Chapter Eleven: Pleasant Surprises

The Shooting Mirage, damaged but as gallant-looking as ever, was atop Kuroudo's bedside table, untouched ever since the young Gear Fighter arrived along with his mother and his interpreter --- although personal assistant was the more appropriate term, as Natsuuko did more than just translate words and sentences into hand and body gestures. But at that moment, she had her eyes fixed on the purple-colored Gear, eyes the hue of coal that reflected much sadness and sympathy. Just as he was rising to the top, she thought sadly, reaching out to run her fingers gingerly through the machine's hull, he was forced back down by an uncontrollable twist of fate. Why does life have to be so cruel? Why does it have to be so unfair? Why does---

"Don't touch that."

She flinched at his cold, bitter interjection, abruptly pulling her hand away from his most valuable possession, and turning around to apologize for her nosiness. It was a trait of hers that she definitely had to eliminate. "I-I'm sorry, Kuroudo-san. It won't happen again," she whispered in a voice barely above a whisper, her head bowed and her eyes downcast, afraid to lift them up and gaze at his handsome yet always-scowling face, and above all, afraid to look into his eyes that were as frigid and as piercing as ice. She had no idea why she feared to do such a simple act; all she knew was that the whole thing started when they first met, when her gaze first met his…

As he began to make his way forward, she stepped away from the spot she was standing on and allowed him to pass, her feet involuntarily pushing her away instead of her own free will. Before she could do any more, however, like leave the room and allow the other to once again sulk in his misery, his voice once again flooded into her ears, although this time, it was very much softer than it usually was. And it made her stop dead in her tracks, caught off-guard once again, but this time by the fact that he was talking to her --- and most especially because, surprisingly, he was opening up to her.

"I won first Gear Fight I participated in, in France seven years ago. Then and there I fell love with Gear Fighting, so much more when I was the winner and my friends ran to my side with happy faces. So I arrived in Japan, I immediately searched for other Gear Fighting enthusiasts, hoping to learn from and become skilled myself. I found solace in Team Griffon, in company of Mitsuke, Kazuya, and…"

His voice left him without warning, his emotions taking hold in turn, and it took Natsuuko a few more seconds to realize that he was already crying. She immediately panicked upon that realization, aware that she had never been good with words, aware that she would have to do something to comfort him very soon if he would not get a hold of himself, but just as his voice left him, her thoughts left her as he turned around and fixed his glassy Mediterranean blue eyes on her raven ones.

Kuroudo had wiped away most of the tears that had been shed, but there were a few droplets remained at the corners of his eyes, fragments of his anguished heart that were yet to be unleashed. "Tell me, please," he begged in a quivering voice, his melodiously pleading tone touching the innermost part of the young woman's soul, "what I do now? I know I did to Kyousuke was wrong. He was only trying help, but instead spoke harshly to him. I don't want this to continue anymore. I want nonsense to stop… but I don't know how."

After a brief period of silence and stillness that seemed to last for eternity, the young interpreter smiled and gestured towards the staircase that led to the apartment's living room. "My laptop's downstairs," she offered, her hands moving to the corresponding signals, before she held out her hand for him to take. "Shall we go?"

As soon as he finished rubbing his eyes in hopes to make the stinging pain disappear into thin air, Kyousuke refocused his gaze on the computer screen that had crisscrossing blue lines and a jumble of lines here and there. There was so much to do in so little time, that he knew, and he was determined to meet the deadline he had set upon himself, even if it would mean not sleeping for the third night in a row. Pausing only to briefly analyze the information that was posted on the upper right-hand corner of the monitor, he went back to his work, hammering away like the world was coming to an end and that he had to finish what he was doing before that would come.

An alert window then popped right in the middle of his project.

Kyousuke Jin, you have 1 new email message(s).

He reflexively glanced at the computer's clock, and wondered as soon as he had done so who would send him an email at that time of the night --- day, rather, as it was already past midnight. Unable to think of anything but the GFA, he concluded in silence that it was about the upcoming World Cup, which was in a few months' time. The genius Gear Master then went back to work on his project, a development he had been keeping a secret even to his teammates at the Tobita Club, ignoring the alert for the time being, as it wasn't very important for him.

However, he soon found himself compelled rather instinctively to check out what the message was all about, and so he minimized the window of the program he was using, clicking on Internet Explorer instead and logging into his email server. He typed in his username and password, clicked on the Log In tab, and waited for the page to load, tapping his fingers impatiently and nervously as he did so. He didn't understand why he felt so tense when in fact checking emails was an everyday thing to him; but when he saw from who it was and what it was all about, he instantly knew why.

And he felt like he was going to cry.

---

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay of this chapter; the original version went down when my computer crashed. It was longer and better than this one, too. *shakes head* Anyway… Kuroudo might've seemed somewhat OOC in this chapter, but I strongly believe that he has a dramatic side of that kind that the series has yet to expand on. After all, he did break down in a slightly similar manner at the last scene of his supposed battle with Takeshi in the World Cup, so… *grins* Besides, this is my fic. If you don't agree with me, it's your problem. XD

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