You Don't Need a Heartbeat to Follow Your Heart

Chapter 6 Preparation

By Threshie

AN: Bows I apologize for the extremely long time this chapter was in coming. I'm still unsure of its contents, but I've decided it's good enough after reading it over. I hope it doesn't disappoint anybody… Sorry the plot seems so slow, but this is a character-driven story after all. Here's some more Dragon Slayer/Dilandau interaction, as well as a bit of humor and a bit of drama. Enjoy!

Everyone turned to look as the door to the throne room was opened at last. Migel leaned inside and nodded once, gesturing for them to follow him. Dilandau grinned to himself, heading out the door with the rest of the boys. He'd sent Migel to make sure that Folken had really gone back to his study before they left the throne room, lest they give away the act they'd so carefully done for him.

Swiftly, the group returned to their quarters and hurried inside.

The silver-haired boy nearly winced as he stepped through the door--the atmosphere itself seemed heavier, sadder. Seeing Viole's unhappy expression, then Dallet's pained one, he sighed. The fun part of the plan was over--now came the tricky one.

"Well, that went smoothly!" He declared a bit overly loudly, trying to break the ice. The others who had been with him murmured excitedly in agreement, seating themselves on the floor or the beds and making themselves comfortable. They knew that all they could do right now was wait for Folken to inform the Madoushi of Dilandau's strange behavior and enlist them to fix it. Sitting down on the floor beside Dallet, the silver-haired boy asked, "Still here?" Dallet sighed, nodding a little.

Opening his eyes, he looked at his commander, asking softly, "D...do you think...it'll work?"

Dilandau smirked at the memory of Folken's expression. "I think Folken was on the verge of panic! He probably couldn't get back to the communications room and call the Madoushi fast enough." He'd never accept a resignation from me so easily, not when all he has to do is give the word… How disgusting. I'm not really free to do whatever I want, not unless it's within their range of tolerance…

"Dilandau-sama--" The brown-haired boy began, but a wince cut his sentence short. "D-Diliandau-sama," he began again a moment later, sighing, "A-are you...sure you w-want to do this...? I...don't like th...the idea...of the Madoushi...hurting you j-just...to help me."

"I refuse to back down now," Dilandau frowned, "They've hurt so many people, including you and I, that I'm determined to rid the world of them once and for all. Besides...even if all of those other people hadn't been involved, I would kill them for you, so that you could rest." And so that I could have power over them for once, the damned little manipulative--

"Dallet's question brings to mind another one, though," Gatti spoke up, breaking Dilandau's train of thought before he could embellish it with some of his favorite profanities. Coming over, the blonde boy knelt and asked softly, "How do they usually come, Dilandau-sama? I don't think we've ever been present when they....took you away. We have to be able to follow them once they have you, though, and I'm afraid they'll transport you with a spell."

"That would be horrible!" Shesta exclaimed, overhearing them. This drew everyone else's attention, and before Dilandau could reply to Gatti's question, every Dragon Slayer in the room had crowded around to listen and offer their own suggestions.

"We could catch one and force him to take us to their keep as soon as he appeared," Guimel offered.

"Or knock his lights out and hold him hostage 'til the others reversed their work on Dallet!" Migel spoke up.

"We could put a tracker on Dilandau-sama…." Shesta was looking more and more unhappy about Dilandau being the martyr in this plan.

"But what if the spell is tailored to transport only a person and their clothing? The tracker would be left behind," Gatti, ever the practical one, pointed out. "Then they'd have teleported Dilandau-sama away without a trace!"

"You're all getting ahead of yourselves." Dilandau interrupted. Instantly, the others quieted, looking at him with mixed guilt and worry in their eyes. "They can't use teleportation spells on others, only themselves," he informed the concerned crowd, sweatdropping when they all sighed in relief upon hearing this. I guess it would be pretty horrible to bait the Madoushi into taking me away and then not be able to follow, he decided. Observing the worried and concerned looks on his Dragon Slayers' faces, he sighed.

"You all know the Madoushi are a nasty bunch," he told them pointedly. "You all also know that whenever they take me away, they...usually hurt me. All I've got say about this is that it's essential that they reach their keep before they know you're following them. If they realize our plan, they'll have me prisoner and Dallet will still be suffering. Understand?"

"Yes, Dilandau-sama..." The others murmured unhappily.

"They usually come at night," Dilandau continued, trying to ignore the pained looks in most of their eyes--any of them would rather they were taken by the Madoushi than the sorcerers hurting him, but the plan required him as the target. "They'll probably poke me with some damned needle, so I doubt I'll be awake enough to keep track of where we're going." He sighed. No wonder he couldn't remember where their keep was--he'd always been drugged whenever they'd taken him there! To his left, Shesta sighed, too.

"Are we supposed to follow in our Guymelefs, Dilandau-sama?" He asked dubiously.

"I think they'd detect them too easily," Gatti offered his opinion. Realizing he'd cut off Dilandau's chance to reply, he bowed his head, "Sorry, Dilandau-sama..."

The silver-haired boy frowned, "It's fine, Gatti. You...have a point." Slowly, six heads turned to stare at him in surprise, and he sweatdropped. They act like I disregard anything Gatti says, he thought in annoyance, stating, "We can't go in our Guymelefs--even if you had yours, mine would still be here in the bay. However, a sword alone is no match for a sorcerer's magic, so I suggest we arm ourselves with something extra."

"Such as?" Migel asked. For some reason, the brunette always seemed to know when his commander had something particular in mind.

Dilandau grinned, standing and heading for his dresser. Opening the top drawer, he rummaged through a myriad of black and red socks until he finally located his prize--a pair of shiny red gauntlets.

"These," the silver-haired boy explained with what must have been a rather eerie fanged grin, "Are a new toy of mine. I made them myself!"

"How can gloves help us fight the Madoushi, Dilandau-sama?" Shesta voiced all of their thoughts uneasily.

Shrugging, Dilandau snatched up one of the socks from the drawer and ordered them, "Watch." He slipped one of the gauntlets on. The others watched closely and a bit confusedly as he tossed the sock in the air, clenching his gloved hand into a fist and pointing toward it. Instantly, four slender jets of flames spewed from the knuckles of the gauntlet, enveloping and melting the sock.

It had burnt away to a sifting of black ash before it reached the floor.

"I call them Fire Knuckles," Dilandau grinned, slipping the one he'd been wearing off again. "They can't burn things as quickly as the flamethrower on my Alseides, but they're plenty destructive enough to light cloth on fire. Or shall I say black robes?" The Dragon Slayers, recognizing the reference to the Madoushi choice of clothing, smiled amongst themselves and began to murmur excitedly about this new weapon.

"But there aren't enough for all of us, Dilandau-sama," Gatti pointed out in his usual logical fashion. In a good mood from burning something, Dilandau decided not to slap him this time.

Instead, he explained, "I was working on ones for you all, but I haven't painted them yet." He sweatdropped, "So they're currently a metallic grey, instead of blue to match your uniforms. However, they work, which means you're all fully armed!"

Standing and coming over to examine the gauntlets, Viole asked softly, "How do they work?"

"I was wondering that, myself!" Migel joined them, smiling. "If we're going to use them to torch Madoushi, we'd better practice."

"All right…" Dilandau sweatdropped, turning back to the dresser to dig some more. The Dragon Slayers sweatdropped, too, when they realized he'd crammed eight more pairs of gauntlets into the sock drawer alone. When he saw how they were all staring, the silver-haired boy scowled, snapping, "What're you sitting around for? Get the hell over here and get your pair!"

"Yes, Dilandau-sama," the room (with the exception of Dallet) chorused, and Dilandau suddenly found himself surrounded by Dragon Slayers again. Someone tell me again why I keep this many people around…? 'Because then you're not alone,' some distant, gentler part of him responded, but his much-louder self-absorbed side drowned it out with, 'C'mon, you need something to slap!'

Frowning and trying to ignore his confusing inner thoughts, he handed a pair of grey metal gauntlets to each boy. Every one of them poked and prodded the new weapons, examining them from every angle like they were made of some precious material.

"A-hem," Dilandau cleared his throat, glaring when they finally tore their eyes away from the new toys long enough to acknowledge his presence. "Do you want to know how to use them, or are you content to stare at them all day?"

"I'm game to learn," Migel replied, slipping his pair of gauntlets on easily. "I'm just not really sure where the trigger is, eheh…"

"Your emotions are the trigger," Dilandau answered rather sourly, scowling.

"Really?" The brunette smiled brightly, "You mean if somebody startled me right now I could torch your hair off by accident?" The others paused for a moment, and Dilandau sweatdropped as they began to sputter at the mental images.

"Shut up and listen!" He growled, snapping them out of their amusement.

"Yes Dilandau-sama…"

"Sorry, Dilandau-sama…"

"Dilandau-sama, where does the fuel load into these things?" Guimel held his upside-down, peering at it curiously. "There doesn't seem to be enough room for flame-thrower fuel in these little knuckle-holes…"

"They run out easily," Dilandau answered, glad somebody was interested in learning about the weapon instead of—from his point of view--goofing off. "However—"

"How're we going to burn the Madoushi, then, if we run out after a few blasts?" Kagero asked, then cringed a little—he hadn't meant to interrupt, after all.

Miraculously, as far as the others were concerned, Dilandau didn't slap him or even shoot him a glare. For some reason, Kagero never got slapped or anything…maybe it was because he was older than everyone else but Ryuon.

"However," Dilandau repeated, opting not to even look at Kagero, "I've designed a fuel pack that gives you a hundred jets for each knuckle." He held up one of his gauntlets, pointing at the top inside of it as he explained, "The feed lines plug in here, and then run up your arm to the fuel pack, which is placed under your Zaibach shoulder pads."

"Wow!" The Dragon Slayers all gazed at their commander in starry-eyed admiration.

"I wish you were in charge of Zaibach, Dilandau-sama," Migel grinned, "You'd do a hell of a better job than Dornkirk-sama, that's for sure!"

Dilandau blinked. "Lead Zaibach? That'd be a terrible job!"

"Why?" Guimel leaned forward, green eyes widening a little.

"Think about it," the albino sweatdropped, "I'd be stuck commanding everybody else! I wouldn't be sent out to destroy anything firsthand. I wouldn't even be able to burn any enemies' countries down!"

"Unlike us," Gatti said pointedly, holding up his gauntlets, "At least, if you'd teach us how."

Dilandau sighed—for once, Gatti's practicality didn't annoy him. He was glad somebody was still concentrating on the task at hand.

"That's right," he told Gatti, slipping on his own Fire Knuckles, "We can chat later—right now you have to learn to use these so that when the time comes, you can torch some sorcerers!"

There was a small cheer from the group, and they all quickly put their own gloves on. Marching all the time seemed to have its benefits—in very little time, Dilandau had them all standing in a horizontal row with a line of his rather unfortunate red and black socks in front of them.

"All right," he frowned, standing off to the side. "These are emotion-propelled—do you know what that means?"

"We've got to be freaked-out to use 'em…?" Migel ventured to ask, smiling sheepishly.

Dilandau sweatdropped, "Not exactly. It means that you need to want to hit something for them to work. Try and shoot a jet at your designated sock." That sentence sounded ridiculous, he thought, but thankfully the other boys were all too focused on their task at hand to notice. Each raised his gauntlets in front of him, clenching his hands both into fists and leveling the knuckles at the sock on the floor some four feet in front of him.

Dilandau watched them concentrate, frowning determinedly or closing their eyes—whatever their version of concentration was. On the end, Viole stood with his eyes closed, an unhappy expression on his face. The others' eyes all shot open and they turned to look when eight jets of flames sputtered fourth from the purple-haired Slayer's gauntlets, licking at the poor black sock he'd been assigned to.

Dilandau, meanwhile, was rather surprised it had worked. Just willing the flames to come didn't work—you had to have a reason and believe in it enough. I wonder…"Viole…" He frowned thoughtfully, coming over beside the purple-haired boy, who was staring at his Fire Knuckles in surprise. "Good job. What were you thinking about when it worked?"

"I…was thinking of Dallet," Viole admitted, sighing. "It made me sad…is that why it worked?"

"Any emotion works, I suppose," Dilandau shrugged. Turning to the others, he commented, "Viole just demonstrated what you need to do to make the gauntlets work—feel something."

The purple-haired boy fidgeted, looking a bit embarrassed that the others were all looking his way. Dilandau, meanwhile, commanded, "Aim at those socks again! This time, however, I want you guys to imagine a scene. Close your eyes."

The others obeyed this order, carefully leveling the gauntlets at the socks beforehand. Nodding, Dilandau slipped his own gauntlets off lest he unintentionally burn something (it wasn't any fun unless it was on purpose) and took a deep breath. "You…are in a darkened room. The only light comes from a few ragged slits in the ceiling, and even that is faint." He checked their expressions—most looked uneasy.

Satisfied with the scene he'd laid, he continued, "There are others in the room—not people, but shadowy things just beyond your vision. Several venture into the room, passing by you. You can see now that they wear black robes—Madoushi." Almost immediately, the Dragon Slayers all frowned or made some expression of unhappiness. It apparently wasn't strong enough, though, because no flames came from the gauntlets.

Frustrated with this, Dilandau decided to try something shocking. "The Madoushi have a person with them—a prisoner." He frowned, "The prisoner has been drugged with something—he's too weak to resist them right now. He's pale, and has pale hair as well." Finally, he thought, as looks of horror began to cross the other boys' faces. He took another deep breath, continuing his narration. "As they pass by, you hear him calling for someone. He whispers…'Shesta!'"

The blonde boy's eyes shot open at the sound of his name—but at the same time, flames shot from his pair of gauntlets. Dilandau smirked, continuing, "No one answers him—the Madoushi pretend he didn't speak. He's barely able to stand, and stumbles when the sorcerers shove him roughly forward. Sinking to his knees, he cries, 'Migel!'"

Since they were used to him calling Gatti second—he almost always did when distressed--, the Dragon Slayers were startled to hear the brunette's name. This resulted in several of their pairs of gauntlets shooting flames at the target, as well. Migel, like Shesta, immediately broke his concentration as soon as he heard his name. Also like Shesta, the thought of Dilandau at the mercy of the Madoushi angered him enough that his Fire Knuckles torched the target. In fact, the floor and nearby wall got scorched, too.

Startled out of imagining the scene, Migel glanced at his commander and realized that making him feel angry had been the point all along. The same with Shesta…

"But Migel isn't there," Dilandau seemed to almost be enjoying himself while painting the horrible scene into their minds. "No one is…only the shadowy figures who have brought him there. The sorcerers have no sympathy for their prisoner. Angrily, they drag him to his feet—"

"Stop!" The rather cruel story was interrupted by Guimel. Much to Dilandau's chagrin, the fluffy-haired boy had accomplished the job he'd been attempting quicker—the startlement of the interruption surprised the others' gauntlets into spewing flames all at once.

Frowning, the albino boy came over to look Guimel in the eye. "You interrupted me," he said rather menacingly. Really, it was difficult to sound angry when he saw that the other boy was actually in tears over what he'd been saying.

Hanging his head, Guimel answered softly, "I'm sorry, Dilandau-sama…but that's really a horrible thing to be telling us. I-I understand how these things work now." He held up his pair of gauntlets, which he'd slipped off shortly after the interruption. Looking tearful again as he recalled the story, he whispered, "Y-you made your point—don't you understand how much it hurts to imagine something like that?"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Dilandau grumbled, crossing his arms and glancing at the sock that had been in front of Guimel. Not surprisingly, it had been turned to ash. Blinking, he then glanced down the row of targets—every one had been blackened. Sweatdropping, he muttered, "It almost worked too well—you guys really care about me that much?"

Without a second's hesitation, the entire room responded emphatically, "I'd die for you, Dilandau-sama!" Even Dallet, who already had.

If the Madoushi did come for him, Dilandau thought, they would likely all have their chance.

End Chapter 6

Heartbeat Akugi! Volume 5

----Akugi #11

Dilandau: "These are emotion-propelled—do you know what that means?"

Migel: "I know!" (Sagely) "It means 'propelled by emotions'." (Nod-nod)

Others: "…." (Sweatdrop)

----Akugi #12

Dilandau: "Lead Zaibach? That'd be a terrible job!"

Guimel: "Why?" (Wide eyes) "Maybe you could make them serve edible food in the mess hall! And get interior heating on the Vione! And give us quarters that are more than four feet across!"

Migel: (Sweatdrop) "You know, Dilandau-sama, he's making a good point…Dornkirk-sama sucks."

----Akugi #13

Migel: "Such as?"

Dilandau: (Grins and stands, going over to dig in his dresser)

Dragon Slayers: (Whispering amongst themselves curiously)

Shesta: "Five bucks says it has to do with fire."

Migel: "In his dresser?" (Sweatdrop) "Okay, Shesta, I'll double that to bet it's a piece of clothes!"

Guimel: (Thoughtfully) "Maybe he wants us to strangle the Madoushi with his socks."

Dilandau: (Returns with Fire Knuckles)

Dragon Slayers: (Watch in confusion while he attempts to explain them, their bets still on their minds too much to listen)

Shesta: (Still thinking of his bet and hoping from the red paint job that the gloves have to do with fire) "Um…how are a pair of gloves going to help us fight the Madoushi?"

Dilandau: (Grins and pulls a sock out of the dresser)

Dragon Slayers: (Gasp in surprise, then fork money over to Guimel in defeat)

Dilandau: Oo;; "I don't think I want to know…"

AN: Just thought I'd mention this--the idea for Fire Knuckle gauntlets is taken directly from a dream I had recently in which Dilandau had a pair of these gloves and was burning something on the wall of a supermarket. ;; Seriously! Folken was in the dream, too, but didn't have as fun of a part--he just got to get tied up and poisoned. ;; No, I don't hate him...my dreams are just really vivid and weird, that's all.

And the gauntlets were emotion-based in the dream, too, so I hope by keeping that in the design I didn't make things too cheesy. LOL. Wonder how Dilandau came up with a weapon that works on emotions without assistance? The world may never know.

And Wink, I don't have my handy Japanese dictionary with me tonight, but I believe 'akugi' means 'malicious'—I got it from Fushigi Yuugi's little parodies of their own stuff, which are called 'Fushigi Akugi'. 'Fushigi Yuugi' means 'the mysterious play', while 'Fushigi Akugi' means 'the malicious play' and is a parody of the title. ;; And I guess I'm parodying their parodying style…or somethin'. Sorry for the long AN! Oo;; Whoah… Anyhow, hope this was a good chapter--review if you think it was worthy of your reading time! (Anybody else notice the chapters are getting longer? Hopefully that's a good thing.)