The first person to move was Strike. "Need help with those?" he said, nodding to Tsutamo's suitcases. Making a move to relieve the little boy of his load, he was taken aback when Tsutamo suddenly jumped to the side.
"I can carry my own stuff, thank you very much" he said, huffily. With that, he started to walk to his room, only to realize he had no idea where it was. Stopping, he dropped the luggage and sat down on top of it.
"Hey, slow down little man!" Strike said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I didn't mean to offend you. I only offered to help".
Whipping out his mirror, Hiro combed his hair. "Well, I think he's pretty smart. I wouldn't trust you two with my stuff either", he said, nodding to Strike and Heat.
"You didn't exactly seem to happy to see me. Am I such a burden on your life that I am unwelcome here?" Tsutamo replied coldly. Shocked, none of the others made a reply. "I thought so".
Heat was the first to react. Walking over to the boy, he kneeled in front of him, so he could look eye to eye with his new little brother. "Look", he said, "whatever hostile impressions you may have gotten from us, we're sorry. We didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome".
Smiling at Heat, Tsutamo hopped off his bags, and said "Lead the way, brother!" Returning Tsutamo's smile, Heat helped him carry his bags into the spare bedroom, between Hiro and Heat's rooms.
"This will be your room for the next couple of months", Heat said, placing Tsutamo's luggage on the fold out bed. If you need any extra lights, just steal one from Hiro, he's got more than enough. If you need any CDs, I've got tons you can go through, and visit Strike if you need any….um….well, guns".
Shocked, Tsutamo looked up at Heat. With eyes as big as saucers, "Guns?" was all he could utter.
Chuckling, Heat leaned against the wall. "Ah, don't let him scare you. He's just a big softie. He never really uses them, except for attacking when we're at Bu…". Catching himself before he revealed too much, Heat quickly changed the subject. "So, got any hobbies, or things you like to do?"
Putting his hand to his chin, Tsutamo thought, then, snapping his finger, declared "Reading!"
"Hey, that's cool, what do you read?"
Digging through his backpack, Tsutamo pulled out a large volume. Shoving the book in Heat's face, he eagerly announced the title, "The Webster Dictionary!"
Leafing through the pages, his new older brother looked up in disbelief. "Y…you read this…for fun!"
Grabbing the book and stuffing it back in his backpack, Tsutamo replied happily. "Yah! It's very fascinating! I'm already to the I's. I would have never known what infallible meant. It's amazing what one can learn!"
"Go figure", Heat said, in a daze. He and Tsutamo left the room. As they headed down the hallway, suddenly a monster popped out of a nearby closet and grabbed Heat. "Aaaaaaaaaaaahh!" the two younger brothers yelled, and with that, they passed out.
Strike, removing his monster mask, chuckled, and said "That was WAY too easy".
Sticking his head out of his bedroom doorway to see what the commotion was about, Hiro frowned at the dark sibling of his. "That wasn't very nice", he said, coming out of his bedroom.
"Ah, who cares? They both need to toughen up. A good scare every once in awhile should do just that". Strike stashed the mask back in the closet, and then cocked an eyebrow. "And just what are you doing?"
Hiro held up a few photos, their backs facing Strike. "I'm autographing pictures of myself, for the competition tonight. You had better get ready, too. I hear the competition is going to be tough tonight, especially since Frida's going to bring her little sister".
Whipping out his guns, Strike looked at them thoughtfully, while Hiro whimpered, ever the scaredy cat. "Oh, I'll be ready".
Gaining some confidence, Hiro annoyedly tapped his foot, and nodded towards the unconscious Heat and Tsutamo. "That's great", he said sarcastically. "Now, what are you going to do about those two?"
Strike looked down at them, and then sighed, putting his guns away. "We'd better put them in their bedrooms". Hiro walked over and picked up Tsutamo, while Strike roughly grabbed Heat, as though Heat weighed nothing. He dragged the red head down the hallway, and stopped in front of a door with a giant flame painted on it. Rolling his eyes, he pushed open the door, and walked into the room. From the bright red carpet, to the flame painted walls, Heat's room was screaming fire. Planting his feet firmly on the carpet, Strike carelessly threw his brother onto the flamed bed. Heat landed on the edge of the bed, then fell off his a loud thud. A sudden "Ow!" told Strike he should leave before Heat caught him, and he took off.
That night, the four guys sat around the kitchen table (which was really a poker table, since Hiro couldn't afford to get a high quality dinette set). Currently playing Five Card Draw, each player looked at his cards. Hiro combed him hair with one hand, while he concentrated on his cards, Strike cocked an eyebrow at his hand, Tsutamo yawned, and Heat tried to decide what to open the bidding with. After a few long minutes of deliberation, he finally pushed a pile of chips forward. Strike pulled down his shades to get a better look. "Man…twenty chips? Alright, I'm in". With that, he too pushed twenty chips to the center.
Looking at himself in his mirror, Hiro put it down, and then tossed a whole bunch of chips to the center. "I'll see your twenty, and raise you ten".
Impatient to end the game, and asking for the zillionth time "Can we play Chess instead?", Tsutamo put all of his poker chips in the middle.
"Looks like the short one is all in. So am I". Heat knocked the remainder of his chips into the rapidly growing center pile.
After the other two contributed the rest of their piles, Strike announced "Time to reveal your hand!"
Tsutamo, embarrassed by his lack of luck, laid down his hand, and muttered "King high".
Strike showed a pair of threes, and leaned back in his chair. After Hiro laid down a flush, it was assumed the game was won. However, grinning triumphantly, Heat held up his cards. A Royal Flush. As he leaned forward to collect his winnings, Strike, suddenly alert, whipped Heat's cards out of his hand, and looked closely at them. "Hey! This King isn't a King! It's a Queen with a mustache burned on. Why…you….little..!"
Aware that the jig was up, Heat attempted to flee, but was knocked to the ground when Strike jumped on top of him.
Hiro sighed, annoyed, while Tsutamo looked at the Queen. "Hey Hiro, how did that mustache get burned on?" Before Hiro could reply, Tsutamo's question was answered.
As Heat tried to get up, Strike pinned him down. Suddenly, flames appeared in Heat hands, the flames licking Strike's arms. "YOWWW!" Strike yelled, jumping back. As Heat took off running, holding his cowboy hat, Strike whipped out an automatic gun, and fired a round of shots into Heat's hat! Stopping dead in his tracks, Heat stared in shock at his bullet hole covered hat. Mourning the loss of his companion, Heat sat on the ground, back to the wall, hugging the red (and now, Swiss cheese) cowboy hat. Strike returned to the table, as if nothing had happened, and looked at the other two. "So, where do you want to go for dinner?"
Tsutamo, to shocked to say anything, just sat with his mouth hanging open, his mind trying to process what had just happened.
Hiro, looking at the clock on the wall, gasped. "Forget dinner! We're going to be late meeting the others!"
Strike, jumped out of his chair. "I completely forgot about the competition tonight! Hiro, take Tsutamo to the garage". Running over to the grieving Heat, Strike grabbed his shirt collar and said "This is no time to mourn over a hat! We got to leave, now!" Dragging Heat to the flame-covered car (guess who's it was:P), he attempted to get into the driver's seat, when suddenly, a flaming finger was pointed in his face.
"My car! Get out!" As Strike clambered into the passenger seat, Heat slid behind the wheel. Running his fingers over the steering wheel, he sighed. After ceremoniously placing his wounded hat on the dashboard (during which Strike rolled his eyes), Heat suddenly slammed his foot on reverse. The sports car shot out of the garage, and all of its passengers (with the exception of Heat, being a nature born race car driver) flew out of their seats. "You really should buckle up", he said.
"Well, for your information, I was, but even the seat belts can't protect me from your driving! Now, please slow down, you know I get car sick" Hiro said.
Heat turned around, and grinned wickedly at Hiro. "Oh, don't worry, I'll drive nice and slow". With that, he hit the gas, and the car took off. Just because he's a skilled driver, does not mean he isn't a reckless one. Driving down the median, Heat weaved through traffic, accelerating whenever possible. Receiving angry yells from other motorists, he just grinned and waved back. As he sped through a red light, Heat drove into an empty parking lot, and, at the last possible second, slammed on the brakes. Hiro, Strike, and Tsutamo all fell forward, onto the car floor. Heat unbuckled his seatbelt, and then climbed out and looked in at his brothers sprawled on the floor. "Hey, get up sleepyheads! We're here!"
Ticked off, Strike helped Tsutamo get out, while Hiro ran to throw up in the nearest trash can. "Does he always drive like that?" Tsutamo asked the eldest.
Strike chuckled, watching Heat leap the fence, then dash through the doors of a large, concrete garage. "Yah, he's a pretty cocky driver. You think he would have learned to be more careful after his accident".
Tsutamo's eyes got as big as dinner plates. "Heat got in an accident? Wow, what happened?"
"No time to talk, kid. The competition starts soon, and we don't want to be late. Hey Hiro!" Strike said, grabbing Hiro's shirt as they walked past the garbage can he was throwing up in. "This isn't the time for dramatics! You should be practicing. Your going to need all the practice you can get if you plan on going up against me!"
As the three walked into the dark, seemingly empty garage, they arrived in front of an old fashioned, gate type elevator. Getting on, Strike typed a code into the box, the gate closed, and the elevator moved down, into darkness.
