Disclaimer: As a distraction for when I run away with all the characters mentioned in this fanfic which don't belong to me, I'm gonna put Legolas at the front of the room wearing nothing but tap shoes and a rather skimpy thong in an off-shade of green. It never fails. Now tap, Elf Man, TAP! BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Oh that crazy guy that looks like Link. . .



Rating: It's still rated R for mature situations, violence, language that's not quite the cleanest ever, and gratuitous use of the exclamation mark!!!!! You see, it's already started!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Author's Notes: Chapter 6 took much longer than I expected. I have no idea why. . . but it did. Perhaps the fact it was the longest chapter yet contributes to the time problem. ^^;; Hopefully, Chapter 7 won't take as long to write, but I can't guarantee anything. I've been trying to make the updates as close together as possible, but with the next semester starting tomorrow, I have no idea how long it will take. I'll try to be as quick as I can! ^_^ Special thanks goes to Naomi Athena for her wonderful help on this chapter. I honestly had no idea what this chapter was gonna be like until a couple nights ago when I talked to Nao-chan. O_O Domo arigato gozaimasu, Nao-chan! ^.^



That said, here now begins Chapter 7 of the fanfic entitled. . .





Pandora





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The boy before him was apparently a restless sleeper; considering what he had heard the now unconscious kendoist choking out, Ranma had a faint idea as to why. A thin sheet of cold sweat covered Kuno as he tossed and turned in his sheets, his fists clenching and unclenching in a sporadic manner, grunts and sharp breaths escaping his lips every once in a while. Whatever he was dreaming of, it certainly wasn't pleasant.

Ranma Saotome, who had finally managed to get his hands on some hot water, watched, transfixed, as his rival twitched and moved in his deep slumber. The pigtailed martial artist's thoughts ran through his head at a lightning pace, trying to organize and explain what he had saw back in the empty classroom not too long ago. From Ranma's experience in dealing with Kuno, he'd never once seen the Blue Thunder show the ability to control or use chi in any way, shape or form; besides, whatever Kuno was giving off back in the classroom was definitely not of chi origin. Ranma had something of a sixth sense when it came to chi; his ability to sense it within himself or another person was impeccably keen, and he had never once seen any of the martial energy in the kendoist. He didn't recognize it as the start of any of the techniques he or the other Nerima regulars had learned, so Kuno's little episode in the class was a definite mystery to the cursed boy. He had to find out what it was; especially if it could be a threat to him later on.

The door opposite of the chair Ranma was sitting in clicked open, shaking the black haired teenager out of his thoughts. Standing in the doorway were none other than Akane Tendo and her older sister Nabiki, both with looks of annoyance and perhaps a hint of concern apparent on their faces, Akane more so than Nabiki. The older brunette was never one for showing her emotions; always wearing the poker face, it was exceptionally good when it came to matters of the mind, such as her precious collection of exploited money. The problem was that she got so used to it, it simply stayed plastered on her face, especially after the untimely death of Mrs. Tendo. Emotions hidden deep within and swept away by a torrent of mistrust and scheming, Nabiki Tendo was quite the emotional mystery to even those who closely knew her. Akane, on the other hand, was one for wearing her mind on her sleeve; usually manifesting itself in the form of a mallet on the head or some other such form of physical brutality. While Nabiki's sly looks somewhat unnerved Ranma, he was thankful that her face couldn't beat him six ways from Sunday; Akane was more than enough in that department.

"So what's all this about, Ranma?" Akane asked, her voice depicting exactly how perturbed she was. Her hands resting comfortably and imposingly on her hips, Akane stared down the pigtailed boy sitting in the chair, the blue haired girl's eyes burning holes into Ranma's skull. Akane, always the jealous type; although this time, Ranma wasn't really sure as to why.

"Hmm, what happened to Kuno-baby?" Nabiki inquired, her attention diverted from the predictable fight that was likely to ensue to the boy lying on the cot before her. Sunlight fell in soft rays on his muscular form, his violent thrashings and movements slowly diminishing to a slight twitching movement here and there in his arms and legs.

"What did you do to Kuno this time?" the tomboy, still staring at her reluctant fiancee, demanded in the same tone of voice. Ranma put up his hands in front of his face in a protective manner, attempting to calm Akane down before she had one of her patented tantrums in the clinical ward of the school.

"I didn't do anything to him; something really weird happened," Ranma tried to explain without upsetting the short haired girl any more or earning himself a good whacking with her mallet. Giving him a skeptical look and crossing her arms over her chest, Akane was somewhat backing down from the thought of pummeling her fiancee again. Sighing once, Ranma got up from his sitting position and stood above Akane's height, glancing at the sleeping kendoist out of the corner of her eye.

"It was strange, I think something happened to his sister," Ranma began, placing his right hand on his hip, scrutinizing Kuno, "but that's not the weird part. It's really hard to explain; it's almost as if he had this battle aura, but I couldn't sense any chi from him."

"You're not making much sense, Ranma," Akane said, now more confused than she was before.

"It doesn't make much sense, Akane. But it is Kuno, who knows what it could be?" Ranma retorted, more of an edge in his voice than intended. He supposed it was a sort of infused reaction when talking with the mostly violent tomboy, even though he didn't mean it a lot of the time. He was a martial artist, and was trained to be one; a people person he was not.

Nabiki, meanwhile, kept relatively silent the entire time; her eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of the sleeping boy's breast. Leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, Nabiki simply watched and contemplated - something she did quite often. The girl almost laughed despite herself; he really did look innocent and cute when he slept, with his eyes slightly scrunched up like that, and his hand curled over his blankets. It was an interesting change from the normally serious and aggressive Tatewaki she had known most of her life; it was actually an almost welcomed change. He turned again in his sleep, his face knotted in an expression of worry, his right hand balled in a fist around his covers, bringing the stark white sheets up to his chin. Her eyes making their way up to his face, Nabiki noticed for the first time that the hand by his face was bandaged, with small but dark patches of red beginning to soak through. There was also a rather nasty cut under his eye. . .

"You sure you didn't do anything, Ranma?" Nabiki asked in a disbelieving tone, her deep brown eyes looking at her classmate in an emotion that was quite foreign to the mercenary girl's face - concern. Kuno turned over once again in his slumber, his hand that had once so possessively held the sheets in his grasp now falling limp by his side. His yukata top was mostly open, showcasing white bandages wrapped around the boy's mid-section, hints of blood soaking through, and ugly shades of bluish-blackish-purplish skin peeking through the more translucent parts of the gauze tape. It looked awfully severe. She bent her head so she could look Ranma straight in the eyes.

"I told you Nabiki," Ranma began, clearly exasperated, "I didn't do noth-" Ranma's defense plea was cut off abruptly by a sharp cry, coming from the direction of where Kuno was laying. Turning their heads around, the two Tendo sisters and Ranma saw the Blue Thunder tossing his head from right to left, his face drawn in an expression of pain, anger and what could almost be described as fear. His arms and hands were reaching out to nothing, outstretched before him and searching for something, but finding only empty air. Whatever the distressed boy was saying in his feverish sleep, it was incomprehensible to the teenagers surrounding him; still, the violent convulsing continued and worsened.

"Calm him down somehow!" Akane cried, not sure what to do in the situation. Nabiki didn't know either; she certainly was no martial artist and wasn't strong enough to hold him down. Instead, she quickly told the other two present with her that she was going to find a nurse. In the mean time, Ranma stepped forward, his strong arms outstretched, trying to protect himself in case Kuno's flailing got really out of hand. Tentatively, he placed his left hand on one of the kendoist's now bare and well muscled arms, and recoiled in a matter of seconds.

"Yeowch!" Ranma explained, cradling his hand close to his chest, sucking on one of his fingers.

"What happened, Ranma?" Akane asked worriedly, making sure to keep her strong hands on the cloth of Kuno's robe; it was still extremely warm.

"His skin, when I touched it, it was hot as fire!" Ranma exclaimed, his finger still cooling in his mouth, and watching as a strange, crimson aura began to flare out around Kuno's body, encasing the boy in a translucent, red glow. Akane stepped back, taking in the spectacle before her with disbelieving eyes as the cardinal, almost fire-like ambience licked out towards the immediate vicinity, crackling and burning angrily, trying to devour an invisible enemy. Tatewaki's upper body was slowly lifted up by the pure force of whatever translucent, ruby atmosphere that encased him. There was a strangled sound coming from Kuno's throat, like he was trying to say something, but couldn't quite form the words necessary. With a great gasp, he fell back on the bed, the red aura slowly dissipating, leaving the boy with a thick layer of sweat glistening on his body. His breathing was ragged, strained and sounded dangerously shallow; his eyes were clenched tightly, as was his grip on his wrinkled bed sheets. Kuno's yukata was plastered to his skin, soaked completely through with his own perspiration, the bangs on his forehead no different.

Seconds later, Nabiki came in with the resident nurse; in fact, the same nurse that had first treated Kuno's high fever. Her eyebrows knotted in concern and her delicate hands carrying a tray full of assorted liquids and sharp pointy things that looked none to pleasant, she briskly walked over to the distressing boy in the bed, effectively shooing Ranma and Akane out of the way. Pressing her palm against Kuno's forehead for a moment, she hurriedly plucked one of an assortment of needles on the sterilized tray, also taking with her a small vial of transparent liquid. Soaking the tip of the needle with a cotton swab full of rubbing alcohol, she expertly stuck the point of the instrument into the vein in Kuno's arm, dispensing whatever medicine was inside the needle into the kendoist's bloodstream. After a few moments, Kuno's breathing started to regulate, and his tossing and turning slowly began to subside. With a great and heavy sigh, Tatewaki's body finally relaxed on the soft mattress, which creaked slightly under the new weight placed on it. For a moment, all in the room stood silently and looked at the boy on the bed.

"What did you give him?" Akane asked quietly. The nurse, wiping a few arrant strands of black hair out of her eyes and tucking them safely behind her ears, picked up the tray once more and stood up.

"It's just a sedative. He was probably having a fever induced nightmare or something like that; don't worry, he should be fine," she assured them, smiling an award-winning grin that simply wreaked of maternal nurturing. She instructed that one of the people in the room should stay with him while he slept, in case something else happened; the nurse explained that currently she was the only one on duty, and there were other sick kids that needed caring. With that, the nurse, tray in hand, walked out of the starkly decorated room, the only sound to be heard in the hallway was the clacking of the maternal woman's hard shoes on the tile floor.

There was another beat of silence.

"Judging by the looks in your faces, something tells me I missed something very important," Nabiki surmised in a demanding yet smooth tone, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

"I'm just as confused by everything as you are, Nabiki. I mean, when you got a fever, your skin doesn't burn ya to the touch," Ranma breathed, his voice showing hints of bewilderment, but mostly of tiredness. Nabiki seemed quite surprised.

"Burned you? That really shouldn't be medically possible," the short haired brunette stated, her cross-armed stance remaining, although faltering somewhat. Ranma sighed and shook his head.

"I know, but Akane saw it too." Said fiancee nodded in agreement.

"Ranma, speaking of which, we can't stay with Kuno. We've got a big test after lunch, remember?" Akane said, placing her hands on her hips and looking at the slumbering teen on the bed. Ranma's face flinched.

"Damn, I forgot! Shoot, didn't study neither," Ranma griped. Akane smirked, which somewhat annoyed the pigtailed martial artist.

"Since when did you study for school anyway?" Akane teased, knowing it would milk a reaction from Ranma; she simply couldn't resist. Ranma gave a rather haughty 'hmpf', yet still had one of his trademarked arrogant smiles on his face.

"Well, at least where I'm not good at repeating exactly when the shogunate came to power, I make up in martial arts," Ranma concluded, crossing his arms over his chest quite proudly. Akane sighed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'stupid pervert'.

"I'll stay with Kuno baby," Nabiki said, looking at Tatewaki who was now sleeping relatively peacefully. Both Ranma and Akane were waiting for some sort of sarcastic comment or the addition of Nabiki's world-famous phrase 'for a price', however nothing of such came. Instead, Nabiki seemed to be fascinated with the boy before her, Nabiki's deep chocolate eyes set in a peculiar way.

"I mean, since the nurse said one of us had to stay, and you two lovebirds just can't miss that test. Kami knows how important your studies are to you," she quickly added, making sure to emphasize on her sarcastic 'lovebird' comment. Relieved and annoyed at the same time that Nabiki was her old self, Akane and Ranma started to leave the hospital wing, when suddenly the blue haired tomboy realized something.

"What do you mean, 'lovebirds'?" she asked, a hint of anger slipping into her voice which she was trying to keep calm, albeit poorly. Nabiki simply winked. Akane, letting out an aggravated sigh, stomped out of the hospital room, miraculously not breaking or hitting anything/one. Ranma simply shook his head and followed his fiancee out of the room, grabbing his school briefcase and closing the door relatively quietly behind him. Nabiki listened to the martial artist's feet padding along the tiles of the school floor, running to catch up to Akane, until the sound of footsteps faded into nothingness. Smiling lopsidedly and placing her hands on her hips, Nabiki muttered 'kids' under her breath, shaking her head in a fond sort of way. Both Akane and Ranma could be trying sometimes, but at other times they could actually get along quite well; Nabiki figured it was the whole pressure of the engagement between them that made them fight like starving dogs over a piece of meat, and she knew her father was certainly no help in that area. Running her hand through her short, soft hair, she turned around to face a still dozing Kuno, comfortably asleep on the bed. Nabiki pulled up a chair beside the cot, made herself as comfortable as possible, and searched the room for any form of entertainment other than watching the kendoist sleep. Scanning the room, she found it was relatively empty and, of course, devoid of amusement; the only thing close to it was a rather nice painting of a pale yellow carnation that hung on the wall, but the appeal lasted for all of ten seconds. Exhaling her breath noisily in disdain, Nabiki turned her face back to Tatewaki, slumped in the chair, and rested her head in her hand, propped up by the chair's armrest. All was quiet for that time, save the few birds twittering outside.

"Are they gone?" a soft yet richly deep voice inquired, the voice cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter. Nabiki's slowly drooping head snapped up, recognizing the voice quite easily.

"Kuno?" she asked. He still looked asleep; his breathing was deep and regular, and his eyes were closed. She looked intently at him. Indeed, it was his lips that moved.

"I said, are they gone?" he repeated once more, but not in a tone of anger as such a tone of question. Nabiki didn't really know how to respond.

"You mean Ranma and Akane? Yeah, they left," she replied, a bit confused. Watching him all the while, Tatewaki's eyes slowly opened, staring at the ceiling above him, never moving another muscle. Eyeing him strangely, Nabiki crossed her arms over her chest in a rather defensive, if not haughty, position.

"Were you awake all this time?" Nabiki asked, a bit incredulous, but being careful not to let it show in her voice.

"Perhaps," he answered calmly, never once looking at Nabiki, but continuously staring up at the ceiling. His tone seemed detached and almost apathetic.

"How come you didn't want to talk to Akane?" Instead of responding with words, Kuno simply rolled over onto his side, his back now facing Nabiki, his eyes staring out the window to the world outside. Nabiki heard a soft grunt of pain from the kendoist; Nabiki figured it was from whatever the nasty bruise was on his stomach. Nabiki arched her eyebrow.

"What's the matter, Kuno baby? Don't wanna talk to li'l Nabiki?" the brown haired girl asked in her best 'I'm innocent and sassy and I'll bite your head off if you try anything funny' tone, trying to start a nice, normal bickering fight; one that they usually had on a daily basis. The silence was unsettling for Nabiki; usually her Kuno baby wouldn't shut up, spouting either poetry or claims that he would defeat 'that wretched Saotome' or proclaiming his undying love for either the Akane, the Pigtailed Girl, or openly wishing both.

This wasn't happening, and that certainly wasn't right to Nabiki. Without being able to see his face, the money loving Tendo couldn't read his expressions, which was part of the reason she loved arguing with him so much. Sometimes he would make the most ridiculous faces without even realizing it; she found it hard to keep her cool, calm demeanor around him now and then when he went off on a tangent about this, that or the other thing. It was something akin to fun; the fact that Nabiki usually won their battle of wits and clever insults was almost of no consequence to it.

"If I did not want to talk to you, I would not have woken up, would I have Nabiki Tendo?" Kuno implored quietly, his low voice reverberating softly against the white of the walls, faintly absorbed by the simple white drapes that hung loosely over the open window. A cool breeze wafted in, ruffling the boy's hair, creating a liquid-like sea of rich chestnut on his about-turned head; like waves they lapped the shores of Kuno's neck and forehead, dripping about his now closed and, from Nabiki's point of view, unseen grey eyes. Blinking in surprise but recovering quickly, the middle Tendo daughter shifted in her relatively uncomfortable chair so her feet were up on the nearby end table and her hands were clasped safely and firmly behind her head, getting herself into a halfway comfortable and laid-back position.

"Okay then, let's hear you talk Kuno baby. As you said, you woke up," she stated dryly, her usual tone of bemusement and lethargy creeping in bits back into her smooth voice. Sitting prettily and, in a complete contrast with other girls of her age and good looks, intelligently, Nabiki awaited Kuno's answer to her intoned question. There was a long and rather uncomfortable fit of silence raging in the small white room for a few moments. She heard the kendoist in the bed before her expel a breath cacophonously.

"Then I suppose that was my mistake," he muttered, just loud enough for Nabiki to hear without having to strain her ears too terribly. This caused a spark of interest and renewed concern in said lounging woman; she peered down at her classmate, her face molding itself for a split second into a rather confused expression before resolving once more into the trusty poker face that was Nabiki Tendo.

"Kuno, you're acting really strangely. What's going on with you? Start by telling me how you got those injuries," Nabiki asked, now in a more demanding tone. She was deeply troubled by the way one of her best clients. . . one of her friends, was behaving, and Nabiki hated to be left in the dark, especially by one Tatewaki Kuno.

"I was in a fight with Saotome when I received these injuries," Kuno responded, albeit flatly, almost as if it was a rehearsed line that he had memorized to be repeated when told. Nabiki scoffed.

"I was already talking with Ranma. He said that you guys didn't fight today. Try again, Kuno baby," Nabiki said, smiling slyly. Content with the fact that she had seen through Kuno's rather poorly constructed lie and safe in the knowledge that he was going to have to confess to her what was really going on, Nabiki leaned back further in the hard chair she was seated in, letting herself slide down somewhat.

Then again, technically, Kuno wasn't lying. Tatewaki knew that he had indeed gotten the gash under his right eye from a Ranma Saotome; although one that was still lingering in his psyche and brought out in his nightmarish meditation session. A murderous Ranma Saotome. A very, very evil Ranma Saotome that, as much as he hated to admit it, still lived somewhere in his mind, tucked away until the next time Kuno's weary eyes fell shut and he entered into another sleep of torments.

'But of course' he thought sourly, 'Nabiki Tendo knows all. Why disagree and try explain when she knows she's always right? Let sleeping dogs lie, I suppose.' Quiet once again hung heavy in the room's atmosphere; the boy lost in his thoughts, the girl trying to analyze said boy to the best of her abilities. He was like a blank slate to her with his back turned, though, which annoyed Nabiki greatly.

"I would rather not explain my current condition to you right now, Nabiki," Kuno choked out, unconsciously trying to curl up into as tiny a ball as possible. His face, safely hidden from the middle Tendo's view, contorted into visage of pain as Kuno listened to his own injured ribs grind against each other in a symphony of agony; the torturous music shooting through his nerves and all throughout his body, emitting a grunt of pain through his clenched teeth despite his best efforts to quell it.

Ever since he was little, Tatewaki had been taught that showing your pain and weakness to another person - never mind Nabiki Tendo, of all the human race - was of great shame and dishonour. The absolute worst disgrace, though, was crying; something that Kuno hated to do yet, despite how much he tried, he couldn't hold back his flood of tears in front of one of the only people he really loved - his Pigtailed Girl. She had witnessed Kuno as nothing but a blubbering wreck; someone weak, someone unworthy of being a true man. Time and time again he had tried to prove his manliness to his loves Akane and The Pigtailed Girl, how he could provide for them and protect them in their hours of need. . . yet there he was, on that damned windowsill, being consoled by the red-haired goddess for being weak and pathetic.

Kuno didn't want her pity. Certainly, the last thing he wanted was for Akane Tendo to see him in such a fragile and decrepit disposition either; having the Pigtailed Girl as a beholder of his weakness was horrid as it is, but for Akane to show her goddamned pity and Ranma Saotome there to laugh at him and berate him even more and steal his loves away from him while he watched, pathetic and vulnerable, unable to do anything to stop him. . .

Nabiki had stayed, Kuno's mind transmitted to him, in an effort to slow the beating of his heart, which had suddenly risen during Tatewaki's assessment of himself in relation to those around him. The logical, underused part of his brain began to kick in, as if to draw attention away from his volatile, emotional self and into safe, analytical ground. Unconsciously, Kuno chewed at his bottom lip as the gears in his mind turned, double-tasking at shutting out the pain in his abdomen and his raging emotions. Kuno found it strange how, suddenly, he was extremely aware of the emotions he was feeling, and how he could almost segregate them entirely from his being. Despite the fact that Kuno could actually separate his logic from his feelings, it was an extreme mental strain, and such clear, rational thinking wouldn't be sustained for long. In this case, the heavy silence which again invaded the room was his friend.

Welcomed by the injured boy, silence rolled into the room like it owned the placed, filling up every crevice of all corners of the hospital-like room, taking up all the space and successfully driving Nabiki slowly to madness. The girl had long since gotten out of her 'relaxed' position, settling for a more business-like look, with her legs crossed over one another, and her hands clenching within her lap. Although untrained in the use of chi energy, tenseness and frustration clearly licked all through Nabiki's aura, slowly building up. Nabiki hated the fact that Kuno was completely in charge with this particular exchange and that he wasn't being very responsive; more so, Nabiki could sense the fact that something was rather amiss with the kendoist she had known most of her life, and while many strange things happened to her and her family daily, it was more in a ridiculous, fun sense, and Nabiki could take full advantage of it. This situation seemed not to be ridiculous, fun, or easily exploited. There was something that ran deeper, and Nabiki was itching to find out. She couldn't wait any longer.

"Kuno, tell me what's the matter with you. I can make it worth your while," Nabiki began, starting with her basic and most solid stance on deception; promises, promises, and more promises, "in fact, I have some new and rather skimpy pictures of both Akane and The Pigtailed Girl. I can sell them to you for half price if you tell me what's eating you."

"I am not interested, now please stop bothering me," Kuno replied in a detached tone, his voice melancholy and monotonous, a far cry from his decidedly usual self. Nabiki scowled in frustration, but decided to push the envelope a little further. The boy was bound to crack soon, like he always did.

"Are you sure, Kuno baby? I have them right here in my school bag. I may even consider a third of your normal price," the Tendo daughter retorted slyly, reaching into her school briefcase and pulling out a couple choice snapshots of a wet and angry Ranma running topless through the women's bath, chasing a guilty-looking Happosai with a bag of stolen panties slung around his back. Kuno decided to give it a quick glance over his shoulder before settling back into his previous position.

"I said I am not interested Nabiki Tendo," he stated evenly; a venomous sort of edge was oozing its way into Kuno's voice, trickling down his throat ever so slowly and cementing its dangerous presence inside his vocal chords. Although deflated slightly, Nabiki decided not to heed Kuno's request and push a little farther. Surely he couldn't resist the photos; it was always easy money for Nabiki, and Kuno hadn't seen any problems with it. She knew that just one more push would probably do it. Leaning forward and closer to Kuno with a fistful of snapshots in hand, Nabiki began to speak once more.

"I can also give you a set of five for less than your regular charge," the girl said slyly, smiling to herself. Sets always seemed to perk Kuno up. . . in more way than one, Nabiki surmised.

"No, Nabiki. Now please, leave me alone!" Still, he did not turn around, and although he tried to keep a steady and even tone, the hard edge definitely increased. It sounded almost as if he was trying to concentrate on something else.

She was a bit perturbed, but certainly not defeated. Nabiki Tendo never lost a money deal; this time was going to be no different, she was assured. Biting her lip and pulling out a rather racy set of pictures, Nabiki figured that, aside from the fact she would be making more money, she would be able to establish a sort of common ground between the two. Although she was used to the extraordinary taking place in her house, this new side of Kuno really troubled her. This time the pictures would work, and Kuno would start to pay up the yen. It would all work out; Nabiki, the problem solver slash money mongrel, always made sure it did and that it made a profit for her. The brunette sifted through her newly found photos; no man, mind Kuno, would be able to say no to these.

"Alright, then how about these lovely photos of both your Pigtailed Goddess and Akane together in some very interesting poses that I think yo-"

"I SAID NO, NOW LEAVE ME BE!" he suddenly screamed, whirling around to face the middle Tendo daughter. His eyes were ablaze, and Nabiki could've sworn that his naturally cool grey eyes were tinted with a fiery orange. Nabiki jumped back in her chair, giving out a frightened yelp as she did so, noticing that a faint but positively blazing aura surrounded Kuno, permeating the immediate area with an unmistakably angry heat.

Kuno breathed hard, trying his best to slow the beating of his now frantic heart and soothe the gushing sound that was pounding in his ears. His jaw was set in an angry scowl, and his eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits. After a few moments of seemingly being frozen in time watching Nabiki's face expressions turn from scheming to surprised to downright frightened in a matter of seconds, the Blue Thunder's breathing began to regulate, and the fiery aura began to disappear.

It was then he realized what he had done. He had been extremely close to striking out at Nabiki, a near defenseless girl when it came to martial arts, and he could have seriously hurt her with his new developing "power" that was yet to be controlled. His eyes suddenly widened with the cognizance that he could have easily killed one of his only friends, no matter how conniving or pushy they could be. He could have slaughtered Nabiki so swiftly, so quickly, that she wouldn't have had time to react. He knew it.

It scared him deeply. The worst part about it all, though, was the insane rush of power and glee that ran through him at the thought of being able to so easily overpower the girl, to strike her down and kill her. It made him utterly sick to his stomach.

"I. . . Nabiki, I am sorry," Tatewaki began, his voice soft and his eyes cast downwards in shame and dismay, once again turning his back to the brown-haired teenager. He balled up the sheets in his hand, squeezing them, hoping to relieve some of the tension and utter illness he felt within and for himself.

Once again, there was silence.

"No, Kuno, I. . ." A beat passed; tension surmounted the two teenagers as each sat in a hushed kind of shock .

"I should go," she whispered flatly, quickly rising from her chair and marking her exit with a quick and efficient slam of the door.

Tatewaki Kuno buried his face in his hands. Numerous thoughts swirled in his confused mind, each of them trying to sort themselves out and find that special slot of logic that was usually reserved for the contemplations of the Blue Thunder, but had yet to find their place in the pattern of order and reason. Kuno suspected it would be a long while before he did. His entire body shook, and the boy tried his best to hide his face from view, despite the fact that there was no one in the room with him; he felt so ashamed - of his feelings, his actions, and his hostility towards someone who couldn't defend themselves.

"I am a monster," the forlorn kendoist whispered into his hands, scrunching his eyes as tight as he possibly could. A cool breeze wafted in through the window, making it's way to Kuno's general direction, coiling around his body much to the effect of a serpent after catching its prey.

"Not a monster, Tacchi. Just confused," came an oddly familiar voice, but not from the doorway. Snapping his head up, the boy turned his head to where he had heard the verbalization come from, scanning the area for evidence of a person. He didn't have to look far to spot the green tank-top, black plat-formed boots, and billowing brown and yellow streaked hair sitting rather comfortably on the large windowsill protruding on the outside of the school.

"Noryoku!" Kuno gasped in surprise, his eyes wide with shock. In return, Noryoku simply smiled a wry sort of grin that spoke volumes for itself.

"In the flesh," she responded softly, a twinkle glinting in her emerald coloured eyes, matching the dazzlingly droll curve of the lips present on her face. The tranquil wind flitting about gently caressed her hair, fiddling with it, allowing it to billow around her lithe form and accent her face. She laughed playfully at Kuno's rather perplexed and shocked expression currently residing on his features.

"Nice impression of a fish you've got going there Tacchi," she giggled, replacing her once satirical-looking grin with a warm and glowing smile that seemed right at home below her radiating eyes. Realizing that, indeed, Noryoku's statement about the fish was quite true, Kuno quickly shifted his gaze from her eyes to his more comfortable resting place of the covers balled up in his fists. This certainly didn't go unnoticed by the woman perched on the sill.

"How long have you been here?" the kendoist asked quietly, his eyes firmly transfixed on the pattern of shadows that danced on the white linen held tightly within his grasp. They could have almost matched the colour of the bandage around his knuckles if they weren't stained deep red by the wounds hidden underneath.

"Long enough," she began, tilting her head, her smile fading in its glamour to a soft curve of concern and knowing. "You certainly have an interesting relationship with that short-haired girl, Nabiki wasn't it?"

"Interesting is not how I would describe it," Tatewaki remarked quietly, scrunching up the sheets in his hand in an even tighter ball. Noryoku stretched herself out comfortably, balancing carefully but making it look like the easiest thing in the world.

"Well that's you, isn't it? Ah l'amour, the beauty and bane of our existence," the brown haired woman sighed, looking at Kuno out of the corner of her eye for a certain reaction. She got what she wanted.

"How dare you suggest that I am in love with that scheming, conniving wench! I belong to Akane Tendo and the Pigtailed girl, certainly not Nabiki!" he burst out, swerving his gaze to meet that of Noryoku's, his eyes wide with what an inexperienced and naive person would assume to be rage. She knew better; too much better to be fooled.

"Is that how you truly feel?" she inquired, her eyes imploring with a facade of innocence plastered amongst them, "and is that why you are so familiar with her that you don't even use her last name like you do with your other two proclaimed loves?" Kuno glared at her horribly.

"A slip of the tongue."

"A slip of the heart?"

"Be silent for once." And with that, Noryoku burst out laughing right on the windowsill, attracting the attention of some rather astonished students below. Despite his best attempts to sulk and stay dark and gloomy, the Blue Thunder couldn't help but surrender a well fought against smirk to break out onto his face at the utter absurdity of it all. After a few moments, the woman's laughter died down to a few giggles here and there, and she set her face into a more serious expression.

"So why are you up here, Tacchi?" she asked, earnestly this time, her face imploring, "it had to be something fairly serious." Kuno sighed despondently, running his right hand through his now messy mop of chestnut brown hair and looking away from the windowsill, at the now empty chair beside him. Noryoku tilted her head.

"I sense that you don't really want to tell me," she stated, stretching herself out comfortably on the window's ledge, crossing her arms behind her head and her legs over one another, "don't worry, I've probably been through the same thing, if not worse." The kendoist furrowed his brow for a moment, considering his options and weighing what Noryoku said in his mind. Finally, he reached his conclusion, and turned his focus once more to view the woman relaxing comfortably on the stone ledge.

"I suppose I do not have much of a choice in this matter, do I? You are going to find out sooner or later, why not make it easier for both of us," he commented flatly, raising one eyebrow. She, in turned, smiled once again in a half-way fashion, turning her head slightly to look at the foliage surrounding the school.

"You're smarter than most people give you credit for, you know that Tacchi?" she began, now looking at said boy out of the corner of her eye, "you're just too damn proud and stubborn to really let it show through rational thinking."

"Well, you have just got me all figured out now, don't you?" he replied sharply, sneering sarcasm biting through his voice. Although hints of surprise splotched Noryoku's face here and there, she still appeared to be relaxed and, for the most part, in control.

"I didn't say that I did. I realize that, right now, you probably don't want to talk to anyone at all, mind a strange woman you just met a day ago. I don't want to pressure the matter," she explained gently, an almost maternal tone creeping into her voice, "I just want to help you."

A breeze made it's way through the window, ruffling Kuno's samurai garb somewhat, bringing in with it some arrant cherry blossom petals from the tree nearest the hospital wing. One blossom, such a light pink that it was almost a lighter shade of pale, drifted and flitted along the soft air current, tumbling over itself until it settled comfortably into Kuno's somewhat open palm. He brought his hand up closer to his face, looking with distant curiosity at the small petal that felt so silky smooth against his skin. Such a simple thing, a cherry blossom petal, yet so intricately beautiful, once studied further. Tatewaki's eyes followed the small, light red, and nearly invisible veins all around the tiny blossom, noting each small crinkle and fold on the flower petal. He felt almost as if he could lose himself in all the soft twists and turns of blossom's vessels.

It was then the door was opened with a hushed click, startling Kuno out of his almost dream-like trance. Swerving his head quickly, he saw none other than Nabiki Tendo in the doorway, looking down at Kuno for a moment before turning her head away.

"I forgot my school bag," she explained emotionlessly. True to her word, Nabiki's black briefcase was leaning against the right leg at the end of Kuno's bed. Quickly bending down and grabbing the bag by its handle, Nabiki noticed a small pink cherry blossom float by her face, landing on her black school bag, creating a sharp contrast of light and dark. Blinking once and thoughtlessly brushing it aside, Nabiki stood at full height once more, doing her best to avert her eyes from the boy sitting up in the bed. The click of her shoes echoed painfully throughout the small hospital-like room as she walked towards the door.

Kuno, meanwhile, had discerned that Noryoku was no longer sitting on the windowsill; it was as if she up and disappeared on him when Nabiki had opened the door. Amazed and puzzled at the same time, Kuno decided to switch his line of sight from the now strangely empty window to the girl walking out of the room. He watched her. How her skirt flowed about her with each step, how her shortly-cropped mahogany hair wavered and glinted in the rays of sunlight, how her deep brown eyes were set stoically ahead. . .

For the first time, Tatewaki realized that Nabiki Tendo was beautiful.

Yet, it was not in the classic, pure sense like her younger sister or the Pigtailed Girl; this was a different kind of beautiful. She was cold, distant, unreachable; almost like a fallen angel, an enigma. For a brief moment, Kuno thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to understand what was happening and make it right. She was smart; she always knew what to do, was always so sure. . .

"Nabiki?" the boy asked hesitantly, looking up at her, expectancy etched on his handsome features. Nabiki froze in her steps.

"Yes, Kuno?" she asked, her tone flat and apathetic, not once glancing in Kuno's direction. Her grip visibly tightened on the handle of her school case; this did not go unnoticed by the kendoist in the bed beside her. He sighed and let his head droop down; if Nabiki was sure of something, she would never act like this. She seemed so nervous in his presence, so uncomfortable. That could only mean one thing.

She didn't know the answer.

"Never mind," he mumbled quietly and, surprisingly, softly. At this time, Nabiki chanced a peek at her friend; she was rewarded with the view of his profile silhouetted against the bright sun splashing in through the open window. His messy hair hung over his forehead and clung to it with some sweat; his lips were curved downwards, and his eyes. . . his gorgeous, grey eyes, looked like they were shimmering with tears. Nabiki's heart bled for him, it really did; but there was nothing that she could do for him.

Pushing her hair behind her ears with her left hand, Nabiki Tendo quickly exited the room and shut the door behind her. With the closing of the sparse, white entrance, Kuno could almost feel a part of him slip away from him too; he could always rely on intelligent Nabiki to have an answer, whether it be during history class or the whereabouts of the Pigtailed Girl. She always knew; but now, she could barely utter three words to him.

His eyes focused downwards onto the palm of his hand, where the tiny cherry blossom still sat. He let a single tear drop splash down on the small petal before closing his strong fist around it, effectively crushing it into dust between his fingers. Kuno opened his hand, and gazed despairingly at the diminutive pile of pink powder sitting in it. The wind soon took care of his problem, though; it came through the open window, lifting the remains of the cherry blossom from Kuno's hand and blowing it gently throughout the small hospital room, scattering itself all over the furniture and floor.

"Hard, isn't it? Trying to find someone to care and understand. You're lucky that I'm still here, Tacchi," said a voice that was quite recognizable to the boy sitting in the bed. Turning his attention once more to the window, he saw Noryoku now expertly swinging herself back into her original sitting position on the sill. Deciding against asking how or why Noryoku did what she did, Kuno simply nodded in assent with her comment. A silent fury shone in his eyes.

"Lucky. Is that what you call me? I am developing an extremely volatile power that could kill the ones I love with a single errant thought, and I do not know whether my sister is alive or dead. I am just damned blessed, now aren't I?" Kuno bit off sarcastically, his voice hardening considerably. For once, Noryoku looked suprised.

"What do you mean you don't know whether your sister's alive or dead?" she implored, sitting forward and looking intently at Kuno.

"Last night, after I came home from talking with you about my. . . my power, I find my sister Kodachi's room completely destroyed and stained with blood," Kuno began, his eyes narrowing and misting over, "and the only clue I have as to who did it is a note."

"What did the note say?" the woman on the windowsill asked, dread crawling into her voice and gripping her heart.

"It was written in blood; p-probably Kodachi's blood," Kuno said, his breath starting to catch in his throat as he relieved the horror he saw in his house the night before, "and it s-said 'Pandora's Box has been opened'."

Noryoku seemed to be frozen in shock for a split second, her mouth slightly agape. In an instant and without word or warning, she jumped from the window to land on the branches of a nearby tree below; she hopped from branch to branch and tree to tree until she was well away from the school and Kuno's hospital-like room.

Tatewaki continued to stare at the window, wondering why Noryoku had reacted so idiosyncratically to what was on the note in Kodachi's bedroom, but beginning to form ideas of his own. Perhaps Noryoku was involved with what happened to his sister; maybe everything she was saying was a lie. Maybe not. At the moment, Kuno was much too confused and much too tired to press any of the points to a further degree.

The kendoist leaned back on the frame of his rather small bed, his hands resting in his lap as he tried to become as relaxed as possible. He was about to reach out and grab the sheets to pull over himself when he noticed that a minuscule, barely visible something had fallen into his open palm. He brought his hand up to eye level.

It was a cherry blossom.

It was also then that he noticed he was glowing a strange grey colour.



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Oh my GOD this took a long time to finish. I am SO SORRY for the lack of update and this crappy chapter. v_v This was originally supposed to be 20+ pages, but I struggled so much through this one scene that I figured 'Okay, enough's enough, let's just update the damn story already'. Very sorry that it took so long for me to write this tiny tidbit. Oy! _

Well, anyhoot, as usual, R/R very much appreciated! ^_^