NOT Kyoudai 03

Wow, it makes me feel special that people are pleading for the next part of this fic to come out hours after I finished the second part. ^_^;; Unfortunately, that's impossible for me, as I'm lazy as heck and I constantly have too many projects to finish. I'll try to get parts out with more frequency in the future. I am truly sorry about the looong time gap in this part, but I had family obligations and major writer's block (one scene in here took literally weeks to write, and then the rest of the fic came in about two days. ^_^)

I had a lot of help on this part of the fic from the Shidokan Kendo Club Home Page (http://www.cam.org/~hiro/skc/), which is a great resource for those who want to learn more about kendo.

I don't own Iori or any of the other Chosen and their family. I've given several unnamed characters names, heh. ^_^ I do own Iori's various classmates and friends, but no one cares about them yet, except for me, it's sad. ;_; I also own the theory that too much Freecell can steal your soul -- or at least any chance of a healthy, well-balanced life. My entire family is addicted to Windows games. It's really sad. We'll jockey for positions in front of the computer late into the night, everyone wanting to finish "just one more game..."

This part pretty much outlines the various romances I plan to have in this fic. Excepting one particular coupling (not counting Iori-kun), I haven't really planned much to do with the romances, so if anyone has any requests for romances/hints/musings, I'm pretty open to interpretations. I may regret this later, but hey! I have no opinion on most of the romances in the series, Those That Want Them might as well get some enjoyment out of this fic. ^_-

Kyoudai 03
by Rb

I held my shinai, the ritual bamboo sword, firmly in my grip and watched my opponent carefully. He thrust his own shinai at my head. I parried easily and turned my parry into a thrust of my own, towards his lower torso. He blocked me.

My opponent was the captain of the kendo team himself, Ishikawa Miki, and it was imperative that I do well. Quickly, so quickly that I could hardly see my own movements, I jabbed my shinai at his wrist. He blocked my hit, but barely. I thrust again, again, and while he deflected all of my shots, I was still confident. He didn't score any points off me during the practice, either.

At the end of the practice round, he removed his bogu, his protective armor. "Good job, Hida-kun," he addressed me warmly.

I removed my own bogu, controlling my blush of pride. "Thank you, Ishikawa-san," I said, bowing.

"Ahh, so formal. It's nice to have someone respectful on the team." He grinned at me. "You are truly skilled, Hida-kun."

"Thank you," I repeated.

"So was your grandfather," he says, looking hard at me. Testing, I think.

"I know." His words had pierced my heart, but I was determined not to let him know that. "You studied with him, ne?"

"Hai." Ishikawa smiled at me. "I remember you sitting in on my lessons. You were a little squirt, but you'd watch every move I did, eagle-eyed. Your grandfather made sure of it."

I remembered that. Grandfather would often have me watch his other students practice. He'd have me study their styles, their reactions. Later, he'd ask me to rate the students and their skill levels.

"Anyway, Hida-kun, you really did well out there. I'm proud to have you on the team." He extended a hand to me, and I gladly shook it.

After practice, I went into the locker room and showered, washing the salty sweat off of my body. I changed back into my school clothes and started the walk home.

I hate walking home alone. It gives me too much time to think about things. I think too much, and the others constantly tell me that while it's good to think, don't overanalyze every detail every moment of your life, Iori...

It's part of me, that part of my mind that won't shut up, that notices every single detail and won't stop buzzing until I pay attention to it, until I think too much, until I retreat into myself and just watch. It makes me good with strategy, chess, war, kendo, and school. It makes me really bad at relationships, at dealing with people, because people are so illogical and confusing you can't ever really predict them...

I'm serious. I'm sensible. That's me. But not even I can predict myself sometimes.

Instead of thinking, I tried to watch others. About a half-block ahead of me was Keiko's tall figure. She's a strange kid, maybe even stranger than myself.

She spends all of her time in class reading books, even when the teacher is teaching us new material. She never speaks to anyone unless it's considered absolutely necessary. The only sport she participates in is kendo -- and she's good at kendo, she's one of the few female students and the only other seventh grader to make the team.

What's even weirder is that she's actually stuck up for me. When some bullies were picking on me because I was smaller and smarter than they were, Keiko told them to stop -- and they stopped. Haven't figured her out. Anyway, it didn't do much good, they were after me the next day, too, and the next -- until Takeru and Daisuke found out what was happening and co-conspired to teach them a lesson.

I haven't had any problems since then.

Keiko's all alone, maybe she's lonely, maybe she's relishing her aloneness. If I was walking home with Miyako and Takeru, then Miyako would be making up stories about Keiko and her 'mysterious past,' and Takeru would urge me to make friends with her. But I'm alone, and I only can act on what I, myself, would do.

I walked on.

I spoke with _her_ today. It wasn't much, just a "Hi, Urawa-san," and a "Hi, Hida-kun," in return, but it still made me happy. Is it normal to feel like that? Just because she's pretty and smart and kind, so kind, doesn't mean that she is someone I should feel this deeply for. But I do. Is that wrong? Is that right? I don't think I'll ever know.

"Boo."

The quiet voice startled me. "Ehh?!"

"Hey, Iori-kun."

"Jyou-sempai," I greeted him.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other day at the mall," he said formally.

"Well, we weren't exactly polite in leaving you behind," I noted.

"Eh heh heh," Jyou laughed, "well...I shouldn't have left you, either."

"It was Mimi-san's fault, anyway," I said. "You shouldn't have to apologize for her actions."

Jyou got an odd look on his face. "Mimi was just trying to distract Yamato. And it worked."

"Distract?" I queried.

Jyou nodded. "We...wanted to get your minds off of the fact of your parrents' engagement," he said carefully. "So Taichi, Sora, and Mimi went off with Yamato, Hikari, Miyako, and Ken went with Takeru, and Koushirou, Daisuke, and I met up with you."

"So, your coming to my home and taking me to the mall...that was planned," I said in a perfectly level voice.

However, Jyou must have seen the anguish in my eyes. "We wanted to see you, though, Iori-kun. We wouldn't have come otherwise."

"So the others didn't want to see me?" Miyako-san...

"Well, we...wanted each of you three to have three visitors, so we worked out who would visit whom. Miyako wanted to be in your group," Jyou said as an afterthought, "until she found out that Koushirou was also to be in your group."

"Eh?"

"Let's just say that Miyako and Koushirou are not each other's most favorite people this week." Jyou chuckled. "Or, you can say that they are each other's favorite people, and they can't handle it."

I shivered, although the day was warm.

"Iori-kun, are you all right?"

"Yes," I lied.

His eyes hardened. "Don't lie to me, Iori-kun."

"I'm not lying," I lied further.

"What happened to that honest boy that cried when he told a lie?" Jyou asked rhetorically.

"He disappeared into the distance when his life turned upside-down," I retorted angrily.

"Iori-kun, if you're hurting, you can talk to me."

"You don't understand," I shot back at him.

"Yes, I do understand."

Silence.

"My mother died when I was six," he said suddenly.

My chin jerked up. I'd never heard this story before.

"Cancer. She was very young, but she died and I was powerless to help her. Then my father remarried when I was ten. So don't tell me I don't understand, Iori-kun, because I do."

"You never told me this before, Jyou-sempai," I said after a moment's pause for reflection.

He shrugged. "Was it necessary?"

"Yes!"

He gave me a slow smile. "Well, my stepmother and I do get along pretty well. So does my stepbrother Shuu. It doesn't make a difference to me how I got my family members, as long as they are family." His smile stretched and grew. "After all, Iori-kun, you're in my family, too."

---

Dinnertime. I sat at my place at the table. Mr. Ishida was over, as he had for the past few nights.

I didn't mind Mr. Ishida that much. He didn't force me to talk. He didn't ignore me, but he didn't exert himself that much. I had the feeling that he was so in love with my mother, he wouldn't have minded if I had two heads.

Currently, they were discussing wedding plans. Should the wedding be traditional, or Western-style? How soon should it be? (Both of them wanted it soon. I wanted a more traditional estimate, like six more years, but my vote didn't count.) Would Mom continue to work after the wedding?

When Mom and Father got married, I reflected, it was after a respectable amount of time, in a traditional style, and Mom didn't work at all....

"Now," Mom said, and I looked up at her tone of voice. "What do we do about the boys' rooms?"

"Huh?" I asked.

"Well, I was thinking that Takeru could share your room, Iori, and that way Yamato would get your grandfather's old room."

I froze. For a moment, all I could picture was my grandfather's room the way Yamato would have it. The austere elegance of Grandfather's room replaced by the mess that would surely be Yamato's room, rock posters in place of his treasures...

"No."

To my surprise, the word came not from my own lips, but from the throat of Mr. Ishida.

"No, Akemi. I think we're intruding on Iori's life enough without the added pressure of making him share a room -- which he hasn't done his whole life, am I correct?" I nodded wordlessly. "How about Takeru and Yamato share Iori's current room -- I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing -- and Iori take his grandfather's room?"

"Iori, would you be happy with this arrangement?" Mom asked doubtfully.

I nodded again. "Yes, Mom."

Mr. Ishida nodded solemnly. "Good." He looked straight at me and winked. Then he turned back to Mom. "Akemi..."

I excused myself soon afterwards and went back to my room. My room for not much longer, but long enough.

I wanted to do something to distract me from my thoughts. I signed online out of boredom and signed off shortly afterwards out of frustration. There was nothing to do there. I loaded up the RPG I'd been playing, but closed it down a few minutes later. It didn't interest me. I contemplated the TV and shook my head. No.

I couldn't concentrate on anything. My head buzzed with thoughts it couldn't contain. I thought I would explode.

The phone rang. "Iori, it's for you!" called my mom.

I walked down the hall and took it. "Moshi moshi?"

"Iori?" said a soft, unfamiliar female voice.

"Who is this?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

"It's Keiko. Kuraki Keiko."

_Keiko?!_ "Um, hello. Why are you calling?" I questioned her, confused.

"What's our homework in history?"

I looked at the clock. It was nearly eight. Shrugging, I told her it.

"Thank you, Iori."

"No problem, Kuraki-san."

Silence. I prepared to hang up the phone.

"You were very good today," she said suddenly. "In kendo practice. You were good."

"Thank you." Belatedly remembering that she had also practiced hard, I added, "you did well, too."

"Thank you." There was another pause.

"Well, good night, Kuraki-san," I said finally.

"You don't have to call me Kuraki-san, Iori," came her soft reply

"It's polite. I don't know you that well."

"You could change that." she said as she hung up

"Kura -- Keiko -- " I started, but I was speaking to a dial tone. "Huh! That girl!"

"Girl problems, Iori?" said my mother amusedly.

"Oh, you know how it is, I have to beat them off with a stick," I responded airily, and turned back to my room.

"That son of mine," I heard my mother sigh wth a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"My boys say the same thing," Mr. Ishida agreed ruefully. "And they aren't lying."

---

I wonder what dreams are. Are they random neurons firing in your brain? Just remnants of your day being brought together in an unpredictable fashion? Or are dreams something deeper and something precious? Are they your hopes, your wishes, and your fears being woven together into an intricate cloth?

In my private, personal dreams, the ones that I experience when I'm awake and alone, I'm happy. _She_ smiles for me and only me, her eyes wide and kind. All my true friends are by my side. And my father, my father places his hand on my shoulder and says "I'm proud of you, Iori."

In my sleep, I soak my covers in sweat as I suffer alone through my fears. My heart is torn apart and scattered. My friends are taken away from me. I see in perfect detail the deaths of everyone who have ever been important to me.

It's true that dreamers often lie about what they dream. They lie to gain sympathy and pity, or they exaggerate about what they see.

But I see things that are real, at least for the moment. And they frighten me.

---

The next day I was early, resulting in my sharing an elevator with -- surprise! -- Miyako. High school started earlier than the junior high and let out earlier, an unfortunate fact which attributed to our growing distance.

Her school uniform was navy-blue. Her purple hair had been cut to her shoulders, and her glasses had long since been replaced by contacts, leaving her bright brown eyes open. Miyako's face was also painted with makeup, although not as garishly as it had been at the sleepover.

Most of the differences from her self of four years ago were both subtle and obvious. She was taller and thinner, and had a more feminine figure. The most alarming change was the air of...grace?...that surrounded her so completely, I didn't think it would let me in.

But she smiled when she saw me. "Iori! How are you?"

"I'm...I'm fine."

"How have you been?" Her tone was sweet. "I haven't really spoken to you for a while. What's been happening?"

"I'm afraid you know the biggest news in my life," I said.

"Mm, yes." Miyako was silent as we descended. "Hey, Iori, I know what!"

"Eh?"

"We can hang out this afternoon, just like old times!" Her smile was infectious, and so was her laugh. "I'll wait for you, at your school gate. We can walk home together. You don't have anything to do, do you?"

"No." Kendo club was Mondays, and Academic club was on Thursday. "I'd like to be with you, Miyako-san."

"That's good!" The elevator stopped at the ground floor. "Well, I've got to go, I can't be late!" We both walked out of the elevator. "Wait for Takeru, Iori. You can walk to school together. I've got to go, see ya!" She hesitated, then hugged me for too brief a moment. "Stay strong." And she left.

I stood still. If I didn't move, if I barely breathed, I could still feel the touch of her arms, I could still smell her perfume left in the air.

"Hey," Takeru said, appearing out of what felt like nowhere, disturbing my thoughts. "Are you all right, Iori-kun?"

"Yes." I turned my head to look at the boy. Someday, he would be my brother...

No matter how many times I said it to myself, it still seemed like a dream. I still wanted to wake up.

"Yes," I repeated. "Let's go."

---

School was boring. School is always boring. Ask any kid who spends seven or eight hours at school what he did that day, and his default response will be "nothing." The entire school could burn down, and most teens would slump in their seats at the dinner table and say "nothing much happened."

Actually, not much of importance did happen today. In my literature class, we watched a movie on something or other. In History, Keiko received a detention because she didn't have the homework. What's the point of calling me if she didn't use the information I gave her? In Math we got our test scores back. I led the class, as per usual.

At lunch I sat with Daisuke, Hikari, and Takeru again. Daisuke and Hikari did most of the talking. I spent most of the time sneaking surreptitious looks at Takeru, who was usually looking at the sky. Daisuke invited all of us to his next soccer match. While Hikari and I accepted, Takeru refused.

"I'm busy," he said coolly. His true-blue stare swept over me and I felt ashamed, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

---

The final bell rang. I rose up from my desk and joined the crush of students in the hallways. As always, I felt suffocated in the sudden mix of scents. I almost cheered when I was able to fight my way through the jam-packed halls and out into the fresh air of the great outdoors.

I heard whispers from a group of older boys.

"Hey, who's the babe by the gate?"

"A high-schooler.."

"Man, she's pretty!"

"Miyako-san," I whispered under my breath, and felt a glow in my heart. I'd been worried all day that she would stand me up. I shouldn't have worried. I should have trusted in my friend. I should have believed that she, of all people, would remain faithful to me.

Miyako stood on her tip-toes, beautiful and impatient, searching for me. When her eyes focused on me, her eyes lit up. "Iori!" she squealed, waving. "C'mon!"

I blushed and hurried to her, ignoring the jealous looks of the boys who had been drooling over her. "Miyako-san."

"Hey, Iori!" she greeted cheerily. "What's up?"

"Let's walk," I told her.

We walked out of the school grounds and down the street. With little encouragement from me, Miyako started talking about school, and her friends, and the store, and her voice flowed into patterns and rhythms while I listened, not caring about whether I absorbed the content but just reveling in the memories that her familiarity brought.

"But, Iori, I don't think you're interested in that," Miyako said, breaking us both from the spell. "Is anything bothering you?"

The kindness in her voice nearly made me burst into tears. But what could I tell her? Would she understand?

"Let's...let's go to your apartment and talk there," I said quickly.

"All right," she agreed. We walked in a companionable silence until we reached our apartment building. Miyako punched the button in for her apartment floor. We waited in silence as it ascended. Finally, we reached her apartment. She unlocked the door and opened it.

"Iori, call your mother, tell her you'll be staying for dinner. Don't worry, we'll order out!" she said, grinning at my worried face as I recalled former Miyako disasters in the kitchen. "I'm going to go change in my room. Now, no peeking!" she laughed.

I coughed embarrassedly and picked up her phone, dialing my mother's cell.

"Moshi moshi!"

"Hi, Mom?"

"Iori! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Mom, I'm going to be staying at Inoue Miyako's for dinner tonight, is that all right?"

There was a pause. "Ryuichi was going to come over for dinner, and I was going to invite his sons, too."

"We can do that some other time," I said.

"Iori, I want us to eat together as a family."

Family. The word pierced through my mind and made a tightness in my chest.

"Some other time," I repeated.

She gave a sigh. "Fine, Iori. I love you."

"Love you too." I hung up.

Mulling over my mother's sigh, I sat down at the kitchen table and waited for Miyako to appear.

When she did appear, she was in style -- sort of. She'd changed from her school uniform to a pair of faded purple overalls and a bright red t-shirt. Her hair had been tucked under an ancient yellow bandana. Her contacts had been replaced by her familiar old glasses. Much of her makeup had been wiped off.

She looked very much like how she'd used to, when we were younger, when we were children. Nevertheless, there was a sense of falseness, of fakery. Like an actor pretending to be someone he's not, underneath the costume is a different person waiting to storm out. One thing that Miyako will never be is an actress. She's too pure, too sincere. It's hard for her to hide her feelings, despite the polish and grace she's picked up over the years. It made me sick to my stomach to see Miyako acting.

But I couldn't tell her to stop, because it was all for me. She was doing this all for me, spending the day with me, changing her clothes, and I couldn't hurt her feelings by saying "stop." Miyako didn't realize that I knew that she knew that we'd both changed. We were both different people from our childhood selves. Adulthood -- being a teenager, I suppose -- isn't a cloak you throw on and off. It's something that merges into your skin, merges into your very soul and changes you.

So I smiled, and Miyako and I had become sufficiently distant that she didn't realize how fake the expression was. "Looks good, Miyako-san."

"Thanks, Iori." She smiled, started to run a hand through her hair, stopped as she touched the bandana. "Do you want any tea or something?"

"Tea sounds fine."

"Any particular flavor?"

"No, whatever."

Miyako moved to the stove, her back to me, and started heating the water.

"Ne, Miyako-san? What does love feel like?"

The question was out before I could stop it, but I knew it would have come sooner or later. I needed to know, needed to know what it was I felt for Urawa Megumi, needed to know why my mother was acting so differently, needed to understand this strange feeling that was suddenly overtaking my life.

Miyako's the current Keeper of Love and Purity, just like I hold the attributes of Knowledge and Faith. And while I guess I understand how to be smart, how to be faithful and sincere and reliable, they aren't the same attributes as things that are so deep as Love and Purity. Miyako would understand them, and I needed her to tell me what Love was like, so I could know about it...

Miyako turned around sharply. "Iori?" she said curiously. I blushed furiously. "Iori," she continued gently, "is there someone special in your life? Someone you like?" I didn't need to answer. She can tell the truth.

She smiled suddenly. "Love...It's a secret, but I'll tell you." She paused for dramatic effect, and winked. "You can't understand love, can't define it. Not even I can. It's just something you know and understand without words. To put words to it would cheapen it somehow."

"Cheapen..."

"Iori, I think -- no, I _know_ that you're the most rational person I've ever met. So you're already at a disadvantage. Relax. Love isn't rational. Love isn't something you can explain away. Ride it out. Let it change you." Her eyes grew distant for a moment, as if savoring her own experiences. "After all, the worst that'll happen is that she'll say no."

"But I don't want to change!" I burst out. "I don't want to be different!" I don't want to let love control me, I don't want to be moved. I want to stay me. I don't even know precisely what I'm feeling, Miyako-san, you're not helping!

Miyako looked at me in what can be accurately described as pity. "Iori, you think you're in love, but you're afraid to feel?" I reddened at her accuracy. "Baka!" exploded Miyako. "Idiot! You can't be afraid! You've got to be willing to change!"

"Mi--" I started, but the kettle's whistle drowned out my feeble beginning.

"Ohhh!" Miyako steamed as she whirled back around, turning off the flame. She dashed the boiling water into two cups and finished preparing the tea, banding the cups around in such fury I was afraid she might burn herself.

After plunking a cup down in front of me and settling down with her own cup, Miyako exhaled and faced me. "Iori," she started. "Everyone has to change a little, when they get into a relationship. Take Jyou-san and Mimi-chan, for example."

"Hmm?" I said, only half-listening.

"Well, Jyou-san and Mimi-chan are very different people, so when they started dating, they had to compromise on a lot of little things. They had to get used to each other's idiosyncracies." Miyako went on for a while, happy with the sound of her own voice.

At a lull, I said, "I didn't know that Jyou-sempai and Mimi-san were dating until this weekend."

Miyako looked at me in surprise. "You _didn't_?"

"Mm. Are any other Chosen Children dating?" I asked curiously.

"Hmm." Miyako thought for a moment. "Well, Sora-san has dated both Taichi-san and Yamato-san in the past. None of them are dating right now, they're too busy with school and getting ready for college. Jyou-san and Mimi-chan are dating, as you know. Takeru and Hikari are probably dating, but nothing's official. Daisuke and Ken-kun..." She frowned, then laughed. "I haven't been able to figure out their relationship. They'll figure it out, I'm not worried."

"What about Koushirou-san?" I asked.

Miyako wrinkled her nose and made a moue of discontent. "That guy! I have no clue if he's dating anyone, and frankly I don't care." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Unless, of course, you know about who Izumi-sempai's dating..."

"Hardly. And yourself?" I pressed.

"Mimi-chan sets me up with different guys every so often. I'm not worried about finding myself a guy." She adjusted her glasses. "And that leaves you, Iori."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're so reticent, it's hard to figure out if you like anyone at all or not."

"I'm not dating anyone," I said frostily.

Miyako grinned. "But do you liiiike anyone?"

"I -- I'm not telling Radio Miyako!"

"Geez, Iori, it's like you don't trust me at all."

We shifted off the subject and spoke of other things, of school, of friends. I stayed away from the subject of family, and so did she.

She ordered pizza, and I stayed until her parents came home, and then I made some excuse about having to study and left to go back to my own apartment.

My mother's door was locked. I could hear noises coming from inside. A male's voice, and then my mother's laughter. I didn't stay to listen to any more.

I went into my own room, put on my headphones, and turned up the volume on my CD player, listening to the mystical creations of Sakamoto Ryuichi, trying to drown out the pounding of blood within my ears.

What I would have said to Miyako:

I don't believe that love should change a person. I think that love should make you more _you_ -- more comfortable, less anxious. Love should help you, not hinder your development, not stunt you in any way. I don't want to change the person that I am for any girl...

...not even as perfect as a girl as Urawa Megumi.

But still, I want her to notice me. I want her to smile at me. I want...

Maybe I should try to be more outgoing and less reticent. Maybe.

Maybe I'm thinking too much. Maybe I should just let my emotions dictate what I should do next.

Maybe I've forgotten how to let my emotions decide. I'm so cool and rational and logical and dependable, it's hard, sometimes, to unwind and to be free of the constraints on you. Maybe that's why I like kendo so much, it's disciplined.

Maybe I should sleep.

With my headphones still on and the gentle music etching itself into my mind, I fell asleep. I don't remember what dreams I dreamt. I don't remember if I dreamed at all.

The next morning, as I started the morning ritual, I mourned. I mourned for my childhood self and the carefree ways of being young. Even though I've always been mature, I never fully realized how much of the past we leave behind.

Friendships...

The old friendships I had were not completely broken, but torn. It would be up to me to mend them.

Soon.

To Be Continued...

Next part -- hmm, haven't decided yet. ^_^ The soccer match, and time speeds up a little. ^_^