author's note: is it just me, or is the second chapter always the hardest to write? maybe that's why i usually never get past the first! :P

Chapter 2: Training

He woke the next morning from a restless sleep with the same heavy numbness, the same lack of motivation. He rubbed his eyes and tried to will himself awake. But a sharp pain in his right hand jolted him from his daze. He looked at his hand--it was red and scarred. The handshake; he had made a deal. What was he promised? And at what price?

Yet life went on as if nothing had happened--he went to football practice, play rehearsals, violin lessons, and sometimes, for seconds at a time, he forgot that he had sold his soul for revenge. But those seconds did not last long. The dull emptiness inside him reminded him as soon as it was pushed from his mind. Days passed this way, then weeks.

Then, she came and confronted him again....

"You're going to train me?!" Chad asked incredulously.

"You need all the help you can get, kid," Cree answered flatly.

"I told you to stop calling me 'kid'."

"Well, now you're my student and I can call you anything I want to."

"I don't believe this! I don't need training from you!"

"Come again? Who was beaten up by that runt, Wally?"

Chad growled in frustration. "That was a fluke! Besides, didn't you kiss Hoagie? I'd say that's a lot more embarrassing."

Cree gaped in horror. "How did you know that?!"

"I hacked into Father's personnel database," he shrugged.

"You're not supposed to do that!"

"What else was I supposed to do these past weeks? I've been sitting here doing nothing--I'm sick of it! I want to go up there and cause some pain!" He pointed in the general direction of the sky, and presumably, the Moonbase.

"Patience, my child, all in good time," came a voice from the depths of his mind. Chad could see from Cree's face that she could hear it as well. They were both wearing the same exact expression of carefully hidden fear. "You'll get your revenge, but first you must train under Cree. She is my finest apprentice."

"Thank you, Father." Cree forced a smile.

"Yes sir," Chad answered less enthusiastically.

And as quickly as it came, the presence in their minds left. An uncomfortable silence followed.

---

Once again inside the mansion, Chad followed Cree as she led him through long, dark corridors. He soon lost track of where he was in the complicated labyrinth of halls. Inside was even larger than it looked from the outside. Finally she stopped at a set of double doors and pushed them open without hesitation. He was relieved though surprised to see daylight, even as he squinted and shaded his eyes. But his eyes adjusted, and soon he was able to look around the room he had entered. It was large and long and empty. One side was entirely lined with windows, which explained the startling brightness.

Cree threw him a wooden sword. "That's your bokuto."

"I know what they're called," responded Chad peevishly. "And I prefer to call them bokken," he added.

"Oh? So you know kenjutsu?"

He only scowled in reply.

She smirked. "All right then, we'll start from the beginning."

---

"Your stance is horrible."

"Shut up."

"Stop saying that," Cree sighed.

"Then stop telling me what to do!"

"It's a little hard to train you without telling you what to do."

"I told you before that I don't need any training from you."

"Is that so? Well, then show me what you've got." She crossed her arms and waited.

Chad stared at the wooden sword in his hand, then glanced up at Cree. He debated her comment for a moment, then, furrowing his brow, grudgingly asked, "What do you mean?"

"Attack me," she stated simply.

"Where's your bokken?"

She chuckled at this. "Oh, believe me, I won't need one."

He frowned at her with narrowed eyes.

"You won't hurt me. I promise."

He so badly wanted to wipe that complacent look off her face. He wanted to prove once and for all that he didn't need schooling from her. Maybe then he'd be able to finally get his revenge. He gripped his sword with both hands and charged at her, raising his bokuto above his head, then brought it down quickly as he approached her.

He didn't even come close. She had anticipated his swing long before he even made it and stepped lightly out of the way. Effortlessly.

"Come on, are you even trying? You aren't holding back because you don't want to hit a girl, are you?"

He swung again, and again missed her.

"What are you doing?" she laughed at his poor technique.

"I'm...attacking...you!" he replied, aiming at her and hitting only air. "Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry," she snickered, "but it's just that you're so lame!" She jumped into a back handspring, and in one fluid motion, landed on her hands, split her legs and twisted them sideways, kicking him in the stomach, knocking him off his feet.

Chad struggled to stand, gasping for air. Cree walked over to him calmly.

"I just kicked you in your solar plexus. Stay still for a while."

He glared at her with clenched teeth. He could barely breathe and she wasn't even winded! With much effort, using his wooden sword for support, he stood.

"Careful--don't strain yourself!"

He didn't answer. Or rather, he couldn't, as he was still fighting for breath. Instead he threw down his bokken in disgust and headed for the door.

"Hey--watch it with that bokuto--those things are expensive! They don't grow on trees, you know!" She cracked up at her own joke as Chad left the room.

---

He had expected her to follow after him that day as he left the training room. She didn't. He thought she would confront him the next day at school, crowing her superiority over him, but he didn't see her at all.

He was glad. He never wanted to see her again. And yet....

Once again the days passed with the outward appearance of normality. He returned to his regular schedule. His days were always busy, full of constant activity. But nights were difficult. He began to dread nightfall and the restless hours before sunrise. He was always exhausted, but sleep eluded him. He spent the hours shivering in his bed, wondering if it had always been that cold. When he finally did sleep, he fell into nightmares and woke in a sweat.

---

He walked listlessly in the sickly, florescent-lit halls of his school, passing familiar faces, some of which greeted him. He acknowledged some of them, others he just let pass. He cared so little about anything. He came to realize in the past several weeks that he had no friends at all. Those he thought were his friends were merely people who wanted something or expected something from him. Just like everyone in the KND Global Organization. There were no true friends, no real loyalty. He was alone.

Continuing through the halls, he suddenly encountered her. Cree. She was standing in a small group of people, talking. Their eyes met for a brief moment.

What unusual eyes.

But the moment passed, and he continued on his way.

---

Chad lay lifelessly in his bed after another sleepless night. He would not go to school that day. He was tired of it all--why should he continue his daily routine? Spending his time jumping through hoops others have set before him, he was sick of it. He wondered how Cree spent her days. He vaguely remembered her now, from when they were both part of the KND. By name, if not much else. Numbuh Eleven...she had been known as the one of, if not the best fighter of the KND. He himself had always been better at strategizing and planning, and computer hacking. He fought when necessary, but it certainly had never been his forte.

He felt a prickly chill and knew immediately that he was not alone--in spirit, at least. He shivered and waited for the voice that would inevitably come.

"What are you doing, my child?" The question was harmless enough, but the tone was dark and menacing.

"Nothing," he replied, which was true.

"You must keep up appearances. You must go to school. You must continue your daily routine. You must jump through every worthless hoop set before you."

"Why?"

"Do not question me. You are to obey my orders."

The presence left his mind, but his head continued to ring and ache. He felt sick. But he had to obey. Was it fear that impelled him? It was somehow a primal instinct--Father must not be defied.

---

Life felt so pointless. What was he doing? He felt like he was standing still while everyone else was moving forward. He didn't even know what he wanted anymore. Revenge? What was that? He barely even thought about his betrayal any longer. When he did, he would feel a brief rush of anger and hatred, but it would soon pass and the same dull emptiness would return.

In an impulsive attempt at precipitating some sort of action, he returned to the mansion. He found it unlocked and surprisingly easy to enter. He walked through the dark, quiet hallways, vaguely worried that he would lose his way. Somehow the mansion looked different each time he returned to it. Yet he felt something drawing him to a particular destination.

He arrived at a familiar set of doors. He reached out to open it, hesitating for a moment before pushing them open cautiously, slowly, silently. He had returned to the training room. Cree was there, silhouetted against the windows, practicing by herself. She held a metal sword and swung it gracefully through the air, destroying invisible enemies. She spun, then thrust the katana in a fluid movement.

He watched her, amazed. She was flawless. If only he could....

"How long are you going to stand there?" She turned to face him.

He hadn't realized she noticed him.

She walked up to him. "Well?"

He gathered his nerve and requested, "Train me."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"Train me, please. I need to become stronger."

"Well, that's pretty obvious." She seemed to consider for a moment. "Will you actually do what I say this time?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. Then after a small scoff of disbelief from her, added, "most of the time."

She grinned. "All right, I'll train you."

---

---

author's note (redux): bizarro does not know kenjutsu. bizarro's only knowledge of kenjutsu comes from watching anime and reading manga, and the occasional live action samurai movie. which is why bizarro's descriptions of sword fighting are extremely vague.
why is bizarro speaking in the third person? bizarro does not know.