next chapter! ^-^ this one mostly deals with a memory of Nagi's. enjoy! ^_^
special thanks to my reviewers: Box(I know! NagixKen fics seem to hardly ever be finished ;_; It really sucks, and especially for that reason I'm determained to finish this story ^-^ I'm glad you enjoy it so far, I hope you continue to!=), Scratches(thanks for the review tho you've never seen the show ^-^ I love you!), Uzumaki-sama(yes, the pairing is very unlikely but just too adorable not to love! ^_^ a KenxNagi fan yay! ::glomp:: I'll definitely keep continuing=)
oh! just a short note. Kentarou's last name, Suteneko, translates as "stray cat" =3 how fitting XD
~*~
The dirt kicked up a little each time his sandals hit the road, hakama(1) clad legs pumping as he ran passed markets and restaurants. A gate slowly came into view, a teenage boy waiting patiently against it. A smile was on his lips and his brown hair was hanging into his bright green eyes.
"I was beginning to give up hope that you'd make it today, Nagi-kun."
The boy slid to a stop in front of him, bowing respectfully. "Sorry, Kentarou-sensei. I didn't realize it was so late."
The older brunette smiled at him. "I've told you before, Nagi-kun, just call me Ken." He turned and pushed the gate open, going inside. Nagi straightened and followed.
The next few hours were spent with Kentarou teaching his younger student samurai techniques, the two of them using fake wooden swords. Nagi jumped to the side, avoiding Kentarou's attack. He landed and thrust his wooden sword forward, only to have it blocked by his teacher's. In a flash he was on his back for the seventh time that day, staring up dazedly at the sky and the wind knocked out of him. Kentarou's smiling face came into view, eyes bright with suppressed laughter.
"You're getting better."
Nagi snorted in disbelief and took the offered hand, allowing the samurai to help him to his feet. "I always lose."
"This isn't about losing and winning," Kentarou said, brushing Nagi's clothes off for him, "it's about learning how to handle yourself. When we first began it would only take a few moments for you to end up on the ground."
Nagi sighed, saying nothing. His fingers loose on his wooden sword's handle. All he wanted was to be as good as Kentarou, and to be able to be a samurai like him. Then maybe, just maybe, the older boy would stop treating him like a kid.
"He's never going to learn anything that way, Ken-kun."
They turned their heads at the new voice, a samurai with blue hair and sideburns standing there smirking at them. Nagi immediately scowled.
"Kanta-kun," Ken greeted with a smile, walking over to hug his friend. "Where've you been?"
"Around." Kanta took Ken's wood sword, twirling it in his hand. "You still teach with these stupid things?"
"They're necessary for students not yet ready for a real katana."
"I'm ready!" Nagi insisted, glare remaining on Kanta. He'd never liked that man, something about him just wasn't right.
"Are you, little bishounen?"
"Yes!"
"No," Kentarou disagreed. "You're not ready, Nagi. We'll stick with the wooden swords, they'll help you prepare for the real thing."
"Nonsense," said Kanta. "No one can learn what it's like to use a real katana by practicing with an overgrown splinter." He tossed the fake weapon aside and pulled his sharp katana from it's place sticking in his belt. "Let me show him what it takes."
Before Kentarou could protest, Nagi had grabbed his teacher's sword, which had been resting against a tree nearby and faced Kanta. He held it up, posed and ready.
"Nagi, I said no!"
Both challengers ignored Kentarou, a smirk appearing on Kanta's face. He charged at his younger opponent, ready to show him what it really took to become a samurai. Ken could do nothing but watch as metal clashed together. Nagi kept his eyes on the blue-haired man, remembering the things his teacher had taught him. He attacked and defended with skill that was still not totally developed, but well on it's way. Unfortunately, he got a little too confident and blood splattered forth as Kanta's sword sliced across his chest. The younger boy stumbled back with a pained cry, hand going to his wound as his teacher called out to him.
Kanta watched in amusement as Kentarou ran forward to help his student. "Pathetic," he said, raising his katana so that the sun shone off Nagi's spilled blood that stained the blade. "You have a lot to learn, kid."
"Kanta get out of here!" Kentarou yelled at him, furious. The wound on Nagi's chest wasn't as deep as it looked, but still. He was just a kid! Kanta had no right. No fucking right! "I said go!!"
Kanta's smirk didn't fade as he complied with the demand, turning and walking away. "I suggest, Ken-kun, that you teach that child a little better for next time." And then he was gone.
Ignoring those words, Kentarou took Nagi inside his school and opened his stained robe, the fabric pooling around the younger brunette's waist so he could get at the bleeding wound. He cleaned it up, apologizing as Nagi winced in pain, then carefully wrapped it. "You'll be alright," he said, tenderness clear in his voice. "You gave me quite a scare."
"It's all that bastard's fault," Nagi said, fists clenched. "He shouldn't have shown up in the first place, I don't get why your friends with him. He's nothing but a.." His voice faltered as he found himself in Kentarou's warm embrace, the older boy being careful not to put any pressure on the newly acquired wound. "K-Ken-sensei?"
"I was so scared.." the older boy murmured, sliding his fingers into Nagi's soft hair. "So scared.."
Nagi's fists slowly unclenched. His hands lifted, hesitated a moment, then slid around Kentarou's waist as he returned the hug. "Ken.."
~*~
Nagi jolted awake and sat up, putting a hand to his forehead. That dream.. His room was dark, as was outside. The digital clock beside his bed shown it was 2:35 am in bold green letters. The brunette sighed, keeping his eyes closed as he flipped the lamp on with his powers, the bulb's soft glow illuminating the room without too much pain to his eyes. It'd been so long since he dreamt of the past. Of *him*. But seeing him in the graveyard must have thrown everything off more than he thought, and Nagi was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to see the Weiss assassin again. But how? Siberian didn't remember him, or what they had so very long ago. The time when the Samurai's sword ruled was many years ago, but to Nagi, it felt like yesterday.
The brunette unbuttoned his shirt and looked down at his revealed chest, a mostly faded scar marked his skin diagonally from that day in another lifetime, when Kanta's blade met his flesh. It was a day he'd never forget.
Nagi placed his hand to that mark, remembering Kentarou's gentle touch. So full of tenderness, and love..
"I won't lose you like last time, Ken. You're mine."
~*~
(1) : Hakama's are baggy pants from Ancient Japan that went over a robe. They tie around the waist in both the front and back, and have two pleats in the back while six pleats are in the front. (for those who didn't know ^-^)
special thanks to my reviewers: Box(I know! NagixKen fics seem to hardly ever be finished ;_; It really sucks, and especially for that reason I'm determained to finish this story ^-^ I'm glad you enjoy it so far, I hope you continue to!=), Scratches(thanks for the review tho you've never seen the show ^-^ I love you!), Uzumaki-sama(yes, the pairing is very unlikely but just too adorable not to love! ^_^ a KenxNagi fan yay! ::glomp:: I'll definitely keep continuing=)
oh! just a short note. Kentarou's last name, Suteneko, translates as "stray cat" =3 how fitting XD
~*~
The dirt kicked up a little each time his sandals hit the road, hakama(1) clad legs pumping as he ran passed markets and restaurants. A gate slowly came into view, a teenage boy waiting patiently against it. A smile was on his lips and his brown hair was hanging into his bright green eyes.
"I was beginning to give up hope that you'd make it today, Nagi-kun."
The boy slid to a stop in front of him, bowing respectfully. "Sorry, Kentarou-sensei. I didn't realize it was so late."
The older brunette smiled at him. "I've told you before, Nagi-kun, just call me Ken." He turned and pushed the gate open, going inside. Nagi straightened and followed.
The next few hours were spent with Kentarou teaching his younger student samurai techniques, the two of them using fake wooden swords. Nagi jumped to the side, avoiding Kentarou's attack. He landed and thrust his wooden sword forward, only to have it blocked by his teacher's. In a flash he was on his back for the seventh time that day, staring up dazedly at the sky and the wind knocked out of him. Kentarou's smiling face came into view, eyes bright with suppressed laughter.
"You're getting better."
Nagi snorted in disbelief and took the offered hand, allowing the samurai to help him to his feet. "I always lose."
"This isn't about losing and winning," Kentarou said, brushing Nagi's clothes off for him, "it's about learning how to handle yourself. When we first began it would only take a few moments for you to end up on the ground."
Nagi sighed, saying nothing. His fingers loose on his wooden sword's handle. All he wanted was to be as good as Kentarou, and to be able to be a samurai like him. Then maybe, just maybe, the older boy would stop treating him like a kid.
"He's never going to learn anything that way, Ken-kun."
They turned their heads at the new voice, a samurai with blue hair and sideburns standing there smirking at them. Nagi immediately scowled.
"Kanta-kun," Ken greeted with a smile, walking over to hug his friend. "Where've you been?"
"Around." Kanta took Ken's wood sword, twirling it in his hand. "You still teach with these stupid things?"
"They're necessary for students not yet ready for a real katana."
"I'm ready!" Nagi insisted, glare remaining on Kanta. He'd never liked that man, something about him just wasn't right.
"Are you, little bishounen?"
"Yes!"
"No," Kentarou disagreed. "You're not ready, Nagi. We'll stick with the wooden swords, they'll help you prepare for the real thing."
"Nonsense," said Kanta. "No one can learn what it's like to use a real katana by practicing with an overgrown splinter." He tossed the fake weapon aside and pulled his sharp katana from it's place sticking in his belt. "Let me show him what it takes."
Before Kentarou could protest, Nagi had grabbed his teacher's sword, which had been resting against a tree nearby and faced Kanta. He held it up, posed and ready.
"Nagi, I said no!"
Both challengers ignored Kentarou, a smirk appearing on Kanta's face. He charged at his younger opponent, ready to show him what it really took to become a samurai. Ken could do nothing but watch as metal clashed together. Nagi kept his eyes on the blue-haired man, remembering the things his teacher had taught him. He attacked and defended with skill that was still not totally developed, but well on it's way. Unfortunately, he got a little too confident and blood splattered forth as Kanta's sword sliced across his chest. The younger boy stumbled back with a pained cry, hand going to his wound as his teacher called out to him.
Kanta watched in amusement as Kentarou ran forward to help his student. "Pathetic," he said, raising his katana so that the sun shone off Nagi's spilled blood that stained the blade. "You have a lot to learn, kid."
"Kanta get out of here!" Kentarou yelled at him, furious. The wound on Nagi's chest wasn't as deep as it looked, but still. He was just a kid! Kanta had no right. No fucking right! "I said go!!"
Kanta's smirk didn't fade as he complied with the demand, turning and walking away. "I suggest, Ken-kun, that you teach that child a little better for next time." And then he was gone.
Ignoring those words, Kentarou took Nagi inside his school and opened his stained robe, the fabric pooling around the younger brunette's waist so he could get at the bleeding wound. He cleaned it up, apologizing as Nagi winced in pain, then carefully wrapped it. "You'll be alright," he said, tenderness clear in his voice. "You gave me quite a scare."
"It's all that bastard's fault," Nagi said, fists clenched. "He shouldn't have shown up in the first place, I don't get why your friends with him. He's nothing but a.." His voice faltered as he found himself in Kentarou's warm embrace, the older boy being careful not to put any pressure on the newly acquired wound. "K-Ken-sensei?"
"I was so scared.." the older boy murmured, sliding his fingers into Nagi's soft hair. "So scared.."
Nagi's fists slowly unclenched. His hands lifted, hesitated a moment, then slid around Kentarou's waist as he returned the hug. "Ken.."
~*~
Nagi jolted awake and sat up, putting a hand to his forehead. That dream.. His room was dark, as was outside. The digital clock beside his bed shown it was 2:35 am in bold green letters. The brunette sighed, keeping his eyes closed as he flipped the lamp on with his powers, the bulb's soft glow illuminating the room without too much pain to his eyes. It'd been so long since he dreamt of the past. Of *him*. But seeing him in the graveyard must have thrown everything off more than he thought, and Nagi was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to see the Weiss assassin again. But how? Siberian didn't remember him, or what they had so very long ago. The time when the Samurai's sword ruled was many years ago, but to Nagi, it felt like yesterday.
The brunette unbuttoned his shirt and looked down at his revealed chest, a mostly faded scar marked his skin diagonally from that day in another lifetime, when Kanta's blade met his flesh. It was a day he'd never forget.
Nagi placed his hand to that mark, remembering Kentarou's gentle touch. So full of tenderness, and love..
"I won't lose you like last time, Ken. You're mine."
~*~
(1) : Hakama's are baggy pants from Ancient Japan that went over a robe. They tie around the waist in both the front and back, and have two pleats in the back while six pleats are in the front. (for those who didn't know ^-^)