Disclaimer: I don't own Geneshaft or any of it's characters!

AN: Its been a little while hasn't it? Ah well I've been meaning to continue this story for some time, I really have. I just haven't had the time and inspiration together to do it.

Chapter 6: Fragile Body

They met again, opponents in their physical education class. Jean stood in full fencing gear, his mask tucked under his arm and foil in hand. The stark white jacket and knickers made his crimson hair and matching eyes glow. His body ached making him more than grateful that this was the last match of the day. It was the last match before he could retreat from this place, from these people always watching him. They tournament style set up had put each pair of opponents on strips on small courts that doubled as racket ball rooms. No register was necessary due to the automatic score keeper that each fencing hooked up to. They were alone in the room, but there was always someone watching from the observation deck above.

Mario stepped onto the strip, he by score ranking set him to be Jean's opponent. Their ranking was nearly even now. The redhead's deteriorating condition had started to reflect in his scores. Mario eyed the thin form before him. In some way he felt guilty, he needn't but try a little harder to advance where Jean was seemed to be unable to accept that he couldn't. His body could not move faster, be stronger, in its current state. Their confrontations had taken on a different personality all together after that night. Jean tried to distance himself, cut off talking to Mario all together since that day he had been caught practicing late in the gym. The arrogance that radiated off the small boy had dimmed. He avoided eye contact at times, hiding himself. The mask had started to crumble with his body.

The two quickly exchanged nicities that were customary with the ancient sport and slipped their masks on. Jean was the first to advance, his small steps quickly eating up the distance between them. He wanted this to be over quickly. Mario waited, shifting his weight forward. Reading his opponent was his best tool and he used it well. Jean snapped his blade against Mario's in a beat attack and drove forward in a lunge. Mario had seen it coming, his blade returning with a parry and clean reposed, catching Jean mid lunge, unable to retreat.

Point Mario. "What's eating you?" Mario posed the question quietly as they disentangled to reset. He could feel the glare from Jean more than see it through the mask. They started again, Jean advancing again. Mario retreated, keeping the distance between them. His reach was longer than Jean's and he would press the advantage as much as possible. Jean continued, shortening his steps to keep right of way. Mario dropped his foil, changing his possible line of attack. Jean snapped at the opening in Mario's guard only to have his blade deflected at the last minute. Mario's blade depressed painfully against his collar bone. The jacket and under armor may help, but it still hurt to receive a blow at such close range. Mario straightened his blade, its tip bent a bit from the last attack.

They stood facing each other again. Each absorbed in the perfection of their form. Jean advanced again, but as he went to lunge his foot stopped short, caught momentarily on the floor disrupting his moment and balance as the same time. Mario moved forward as though to catch the falling form. The cry of the buzzer brought Mario back to the match. Jean smirked from his crouched position on the floor. He had tripped unintentionally, but the opening in Mario's guard had been so baltent that he merely extended when he stepped forward. His knees stung from being driven into the floor, but he had won the point.

"How about a bet?" Jean challenged, his voice low to keep from being over heard by the on lookers. "I win you leave me alone," The shorter boy growled, more under his breath than aloud. "Keep you hands out of my business." He added quickly. He could see how Mario operated now. He could beat it.

"And if I win?" Mario eyed the other.

"That wont happen," Jean answered. He returned to his guard line. This match was two out of three and he was confident that he could come back and snatch victory with the next point. His knees protested his guard stance but they could be forced to cooperate. Again they started, although Mario took the lead this time. His longer strides bringing him nearly on top of his opponent in a split second. Their blades met, the metallic clang rang out over the hushed observers. The snap of Mario's blade had been deafening, but that was not why Jean stood silently looking at it.

He had bound Mario's blade on the advance and lunged his counter attack, but the other's blade had struck his guard with such force that the tip and a three inch section of the blade broke clean off. The jagged edge of the now shortened blade sliced through the air and protective jacket that Jean wore. Physics had taken over, the momentum behind the point had carried it to its final resting place where it now was. Jean's blade slipped from his grip, striking the ground and rolling away from the scene. The pain, the horrifying pain was rushing in to fill his blanked mind. He staggered back, the blade slipping free from the wound, its grip still clutched in Mario's hand. He pushed the mask off with little care for the noise it made as it hit the ground.

'This can't be happening,' Jean touched the dampening material of his jacket, his own mask slipping off to the floor. The stark white was quickly darkening to a red, its mat material gaining a slick, shiny property. His knees buckled, blood rushed up into his mouth. Some where in the back of his mind he noted that it must have pierced his stomach or lung. It was hard for him to focus on where exactly the blow had landed, his gaze focued on the reddened fingertips of his glove trying to understand what exactly was happening. The world around him was reduced to the pounding in his ears and the too bright lights that flooded the room. His body pitched backward involuntarily, its state of shock rendering it listless. His desent stalled short of the flood, he had been caught by his rival.

Jean could see his lips moving, but what he was saying was lost in the drumming of his heart beat. Mario would then turn and call out to the room or someone beyond his field of vision before turning back and continue to speak to Jean himself. Had he really been that badly injured? It was getting hard to breath. He wanted to cough, rid his lungs of this weight that was gaining pressure in his chest, but he felt too tired to do so. A clear thought suddenly broke through the surface of his spinning mind. The fear of death that lay dormant in his perceived invincibility of youth screamed to life. His mind bitterly lashed out, Mario had brought him to this. His eyes welled up and spilled over as he could only stare up at Mario's shadowed form.

"You must be happy," Jean uttered, blood burbling over his lips with the last syllable.

Mario paused misentence, his voice caught in his throught. The medical team hadn't come yet, someone must have seen them on the monitors by now. He never intended to hurt anyone, the pit stomach falling out as he watched Jean struggling to stay awake. Although the wound wasn't very big, it had opened a substantial hole all the way through the tender tissue of Jean's abdomen just below the bottom of his ribs. Mario pressed his hand over it, trying to stop the bleeding. 'Happy? How could I be happy?'

"Hey! Hey, stay awake!" Mario shook the other, watching his eyes flutter shut again.

To Be Continued...

AN: Ah well, a note about this chapter. I'm a fencer, but I tried to make it clear what was happening even to people that don't fence. Fencing it a relatively safe sport. I myself have never seen anyone serious injured fencing although I've heard stories about broken blades hurting people.