He wasn't home alone, that Manganji Takeshi realized, as soon as he arrived in the dining room to help himself with a glass of water. It was rather peculiar to find his parents sitting comfortably in the living room at eight o'clock in the morning, to say the least, as they were true-blue workaholics who would leave for work early and arrive home late. He, wearing only a pair of jogging pants with a towel slung over his shoulder, was about to join them in whatever they were doing, when he noticed that they had a guest --- a tall, elderly, intelligent-looking man in glasses.
Before he could return to his room to change into something more decent than a pair of trousers, however, his mother excused herself from her male companions, got up, and rushed over to him. "Good morning, dear. Do you always dress like that when you come down for breakfast?" she greeted, leaning forward to give him a peck on the cheek.
"I was just about to change-" he began defensively, abashed at his mother's reaction and the fact that she had gushed over him like he was a baby, but she cut him off by calling for one of their maids to bring out one of his shirts. He could only sigh as she went on to order the cook to whip up a fancy breakfast for him, being as meticulous with her instructions as ever. "Mom, it's okay, really. I'm not hungry and I'm going to be-"
"Nonsense. If there's anyone you can't lie to, that's me, darling. I'm your mother. Now, you are going to eat and… oh, thank you, Kiiro." She nodded at the maid in dismissal, then began to slip the shirt into her son's bare torso.
Takeshi could not help but wince, not caring if his mother would see his expression and scold him for it. First off, the shirt she was making him wear was the one he swore he never would. It was the one she had gotten him for his birthday, and it had a large teddy bear in the middle. He hated teddy bears. And, to top it off, its color was green. He loathed green, and only his best friend Tobita Ririka looked good in green. Second, the way she was treating him was simply intolerable. He was eighteen, an international Gear Fighting celebrity, and an entrepreneur-in-training, the next CEO of the Manganji Engineering Group, and there was his mother, fussing over him as if he was some helpless kid.
She noticed the look, alright. "Now, don't be ungrateful, dear. This is for your own good. But while your meal's being prepared, why don't you join your father in the living room and help him pick something for his collection? Mr. Isuji brought lots of very pretty artifacts, I can't even decide which one I want. Maybe you'll even find one you'd like to have."
The suggestion wasn't very appealing, as he didn't like antique stuff as much as his parents did, but it was the only way to escape the clutches of his still-gushing mother, even if it meant showing up in front of their visitor with a green teddy shirt. As he trudged towards the living room, he suddenly understood why they were home. Of course. Isuji Arusu, a family friend, was an artifact dealer, and his obsessed parents were determined to purchase something before going off to their offices. And while relics of such caliber and age were extremely expensive, his family, the richest in all of Japan, had more than enough money to maintain an impressive collection. To prove that fact was his 80 billion yen Crush Gear, Gaiki.
"Ah, Takeshi. Glad you could join us. Your father's having a particularly hard time selecting which one he should add to his growing collection, and I think you'll be able to help him out." Arusu allowed a toothy smile as the young man settled beside his father, who also greeted him at his arrival. The merchant's smile lingered just a moment longer. "That's a nice shirt you got there."
Takeshi rolled his eyes and leaned back against the cushioned seat, running his hand through his ungelled black hair. Mr. Isuji was one of their friendlier acquaintances, and while he appreciated how he had been welcomed, he certainly didn't like the comment about his shirt. It only made him even more uncomfortable than he already was. "Where were these discovered, Isuji-san?" he asked, scanning the relics that were laid on the table in front of them one by one. Most of the objects for sale were made of gold, and gold was something he fancied.
Taking a necklace from the pile, the other answered, "Remember the meteor that crashed in Yokosuka? This was found buried somewhere in the crater it created, and as you can see it's a very beautiful piece of jewelry. It was believed to be a part of a bigger set, so a search was conducted to check if there were more. And indeed, there were more. In fact, the site had much more to offer than priceless jewels." He looked at the young man's deep brown eyes, fueling the sudden interest that had taken over him. "Information. Historical information. I've been there, and I've seen the artifacts the scientists hauled into their labs for investigation. And there's even this rumor that there's some sort of ancient temple deep down the crater…"
The youth's father let out a laugh. "Now, now, Arusu, don't get my son into that, or else I'll lose another 80 billion at another one of those grand projects of his. Not that I mind, of course, but for an eighteen-year-old to spend that much?" He laughed again, his friend joining him, and then turned to look at his son, who was staring at something among the heap of relics, almost as if he was entranced.
"How much is this?" Takeshi suddenly asked, taking a necklace from the pile and showing it to the merchant. It had, by far, the simplest design; it had a thin gold chain with a small, green-hued stone – an emerald, maybe? – for a pendant. He had seen better ones, and they were certainly much newer and in more affordable prices, but for some reason he just could not stop looking at it. Part of him believed that it was somehow calling out to him, but a greater part insisted that it was nothing extraordinary; he liked it simply because he knew it would look perfect on Ririka.
"Takeshi, honey, breakfast is ready. Come on, you don't want it to grow cold," his mother interrupted, going into the living room to accompany her only son for breakfast. Before completely leading him away – much to her surprise and wonder, he did not complain or resist this time – she turned to look at her husband and told him to get that necklace for their little boy, and that it was better than letting him waste another 80 billion by playing with cars.
"I think he wants to give it to his girlfriend," she finished in a whisper, winking.
-x-
"-thing that has transpired between us, but you have to admit that he's the best option we've got. Kyousuke even said..."
He stirred as his name was mentioned by a familiar voice in a hushed, controlled tone, the outside world seemingly connecting into his subconsciousness that had been hovering in the darkness for quite sometime. A few hours, maybe, but then again who was he to tell? As soon as he let out a groan, apparently breaking the spell of sleep and throwing him back into the realm of reality and pain, he felt the ripples around him disappear for a short moment in silent anticipation. "My head," he whimpered, struggling to sit up but was gently guided back into the comfortable pillows. Despite his still-blurry vision, he knew that those arms belonged to his best friend. His hand immediately shot up to the side of his head in reflex, and wincing, he finished, "I'm okay now. I think."
His comrades were unconvinced, most especially the blonde-haired member of their quartet. Marume Kuroudo knew him well enough to be able to tell when he'd be lying, and at that certain moment, when silence was at its peak, he saw the Gear Fighter raise a flaxen eyebrow. It was his cue to confess. "Okay, I'm not. Satisfied?" He couldn't help but cringe as another flash of pain seemed to tear his skull open. Maybe he should stop talking and sleep the rest of the day.
"But you know, for one who'd just been beaten up by bullies, you're in pretty good shape," Marino Kouya, the captain of their Gear Fighting team, commented as he bent forward to take a closer look at the injured lad, the concern in his brown eyes evident. He was only sixteen years old and a freshman in Hitotsubashi High, but barely two months ago, he had grabbed the title of Crush Gear World Champion and received the corresponding glory and fame that came with it in the package. It got into his head, of course; they had all expected that. But not one of his showing-off bouts ever lasted long, because their fiery team manager, Hanano Kaoru, had almost always been by his side, ready to whack him with whatever she was holding if the need would arise.
"Yeah, tell me about it. If I get into a brawl, I'd have so much more than a black eye. But then again, my opponents would get even worse injuries. Do you think I'll let them get away if they did that to me?" At those words, Oriza Jirou let out a hearty laugh, and Kouya joined him in his laughing fit soon after. He was the largest among the four, yes, and also the most violent, but deep inside, the ex-baseball pitcher had a soft spot. He was the kind of person who valued friendship to a great extent, and one who would never allow his friends be hurt or insulted, in any way. He'd retaliate without hesitation, striking hard and true. Cracking his knuckles and smirking at the spectacled boy who had been a good friend despite his aloof demeanor, he asked, "Would you like me to go after those three? Just say the word, Gear Master, and I'll go remind them that if they mess with a member of the Tobita Club, they mess with all of us. And they really shouldn't."
Kuroudo then interjected calmly, "There's no need, Jirou." Being the most levelheaded and rule abiding among the four Gear Fighters, he had been anticipated to spoil the fun, and his friends were just waiting him to say something about how the school administration had taken care of the bullies, just like how the rules go. But to their surprise --- even Kyousuke didn't see it coming --- the blonde let out a roguish smile, one that he rarely sported. "I already took care of them," he announced, shifting to a more comfortable position at the foot of bed. He then shrugged as the others continued to gape at him in astonishment and disbelief. "What did you think? I'd just sit around and allow them to get away with what they did?"
"You should have told us!" the brown-haired freshman protested. "I wanted to see you give those stooges some thwapping!"
"Thwapping? No, not that. I didn't have my kojiki then. And even if I did, I wouldn't have used it. I don't want to get suspended for picking a fight, thank you. I just… well, threatened them that if they won't go to the principal's office to confess their wrongdoing and be punished accordingly, I'm going to make sure they're going to be limping on their way home. They didn't like the price they'd have to pay if they'd attempt to get away with their bullying, and so they agreed to see the principal. And they got suspended."
"Wait. You just said that you don't want to get suspended for picking a fight, but you threatened to do so if they won't go see the principal." The expression on Jirou's face wasn't very clear; it seemed to be a cross between a frown and an excited grin. "What if Ebata didn't give in to your threat, and he challenged you instead? You'd let us fight him in your place, then?"
He smirked, a mischievous glimmer leaking through the corners of his Mediterranean blue eyes. "Oh, no. You got it all wrong. I'm going to get suspended if I pick a fight inside the campus. But if by fate's loving hand I run into them on my way home from practice..." He intentionally left his sentence unfinished, knowing that they would understand what he wanted to tell them in no time, and indeed, they did. In no time, Kouya was on his feet, saluting the blonde for his brilliance, and at the same time, complaining that he should've just gone ahead and done that instead of blackmailed the idiots to accept suspension. Jirou, on the other hand, went on another laughing fit as he imagined Kuroudo poking the bullies with a wooden stick until their fear sensors would register pokiphobia, and because they were making too much noise in the medical wing, the school nurse came marching in, clearly annoyed, and sent the three of them off.
"Yay. Go Kuroudo." It may not have been an eye for an eye, but for Kyousuke, it was the thought that counted.
---
Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay, everyone. I had to make revisions for this chapter, and that took quite a while to accomplish. Anyway, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, for your nice comments and support. I really appreciate it. Rest assured that even though I'm busy with schoolwork now, I'll do everything I can to come up with an update once in a while. Thanks again, guys!
PS. For the teddy bear art, please see my fanfic blog - livejournal[dot]com[slash]users[slash]kuroudo - and comment if you wish. You may also state your requests, suggestions, questions, and well, anything you want to say regarding my fics. =)