Too innocent... my Kenji is WAY too innocent...
He's STUPIDLY innocent... but I guess I can't go back on that now!
Can you believe this chapter became "too big" for a single simpletext document when I was writing the last little section? I didn't think I'd be that long! When I plugged it into Word and finished it, the whole thing became 18 pages!
And is it just me, or is there a lot of nodding going on?
As before please review so I don't whither and die, die!
"So Is everybody this lonely when in love? They'll hold onto a feeling deeper than the shadows?"
Chapter 11: Questionable Actions
~~~~~~~~~
Uriko shook violently and wore out her lungs sobbing in the arms of a confused Kenji. Soon, the master appeared and told him he had successfully disposed of all the nuisances. When his acolyte asked him what was wrong, he replied she must have been frightened by the events that took place. The Young Dragon agreed and recalled she had been captured by some of them when he came. Still, they were gone now. Were they doing something very scary before he came?
Something nagged at the back of his head in a voice he could barely hear. It was a presence he could often feel trying to tell him something, as it had knowledge he did not have. This time, it was telling him he was the scary one.
But why should she have been afraid? Was she one of those ruffians he had been told to kill? He had saved her, on top of that.
He finally heard some of the voice's message: Can you not see how frightening you are....
The Young Dragon shook his head and shooed the voice away and tried to purge his mind of those troubling thoughts.
"Enough of standing in this mess," his master ordered, "Do you know what to do now?"
"We... wash ourselves," he answered quietly.
"Correct. It is important not to soak in blood. Do you know why?"
"It burns."
"Pardon?"
The boy looked up at his master with a surprised face. "It burns," he repeated as if it was the most obvious thing. "It's unsanitary," the master corrected. "Is that why it burns?" his pupil asked him.
The master ignored this question and explained blood can take away one's self control. This girl was an example of one kind of loss of control, one that completely shuns any such action out of fear of blood. Some lose their control a different way. Some bathe in blood and enjoy pain and suffering and seek to make their victims die in the worst way possible for their enjoyment. They lie back and bask in the glory they have declared theirs and they become spoiled.
The Clan of the Soil was better than that, Bakuryu explained. They carried out the assassin's mission the proper way. Killing was a job and a living, no more, no less. There were assassins in this building who had lost their control long ago. These were bad examples and company he should shun. He wanted his heir to have a steady head.
Bakuryu then thought to himself, his control is good, but for the wrong reasons. He still must get over this post-brainwashing condition and gain back his years and maturity. Hopefully, they would keep him up to par for a long time before the doctor would find a reason to have another session with him. That was the challenge Bakuryu faced.
If only the Young Dragon could learn not to lose control...
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Miss Uriko... are you feeling better today?" Kenji asked from the door. She had not left her bed since she had been laid there. She had given no response and her only movement was the occasional shifting of her position. She was curled up, facing the wall, or at least that was what he thought; the blanket completely hid her.
"Uriko, aren't you hungry? You didn't eat at all yesterday. You should at least come out of bed."
Suddenly, the thought entered his mind that maybe she had died and he immediately placed one hand on top of the large lump in the sheets and shook her slightly. The form shook off the disturbance and shrank back into its curled up form. It was then that he heard a slight hiccup.
"Uriko?"
He peeled away the blanket and saw her. Her hair was unkempt from tossing and turning and her eyes were puffy and red and wet. She was still crying? She glanced up at him and appeared to be troubled by the mere sight of him.
"You are afraid of me, aren't you..."
His master stepped behind the pondering youth and barked, "Young Dragon!"
At the sound, he immediately stood to attention. "Yes, Master!"
"You have a daytime mission. A rather interesting assignment, actually. Come."
The Young Dragon nodded and started to follow, but two hands clutched his ankle. The girl held his foot closer to her in trying to stop him. In a raspy voice, she begged, "Kenji... don't... Please don't go with him."
"Uriko," he told her in his usual quiet voice, "This is my Master. Don't speak as if he was not trustworthy."
"Don't go with him!" She pressed her face against the metal of his leg guard. "He'll make you kill more people!"
That was what was wrong with her, was it not? Killing frightened her. That should be easy to solve!
"Miss Uriko, missions inside this building are very rare. We will probably be outside, so you won't be scared, right? And then you'll get better, right?" He paused and placed one hand on her head and said hopefully, "Just in case it's in here, you stay put so you don't get scared. Rest up and get better."
She tried to protest, but Kenji casually stepped out of the room. When she tried to get up to call him back, his master forced her back into bed with a kick. "You stay in your place," he hissed.
Outside, his master explained to the acolyte his mission. Apparently, daytime was the only time it could be pulled off. It merely required some infiltration to allow a little hacking to be done from a safe distance. All he had to beware was of some security issues, which would frame them for different crimes.
~~~~~~~~~
The young boxer sat slumped at the table of his favorite restaurant and stared at his favorite steak, which did not arouse his appetite and cheer him up as he had hoped. Fortunately, there was always the beer to fill him up and attempt to ease his pain, but even that was not very satisfying. He glanced over at the half full glass of another helping of the brown-gold drink and decided he did not want to get that drunk. Kenji would not like that.
His hand played with the cloth napkin and he put it over his hand and tied and folded it so two "ears" stuck out from the top.
"Look Kenji," he chuckled with a slight smile, looking over the table, "It's a...."
He saw nothing and was reminded he was alone.
"... A rabbit."
He pulled the makeshift puppet off and rested his head in one hand. The food he loved only brought back memories of an unhappy looking Kenji, frowning in distaste at the kind of cuisine Yugo liked as he nibbled at a simpler side dish.
Gado had practically yelled his ears off once more when he found out he had lost Kenji, especially after such a short amount of time. Even if he was not talking to him, they might have gotten something out of the girl he had brought with him. Yugo burst out of the station after giving the inspector a piece of his mind. All he cared about was his stupid "case," whatever that was about. What about his little brother? What was really happening to him? Gado seemed to know. What was he keeping from him?
When Yugo left the restaurant, he nearly stumbled once or twice as he walked down the street. He was not exactly drunk, but he had consumed enough alcohol to cloud up his mind considerably, which only added to the clouds of his sorrow. With nothing to think about but his sadness, he wandered through the haze to walk his loneliness away.
He had not wandered too far from home when neared by the Pendon Corporation building. People in business suits walked up and down the sidewalk, all looking like they had something very important to do. He was a stranger to this world, but they were all the frequent customers the vendors and local stores existed to serve. He wandered down the longer side of the block, not very well populated and hidden in the shadow of the corporate giant.
And then, there was a loud crash when some blurry form crashed into the street from out of nowhere back in the sunlight. He heard screams and car horns. An unusual-looking character burst out of his van and and ran to the scene. He seemed to not notice Yugo's presence in the dark alley. He hurried back with a limp body in his arms. Yugo watched dumbly while he thrust the form into the back of the van and sped off.
That was just a kid, Yugo thought as the car began to make its escape. What a strange yellow outfit he was wearing...
Kenji! The revelation came all too late. He limped into the street and tried to lock his lazy eyes onto the vehicle.
"Kenji!"
His limping picked up a little speed and a strange hope that he would somehow catch the car controlled him from the back of his mind.
"Ken-"
The last thing he heard was an overwhelming high-pitched squeal, followed by a quick burst of agony, before everything became dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bakuryu..." the doctor crooned, "You know he's deteriorating..."
The old ninja stubbornly looked away from him, "He is an amateur. Don't think every mistake is an excuse to work on him."
Hajime chuckled. "My! I never expected the proud Bakuryu, of all people, to hide behind his heir's mistakes and use them as an excuse... What's the world coming to?"
He tightly clutched his fists so that he felt he would break his own fingers by the force his hands were exerting on themselves. He silently hissed his rage and hoped Busuzima would not hear him to know he had indeed pushed the exact right button.
"He is an amateur because of his forgetfulness... which you have caused," he decided to say, "Besides, a mere miscalculation turns up every now and then."
"That 'miscalculation' nearly got him killed."
Bakuryu had made a severe miscalculation, triggering a security program aimed towards eliminating his kind. The "computer" at which he was working let out a field of energy, similar to the one a zoanthrope lets off when forcefully transforming. It sent him flying back and out of the building. Fortunately, his fall was not a great one... and perhaps thanks could have been given to his "enhancements." Some good had come out of all the times the doctor messed with this valuable individual. For his size, he was very strong. His bones were much more sturdy and his senses were tweaked so he did not have to rely on mole traits that happened to "leak" into his human form (such was the case for most zoanthropes). In the right state, when he was up to par, his mind could enter such a high concentration it would astound him, but eventually he would deteriorate and lose his will to complete his missions, even though he was still a very loyal ninja. His concentration and memory would waver though he tried to stay focused. At that point, they would have to start all over again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Prince shook his head and repeated the story for the umpteenth time, leaning on the table on which he had set a bag he was carrying at the moment he saw the subject of the stories going around the building at this time.
"So," he stated to make sure his mind was not playing tricks, "you were hurled backwards..."
The young ninja nodded.
"...You went through the window..."
The young ninja nodded once more.
"...You fell into the street, denting a car while you were at it..."
The young ninja nodded just the same.
"...And you're standing here with just a few bandages?!"
"Well, The Doctor gave me something that made me heal quickly."
".... SOMETHING THE DOCTOR GAVE YOU WORKED?!"
"I heard that!" a familiar voice called from down the hall.
With a sigh, he tossed back his pale hair and began in a profound voice, "I simply refuse to believe this outrageous claim! To think... our dear doctor actually doing something beneficial for his wounded patients! Perhaps... the seed of hope has indeed not died, but has sprouted into a growing sapling for the world to nurture... My life regains its meaning..."
"Oh, shut up... " said doctor mumbled before going back to his business.
"So Ryu... you say that girl of yours is sick?"
He nodded, this time looking downwards sadly. "I scared her... she followed me when I had to eliminate some delinquents... and she got really scared."
The prince agreed it was a rather gruesome sight. And she had been there to witness it. She had probably never imagined such an event could even take place.
"She isn't better. She's still in bed and she refuses to come out."
"A horrifying event such as that would not fade from the young lady's mind very easily, I would imagine. I would think she would be absolutely opposed to being near you."
"Oh...?"
The Young Dragon himself was now the frightened one.
"What am I to do...?"
"I am no psychologist, however... you could perhaps show her you are the softie you really are. Give her a present of some sort, I suppose. Get her into thinking you are harmless once more."
He made a slight noise with his teeth in the back of his mouth and said with the most humor one could sneak into the subject, "In fact, it's actually not that hard to convince people you are harmless, and not the cold-blooded killer you also are."
There it was. Something about the way he said "killer" told him that was at the heart of this. Something about the way many people talked about him and his occupation told him this was at the heart of this. His conflict with the voice arose once more.
Can you not see how frightening you are, his soul whispered, in how you wield your claws and easily destroy many in a gory display?
Was he doing it the wrong way, then? Perhaps if he did not let blood get everywhere...
No, the silence told him, his technique was perfect. He killed perfectly. The point was that he killed.
But he was supposed to kill them! The master had confirmed his mission as a success.
It was wrong.
"It... It is, isn't it...? Killing..." he whispered. When there came news of a mission, a cold wave made his spine tingle. Indeed, his core shuddered when he stopped them from living. Indeed, his skin burned when drenched in blood.
No! It was not good to think of such things! Killing was his livelihood, his destiny! It was what he would train his heir to do!
"No" he choked, starting to shake. He clutched at himself and mumbled, "No... No, no, no..." It was not true! He was still good. He was loyal, and so he was good! He was a good student...
"Eh, Ryu? Ryu, snap out of it!"
Cronos lighly slapped his cheek and told him he looked like he was having another episode.
"Another" episode, he pondered.
The heir pulled himself together and concluded, "She was just surprised. She'll get better."
"Whatever," Cronos sighed, "Anyway, if you want to keep a lady, you will have to get over the bumps or somebody else will come along in your time of difficulty and snatch her away."
"Huh?!" He practically panicked when Cronos said this.
"I'm saying, Ryu, that the man who makes the first move wins in such a game. The lady goes to whoever is able to claim her first. After that, all there is to do is to sit and feel miserable, feeling guilty because you are praying for their relationship to fall apart so you can have your chance.... And if it is forever... you are left regretting not taking advantage of your missed chance. She is forever out of your reach."
He voiced an almost inaudible "Oh..." and glanced at the prince with a hopelessly worried look. Cronos saw him overreact and lightened up, placing one hand on his shoulder.
"But I don't think there's any competition around her! She's pretty much stuck where she is and you're probably the only ninja she will trust, so don't waste the opportunity, okay, Ryu? Make the first move -- Remember that!"
He nodded obediently as he usually did and told him he would miss out on his chance. The prince, along with an encouragement, slammed one bronze fist onto the table and accidentally thrust it onto the corner of the package he had set there, summoning an audible squishing noise, followed by the presence of some kind of liquid. When he saw what he had done he whispered a foul expletive in a mere hiss under his breath.
He had just gotten a shipment of high quality foods, this one consisting primary of fruits (and rather juicy ones, it seemed). He opened the parcel to see what he had crushed and something red and green caught the ninja's eye. Cronos explained those were strawberries, and good ones at that. Unlike the "mutant" strawberries normally sold, these were small and dark with long thin stems. They gave off a very noticeable and pleasant sweet smell. They were a more wild variety.
Kenji's eyes lit up and something went off inside him that immediately associated these berries with Uriko. Was he remembering something?
"Prince Cronos, may I have one?"
"I don't see why not," he said and held a small basket of them in his direction. Kenji literally took only one small berry, thanked him, and ran off with it clutched in his hands as if it were a precious treasure. He rushed back to his clan's quarters and immediately headed for the bed where the "sick" girl lay.
He had not expected her to be sleeping. He found a note saying they had managed to sneak a sleeping drug into her, and she should be sleeping very soundly. He looked at her and found she still turned and twitched in her sleep and she still looked very troubled despite the fact she was supposed to be in a deep slumber. Although it was good she could finally rest, it was a slight disappointment that he would have to wait to give her his special present. After all, he had to complete the evening rounds with his master soon, so he continued with his business.
Nonetheless, his instincts brought him back at the stroke of twelve. He rose from his slumber and knew was to see her.
This time, he held the present in a small paper box and stood over her sleeping form. He watched her silently as if he were waiting for something to happen. Every once in a while, she would turn and sometimes a slight sound of distress came from her. She was even scared in such a deep sleep. The suggestion of hypnosis crept into his mind and it seemed to make sense and not be an invasion. Sleeping drugs could make the subject not as receptive and he could not completely change her will by just words, but he decided to try anyway and leaned over to chant the mantras into her ear to bring the girl to listen.
He had no questions, but he merely begged her not to fear him. He wanted her to get better. He did not want this shadow looming over his soul that he had done something wrong. He could not think and carry out what he was supposed to do with such a weight.
"And if you're still afraid, then.."
He pulled back the covers and slipped into bed with her.
"Then I'll sleep right here, next to you."
It took a while, but she slowly slurred his name and recognized his presence. She did not seem as distressed when he touched her face as he brushed back a rumpled lock of hair. He shifted in closer and liked the feeling of being next to someone before drifting off into dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~
When Yugo awoke, he sensed the white lights were not fitting the time of night that could be felt in the air. The walls were bright white and so were the sheets of his small bed and the little desk. Some color came from a picture of a famous painting hung on the wall, or was it really a wall? It was a very thin wall of a cubicle, one of many that lined the hallway. He could see outside the "door" of his area if he leaned to the left a little and saw a little cart of cups, catheters, pills, and all sorts of medical junk. The boxer was in a hospital. He sat up and found he was sore all over. In fact, certain parts of his body were wrapped in bandages.
He cringed and forced himself out of bed. Walking was torture when one felt like he was completely covered in one giant bruise. Down the hall of the small quarters of emergency room patients was a desk at which two nurses were seated, neither very busy at this time of night. His arrival startled one and she immediately snapped to attention.
"What are you doing out of bed, Mister..."
"Ogami..." he groaned, "I'm Yugo Ogami."
"...Mister Ogami?" the nurse completed. Her hands immediately went for the files to look him up. Her eyes widened at the computer screen's displayed information.
"What the hell happened? I feel like I was hit by truck..."
"Well, it wasn't exactly a truck.... Thankfully, there were no broken bones or serious injuries other than that concussion."
Yugo just moaned and cradled his sore head. He could now officially say concussions hurt like hell. The nurse remembered something.
"Oh, you're the one who... Alice!"
She looked behind her and called her, asking if she was on duty. Then, she noticed she was seated at the computer right next to her. She did not respond and was emitting a low hissing sound. The other nurse leaned over, grabbed her dark pigtails sprouting from the sides of her head in either hand, and yanked hard.
"Alice!"
She shook her head sat up straight all of a sudden, "I'm up! I'm up! I can do the late shift! I can do the early morning shift and the afternoon shift, too!"
"He's awake, Alice."
"Who?"
"The handkerchief person."
"That's right," Alice said and then told the patient, "We've met before. The police station..."
Yugo remembered that day and reached into his pocket to grab the item, but then was reminded he was wearing hospital clothes. "Oh. You're Alice... 'Nonomura?'"
"That's right. Did they... um... find your brother?"
The term "brother" started the wheels in his mind. Before he said "no," he thought back to a part of his mind that called to him. He was not in his right state of mind and there was that explosion...
"Kenji!" he yelled all of a sudden. He looked around frantically and wanted to do something right then and there, but there was no place from where to start.
"Mister Ogami...?
"I saw him... I saw Kenji! He was knocked out and this weird guy ran off with him. He jumped in a van and got away and-"
He was absolutely sure it was not an ambulance, as the girls had suggested. This was a wild looking individual with grass for hair, bad posture, and casual dress. He was up to no good. Was he the one Kenji was with when he disappeared? "They took me back," Kenji had said... Was he the reason Kenji was so sickly and pale? Was he why he refused to speak? Was he why Kenji was so disturbed, as many put it?
That man took his brother. He would not forget his face. May he have endured the painful death he would surely have in store for such a fiend if he would forget his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The darkness still clung at her mind and she yearned to stay in a gelled state, stuck in her bed. Trying to go back to sleep would be futile now, but one could still try to achieve a state very close to sleep. The sheets were warm and soft as well as the form surrounding her. Some large and heavy almost hurt her by resting on her side. Whatever it was, it was massive and covered in velvety plush. Her upper body rested on something similar. Her face and front were nuzzled into cloth, but something else was undernearth it and could be felt through the fabric. Underneath this texture was more solid substance, something very hard, heavy, and well defined. Then she recognized its slow movement, along with a very faint sigh, a very slow and airy "squeak."
Uriko shifted her position and tried to get into a slight sitting position. She moved so she could see the other side of the bed and that was when saw the claws.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day.... whatever number it is I'm too damn tired
I swear by the first whisker if I had a specific amount of money every time I heard that shriek I would be considerably wealthy. Even when she isn't yelling at me, she's yelling over something. Damn kids. Why do people make them to begin with?
If he kills her, it will be an "interesting observation." Yes, that sounds good. I am not losing sleep over this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hulking creature practically danced around the room and took up fighting positions, particularly the ones that bared his claws as he prepared for an attacker he had not detected. He sniffed the air and looked around and listened and then decided there was nobody there. The Young Dragon became human, eyes narrowed and lips firmly pressed together. He continued to watch every corner of the room suspiciously. Kneeling on front of the frightened girl so he could be at eye level with her, he asked her what she saw.
Her mouth moved rapidly, trying to find the words. Stuttering noised poured from her mouth before she pulled herself together enough to almost shout, "It was you!"
"M-me? I wasn't attacking you!"
A guilty look came over her face and she said more quietly, "N-not you... that mole..."
"But I thought you liked my mole form. I'm cute and fuzzy."
"Not after all that! I can't sleep!"
"Did I scare you that much...?"
"Did you scare me?!" she shouted into his face, "How do you think I feel after seeing all that?! I can't think! I can't eat! I can't do anything! If I do fall asleep, I keep on dreaming the moles are coming to kill me!"
He told her encouragingly, "Why would they do that? You are our guest."
"You all would kill me without waiting if you were told to," she choked, pulling her legs to her chest, "I'd be no different from those people to you."
"Uriko! Please don't talk about such things! You know that probably won't happen!"
"And what if it did, Kenji? You'd probably enjoy killing me just the same!"
The heir found that one word interesting. "I... I don't enjoy it," he told her with an odd firmness in his voice, "And I would not enjoy killing you."
He took a seat next to her against the wall and let out a long breath. A look of embarrassment came over him when he said, "I really don't like killing people, now that I think about it. I mean, I'm not supposed to like it or hate it, but deep down... I feel like I'm doing something awful."
"But Kenji," she exclaimed in a bewildered tone of voice, "It is awful!"
A shaky voice answered back, "It is, isn't it... No, I'm good! I'm obedient! I practice! I don't bathe in blood like the others! I'm not doing something bad. I'm supposed to do that!"
Like when he was with Cronos the day before, his arms found their way around himself, a chill came over his body, and he began to gasp like Uriko had in the past days.
"No..."
His eyes darted around frantically, and he found the little paper package by the head of Uriko's bed. He quickly snatched it up and nearly shoved it in her face.
"This is for you," he blurted, still in his panic, "Please get better! You like those, right?"
Her small hands took off the folded paper lid and saw what had begun to leak red juice and soak the bottom half. How strange. Uriko, now confused, looked up at Kenji.
"You're so juvenile. You're completely different now, not like the Kenji I first met."
She was unhappy with him. He was not the Kenji she wanted, was he? He was not the Kenji she cared about.
She knows as well, his soul told him, and you have always known. You cannot handle what you do, can you?
Was she bad then? She could not be! He knew she was good.
She was indeed good.
So, the Young Dragon figured, he was the bad one!
But why was he bad? Was he not doing what he was supposed to be doing?
He blocked out anything else the voice tried to say and consumed himself with the pain of his own insides crumbling in his confusion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bakuryu knew it was happening when he saw his acolyte fall so easily. He protested and told him he was concentrating and he was doing his best, but the Blast Dragon could see it in his eyes. He was deteriorating already. He had not even returned to his acceptable state, he just went straight into deterioration. How disgusting. Was that girl responsible for the speed at which this happened?
"Enough of this," he said curtly.
"M-Master?! I've been practicing! I was trying!"
"Enough."
"You're angry with me, too..."
The old master looked back at the boy. "Hm?"
"But I can get better if we keep training. Let's continue!"
"No!" he ordered, sending him back into his place, "I know you will only get worse at this point. It's no use..."
He faced away and wiped his forehead. Sighing, he thought out loud, "I give up. Perhaps the only thing to do is keep sending you back..."
"To the Doctor..? I'm going to get forget everything, aren't I?"
"Yes, Young Dragon, you're going to forget again. It's no use talking about it. Let's go."
He started to follow, but then he objected the idea. "But I want to remember," he said, "Forgive me, Master, but there's so much I want to find out. And... you get angry when I forget things."
Bakuryu, ashamed he was admitting Busuzima was right all these years, told him it was just something he would have to teal with. Then, his heir said to nobody in particular, "I'm always doing something wrong, aren't I?" When asked about this, he explained the master was always displeased in some form, and how he knew deep down something was seriously wrong when he did his missions, even if he was sure he did them correctly. To add to that, Uriko told him what he did was 'awful.' It troubled him greatly. He was good, was he not? Surely the master could tell him!
Bakuryu saw the pleading look in his eyes and pondered this. So, his deterioration was indeed connected to a loss of control. Perhaps the girl was the only reason this was brought on, but if this was really some inner instinct, then this opened up something completely different for the old mole.
"We're not seeing the doctor."
So this was about ethics, was it? If his guess was right, the Young Dragon must have never gotten the chance to get over that little difficulty. After all, he had known to expect tainting to last long, but fade away eventually, if treated to correctly (and the doctor was preventing proper treatment). The taint on his soul from the first time he had gotten into trouble was slightly different from what he had imagined. Perhaps there was hope for making him a proper ninja, one fit to be Bakuryu.
He could not lose this progress now, he decided. He listened and felt for eavesdroppers and then whispered to his student, "Young Dragon, this is very important. You are to stay away from the doctor."
The youth blinked in confusion. "But what if he tells me to see him? I can't-"
"You can and you will. Stay away from him. Perhaps it would be best to stay away from that girl as well for the time being. That is an order. You'll... be good, won't you?"
He nodded eagerly and told him he would stay put.
A very faint smile, though this time without his usual intent behind it, graced his face.
"That's my boy. You know what to do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hajime Busuzima tried to ignore the prince, who was following him around and making his life miserable. He turned around and reminded in an annoyed voice, "I do have experiments that result in people NOT vomiting blood for extended amounts of time! What is it with you and vomiting blood? Can't you leave me alone?"
"For your information, it's a little hard to ignore somebody leaving pools of blood all over the building -- I nearly broke my neck because of one of those!"
"Oh, how lucky we all are..." he moaned.
"And when you're not experimenting, you're just mooching off Tylon!"
"And when you're not being a total ASS, you're mooching off us too, so leave me alone already!"
"Hey," Cronos interjected with one hand daintily placed over his heart, "I mooch for the side of good."
The scientist dismissed him with some nasty comments mumbled under his breath and a loose hand gesture, but he would not leave.
"Oi, Dr. Freak! I got a challenge -- I DARE you to do an experiment that doesn't involve a live subject. I'll bet you can't do that!"
He turned around and locked his narrow slits onto Cronos' emerald eyes. "As a matter of fact... I have one. You had better stop bugging me after you see it."
Cronos did a mock faint, complete with the touch of the back of one hand on his forehead. "I never thought I would live to see the day! He who finds a way to brutally molest souls in tests to find out if spinach tastes good in a quiche claims he has a test that does no harm to any living creature! Why I do not know what to say. The words are beyond me."
He passionately clutched at his breast and cooed, "Be still, my beating heart; this is, indeed, reality."
"Oh, shut up," the green haired man groaned. He entered his favorite work area, the one with his main desk, and turned on the lights and gathered supplies. Many little jars of red fluid were produced from the cupboards. The test he would be doing was an observation of how the genetics of typical zoanthropes reacted to a certain stimulus he had been brainstorming about.
"This does not count. It's obviously going to result in more painful experiments later on. Hélas! Optimism is at once shot from the sky by a painful and tragic blow!"
"If you don't like it so much, then don't watch!"
"I shall not. You are still the same horrible man. Good day to you."
Spouting more poetry, the prince went his ways and Busuzima was alone once more. He was serious about the experiment, however, and continued what he had started, setting up the equipment. He nearly spilled the jar of "female horse #15" when somebody else rudely interrupted his important work.
"Hajime!"
"Good grief," he mumbled with one hand over his face, "If it isn't one, it's the other."
He stood with a hint of slink in his spine that showed off his defined stomach muscles through his unbuttoned Chinese style shirt. Its deep maroon, accented by its gold embroidering, went well with his blood red eyes. The tails of his shirt fell loosely around his dark blue pants, the blue-on-blue patterned cloth spilling over the sides of his leather shoes. To complete his look, his neck was adorned with a gold chain and black finger less gloves clothed his hands. A few locks of black hair escaped his slicked back hairstyle and hung over and around his face, which was mature, masculine, and rather attractive for a man to have. The scars that highlighted his chin and left cheek were no accident. They existed to accent his looks.
His hands casually resting in his pockets, he tilted his head back and called out the doctor's name once more. "Hajime!"
"Shenlong!" he cried with a mock happiness, his oversized hands clasped together, "You've caught me at a very busy time. You see, I"
The man, who looked to be in his thirties, stopped his sentence short to make way for his important demand, "Shut it, grass man. You know what I want."
"Supreme power and dominion over all and everything a woman can't resist?" Busuzima asked sarcastically.
He made a pleased, "Hmmm," as if to say, "Why wish for something I already have in spades.
"Quit the flattering. I hunger for waffles."
". Waffles."
"And that syrup you got last time," he added.
"You came all the way here To interrupt my research For waffles."
He nodded with closed eyes and a lazy smile. "Those shits are good."
"After I'm done," he told him.
"No. Now."
"I'm busy! I've got a whole project set up!"
"Now. I want them. Now."
He tried to come to some kind of compromise. "Just let me get my control group together how's that?"
His glowing eyes felt like red spotlights on his face when he glared at him. "You'd best not take your time," he growled with fiery hate.
He gasped an "Okay," and set out to find a sample of non-zoanthrope blood. During all that collecting of zoanthropes and their samples and during all that research, he had forgotten to stockpile regular blood. Still, he was not patient enough to wait for an order of the fluid now that he had found the time to get around to this experiment and he decided to scrounge around for any drop of the stuff that might have been left in his possession.
Then, he remembered his "To Do" basket. Was there not a recent blood sample in there yet to be tested?
"I thought you said you'd just get your control group," Shenlong threatened when the scientist turned on a machine and fed it a small amount of blood from the container.
"That's what I'm doing! I'm just scanning this to see what's in it. We just have to wait a little for the results to come up."
What was unmistakably a low nonhuman growl came from his throat and he shot daggers into him from his glare, already fed up with the prospect of waiting even more.
Words and statistics showed up on the computer screen, which Busuzima could interpret like a second language. He nodded his head and continued to scan through the results, and then his eyes widened. He reread the statistics, his eyes darting back and forth over the words repeatedly before continuing. He scrolled down the report a little further and then saw something which was apparently very shocking and, grasping the monitor with his hands, pulled his head in so his nose touched the screen.
"Holy-! No way!"
He leapt from his chair and looked around for the bottle, yelling, "Whose blood IS this?" Shenlong, still as bored as before, leaned over to the screen and said dully, "Amazing. It's a bunch of jibberish - Oh, sorry. I mean, Science.'"
"This is new," he noted, reading the number and checking it against his list of subjects, "The number isn't here, but I'll bet this is..."
