Chapter 2: Play Nice
"Ryuhou-san!"
Crap ... well there was no shaking him now. Kazuma knew that once Kanami saw the former HOLY officer again, she would invite him in and throw the full force of her hospitality at him. And with a welcoming presence, he really wasn't going to leave until he got what he came for.
"Hello Kanami."
"You're just in time for dinner," she beamed and ushered him in. Her alter abilities were apparently very selective at times, even with Kazuma's every thought broadcasting his wish that Ryuhou would just leave she didn't seem to pick up on any reason why she shouldn't welcome him into their home. She had always thought that he and Ryuhou should be friends, she probably convinced herself that this was for his own good.
"Do you like green beans, Ryuhou-san?" Her Japanese had an natural elegant form and it was clear to everyone-- no matter how good her French got-- that this was her native language. As she dragged another chair to the small table Kazuma settled down into his own seat, at least he wouldn't have to feel like he was being tested at dinner tonight.
"Aa, that's fine."
"It's nothing fancy," she warned as she set out the dishes. "But it's good, healthy food."
"It's fine," he smiled warmly at her. "You've made delicious dishes out of much lower quality ingredients in the past, I'm sure what you've prepared is wonderful."
Kazuma was sulking and pushing his rice around the plate. Why did he have to put up with this? He knew that Ryuhou had better manners, more refine tastes, and that Kanami or any other sensible women would prefer his company to Kazuma's, but still ... why did it have to be thrown in his face?
"Kazu-kun, get the salt please?"
He frowned, she was speaking to him in French on top of everything else. Couldn't he escape the inadequacies and self esteem issues that came along with the language for one night? He pointed at Ryuhou accusingly and said "you speak to him in Japanese!"
"Ryuhou-san is a guest," Kanami she said, again in French.
"And isn't it rude to converse in a language he doesn't understand right in front of him?"
"I don't mind."
Kazuma blinked, the words Ryuhou had spoken were not ... of course Ryuhou spoke perfect French. Perfect infliction, not a hint of accent ... life was just cruel and unfair like that.
Kanami was thrilled, "you know French, Ryuhou-san?"
"Aa, I was taught it as a boy."
"Then ... would you mind terribly if we do not use Japanese?"
Ryuhou shrugged, "not at all."
Life was just terribly, terribly unfair. Not only did he have to feel like an idiot, but now he had to feel like an idiot in front of Ryuhou who undoubtedly used it to reinforce his arrogant, superior attitude.
Kanami as usual, was cheerfully oblivious to any reason why this collection of facts should humiliate Kazuma. "Kazu-kun?"
Right ... the salt.
As if he didn't have enough reasons to hate Ryuhou. If Kanami wasn't here he'd--
"Kazu-kun is having trouble with it, he thinks it's impossible to learn it. But I think, if you can do it Ryuhou-san, then certainly he can."
"Well the older you are, the harder it becomes to learn a new language."
"Really?" Kanami turned her head and stared at Kazuma sympathetically, as if she was reconsidering all the pushing she had been doing to get him to learn it. Well Kazuma thought, perhaps he was being silly feeling so threatened by Ryuhou. If his superior education could save Kazuma a little grief, then maybe it was all right.
"Yes, that and Kazuma's an idiot."
Kazuma dropped the salt rudely on the table in front of Ryuhou. "What was that asshole?"
The former HOLY officer tilted his head up casually so that he could meet Kazuma's gaze, "I said you're an idiot."
"Well let's see who's smarter when I crack your skull open--"
Kanami smacked the table hard with a heavy metal spoon, she wasn't a child anymore, she wasn't going to put up with this again. "Stop it. Kazuma sit down."
With a brief 'hmph' Kazuma moved away. He grabbed his chair casually and dragged it to the other side of the table so that he was sitting as far away from Ryuhou as possible. Childish of course, but he wasn't beyond being childish when he was denied all other outlets for his anger.
"We're having dinner," Kanami announced firmly. "Which means no fighting."
"Where is it Kazuma?"
Kazuma looked up at Ryuhou's reflection in the small shabby mirror hanging over his dresser. It was right behind his own reflection, the reflection that always seemed to him a shell of it's former self, dead and tired. "I told you, I don't remember. Do you think I'm lying?"
"I certainly wouldn't put it past you."
"I assume that the location of the stupid thing does not determine the fate of the rest of the world? Nor is it information that is critical to the independence of the Lost Grounds?"
"No ... it's personal."
"Yeah ... I was told as much about it."
There was a distant clinking sound that echoed through the back of his mind. It was such a soft sound ... without rhythm, the light purr of metal sliding over metal. He shifted a little, wanting to roll over but not being able to disregard the constant throbbing in his arm even in the warm blanket of unconsciousness. The sound of metal tumbled softly, making a little sound like sparkling raindrops and he felt something cold brush his skin.
He groaned ... he couldn't help it, his arm hurt so much. He had overdone it yet again, and perhaps all things considered he was extremely fortunate to be alive. His thoughts drifted to Ryuhou on instinct, but could not recall what kind of condition the other man had been left in...
They had ran into each other again.
There had been a fight.
Things got pretty messy.
As he reached down to touch the swollen gash in his chest and the tender deep bruises around his torso he corrected himself, very messy.
And that was all he could remember...
His senses were slowly returning to him, enough for his mind to flash an instant conclusion without having to see it. He was shackled to something, the cold metal feeling and soft sound was a length of chain brushing against his back, the tight surrounding embrace on his wrists and his neck was a thick collar of steal.
Great...
He opened his eyes, the lighting was too bright to be a HOLY cell even though-- were he in the condition to do so-- Ryuhou would have dragged his carcass back to HOLD like a cat bringing a mouse proudly to its master. The man was like his Alter, bounded, restrained, controlled. No arms, a masked face and metal ribbons that could strike with terrible efficiency. Directly to the point ... yes, people definitely were like their Alters. Ryuhou was what one would call a civilized man, driven to civility to an insane degree Kazuma figured. Did he have any idea how hard it was to push him past his rules and justice? Even so consumed by hate, he was still the type of man Kazuma hated. He loathed the very thought of becoming a man who spirit was restrained.
No ... that wasn't how human beings were supposed to be, empty shells chained by rules and codes. Humans were suppose to fight.
This was not Ryuhou's style.
So if not HOLY ... then what? There were slave traders roaming the lands of the Lost Grounds outside the city, but not even the most ignorant slave trader would pick up an obvious Alter User. And he was certain, that if nothing else, that the state he was in when he passed out made it obvious he was an Alter User
He blinked, and slave traders certainly wouldn't be kind enough to find him a bed. Well ... not a bed precisely, but an old mattress covered with sheets and blankets. Still, it was better than what he had at home in many regards
He had enough slack on his chains to sit up and rub his eyes. They chuckled playfully as the links clanked together, perhaps the foolish things were laughing at him. What kind of Alter User can be kept like this anyway? Steel was among the strongest of metals, but that made little difference when atoms shifted under his touch.
He looked around the room-- nothing much to it aside from the mattress on the floor he had found himself on ... a small table across the room with another smaller mat, but little else. There was no one here, captor or fellow prisoner a like. He felt it might be time to go, as much as he wanted to confront his captor he was in pretty bad shape.
Metal opened up easily to him, he just reached out to it on instinct. He couldn't explain the process really, it was just something that happened. Or should have happened at least, instead he found himself recoiling in the face of a pain so sharp he had to bite his lip to keep his cry down to a low grunt. His arm went completely stiff as if it had suddenly been turned to stone, but he was denied the luxury of numbness.
No, his body had decided, that was not happening
So he was staying for now...
He had twisted himself towards the wall; no matter how hard he tried he could not get the muscles in his arm to relax. His already injured arm was rebelling against him, a master that had been so abusive in so many ways. Although he could tell his Alter was destroying him, he wouldn't stop ... maybe he had betrayed his body, maybe it had a right to betray him now.
Kazuma barely felt the two fingers on his torture forearm through all the pain, but the cooling touch brought instant relief that flooded through him. In a sudden cold flash the pain was gone.
He gasped at the almost disarmingly sudden release and reared about like a caged and defensive animal.
"You... You're that woman from before..." Recognition was instantaneous. His body relaxed and he settled out of his battle posture into one that was more comfortable and better suited the little threat she posed to him.
"Sherrice Adjourni" she frowned. "HOLY officer, communication's divis--"
"Yeah, yeah ... don't go on about it like that." Kazuma sighed. "I really don't have the patience to listen to a woman like you now."
She yanked hard on the chain around his neck, smacking him back down and nearly choking him.
Kazuma gagged, coughing violently to shake the strain on his throat. He growled and dug his nails into the soft cloth below him. She may be a woman ... but in order to be in HOLY she must have some form of Alter... So then maybe she should learn to deal with the consequences of her actions just the same as if she were--
"You're 'the Alter User who will do any job for money' right?"
"What about it?"
"NP3228--"
He grabbed her with his left hand by the collar. When he was angry, he always found himself overlooking the large insults in favor for the smaller things of which he seemed to be much more sensitive to. He was not concerned that she had chained him to the wall. "Don't call me that, that's not my goddamn name."
"I have a job for you."
If nothing else he was distantly impressed by her continence. She was not afraid of him, not in the slightest. True it made him want to show her that he was not to be underestimated, not to be labeled or categorized ... but for a woman, he could respect it just a little.
When the full weight of what she had said was realized he released her and laughed as much as his body would let him for the moment. "Crazy woman..."
"Are you saying you're not the Alter criminal that will do anything for money?"
"That depends, is HOLY manufacturing crime now?"
She sat back on her heels and let go of the chain around his neck. "This is not a HOLY operation, it's a personal one."
"I see ... that's why we're here then, instead of in HOLD headquarters."
"Yes."
"What's the job?"
She regarded him carefully, not taking any measures to hide her skepticism or her low opinion. "So you'll do it?"
He shrugged with a sly smile: he be a fool if he didn't find the turn of events amusing and an outright idiot if he didn't at least examine this opportunity to settle his score with HOLY. The vehicle for revenge was unique and ironic, but there's no better method of revenge is there? "Depends what it is."
"I want you to return that disk you helped to steal before."
Ah Jesus he should have seen that one coming. He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "You're pretty thick skulled over their aren't you? I. Don't. Know. Where. It. Is."
"Then find it," Sherrice insisted.
"If HOLY wants it so bad, let HOLY use their resources to find it."
"We're not allowed to. We've been ordered to leave things as they are."
He blinked, "oh? Then what's the problem--"
"Whatever's on that disk is very important to Ryuhou, but he won't disregard orders to find it... You'll be paid well."
He didn't need that, the opportunity to best Ryuhou even in something this small was temptation enough. The money just sweetened the deal. Jobs were getting pretty scarce now that things were getting turbulent among the Inners. Their cabinets were going bare back home, and Kanami could not do enough work on the farm to earn food that wasn't available.
There was really no reason not to.
He couldn't get a good grip on the breath in his throat. It kept slipping out of his lungs in tiny airy gasps ... slippery and hot ... his muscles trying to hold pace with the rest of his body, yet seemingly unable to keep his need for oxygen satisfied.
He wasn't really sure why it was happening, or even if it was right that it should happen, but he couldn't bring himself to stop it. He felt better than he had in months. He felt alive and warm and ... overwhelmed by a pulsating need to fight, to win and to reach the release that such things brought.
"... I swear to God if you stop I'll kill you."
Ryuhou snorted, "as if you could."
Kazuma craned his neck up, "you wanna go?" he challenged, boldly drawing his hand into a fist. Their fight had turned into this, it could easily go back. And he felt he could probably be happy with either way.
As long as it didn't stop. As long as things didn't go back to the stagnating peace, he could be happy with things either way.
Ryuhou's hand slipped up his throat, grabbing his jaw with an almost possessive causality. He kissed more with his teeth and tongue than his lips, rough and shaky as if he was breathing through them. Kazuma didn't mind, there were certain things only a man can understand about another, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to fight back. On the contrary, he knew that this was not a digression of love, nor affection, nor even attraction really, this was about the fight. They had successfully exhausted all the conventional ways and means of fighting long ago, and they had nothing left save for surrendering to a pointless cycle that would make both of them miserable or finding new methods.
Either way, the conflict was all based on the same shaking foundation, they had plenty desire to fight but no desire to bring harm. Not anymore at least.
After a while the life have been drained out of their battles. Kazuma could not help-- even with the passionate anger boiling up inside himself at the very sight of Ryuhou-- being taunted by the possibility that any one of those battles could be an end. That one of them would have given all that was left to give and that there would finally be a winner.
There may have been a time once when that thought wasn't quite so scary. Although the concept of final supreme victory was a seductive one in principle, he knew that what he really loved was the struggle. He knew that neither one of them would stop, that only death would admit defeat ... and perhaps even then...
Although he loathed to admit it, a part of him had become fond of Ryuhou. It was only a tentative affection for the feeling of companionship and understanding ... trust and hot blooded excitement that he felt occasionally in the other man's company. But it was enough for Kazuma to know, even in the mist of the rage Ryuhou could build him up into, that he didn't really want to kill him.
Maybe beat the living daylights out of him, but not kill or likewise be in any way responsible for the circumstances that might lead to death. And he knew that should it turn out that way, it really would hurt quite a bit to lose him.
In fact, he'd probably never get over it.
Once he had realized that, his will to risk the pain for a fleeting battle faded. And in a very real sense Kazuma had been defeated through death. His physical body had survived but a part of him was dead and gone. It wouldn't get up to fight anymore.
Kanami took him back so easily... And when he suggested that they let Ryuhou worry about the Lost Ground's independence and just leave, she didn't bother to ask him why he would do such a hypocritical thing.
He hadn't asked himself either. He grabbed Ryuhou's shoulder roughly and threw him off, pinning his arms to the ground as he leaned over the dark haired man. "Don't touch me like that."
"Will you make up your mind you already?"
"Who said I changed my mind huh? You just don't have the right to touch me like that."
"We'll see."
Kazuma opened his eyes slowly-- or eye at least-- everything hurt, literally everything. What had happened last night had been ... interesting to say the least. Sex with Ryuhou apparently was almost exactly like fighting with Ryuhou, violent, angry, exciting, painful...
For both of them Kazuma was proud to admit. Still ... the incident had not been entirely unpleasant. He had actually kind of enjoyed it in some ridiculously perverse way, and he felt strangely satisfied. Not just in 'that way' but...
After a certain length of exposure to battle and struggle, soldiers can only be soldiers. Ryuhou had long passed that point, and he could not help finding the life Mimori or even his own family offered him dissatisfying. Kazuma was the same way. This, a battle without the moral weight of mass destruction, a battle without drastic consequence, a battle in which-- oddly enough they both seemed to win and lose at the same time-- was satisfying. It felt good to have someone who understood all that.
Slowly, and taking great care not to let his movements make a sound he reached over towards the dark haired man sleeping silently beside him. He pushed a lock of hair away from the skin of his neck and calmly, gently, wrapped his fingers around Ryuhou's throat.
Ryuhou's eyes snapped open as his hand slid under Kazuma and threw him clear off the bed. Kazuma landed with a harsh clumsy "thump"-- his normal cat like graces apparently not kicking in on time.
"Ow! Watch it!" he shouted as he pulled himself off the floor.
"If you don't want to be splattered against the wall, don't try to kill me in my sleep."
"I wasn't trying to kill you I was trying to strangle you, pay back for last night."
Ryuhou shot him an incredulous look.
"There's a difference, were you trying to kill me?"
"...yes."
"Well that's just cold Ryuhou. Not like you could kill me, but still, cold. I'm almost hurt."