"Are you Gear Master Jin?"
Kyousuke looked up from his half-empty plate to see another one of his cousins walking up to him. This time, however, he didn't scowl, because he was surprised to discover that the speaker was a cousin of his he hasn't met previously. In fact, he seemed rather curious as to why the younger boy was wobbling as he walked, as if he wasn't sure of where he was heading. "Yes, that's me," he blurted out at long last, when the other finally managed to get near enough that he couldn't possibly ignore him anymore. "Why?"
It took another few seconds for the other to sit down. "I'm Kenichi. You can call me Ken. I just wanted to talk to you, that's all…" He hesitated, running his hand through his messy brown-black hair absent-mindedly. "I know you don't like to talk, but please… just this once. There's just… so much I want to know about Gear Fighting. And I've never had the chance to get near a Gear Fighter, let alone a Gear Master…"
The Gear Master affixed his gaze on the kid. "Go on."
To his surprise once more, his cousin stood up and indicated the door to the far left. It was only then when he managed to figure out that Kenichi was actually his Aunt Shieru's youngest son. "My Gear's in my room… can you take a look at it? Please?"
Why is he affecting me like this? Why do I feel comfortable talking to him? What's going on? Kyousuke wondered as he got up and followed the younger lad, pushing his glasses closer to his face without actually giving it thought, his attention completely on his cousin. His cousin who had struck a conversation with him so nicely and so full of respect, his cousin who wobbled while he walked, his cousin who…
Dark. Ken's room was dark, even for the genius' standards. But the boy easily figured his way around the room, not at all tripping at whatever was inside. He stopped as he was halfway across the area, turning around to face his cousin by the doorway and making his way back to him. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized as he turned on the lights, revealing his very tidy and spacious quarters. He then smiled sheepishly. "Much better?"
"Why don't you leave the lights on?" the spectacled young man found himself asking, out of curiosity.
"Oh. The lights? I… I don't need the lights." He fumbled to his cabinet and pulled out one of the many Gears that were perched on the topmost shelf. It was a silver-colored one lined with dark blue at the edges; a dash-type one of a very simple design. However, it looked like it had never been used at all. "Here's my Gear. I call it… well… I don't have a name for it yet. I was hoping you could help me. I don't really know what should be taken into consideration when you name Gears and stuff."
Kyousuke's curiosity still wasn't satisfied; at least, it appeared to be as he pressed on for more information. What the other didn't know was that the feeling of dread had settled at the pit of the Gear Master's stomach. In a carefully controlled voice, he began, "Ken. Why… why did you say you don't need the lights?"
A forced smile. "I'm blind, Kyousuke-san."
"No way…"
"Yeah. But it's nothing, really. Well anyway! What should the name of this be? I really don't know much about this… except that it's called a Crush Gear, its hull is silver, and it's a dash type," the other quickly changed the topic, holding up his Gear in front of his cousin even though he wasn't facing him at the right angle. It didn't even look like the topic about his health had bothered him at all, most probably because he was used to being asked about it already.
"You're blind, and you say it's nothing?" Kyousuke asked in a disbelieving tone. He wasn't putting the topic to a close just yet. "How could you say that? I know the lights get too bright and hurt our eyes sometimes, but still---! Not being able to see at all is… is…"
Ken turned on the night lamp, sat down at the foot of his bed, and smiled, putting his unnamed Gear aside. "Come on in, Kyousuke-san. I'll show you something. And please turn off the lights."
It was a strange request, but the spectacled boy found himself doing what he had been asked, nonetheless. After turning off the lights, he sat down beside his cousin, who then flickered the lampshade off. He was about to ask what the other was up to when he saw Ken point up to the ceiling, so he looked up. There. It was beautiful. The ceiling was filled with stars and moons and planets --- luminous plastic ones.
And they formed the word hope.
"I can't see it, but I know it's there. You can say that's what keeps me going. I may be in the darkness now, but my case isn't hopeless. Even if it is --- you know, without the surgery stuff I'm rather looking forward to --- there's no reason to just sulk and be depressed. I'm alive. And as long as there's life, there's hope." He then stopped and bowed his head. "Sorry. Got carried away."
Kyousuke wanted to tell him that it was fine, that he didn't mind his dramatic ramblings, but he couldn't find the voice to do so. A lump had formed in his throat, preventing him from speaking a word, as he remembered how he, too, was in the darkness… because of a friend… a friend who stood at the brink of life and death…
Hope, Mitsuke. He joined Ken in lying down on the soft mattress, preparing themselves for their upcoming name-brainstorming session. He fixed his gaze on the letters glowing against the dark ceiling. I know you have it in you. It's about time… about time I found it, too.
"Mom? Dad?" the blonde young man called out as he opened the door of his home, peering inside rather hesitantly. His Mediterranean blue eyes darted around the area, on the look out for whatever was going on inside, before he decided to finish with an, "I'm home!"
Silence greeted Kuroudo in response, and he didn't know if he was supposed to be glad about it, or scared. It could mean that his parents had stopped arguing at long last, or it could mean that his parents had broken up for good. He hoped it was the former, hoped with all of his heart; he had experienced more than enough heartache in a day --- and on Christmas Eve, of all days --- to last him a lifetime.
Then, he heard footsteps. He turned around to see who it was…
… his parents.
Francine immediately rushed forward and hugged him, tears appearing in her eyes as soon as they made contact. "You came home! Oh Kuroudo! I-I'm so glad… th-thank you… I thought… oh… I'm just so h-happy… You c-came… came home…" She then pulled away and stepped aside, allowing her just-as-happy husband to do the same, although as expected, Hideaki didn't cry. "Your father and I… we're really sorry. It won't happen again."
"Mom! Come on!" the young man chided, opening one arm to invite her to join in the family hug. He, too, was crying. As the flaxen-haired woman moved in to join them, the clock struck twelve, indicating that it was the 25th of December at long last. Kuroudo smiled, snuggling into his parents' arms. "Merry Christmas, Mom, Dad."