Never Gone R
By: Jecir
Chapter Twenty-One: A Tiger's Choice
The Prince's Secret was crowded. It was always crowded. Every restaurant that bore the honor of being owned and operated by Chef Hatake Jin was going to be busy no matter what night it was. Tonight, the line for a table was out the door. Waiters and waitresses moved through the room with the ease of familiarity. They danced from table to table; taking orders, filling drinks, and delivering food; flowing in time with the music of conversation and clinking glasses.
The kitchen was another story. Where the dining room was a symphony, the kitchen was a rock concert. Pans clanged, plates clattered, fires roared, and food sang with that sweet sizzle of cooking. The head chef barked orders at his staff. The expediter stood as gatekeeper between the kitchen and the servers, placing hot plates on trays and sending them to the correct tables. Choruses of "Behind!" and "Corner" and "Coming in hot!" rose over the ceaseless clatter, creating a cacophony of sound appreciated only by the passionate.
It was a thing to behold, and Chef Unagi Neji presided over it all. He was Chef Hatake's second, looking after the empire while the old coot travelled the world to discover new flavors to bring back. He and Hatake-san had known each other their whole lives; there was no one Unagi-sensai trusted more. He was honored to be trusted with the day-to-day of the restaurants. Recently, however, the day-to-days had been a little strange. Unagi looked down at his watch. "3...2...1..."
The door to the kitchen opened. A server with wild black hair and an air of frustration came in with a plate of food. "Oiy, Kyouya-san!"
Unagi looked across the kitchen to Hatake Jin's protégé. To the outside eye, Hatake Kyouya looked unfazed by the rude tone directed at him. Unagi was not one of the outside eyes; he saw the tell-tale signs of agitation in his godson's posture. Kyouya had suspected the same as Unagi; that this was going to happen.
The server dropped the plate of untouched food on the expediter line and sneered, "That asshole at table 12 says that he is not eating this crap unless you personally deliver it to him."
"Chefs don't leave the kitchen," Kyouya quoted smoothly. "Tell him he can go hungry."
The server grinned at the barb, but it was not enough to dispel his irritation. As far as he was concerned, the stubborn grandson of the owner was causing him a tip. He had no idea what was really going on; Unagi had a suspicion, though. Before an argument could erupt between the irate server and the cold cook, Unagi stepped in and said, "What seems to be the problem?"
"Unagi-sensai," the server greeted. "Table 12 has sent back the foie gras three times. He's doing it on purpose. He won't even touch it! I set it down, he turns his nose up, says it's not right, it's too cold, it's too salty—"
"It's not too salty!" Kyouya snapped.
"—and sends it back," the server continued. Shooting a glare at Kyouya's back, the server said loudly, "That jerk wouldn't be doing it if Kyouya would just go to the table!" To Unagi-sensai, he said, "Sheesh, I've met my share of crazy customers, but this is ridiculous."
Unagi waved the server away. He rearranged the foie gras on the plate. It was still hot; the texture was perfect; and the presentation was salvageable. He wiped some excess sauce from the plate's edge and took it back into the dining room. He stopped just short of the main floor and looked around. Table 12 was along the left wall, three tables from the front entrance. Sitting there were two people Unagi-sensai was getting very used to seeing. Straightening his shoulders, he walked over to the group. "Good evening, Unami-sensai, it is a pleasure to see you again."
Unami Seiya, an inordinately rich university professor, nodded to the old chef. "Unagi-sensai," he said.
Unagi placed the plate in front of Unami-sensai and stepped back. "This is the fifth time we have had this conversation."
"Is it?" Unami-sensai asked sardonically. "I must be absent minded."
"Professors often are," said the young blond man who accompanied Unami-sensai most nights. Unagi had not gotten his name. The blond was enjoying himself. He had ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and was attacking it with gusto. He looked at Unami-sensai's plate expectantly. "Are you going to eat that?"
"No," Unami-sensai said, determined not to be swayed.
The blond teen grabbed the plate and added it to his own.
"You really should try it," Unami-sensai said. "It is quite good."
"Oh God, yes," the blond said, having taken a large bite of the foie gras and was savoring it. "This is bloody brilliant!"
"I'm not eating unless Kyouya comes out here."
Unami-sensai frowned. "Kyouya has made his point clear," the elder chef said. "Chefs do not leave the kitchen. I suggest you take up whatever issues you have with him off the clock."
"I would if he would answer his phone," Unami-sensai said. The stubborn mask slipped away as Unami-sensai turned to face Unagi. "Please, I really need to talk to him. It's important."
"If you tell me what's so important, I will see what I can do," Unagi offered. It was the same offer he made each time, and, each time, the young teacher would wilt and sit back.
"We can't tell you," the young blond said, swallowing a mouthful of food. "It's a secret."
"So you've said," Unagi-sensai said. "Since your visit was unsatisfactory, we will, of course, cover your dinner. Have a good night." Unagi-sensai bowed to the table and turned to leave.
Before he was two steps away, Unami-sensai called after him. "What was that?" Unagi questioned.
Unami-sensai had resumed his position of facing his dining companion while drumming his fingers against the table. "Would you please give him a message?"
"Of course," Unagi-sensai said.
"Tell him the girls got turned into wax because the Princess felt like going to a Princess Academy; Jadeite still won't come out of the sacred fire room; and I will see him tomorrow," Unami-sensai finished.
"Kyouya will not be here tomorrow—"
"Yes, yes, he'll be at the Dragon's Keep tomorrow," Unami-sensai finished.
"And the Phoenix's Dive the night after that!" exclaimed the blond. "We've already got reservations. Oh, I am so excited about that one!"
Unagi-sensai nodded. "I'll give him the message." He bowed once more to the duo and walked away. He paused to speak to the front of house manager, informing him that table 12 would be on the house, and then returned to the kitchen.
Kyouya glanced at him as he entered but turned back to his station when Unagi met his gaze. Unagi's frown deepened. He walked through the kitchen to the back office. Once there, he shut the door behind him before he spoke. "They were here again," he said.
"That's five nights in a row," Hatake Jin mused as he spun around in his chair to face his oldest friend. The two looked like weather-beaten pirated, what with their leathery spin, hardened faces, and stubble. "What was the message tonight?"
"The girls got turned into wax because of some Princess Academy, and Jadeite is still not coming out," Unagi said.
Jin hummed in thought. He stood and began to pace behind his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. "The princess is a soldier," he said. "The Dark Kingdom knows about the crystal. The girls got turned to wax. Jadeite won't come out of his room. You are a stubborn jackass, coward, and bastard." Jin shook his head at the last one. "Did I forget anything?"
"The Silver Death misses him."
"Oh right," Jin nodded. "That one was my favorite."
"Have you spoken to Kyouya?" Unagi asked.
"No," Jin said. He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. "My grandson assumes himself a private man, all his secret locked away. I'd rather not betray that trust."
"Yeah, but they're not going to stop," Unagi said. "They said as much to me tonight. Whatever it is Kyouya has gotten himself mixed up in, they will not leave him alone. Do you want me to make some calls?"
Jin shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. A professor and a foreigner; hardly a real threat."
"What about the Dark Kingdom?" Unagi asked. "They sound threatening."
"They sound more like an RPG that has gotten out of hand," Jin said; though, he and his dear friend both had their doubts about that conclusion. Jin stood back up and waved his friend out. "Whatever these two are about, they are correct in one thing: my grandson is stubborn. I cannot pry out of him what he will not share. Return to the kitchen, keep everything in order. I will deal with my grandson soon enough."
"Hai." Unagi walked out of the office.
Once alone, Jin leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. "Kyouya, my boy, what have you gotten yourself into now?"
Later that night, when the restaurant was locked up and the last of the staff was leaving, Kyouya stood in the alleyway out the back. He was leaning against the wall looking up into the night sky. It was nearly impossible to see the stars here. There was too much light pollution. It had been one of his favorite things about his European tour. He and his grandfather had stayed in small towns out in the Italian countryside. Out there, he could see the stars for miles. Not here. Here, there was only blackness blanketing the heavens with no light to offer hope.
It was much like his heart.
Kyouya groaned and slammed his fist against the wall, refusing to go there. He would not think about it; he would not!
The kitchen door banged open. The two closing servers came out, laughing and joking and not noticing the young cook.
"Can you believe table 12 tonight?" one of them said. "What an ass!"
"I know, right?" the other said. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag before saying, "Over indulged little shit. I heard he's been making a tour of the circuit; visiting all the restaurants and demanding the same thing. He won't eat unless the great Hatake Kyouya servers him personally."
"No way?" the first server questioned. "Wow, that's some hard core elite crap!"
"Yeah, and it's costing the boss tons! Those two get their meal free every night all because his spoiled little grandson won't go visit the table."
"Too good to get his hands dirty, entitled f—"
"What was that?"
The two servers froze at the reprimanding tone. They turned, faces paling, to bow to their boss. "Nothing, Hatake-sensai," the one who had been running his mouth said.
Jin stepped out into the alley. "No, no, go ahead. What were you saying about my grandson, here, in the dark, five steps away from him?" Jin jerked his thumb back behind him, indicating where Kyouya was still standing in the shadows.
The two servers' faces could not get any paler. They both bowed and expressed their deepest apologies before running like mad back into the restaurant. The door slammed behind them, leaving grandson and grandfather alone in the alley.
Jin walked over to his grandson and leaned back against the wall next to him, his hands—scarred and old but still capable of creating masterpieces—shoved into his pockets. "You ok?" he asked.
"Fine," Kyouya grunted. "They're idiots anyway."
"Not talking about those two," Jin said.
Kyouya stiffened, knowing what was coming but not wanting to face it, not yet.
Jin looked up at the black sky. "Not a lot escapes me in my restaurants," he said. "A returning troublesome guest is something I take note of; a troublesome customer that comes to each of my restaurants making the same request is something that concerns me."
Kyouya looked away but refused to answer.
Jin reached into his pocket. "Here," he said, handing Kyouya a sheet of paper. When his grandson didn't immediately take it, he tapped the paper against the teen's head to get his attention. Kyouya snatched the paper with an irritated frown. "They've been leaving some rather interesting messages," Jin said.
Kyouya read over the contents. It was updates on the war written in his grandfather's familiar messy scrawl.
"Princess, Dark Kingdom, Crystal; it's all pretty outlandish stuff," Jin said. "Almost unbelievable."
"Then why are you paying attention to it?" Kyouya asked. He crumbled the paper and threw it away with a disgusted scowl.
"Why indeed?" Jin mused. "Most grandpas would dismiss this nonsense as teenage folly, but, then again." The old cook pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Kyouya. On the screen was a picture that caused Kyouya's heart to stop. "Most grandpas don't see their grandson's lucky hoodie burnt to cinders and covered in blood."
Kyouya looked away from the photo, his mind racing, looking for a way to explain it all away.
Jin pocketed his phone. "You don't have to tell me what's going on."
"Good," Kyouya said, pushing off of the wall. "Because I'm not."
"But," Jin said as his grandson walked off. "If this has to do with Mamoru-kun's disappearance..."
Kyouya froze.
Jin stood up straight and faced his grandson's retreating back. "You were never one to run from a fight, Kyouya; I'd hate to see you start now."
Kyouya clenched his fist. "It's none of your business!" he growled and, without looking back, Kyouya ran off into the Tokyo night.
Kyouya ran as fast as he could. He ran past the late night Tokyo crowds, through traffic, and down side streets. He vaulted fences, scaled fire escapes, and jumped across rooftops. He did not stop. He could not stop. If he stopped, everything that had been chasing him these last few weeks would catch up to him.
He did not want to face it. He did not want look into the black expanse and see the truth. He refused to be cowed. He was Hatake Kyouya; he was strong! He would not be beaten! He jumped onto the next rooftop, then down to the lower level, and finally, back onto the streets where he continued to run.
A flash of blond caught his eye. Kyouya growled and turned down a side street. This street was narrow and ran between two tall buildings. In it, he could hear the echoes of another pair of feet. They were light but fast. Kyouya broke from the side street into a residential lane. The second pair followed him. He ducked down a sidewalk, past the main house, and used a trashcan as leverage to hop the fence. He landed in a small backyard. He cut across the yard and jumped, grabbing ahold of a low hanging branch just as the sound of those pursuing feet hitting the ground behind him reached his ears.
Kyouya climbed up into the tree, navigating the branches until he was over the next fence, and then jumped down. When he landed, he turned, reaching into his bag as he did and pulling out two of his chef's knives. He threw them.
A shadow jumped out of the tree, flipping over the knives, and landing with ease in front of him. Aino Minako turned and clasped her hands behind her back, a smile on her face. "That was close," she said.
Kyouya scowled at her. "What are you doing here?" he demanded as he stalked past her.
"I was looking for you," Minako said. "Seiya told me that you refused to see him again."
Kyouya yanked one of his knives from the tree branch. "Yes," he said tersely. He reached for his other knife and worked it from the abused wood.
"You can't keep ignoring us like this," Minako said.
Kyouya used his frustration to yank the blade free. He had nicked both of the blades. He would need to give each some extra care to fix the damage his impulsion had wrought. It was nearly as bad as when he had used his knives to fight off that monster that first time. He slipped the knives back into his bag. "I've made my stance very clear," he said, walking past Minako again, intending to continue on his way.
"You've made it clear that you are upset and want to be left alone," Minako pointed out.
Kyouya chuckled at her assertion. "I'm not upset," he countered. "But I do want to be left alone."
"You are upset," Minako contradicted.
"Oh?" Kyouya turned around, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "And how would you know that I'm upset, hm?"
Minako did not back down from his attempted intimidation. "You always run when you're upset."
Kyouya's eyes flashed with anger. "Do I?" he asked. "Do I always run?" He did, and it bothered him that she knew that about him.
"You do," Minako said again, still unmoved by his change in moods. She stood unwavering before him, her stance strong but relaxed, almost comfortable, as if she had been in a moment like this before, with him, and knew what was needed. It stoked the anger inside of Kyouya. He did not like her ease. "Kyouya," Minako continued. "I know you miss Mamoru."
"Don't," Kyouya said.
"And I know you don't want to talk about it, but you have to," Minako pushed forward. "Please don't keep running from us, we need you!" Kyouya scoffed, but Minako would not be deterred. "Your team needs you."
"I told Seiya already—"
"Well, you were wrong!" Minako said. "There is a team! A team of your brothers who are just as lost as you are! They lost Mamoru and it sucked, but they're worse off because they lost you too! You're their leader! They need you to come back; I need—" Minako cut off and looked up, trying to reformulate her argument. She took a deep breath. "Things aren't going well," she confessed. "The girls are trying, but—"
"Yeah, I heard," Kyouya grumbled. "Seiya told me all about it. Nice job letting your princess join the fight."
"No different than your prince," Minako said.
"He's not my prince!" Kyouya snapped. "Why do you people keep saying that? He's not! Jadeite may think he is and the Dark Kingdom and your deluded princess, but to not me! To me, he is Chiba Mamoru, my friend who died because of your ridiculous war!" The accusation hung heavily between them.
Minako stared at him, not believing that those words had come out of his mouth. "What happened to you?" she asked. "You're not..."
"Not what?" Kyouya asked. He was tired of this; all of this. "Not bowing to your almighty destiny born from some secret past? No, I'm not. I make my own decisions, and I've chosen to walk away."
Minako shook her head in denial. "You can't," she said. "You can't run from your destiny. It's impossible."
Kyouya turned away from her and said, "Watch me." He stalked away, his fists clenched and his heart pounding. He would not be swayed.
"Kyouya!" Minako called after him. "You can't run from this! Please! Don't leave!"
Kyouya closed his eyes and started running again.
He never heard Minako's final whispered plea, "Please don't leave me again."
"You can't run from your destiny..."
It was four in the morning. Kyouya couldn't sleep. His mind and his heart were at war with one another. The world was quiet, but he had no peace.
"They've been leaving some rather interesting messages..."
His run had backfired. Running usually brought him clarity. Not tonight. Tonight, he was more confused than ever, thus, he sought solace in the last place he could find peace: his dojo.
"Please come back." Seiya's voice rang in his ears. "We need you. I can't do this; I can't be the leader here."
Kyouya tighten his grip on his katana and attacked the wooden sparring dummy. His blade struck the thick pole over and over and over again.
"You ran straight into it! There was no sign up needed." His accusations rang in his ears. "You volunteered...and you dragged Mamoru down with you! "
No, a cruel voice whispered in his mind. Seiya wasn't the one who dragged Mamoru down.
Kyouya hacked at the dummy. A chunk of wood threw through the air.
"There is nothing else." Jadeite's face came next—a face that was lined with eons of pain; a face that had begged to be trusted and yet had only been denied. "He's gone. Our Prince is gone."
Kyouya narrowed his eyes.
"He's not my prince!"
He sped up his attack, swinging with all of his might. His arms burned, but he kept pushing. He would keep pushing until the memories submitted to him and returned to the darkness where he buried them.
"He's gone," Jadeite's voice echoed through him again, followed closely by the words he had thrown at Minako not so long ago, still so fresh in his mind. "...my friend who died!"
Kyouya grit his teeth.
"He's not dead." Seiya had pleaded.
"Shut up," Kyouya snarled at the memory.
Minako had looked so hurt when she asked, "What happened to you?"
"Shut up!" He sliced off another chunk of wood.
"You said you trusted me." Jadeite had looked at him like he had torn his heart out.
"I lied!" His words haunted him. In the stillness of the dojo, those words tormented him.
You lied, that voice—a voice that sounded too much like his own voice—accused. You lied. You're a liar. You said you would protect him.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Kyouya's hands stung with each violent blow he dealt. All around him, the world was blurring. Memories hounded him, filling his mind with all that he did not want to face.
"So...we do have magic." What had he been thinking? Magic? Magic wasn't real! It did not matter that he had felt more alive than he ever thought possible during that battle. He had felt whole, as if a piece of himself had come back.
"Not what? Not bowing to your almighty destiny born from some secret past?" Fate. Destiny. It was all a joke. He was not dictated by the past; he decided his own future. "I live because I can." Those words, thrown defiantly at the Silver Death, resounded inside of him. No one chose his path but him.
"Our prince?" He hated those words. Mamoru was not a prince! Kyouya refused to believe it. Mamoru was his friend, and Kyouya had chosen to protect him of his own freewill.
"I don't know what I'm doing." Every battle they had faced flashed through his mind. "I mean, monsters? Dark Kingdom? None of it makes sense." Monsters and generals and crystals inside of humans; sports car generals and blond she-bitches and the Silver Death; an orange female soldier and a talking cat; a golden magic that drew him in with promises of secrets yet untold; it all pushed at the edges of his sanity. Kyouya yelled in frustration and attacked the dummy as if it were the source of his torment.
"Seiya and I stumbled onto the Dark Kingdom either by accident or by faith, but, regardless, we chose to fight..." Mamoru had been so sure of himself sitting in Kyouya's living room that night.
Hot tears burned in the corner of Kyouya's eyes.
He ignored them.
"If we don't, they'll attack everyone who lives here."
Mamoru running toward Tamaki...
Kyouya closed his eyes.
"I cannot let that happen."
Mamoru jumping in front of the Silver Death.
Kyouya threw technique out the window and began hacking repeatedly at the dummy.
"I just..."
The Silver Death drove his sword down...through Mamoru's body...pinning him to the floor.
Kyouya screamed.
"I just want to keep my friend safe."
Kyouya's sword flew out of his hands. A sharp jolt of pain broke the spell around his mind, bringing him back to reality. Kyouya looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood.
Blood...so much blood...
Kyouya sank to his knees.
Mamoru's blood...
Kyouya began to tremble.
Mamoru, his friend, the one he had protected since childhood, was gone.
"Our prince is gone."
Kyouya clenched his fists and, with an enraged yell, slammed them into the matt. He reared up and did it again and again and again, yelling out his frustration, his anger, his pain, and his fears.
He did not hear the garage door open, nor did he hear the soft footfalls drawing near.
He pressed his forehead into the matt, the tears he had been ignoring falling freely now as he clawed helplessly at the abused flooring. "My fault," he gasped. "My fault. All my fault."
A strong hand gripped his shoulder.
Kyouya stilled under the touch. The silver haired teenager turned just enough to look up at his grandfather. The old man's ancient eyes shone with compassion as he squeezed his grandson's shoulder. "Let it out, boy," he said.
"I failed," Kyouya whispered. He turned away in shame and condemned himself further. "I failed! I failed to protect him, and now he's gone!" He drew his beaten hands into fists and pressed them into his eyes. "Mamoru's gone."
His confession opened the flood gates, releasing the pain he had been holding inside of his heart since that dreaded day. Everything Kyouya had every believed in was gone. This war had stolen all of it—his confidence, his sense of purpose, his understanding of reality, and, above all else, his best and only friend. Mamoru has been his everything—a fellow orphan who understood the pain of losing a family, except that Mamoru had no one while Kyouya had had his grandfather. That day on the playground, when those bullies had come to strip Mamoru of his dignity, Kyouya knew that he had to protect that boy. He always knew he had to protect Chiba Mamoru.
"My boy," Jin soothed. "My brave, stubborn boy. Tell me."
"I can't," Kyouya said through his tears. "I don't understand! Nothing makes sense anymore!"
"I know," his grandfather said. "But you need to look ahead."
Kyouya pulled himself up onto his knees and stared, bleary-eyed at the ceiling. "I thought I had," he whispered. "I looked ahead and saw death, so I walked away."
"And you regretted it."
Kyouya looked at him, his eyes red and watery.
"Had you been confident in your decision, it wouldn't be tormenting you like this," his grandfather said.
"I can't go back," Kyouya said. "There's nothing there for me."
"That persistent American is there," his grandfather said. He gripped Kyouya's shoulder again and looked his grandson in the eye. "This battle you started with Mamoru is still there, even if he isn't. Ask yourself: would he want you to run away? Or would he want you to finish it? You need to decide, and never look back."
"Never ask 'What if'," Kyouya said.
"And never..."
"Live with regrets," they said together.
Hatake Jin pulled his grandson to him and rested his chin on his head. "Whatever you decide, my boy, I'm with you, but please, choose quickly. I can't afford to keep feeding your friends."
Kyouya grinned. "Yeah," he whispered. "Sorry about that."
The two men sat like that for a long while, allowing the emotions of the night to disappear with the darkness. As the sun began to rise, Jin pulled away from his grandson and asked him, "So, what are you going to do, Ninja-san?"
The peaceful air of the Hikawa Shrine was shattered by a desperate scream.
"No!" Jadeite screamed. "Stop it! What are you doing?" He clawed at the hand that was gripping his robes, pushed against the arm pinning him in place, and tried to get his feet underneath him to stop the momentum that was dragging him OUT of the room of the sacred fire.
Kyouya ignored him. He twisted his hand, tightening his hold on Jadeite's robes, and continued to force the young man out into the courtyard, passed the main buildings, and toward the temple gates.
All the while, Jadeite fought against him, pleading, "Let me go! Don't do this, please! You have no idea what will happen if you do this, please! Stop!"
Seiya and Tamaki came out of one of the side buildings, drawn by the commotion. They gaped in mixed expressions of shock, surprise, concern, and excitement (on Tamaki's part). When Jadeite saw them, he changed tactics. "Seiya!" he reached desperately for his friend. "Help! You need to stop him! Tell him what will happen! Tell him!"
Kyouya still didn't listen.
They crossed the main courtyard; Kyouya dragging, Jadeite begging, and Seiya and Tamaki following close behind.
When they neared the gate, Kyouya dropped the duffle bag he had had slung over his shoulder onto the cobblestone. Arm now free, he used it to grabbed Jadeite by the shoulders and force him past the gate, holding Jadeite out over the stairs.
"No, please!" Jadeite begged. "Kyouya, please! I don't want to go back!"
"What was that?" Kyouya demanded, giving Jadeite a shake for good measure. "Speak up, Priest!"
Jadeite looked Kyouya in the eye and repeated himself. "I don't want to go back! Please, no! I can't! The sacred fire is gone! Mamoru is gone! There is nothing left to protect me! If you do this, the Dark Kingdom with come for me, and I can't!"
Kyouya narrowed his eyes. "Yes, you can," he said; then, he pushed Jadeite out passed the gate and passed the wards Kuzon had put into place weeks ago.
Jadeite landed on the stone steps and gripped them for dear life, stopping his fall and turning quickly to run back up the steps to safety, but Kyouya grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back. He forced Jadeite all the way down to the bottom of the steps. There, he dumped the frantic young man onto the sidewalk and stepped back.
Jadeite stayed on the ground, frozen, waiting with bated breath for the inevitable.
Nothing happened.
Jadeite looked up; there was no sign of the Dark Kingdom. "What..." He jumped to his feet and looked around again. There was still nothing. His fear disappeared into anger. He turned on Kyouya, "What the hell was that?!" he demanded.
Kyouya did not answer. He turned and jogged back up the steps.
"Kyouya!" Jadeite chased after him. "Do you have any idea what you just did? You could have damned us all! You have no idea what I was like when I was theirs! I could have killed you! I would have killed you! And I would have laughed, too, but do you even care?"
"Stop whining," Kyouya said.
"Whining?" Jadeite gaped at him.
By now, the Sailor Scouts had joined Seiya and Tamaki at the top of the steps. They backed up when Kyouya reached the top. He walked past them, ignoring their eyes on his back, and knelt down next to his bag.
"Uh, who's this guy?" Makoto asked.
"What are you wearing?" Kyouya asked without looking up at her.
"My Sailor Scout uniform," Makoto replied.
"It's ridiculous, take it off." Kyouya pulled three katana from his bag.
"Excuse me?" Makoto asked.
Kyouya stood up; he looped one of the katana over his shoulder so that is hung behind his back. "You heard me. Take it off. Get into some gym clothes. You have ten minutes."
Makoto looked at Minako who was watching the whole exchange with a bemused expression. "You are not our leader," the green-clad warrior said indignantly.
"Understood. You have nine minutes. Gym clothes. Now!"
The Scouts jumped at his commanding tone and ran back into the temple in search of their school bags. Minako lingered for a moment.
Kyouya raised his finger to silence her. "Not a word," he said.
"I wasn't going to say anything," Minako hummed with a smile. She skipped off to get changed.
Alone once again with his brothers, Kyouya faced them and waited.
Jadeite was still angry. "That was reckless," he said, not backing down. "The Dark Kingdom is still after me."
"Yes," Kyouya said. "And you've done a bang up job of hiding from them while Seiya and Tamaki fought."
Jadeite narrowed his eyes. "At least I stayed," he said.
Kyouya had the decency to look contrite. "You're right. I left you guys when you needed me the most. I ran away instead of sticking with my team." He looked at Seiya. "I'm sorry. It was cowardly of me. I had to face my fears about this war and make a decision." He turned back to Jadeite. "And now, it's your turn. I heard your fear; you don't want to go back. I didn't want to come back here, but I'm here. You don't want to go back to the Dark Kingdom." He handed the last two katana to Jadeite. "And you won't. As long as we are here, we are going to protect you."
Jadeite took the offered katana, his eyes wide with wonder. "You...want to protect me?"
Kyouya nodded.
Jadeite looked down at the beautiful weapons, uncertain. "But you said you didn't trust me."
"I lied," Kyouya said.
"You need to work on that," Jadeite said.
"I know." Kyouya went back to his bag and pulled something else out of it. "You guys have been slacking since I've been gone." He stood and turned to Tamaki. "That stops now."
"We haven't been doing that badly," Tamaki said.
"Two words," Kyouya said as he stepped forward. "Princess Academy."
"Well, that was—oof!" Tamaki's excuse was cut off when Kyouya shoved something into his chest. Tamaki juggled the item, trying to get a hold of it. He held it up; it was, in fact, two things—two rolled up bundles of throwing knives, and, wrapped in the center of each, was a sai. He stared at them in wonder. "Are these for me?" he asked.
Kyouya took one of the rolls from him. "You wrap these around your wrists," he instructed. He unrolled one, handed the free sai to Tamaki, and then strapped the roll to the young teen's arm. It covered his forearm from wrist to just before his elbow.
Tamaki beamed at the gift. "Does this mean I'm a part of the team?"
Kyouya frowned at the boy. "Put the other one on before I change my mind."
Tamaki giggled, far too excited about this. He pulled one of the knives out.
"Don't unsheathe those unless I say so!" Kyouya growled.
Tamaki put the knife back. He worked on getting the other roll onto his other arm.
Kyouya walked up to Seiya. "You owe my grandfather a lot of money."
"I'm happy to pay it," Seiya replied. "Are you really back?"
"I'm really back," Kyouya said. He extended his hand to Seiya. "I never should have left."
Seiya smiled and took Kyouya's hand. As they shook, Seiya could feel that hunch predicting their doom disappearing, a new hunch taking its place. This one told him that they just might stand a chance now.
"Alright, we changed," Makoto said with obvious irritation. She stood with the other Scouts, her hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised. "Now what?"
"Now," Kyouya drew out as he unsheathed his katana. He pointed the blade at the girls. "You run." He charged them.
The girls screamed, turned, and ran for it. Kyouya chased after them. Jadeite, Tamaki, and Seiya exchanged looks, shrugged, and followed the group.
Kyouya chased the Sailor Scouts, Seiya, Tamaki, and Jadeite across the courtyard, through the temple, and around the ground. Whenever he got close, he would wrap them with the blunt side of his blade. "If I can catch you, the Dark Kingdom can catch you! Run faster!"
"I don't like this training!" Usagi wailed.
"Too bad, Princess!" Kyouya said. "You wanted to join this war! Now, you pay the price!"
I'm going to finish what we started, Mamoru, Kyouya thought as he swung at Tamaki. The boy dodged and sprinted ahead. I'll protect them just like I promised, so please...come back.
AN: This chapter is one I have wanted to write since Here Without You. Kyouya's belief in choosing his own Fate and how that may interfere with his accepting his destiny as a Shittenou has always been something I've wanted to explore in more depth. I hope I did it justice in this chapter. Kyouya is a complex character. I wanted to show you all a new side to him-the vulnerable side, a side was is within him but not as prominent as in Jadeite or Seiya. It was a fine line to walk, but I think I did rather well. Plus, I wanted to write about his grandfather. His grandfather is awesome, having figured out that his grandson is the much whispered about Ninja. Like he said, nothing gets past him. :-)
Reviews are love! See you all next chapter!
Jecir