Author's Note: Presently I'm in a very farked up mood. So forgive the language and the flavour of the story. That all ends, have fun. Apply disclaimers, I'm too injured to add em' in.

Even the Hardest Nuts will Crack...
by Rei Himura

***

Chapter 2: A Dance, A Girl and So Much More...

***

"Dilandau-sama!"

"What?"

"Y-you can't go to the... the dance in that..." stuttered Shesta. he glanced over to Dallet and Migel. The pair tried focussing their attention elsewhere. Oh why am I always the one stuck with this... He gulped and approached his employer/master/God.

"D-dilandau-sama... this is a ball. It's very formal and... and people don't wear military uniforms to... to balls." he gulped, recoiling just in case the young bishounen might decide to strike him hard across the face. He waited. Where's the impact? Opening one eye slightly, he was greeted with a resounding slap across the face which landed him on the far side of the room.

"Next time... LOOK AT ME!" shouted the 15-year old crimson-eyed male. Dilandau inhaled sharply. This was but a stupid, pathetic and miserable ploy to try and influence the rulers of other nations to join Zaibach. Strategos should be doing these kind of things. Not him. Not the greatest and soon-to-be Dragonslayer of Zaibach. He, Dilandau Albatou, was a slayer. Not some pathetic and cowardly noblemen who fill their lame lives with foolish costume parades and dances. He sighed and walked towards the window.

"Stupid Strategos..."

***

"Aah... Dilandau. I assume you're very much comfortable?" asked Folken over the intercom. There was a snort and then the familiar high-pitched voice came online.

"It would be better if I had Alseides. This... this things called carriages are such a bore. Slow... shaky and completely unstable. And why is there a group of stupid non-ryuugetai in the same carriage as me? Were you planning on multiple deaths Strategos?" drawled Dilandau. He was seated across three men clad in matching black suits. They appeared cool and collected. Yet beneath the seemingly icy demeanour, they were trembling at the queer antiquities of the gentleman sitting across them. Seated on both sides were two members of his elite Dragonslayers - the Ryuugetai. They were said to be the best and most skilled Guymelef pilots throughout Zaibach. After all, Dilandau himself hand-picked the fine young man. Fine they would be and young they extremely were. For each of them appeared to be around the same age as the platinum-haired individual. Folken cleared his throat.

"Don't worry Dilandau. We can adjust the seating arrangements when we return. For now, try not to do anything which will tarnish the image of Zaibach." a grunt and faint murmurs could be heard before Folken disconnected the intercom. He only hoped that Dilandau would be able to contain himself throughout the journey. He would have an equally hard time trying to explain the deaths of three armed officials to Dornkirk-sama.

***

Two red and black carriages arrived at the Kingdom of Basram. Emiko Delancour watched from her balcony with bored and tired eyes, and yawned. What a sad way to spend an otherwise perfect evening. She groaned and then got up from her awkward position of leaning on the bannister.

"Ahh... Emiko-hime... your father has been looking for you-"

"Yare... yare... I'm on my way." she replied carelessly and walked down the spiral staircase with a heavy and disappointed heart.

***

Music filled the air. Bright, quick-paced and cheerful. Most of the Dragonslayers appeared to be enjoying themselves. Not exactly becase they truly were, but because they were ordered to. Dilandau muttered his 100th curse for the night as he gulped down a glass of red wine. His head was still clear, not fogged or dimmed by the alcohol. It was as though the liqour itself sharpened his senses. He watched in dismay as the people around him engaged in boring and stale conversations. A yawned escaped his thin lips and he retreated to a small and dark corner of the seemingly bright ball. Yet as he did so, he bumped into a hurried figure.

"Ah. Gomen nasai."

"Watch where you're going."

"Well it's not my fault! You were moving backwards. If you at least turned your head, then we wouldn't have collided!" at this point, some of the guests begane giving the pair strange looks. Dilandau narrowed his eyes, giving them a dark look and then turned to the stranger. He appeared to be a male, slightly shorter than him and clad in a rather simple yet elegant black dress. Hold on... since when do men wear dresses?

"What are -you- looking at? Hentai!" hissed the petite female. Her sharp crystalline eyes bore deep into his crimson ones. Dilandau's heart skipped a beat. Matte yo! Since when did his heart -ever- skip a beat?

"Crazy onnas..." he mumbled and moved off. Emiko's eyes widened with fury and she stormed off in the opposite direction, with clear intentions of seeing her father. Men! Chauvinistic and masochistic ahous!

***

"And so ladies and gentlemen... I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Here is a toast, to perhaps a new foundation between Basram and Zaibach!"

"Cheers!" happy and seemingly drunk, the crowd roared their applause and then returned back to dancing and downing more alcohol. From his corner, Dilandau snorted at their antics.

"Old fools with no lives wasting their time on Gaea drinking, dancing and making idle and pointless conversations. What a bore Basram truly is!" he commented loudly.

"Well, I would have taken that as a direct insult to my country. But since you too find the mere idea of wasting one's lives with such... ridiculous functions, I would have thought we were on the same level." he turned his head sharply to find the girl whom he had bumped into much earlier, glowering at him. Dilandau rolled his eyes. Onnas...

"Don't think I didn't hear that." she replied and made her way towards him. She was no longer wearing the accursed black dress which accentuated her slim yet shapely figure well. Instead, she had donned on men's attire. One which consisted of a military-styled shirt and black pants. Her cropped auburn hair framed her delicate feminine face, making her seem like a very much desirable bishounen. Dilandau's eyes widened. Not as when he would be in a Guymelef burning trees to crisps, but more out of surprise.

"You can read my mind. I take that as intruding my privacy." he replied curtly, eyeing her as she moved closer towards him. His eyes travelled over her physique, resting shortly on the long and slender legs before settling on the sheathed scabbard by her side. Emiko smirked.

"Never seen a girl with a weapon before?"

"Ahh... iie... I was thinking more along the lines of girls not truly capable of combat with sharp visages. Cutlery was more to their liking. That or either gouging the eyes out of their foe." rage welled up within Emiko. This... this pig. With such nerve! Insulting her country and now her! All she would have wanted to do now was rip his head off and use it as a candle holder. She breathed in, sharp and ragged, and decided to play this amusing game of words.

"Ah well... perhaps so in your diminutive and narrow-minded head. But I should think women or 'onnas' as you prefer caling us, are capable of doing much more than brawling like cats." the male's eyes widened again, amused. Aah... fiesty. So much venom. Unlike those pathetic onnas Strategos has with him.

"I take that as a compliment." Oh yeah... she could hear him.

"Is it not possible that for a minute you do not enter my private thoughts? Or perhaps you would like to hear exactly what I have in mind for you." at this he grinned saliciously.

"Hentai..."

"Is that all you have in your word glossary?"

"Oh no... not at all. Sad to say though, it is perhaps the only word to describe a... a pig like you. Hentai baka!" his eyes widened. It was a long time he had engaged in such stimulating battles or debates at it now seemed. Of course... his Ryuugetai were too fearful of opposing him, knowing what he could do with a dagger and a wine bottle. But this was not a member of his elite. This... was a girl. Intelligent and witty. With no complete idea of who he truly was and what he was capable of. A girl who could read his thoughts. A girl who... looked stunning even in men's clothing. Dilandau! Control yourself!

Emiko frowned. There was much commotion and chaos in his head that she couldn't discern what was going on clearly inside his ecchi mind. Must be like what the rest of the male population think of before they go to bed at night. She shuddered. Yet at the same time, she doubt he was one of them. He wasn't like most of the suitors her father had sent to chase after her. He didn't even appear to want to chase her. Maybe chase her away from him, but certainly nowhere near a romantic relationship. Kami-sama... could it be? The only person I could have liked is... is... a gay?

Dilandau saw the flicker of emotions in her eyes and idly wondered what she was thinking of. Must be onna things. He was about to mention something when a tap on his shoulder averted his attention. Standing behind, still neat and smart, was two of his Ryuugetai - Migel and Dalet. Migel's expression was serious as was Dalet. It seemed, party time was over and they were to return back to the floating fortress.

"Dilandau-sama... Folken-sama says that we are to leave now."

"Oh so soon?" came a scathing remark from behind their leader. Migel and Dalet exchanged puzzled looks. The platinum-haired male ignored the remark.

"Fine then... we leave. I don't intend to waste my time on whiny onnas who talk too much for their own good." at this, the pair's confusion became more puzzled. Onna? Dilandau-sama? Could it be? Their Dilandau-sama showed interest in women? This could prove to be v-e-r-y interesting.

"I heard that thought. And sad to say... I do not intend to be in a conversation with a hentai baka. And if you are his cohorts, then I must say you truly are yaoi!" Emiko stormed away, her emotions hurt and disappointed. But before she took more than a few steps, the familiar cold and high-pitched voice called back out to her.

"Oi onna! You didn't tell me your name." Name? Dilandau... what the hell is going on inside of your head? Mentally, he shook of Cynicism and Skepticism, the most used conscience and gagged them. He was curious to know the exact term to describe this spitfire. After all... onna was too general. It meant a lot of things. While she was most of them... there was something more about her. She had paused, which was a good thing, and hesitated before speaking softly.

"Emiko. Emiko Delancour.

***

Notes: Aahh... lovely nice? Ne... I'm going to get writer's block soon. So I stopped her and I'm playing with this inane idea of a round-robin. Any interested partites please feel free to mail me! Nyahahahha... remember. Always read and review. You wouldn't want a pyromaniac on a fire spree visiting your town now do you? o_O