, despite the fact that he had a lot of fun at the moment. He felt nothing bad for the man as long as he went the right way, and he had never gotten the man's name. Bryan, on the other hand, had consciously blocked the name out of his mind.

"For treating you as kids." New snort, which caused Ian to snicker. "You are all so young. You are not supposed to know such abilities with the whip, or speak such of killing. But when you spoke to us, I think... I finally realized that you are not normal delinquents. You have felt a lot of pain, just as the rest of us, but I noted something... That it goes deeper for you. That the pain has been there for longer..."

"Your point?" Tala snapped.

"My point is that I want to say sorry. You are a good leader, Tala, and you all are more soldiers than most of my own people. I know the ways of the sword and a little of the gun, but not... like this. I would not want to meet you in battle or be your enemy. But I thought less of you. I dishonored you all." He bowed. Not only his head, but the body too, and he stopped having his cat-like eyes on the biggest threat in the room.

This threat was just about to use the opportunity, as always not caring the least what the people around him thought of him. But Tala stood before he could do anymore and shook his head at the emerald. Then, he took the steps needed to reach the man and crossed his arms. "I do not like adults," he said, and the man lifted his head, surprised at the weird look in the wolf's eyes. "They always think they are smarter because of their age and life. But I have only experienced one adult admit his faults, and now I found another one. And that is a man I wish to forgive."

The smallest smile showed on the man's face. "I am glad." The man was even more surprised when the redhead took his hand on the neko's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Behind them, Bryan snorted again and wanted to leave the room as fast as possible. But he did not trust that man with his captain or his young friend.

"Of course, I cannot speak for my friends." Bryan's distrust was still amusing for his two friends, and Tala turned around and sat down in front of the chessboard on the floor once again. The emerald sat down too, but let Ian have his fun against their captain. But the neko was not done yet, though he still stood near the door.

"I have some questions for you," he said, and they all looked up again. "First is... how can you use a whip like that. I have never seen anyone use a weapon with such precision and ability, and that is even with a weapon I normally consider harmless and uncontrollable."

"Instead of treating me like every other child in the place we grew up, Boris gave me a whip in my hand. Normally, a man would have been whipping me, just to show me how unfair life was, and there even was a guard ready. But Boris did not command him to whip me. No, he did the opposite. He told me, that I had a choice. Either I whipped the man and he would help me. Or I would be set free, and live." Tala's eyes became distant. "I was four."

The man stood, staring for what seemed too long, before he shook his head. "I am sorry." He did not doubt that it was the truth. It was in the face of that serious teen, both now that he told about it and a small amount of pain was on his face, and by the way he was acting to people when he did not think his actions through.

"You shouldn't be." It was Ian speaking, but he only said the words Tala had just been about to. "You had nothing to do with it, so you should not say sorry. But all our abilities come from experiences much like the one he describes... Yet everything is different from person to person. We went through each of our own different programs." At his last words, his crimson eyes set upon Bryan, who wasn't looking or focusing on anything in particular.

The man shivered and turned to leave. But Tala did not let him go that easily. "The past is pain. Be careful when you speak of it to others." The man just nodded over his shoulder and moved as quickly he could without losing his pride. But when he was out of sight, Ian turned his head to look at the redhead and smiled widely.

"I told you that you did the right thing. He was impressed more than scared... until he got the story, that is. But most people probably feel like that, and you are a trustworthy person. They are all ready to fight by your side, my friend."

Tala just sighed as they began their game as if nothing had happened. "Yeah, seems you are right."

Enjoy in joy and take care~