Chapter 4: Icy Wind on the Pond
Hayate stood before the check-in board, Mannen's tag in his hand. In, out, in, out, Hayate thought. He traced the imprint of Mannen's name with his fingers before slipping it in his pocket. He couldn't hang it on the in or the out column. Mannen isn't coming home any time soon, he thought. He walked into the room Mannen shared with Hajime and Shin.
Mannen's bedcovers were in a heap in the middle of his bed. A restless sleeper, Mannen's blankets slid off the bed nightly, landing on a heap on the floor. Shin and Hajime complained about his restlessness almost daily. Mannen talks in his sleep. Mannen's snores kept us up all night- but not tonight- not tomorrow, Hayate remembered.
He wiped away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He fought with Mannen more than with any of his other brother Knights. He hated the way Mannen bossed him around, making rules, demanding obedience. Hayate chaffed at Mannen's leadership and the way the older knight was always right. He hated the way Mannen talked down to him, treating him like a child at times, but he would have done anything to protect Mannen.
Underneath all their bickering and fighting was a union tighter than blood. They weren't best friends like Sasame and him, but Mannen was father, sensei, mentor, big brother, and friend. The emptiness inside him wouldn't go away. He flushed with a sense of shame and failure and felt the anger boiling inside him again.
He spotted Mannen's notebook on his desk, and picked up the battered marbled journal. Mannen kept copious notes, saying you never knew when you'd need them later. All labeled and dated, Mannen's journals over the years lined the corner bookshelf. Hayate had always found Mannen's scribbling habit funny, but he held the book tightly to his chest now. He sat in the middle of Mannen's bed, turned to Mannen's latest entries and read them, Mannen's blanket pulled around him tightly. The comforting smell of Mannen lingered still in the blanket and he read, wiping away his tears on the satin corner of the blanket.
Kei worked feverish on his program, lost in the land of zeros and ones. He reviewed each line of code and tried several changes. He was sure he was closer to solving the bug, he could feel it. He didn't think about Mannen, Hayate, or the others once. He just code crunched as if his life depended on it, occasionally emptying another bottle of the sweet berry tasting caffeine laden Bawls. The expansive row of cobalt-blue bottles was quite impressive.
A shadow fell on his screen, and he looked up, frustrated at the interruption. Hayate stood next to him, holding out Mannen's notebook toward him.
"Go away," Kei responded, returning to his keyboard, flexing his aching fingers briefly before starting to enter code again.
"Mannen figured it out," Hayate responded, "And we don't have a lot of time to implement it. Takako is growing stronger every day. Without a Pretear and now without- without-" Hayate's voice broke. It was too soon to say it out loud.
Kei sighed and pushed away from his workstation. He reached out and took the notebook from Mannen. "He could have kept all this on a disk," Kei muttered. He opened it to the pages Hayate marked and began skimming the entries. Mannen's plan was almost complete. The only missing part was where to find Takako, as far as Kei could figure out.
Hayate stood silent while Kei read. He finished, turned back to the beginning, and began again. Hayate shifted his feet anxiously. "If you can't be still, go away," Kei chided him sharply.
Hayate sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, hugging his knees, his face buried under his long hair, lost in his memories of the first time he saw Mannen.
He was barely five years old and Mannen looked like a wild giant with his frosty gray hair flowing in all directions, his eyes sharp and cold. He thought Mannen was twenty feet tall that day.
Mannen knelt on one knee in front of him and held out a hand. Hayate, wary from his experience on the streets, squinted at Mannen, not moving. He'd been running on the streets as long as he could remember. His body was a mass of bruises and cuts from a recent run in with an older gang of boys and he hadn't eaten in days. Shin's face looked horrified at the mostly dead child in front of them, but at the time Hayate thought Shin hated him. His body on alert, ready to dash off in an instant, he recoiled at Shin's voice.
"I told you we needed to find him earlier, Mannen," Shin's voice scolded Mannen, but Hayate knew he was really scolding him. He ducked behind a box in the alley, picking up a rotten cabbage to throw at the intruders.
"Shush," Mannen said sharply. "He wasn't ready until now. Tipi's never wrong about this."
Hayate hurled the cabbage at Mannen's chest and started to fly away. Even this weak, he was still quick. There was no way these strangers were hurting him, he thought fiercely. He had taken on a whole gang two days ago and was the last one standing, he remembered proudly.
"Hayate," a small voice called to him warmly. Hayate looked around for the person calling him. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice. He searched his memory for the name. Amazed, he found he knew the names of the Goliaths before him: Mannen, the one with the wild hair; Shin in the green stood next to Mannen; and Hajime with the long single strand of hair hanging down from both sides was behind the other two. A small blond boy on Hajime's shoulders held on tightly to both hair strands, as if he'd fall if he let go.
If it hadn't been for the small blond boy peeking out from behind Hajime's camouflage hat calling to him, Hayate would have run away. Kei, he remembered. Kei. He took a step toward Kei without thinking.
Mannen's hand stretched out towards the child. Off balance from Kei's voice, he didn't notice Mannen's quick grasp. Mannen had him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. His fists and feet flailed uselessly connecting with air. Mannen laughed good-naturedly, brushing rotten cabbage off his shirt with his free hand. "You're going to have to grow some, little man, before you can hurt me. Let's go home, Hayate."
I'm a man now, Hayate thought, and I hurt you badly this time, Mannen. I'm sorry! He sniffed back the tears.
Kei ignored him and read through the material again and again, looking for flaws and problems in Mannen's plan.
"Sasame and Gou aren't going to like this," Kei said, finally shutting the book, "But it's the only thing that'll work. But you're right. According to Mannen's calculations, we don't have much time left to try this."
"Why didn't he tell us?" Hayate asked, his voice muffled from beneath his hair.
Kei sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Because you're the bait, Hayate, and Mannen would never have asked you to do that. He loved you too much. I'm sure he was searching for another way to restrain Takako."
A cold wind filled the room, making Kei shiver. "Knock it off, Hayate!" he said tersely. "Things are hard enough without you acting childish."
Hayate stood before the check-in board, Mannen's tag in his hand. In, out, in, out, Hayate thought. He traced the imprint of Mannen's name with his fingers before slipping it in his pocket. He couldn't hang it on the in or the out column. Mannen isn't coming home any time soon, he thought. He walked into the room Mannen shared with Hajime and Shin.
Mannen's bedcovers were in a heap in the middle of his bed. A restless sleeper, Mannen's blankets slid off the bed nightly, landing on a heap on the floor. Shin and Hajime complained about his restlessness almost daily. Mannen talks in his sleep. Mannen's snores kept us up all night- but not tonight- not tomorrow, Hayate remembered.
He wiped away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He fought with Mannen more than with any of his other brother Knights. He hated the way Mannen bossed him around, making rules, demanding obedience. Hayate chaffed at Mannen's leadership and the way the older knight was always right. He hated the way Mannen talked down to him, treating him like a child at times, but he would have done anything to protect Mannen.
Underneath all their bickering and fighting was a union tighter than blood. They weren't best friends like Sasame and him, but Mannen was father, sensei, mentor, big brother, and friend. The emptiness inside him wouldn't go away. He flushed with a sense of shame and failure and felt the anger boiling inside him again.
He spotted Mannen's notebook on his desk, and picked up the battered marbled journal. Mannen kept copious notes, saying you never knew when you'd need them later. All labeled and dated, Mannen's journals over the years lined the corner bookshelf. Hayate had always found Mannen's scribbling habit funny, but he held the book tightly to his chest now. He sat in the middle of Mannen's bed, turned to Mannen's latest entries and read them, Mannen's blanket pulled around him tightly. The comforting smell of Mannen lingered still in the blanket and he read, wiping away his tears on the satin corner of the blanket.
Kei worked feverish on his program, lost in the land of zeros and ones. He reviewed each line of code and tried several changes. He was sure he was closer to solving the bug, he could feel it. He didn't think about Mannen, Hayate, or the others once. He just code crunched as if his life depended on it, occasionally emptying another bottle of the sweet berry tasting caffeine laden Bawls. The expansive row of cobalt-blue bottles was quite impressive.
A shadow fell on his screen, and he looked up, frustrated at the interruption. Hayate stood next to him, holding out Mannen's notebook toward him.
"Go away," Kei responded, returning to his keyboard, flexing his aching fingers briefly before starting to enter code again.
"Mannen figured it out," Hayate responded, "And we don't have a lot of time to implement it. Takako is growing stronger every day. Without a Pretear and now without- without-" Hayate's voice broke. It was too soon to say it out loud.
Kei sighed and pushed away from his workstation. He reached out and took the notebook from Mannen. "He could have kept all this on a disk," Kei muttered. He opened it to the pages Hayate marked and began skimming the entries. Mannen's plan was almost complete. The only missing part was where to find Takako, as far as Kei could figure out.
Hayate stood silent while Kei read. He finished, turned back to the beginning, and began again. Hayate shifted his feet anxiously. "If you can't be still, go away," Kei chided him sharply.
Hayate sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, hugging his knees, his face buried under his long hair, lost in his memories of the first time he saw Mannen.
He was barely five years old and Mannen looked like a wild giant with his frosty gray hair flowing in all directions, his eyes sharp and cold. He thought Mannen was twenty feet tall that day.
Mannen knelt on one knee in front of him and held out a hand. Hayate, wary from his experience on the streets, squinted at Mannen, not moving. He'd been running on the streets as long as he could remember. His body was a mass of bruises and cuts from a recent run in with an older gang of boys and he hadn't eaten in days. Shin's face looked horrified at the mostly dead child in front of them, but at the time Hayate thought Shin hated him. His body on alert, ready to dash off in an instant, he recoiled at Shin's voice.
"I told you we needed to find him earlier, Mannen," Shin's voice scolded Mannen, but Hayate knew he was really scolding him. He ducked behind a box in the alley, picking up a rotten cabbage to throw at the intruders.
"Shush," Mannen said sharply. "He wasn't ready until now. Tipi's never wrong about this."
Hayate hurled the cabbage at Mannen's chest and started to fly away. Even this weak, he was still quick. There was no way these strangers were hurting him, he thought fiercely. He had taken on a whole gang two days ago and was the last one standing, he remembered proudly.
"Hayate," a small voice called to him warmly. Hayate looked around for the person calling him. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice. He searched his memory for the name. Amazed, he found he knew the names of the Goliaths before him: Mannen, the one with the wild hair; Shin in the green stood next to Mannen; and Hajime with the long single strand of hair hanging down from both sides was behind the other two. A small blond boy on Hajime's shoulders held on tightly to both hair strands, as if he'd fall if he let go.
If it hadn't been for the small blond boy peeking out from behind Hajime's camouflage hat calling to him, Hayate would have run away. Kei, he remembered. Kei. He took a step toward Kei without thinking.
Mannen's hand stretched out towards the child. Off balance from Kei's voice, he didn't notice Mannen's quick grasp. Mannen had him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. His fists and feet flailed uselessly connecting with air. Mannen laughed good-naturedly, brushing rotten cabbage off his shirt with his free hand. "You're going to have to grow some, little man, before you can hurt me. Let's go home, Hayate."
I'm a man now, Hayate thought, and I hurt you badly this time, Mannen. I'm sorry! He sniffed back the tears.
Kei ignored him and read through the material again and again, looking for flaws and problems in Mannen's plan.
"Sasame and Gou aren't going to like this," Kei said, finally shutting the book, "But it's the only thing that'll work. But you're right. According to Mannen's calculations, we don't have much time left to try this."
"Why didn't he tell us?" Hayate asked, his voice muffled from beneath his hair.
Kei sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Because you're the bait, Hayate, and Mannen would never have asked you to do that. He loved you too much. I'm sure he was searching for another way to restrain Takako."
A cold wind filled the room, making Kei shiver. "Knock it off, Hayate!" he said tersely. "Things are hard enough without you acting childish."