When Kurama returned with food, he was disturbed by the sight that greeted him. Bekka was still on the bed, but she was rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Uncertain what he was seeing, he cautiously walked around the bed to see her face. Her eyes were blank and unresponsive, fixed on something he could not see. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. "Bekka?" he said, trying to get her attention, to no avail. "Bekka?" louder, again, no response. He was perplexed by this strange behavior. "Absinthe?" he tried, but with no response. What the hell was he supposed to do with her now?
"She is still grieving," Loki's voice spoke to him. "It's going to take a while for her to stop."
"Why couldn't she be over it already before you brought her here?" Kurama felt his anger at this Loki thing and the whole situation growing.
"Because, Kurama, she would have tried to kill herself."
"And the problem with that would be?" 'Honestly, these humans!' he thought in exasperation.
"I am not human. While in the game, she is not permitted to die."
"Then release her and let her die."
"It is not that easy, kitsune. I said before, the moves are set. The humans have a game called chess. In that game, each piece is only allowed to make certain moves. The game cannot end until a specific piece is trapped. Until that happens, the game continues." Loki's voice paused, "What will help her is comforting her and giving her something else to focus on."
"Why is it up to me to fix what you broke? I never agreed to be one of your chess pieces. I most certainly did not wish for this."
"As she said, you are the best option. We need her to learn a few other things from you as well."
"'We?' And what now?"
"Oberon, and she needs to learn to be a thief as well. Going around in public with that empathy of hers is going to be a challenge, but focusing her mind is part of controlling the elements."
"Why does she need to be a thief?" This god had a lot of gall!
Same reason she needs to know martial arts and herbology and magic. To continue in the game. Tomorrow, start training her, test her, force her to focus. For now, she needs to eat and sleep again."
"Why…"
Before Kurama could finish his question, Loki cut him off, "I promised you information. She is not your only source, you know. Hold her, make her eat, and put her back to sleep."
Though the god had at no time appeared, Kurama knew he was gone. Masking an exasperated sigh, he composed himself enough to climb on the bed next to Bekka, who continued to be unaware of him. Putting the bowels next to him, he tentatively reached out to touch the girl's arm. She turned to face him, finally. Her eyes remained vacant, pained, dry. Her mouth continued to work soundlessly. Pulling her into his lap, he wrapped his arms around her. Bending over her to rest his chin on her head, he wondered aloud, "What am I going to do with you?"
A sob managed to escape her, "I'm sorry."
As gently as he could, Kurama pulled away enough to tip her face to look at him. "I told you to stop apologizing for everything. You've been through a lot." He brought his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss. "You just need time to heal," he whispered. Pulling back, he smiled softly at her as he snuggled her closer, resting his chin on her head again as she relaxed against him again. 'I'm going to kill Loki,' he thought viciously, at odds with his calm exterior.
"Not until I get finished with him!" the girl in his arms snarled without moving.
Keeping her close, he asked, "And what will you do to him, Bekka?"
"Rip out his heart while laughing and dance on it before returning it to his chest," she answered viciously.
"You'd kill him?" Kurama was amused by her viciousness.
"No," she countered, "that's too quick, too clean, too fast. He needs to suffer!" during her vituperation, she had remained physically relaxed against Kurama's body. She sighed, "But, he's a god and I'm only human. I guess it doesn't hurt to have goals, even if I'll never reach them." She pushed away from him, looking him in the face, not quite making eye contact, "Did I make the right decision?" Her eyes pleaded for an answer.
Kurama was not as surprised by the question as disturbed by it. Somewhere in his brain, he'd been wondering what choice he would have made. "I don't know, Bekka," he answered honestly. "Loki said you passed, for all that's worth." She looked ready to say something when he laid a finger on her lips. "Bekka, it is in the past. It is in neither of our powers to go back and change it. We can only go forward. No more talk. You are going to eat and go back to sleep."
Bekka opened her mouth to protest, but was forced to deal with the food Kurama popped in. Her mouth worked mechanically as she glared at him. He cocked an eyebrow and popped a morsel in his own mouth. Bekka sighed, turning her attention to what she was eating. It tasted citrusy and minty at the same time. She raised her eyebrows questioningly. Kurama winked at her and continued chewing. Again, when she tried to open her mouth to ask what she was eating, he popped more food in it. She tried focusing on his thoughts, but the close contact made it difficult. Added to that, he wasn't actually thinking, at least not in words. Sighing in resignation, she allowed him to continue feeding her.
"Now," Kurama said when all the fruit was eaten, "you need more sleep." He began massaging her scalp again.
"What kind of f-f-fruit was that?" she asked, yawning.
"It's a special hybrid of mine. I haven't named it."
"'sit's really good." Bekka's eyes were drooping as she yawned again. Surrendering, she fell asleep in his arms for the second time in as many days. Her last thought before darkness claimed her was, 'I could get used to this.'
Kurama watched the girl as she slept in his arms. His three encounters with Loki prevented him from blaming her for his inconvenience. He placed her on the bed after he was sure she was asleep and took the bowels back to the kitchen. He was about to sit in his living area when he heard Bekka began screaming. He rushed to the room to see her thrashing about.
"Sensei! Sensei!" she screamed, reaching out. Suddenly, she sat upright, eyes wide, "NO!" All the tension suddenly left her body and she collapsed in a heap, sobbing.
Kurama approached her, "Bekka?" He wasn't even sure if he'd get a response from her.
Her body shuddered, but she did not turn to him. Her face remained buried in her lap so that he could barely make out what she said. "It was my fault, I killed my first sensei because I was afraid of heights. They said it wasn't my fault, but it was. I couldn't kill another sensei, so I killed my child. I am a murder. I killed them. I did it. I did it." The words became a chant and she rocked in time to it.
Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her upright. Shaking her, Kurama forced her to look at him. With dull eyes, she stared at him defiantly. "The past is the past. Leave it there. You are not responsible for what that damn god does. Let it go," he growled at her fiercely. She started to protest and he shook her, letting his anger flare. He watched her eyes widen as she became aware of this. "What is in the past does well to stay there. Look forward." The tension left her body and she sagged in his arms. Kurama gathered her into his lap again, letting his fingers play in her hair.
"My oma used to put me to sleep this way, too," she murmured against his chest, sighing.
"Tell me about you oma," he suggested gently, hoping that something pleasant would help her recover.
"She was very nice," Bekka's voice was soft and slow, seeming to come from a distance. "She made cookies and bread all the time so her house always smelled delicious. She didn't live very far from us. When I was in trouble, I used to sneak out of my window to go visit her. She always had something to show me, something new, the first signs of life in the garden, a bird's nest, little things that made her world beautiful. She tried to teach me how to garden. I tried to do everything she said, but it didn't go well. She rescued it when she found me crying over my poor wilted plants. She hugged me and told me it was okay that I couldn't help the garden grow, that not everyone could, and I was better at preparing medicines than she was. I didn't know it at the time, but she was very old. One day, I went over and she asked if I would be okay if she left for a while. I was fourteen. I knew she wasn't well enough to travel anywhere, so I asked her where she was going. She smiled and said she was joining akasha. I hugged her, told her I'd miss her and left. She died that night. My parents were angry that I didn't go to the funeral. I didn't see the point. My oma wasn't there. Sometimes, I dream about her and it seems so real, like she's actually with me." Bekka's voice had trailed off to where Kurama could barely hear the end of the story. With a sigh, she was fully asleep again.
Kurama sighed. Rather than risk having her screaming again, he decided to stay with her. She seemed somehow comforted by his presence. Shifting carefully, he arranged their bodies so that they were lying on their sides. Eventually, he, too, drifted off to sleep.
Bekka again woke with the weight of Kurama's arm over her body. She was still dressed only in a towel, but it had slipped down her body so that it only covered her from the waist down. Kurama's arm passed between her breasts to hold her shoulder as he slept. He again nuzzled into her hair as he became aware of her being awake.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his breath brushing past her ear.
"More or less,"
Drawing his hand over her body, he pinched her, "Go get dressed."
She squeaked at him and glared fiercely. She gathered the towel around herself as well as she could and scooted off the bed. She managed to get up without getting dizzy, to her relief. She moved quickly and returned shortly with the black skirt and shirt she'd picked out to wear the day before. She had also brushed her hair so that it hung down her back smoothly. Kurama appraised the sight before him frankly. The black set off the red of the accent fabric and her hair beautifully. Her pale face could use a bit more color, but that would come in time. She was beginning to fidget under his gaze, turning her head to the side so that her hair partially obscured her face. "You look very nice. Come on," he said getting up from the bed.
Kurama noticed that she reacted quickly. She was just behind him as he left the room, alert to his movements. Silently, he led her past the living room to the large open cave he used to practice. The walls were gouged in several places from his whip. He looked over his shoulder at her. She was focused oh him, waiting. Crossing his arms over his chest, he challenged her, "Show me what you learned."
Bekka frowned slightly, "You mean like all the forms? Or like a match?"
"Start with the forms." The word was unfamiliar to him, but he figured from her follow up question, forms were solo exercises. "And do all that you know, from easiest to hardest."
Bowing to him, she moved to the center of the room, turned to face him and bowed again. Fluidly, she moved into a defensive crouch and began throwing punches and kicks. The ease with which she moved showed long practice with the movements. He watched her, enjoying the flowing sharp precise movements. Even though he could tell the skirt was not ideal for this work, she kept the forms moving, never actually adjusting it. It just seemed to adjust itself to allow for the freedom of movement she needed. The forms grew more complex, looking like a dance that flowed throughout the room. Defense and offense seamed together into a liquid series of movements. Jumps and rolls were added without a break in the rhythm of the dance. The music was the sound of the air being shattered by her attacks and her yells of force. Time lost meaning as her hypnotic actions fascinated him. He was almost caught off guard when she stopped moving, standing erect in the center of the room, and bowed at him. He watched as she stood waiting.
He wanted to watch her move more. The ease and grace of her forms impressed him. "What weapons do you know?"
She could feel his admiration and was glad she was flush from the exercise or she would be blushing. "Bo staff and spear."
Kurama withdrew a seed from his hair and caused a stalk of bamboo to grow rapidly. He was surprised when she said to stop. He looked at her curiously, "Why?"
"If you want me to use it, it's the right length now." He regarded her for so long she grew uncertain of her actions and began to fidget.
Deciding she had waited long enough and satisfied with her answer, he fixed the staff at its current growth and threw it to her. She caught it easily and held it loosely, waiting. Her attention and obedience boded well for the future of her training. "Begin."
The staff began to move quickly, rotating around its midpoint. The ends of the staff were in constant motion, making it difficult to predict where the next strike would begin. Again, she moved with grace and confidence, progressing through more difficult movements. She was a delight to watch.
After a time, she changed her hold on the staff, using it like a spear. She started again with simple movements, progressing through to more complex sequences. Though, by his standards, those of the Makai, her movements were slow, he still found her a pleasurable distraction. He wondered if her speed was slow because she was going through forms or because she was human.
She bowed at him once again, signaling the end of exercises. Her hair hung in damp strands across her face, her breaths coming in pants, but she held herself upright and still, waiting. He could see that she was trembling. She had been performing for him for several hours. Turning, he flicked his tail at her and left the room.
Perplexed, Bekka followed him, leaning the staff against the wall near the entrance. He couldn't read anything off him beyond he enjoyed watching her. This confused her. Did she not do well? Did she not meet his standards? Biting her lip, she tried to read his body language as he led her to the living room.
Continuing into the kitchen, Kurama flicked his tail at the chair Bekka had sat in before. He gathered together two bowels of fruits and was gratified to see she had obeyed his silent command. Her breathing was almost back to normal again and her face was glowing. She had shaken her hair back behind her shoulders, no longer smooth after the long work out. Her eyes followed him across the room and to his seat opposite her. She was waiting for his assessment of her skills. He wouldn't give her an answer until he sparred with her, though. "After we eat, I want to see how you do in a match. I want to see if you can use what you so beautifully demonstrated." He was rewarded with a blush and a nod. 'She is pleasant on the eyes,' he thought, burying the thought deeply, hoping she didn't catch it. 'Why am I concerned with her knowing I think she's nice to look at?' he wondered in the same deep place in his brain. She didn't react to either thought, he noticed. She wasn't looking at him, so he allowed his ear to flick in annoyance with himself.
Bekka was gratified that he thought she'd done well. Not that he'd said so, exactly, but that was the impression she'd gotten. It'd been some time since she'd had to run through the forms. Some of them were rusty, she felt. She looked forward to sparring with him. It was then, she could show him more, truly, where her strengths were and, with those strengths, look for his weaknesses. She knew that he would be looking for hers as well, so she ran through some scenarios mentally while she ate. So focused on her mental games, she did not hear Kurama rise from the table and was surprised too see her bowel move from before her. 'Pay attention!' she chided herself, standing to follow him as he returned to the dojo.
Kurama walked to the center of the room, pleased to see her following. If she continued to be obedient, it was possible the task would not be so tiresome. She stood alertly, watching, waiting. They both knew the advantage to begin with would be his in this fight because he had seen her go through the forms while she still had not seen his fighting style. This would be a true test of her skills, not just as a fighter, but as an observer. He would not go easy on her. Creating his rose whip, he watched as her eyes grew larger momentarily. Her stance, however, did not change. She did not drop into a defensive crouch, but continued to regard him calmly. He brought the whip into motion, swinging it in tight arcs around his body, but still she stood. Wondering what was wrong with the girl he allowed the whip to snake out towards her. The whip bit into the ground where her feet had been. She had moved behind its arc, avoiding the whip and the chips of rock that flew up from where it gouged the floor. Kurama's ears twitched in surprise while his mouth curled into a smile. Bekka returned the smile, continuing to stand upright and watch him.
"Are you going to arm yourself?" Kurama asked, bringing his whip in, preparing for the next series of attacks.
Bekka gave a nonchalant shrug, knowing she was baiting the kitsune, "If I need to, I will."
Kurama's ears flicked back at this challenge. "If I give you the chance," he retorted. Raising the whip, he announced, "Kumite," as he began to lash at her feet, sending her dancing to the farside of the room, placing himself between her and the staff.
"Kumite? I thought you'd started already," she countered, recognizing his tactics, but going along for the moment.
"You think this is starting?" he asked, aiming a lash toward her head, forcing her to duck.
"Hmm," she considered, watching the whip sail through the space she had just occupied, "No, not yet." She was beginning to develop ideas for strategies, but still need to observe how he used the whip before she could begin to truly counter his attacks.
The whip lashed out rapidly, wanting to wrap itself around her body, she was no longer in position, however, having moved behind its arc. Hungrily, its direction changed, wanting to hold her in its grasp. She ducked underneath its path, however. Viciously, the whip snapped down. Not having room to maneuver backwards, she rolled in, sweeping a leg out to kick Kurama's legs. Not being caught off guard, he leapt away from her, bringing the whip down as he did. To his surprise, she caught the whip, using it to pull him off balance. Recovering quickly, he pulled back, wrenching it from her grasp. She leapt away from her position, again seeming to float as she did, landing far enough away that he would have to move to attack her. She grinned at him, eyes alert, "Now, we have begun."
For the next several hours, the two continued to spar. Several times, Kurama landed hits on the girl, but she did not cry out. She too managed to land a few attacks on him, but his demonic speed made it difficult for her to get more in. Kurama called halt when his whip dug deep into her back, tearing her shirt and skin and bringing a gasp to her lips. Exhausted, Bekka fell to her hands and knees, panting. She was dripping sweat and it stung in all the cuts she'd received in the course of the match. Kurama's own breathing was coming harder as he walked over to the girl. He reached down, pulling her to her feet. "C'mon, you need a bath and then we're going to eat and sleep."
A/N Hooray…another chapter done! My muse hates me, just so you know…I am writing this story by hand and then typing it up because I currently am a 2 hour bus ride away from my computer and will be for a little while longer…I actually typed half of this chapter up twice (once on my computer, once on a friend's) so I could post it for you and get my muse off my back for a while….vicious creature, George….I'm thinking of changing his name to Loki…it seems to fit…. :D Anyway…I have a couple of things to say in this note…ramble, as one of my reviewers called it (I'm not online at the moment, so I forgot the name, but I really thank you, reviews mean a lot to me). I was told that the tone of my note can be a little jarring after reading my story…well, the note is written how I normally talk, while I blame the stories on George, as you know (or should)...I view the author's note as somewhere I can let you know a little more about me and my thinking process as I write and about nifty keen junk I learn while researching things for my stories. OH! I must must say thank you thank you thank you to the wonderful Shadow Jaganshi :D She was appalled that I only got three reviews a chapter (she and I correspond regularly via e-mail and I complain to her often about this story) so she directed her readers to find me :D Lessee…I actually have a list for this author's note so I'd remember everything….Oh, "forms" is the term used for a series of choreographed movements in martial arts…there are other terms, but that was the easiest and the others would require me to know exactly which form of martial arts Bekka studied. Kumite is a Japanese martial arts term that means "to spar" and is used to begin a sparring match…why Japanse instead of Korean or Chinese…cause I already knew the Japanese and got lazy and didn't want to look up the Chinese (which would have been the more correct term, had Bekka spoken it….) Oh, hey, Kurama said it…never mind…I'm not lazy…I'm unknowingly brilliant :P (just kidding). Last topic: I saw a show on different styles of using the bo staff…the Chinese use the style I described, Japanese use more economic movements (that's the phrase the show used), and the Westerners use a more forceful style….now you know, don't you feel smart? I hope so…tell me by reviewing (oh, yeah…my elemental is fire….for those that wanted to know…and yes, Shadow, so is yours)
