"Ah…Kratos, you've finally decided to show up. To what do I owe this privilege?" Yggdrasill spoke, with words meant to be falsely flattering. Kratos rose from his knee, hating the act of bowing before the man but knowing that he couldn't risk showing disrespect, not now.

"I'm sorry, there was a situation last night and I couldn't make it in time," Kratos spoke, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate and make up some story. Yes, there was a situation last night, but Yggdrasill would strike him down should he ever find out just what. It wouldn't be jealousy that'd make Yggdrasill angry though; that was far too human of an emotion. Rather, he would not be happy to see Kratos neglecting his duties in such an irresponsible way.

"I'll let it go this time, since I've heard how difficult the Chosen can be." Yggdrasill leaned against the side of his chair, looking at Kratos from underneath blonde lashes in a bored fashion. "How is the boy's training going?"

"He seems to be resistant to authority figures, but I've been spending more time with him so I think he's coming around."

"Does he fare well in combat?" Yggdrasill asked slowly, his eyes narrowing a fraction as he studied the man before him. It was strange, Kratos thought—despite his earlier assumptions that the half-elf had no room for those sophomoric feelings—he detected a hint of jealousy in the question. Or maybe that was just competitiveness. Mithos had been his student many years ago and was nothing more than a blundering idiot the first time they crossed swords. Surely it wouldn't please the half-elf if Zelos turned out to be a better student than he had been.

"I… haven't allowed him a sword yet."

"What in the hell are you waiting for then? It's been over two weeks now! I didn't send you down there for a vacation, I sent you there to…" Closing his eyes tight, Yggdrasill trailed off, the blatant display of anger not what he had intended. If Kratos wasn't in fear of angering his Lord further, he would have questioned the man's intentions with Zelos. Why was the Chosen's training so important to his leader? He never seemed to show much interest in Chosens before him, unless of course they held a promising mana signature, which Kratos knew Zelos did not.

"Forgive me. I'll step up the routine as soon as I return." Kratos bowed his head as he spoke. He was opposed to the idea, Zelos wasn't ready just yet, but he had to do what he could to keep Yggdrasill satisfied.

"You do that." A strange, sweet smile spread across the man's lips as Kratos turned to leave. The seraph didn't have time to ponder his leader's strange behavior at the moment however. It was time to go back to Meltokio.

XxX

"Hey… uh, what are you doing here?" Zelos frowned as he opened the door to his mansion to find his most recent instructor standing there. "I thought you said I could have the weekend off."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Kratos said as he stepped past the Chosen and into the house. The boy followed him groggily, obviously feeling the negative effects of his partying last night. "How are you feeling?"

"What do you think? I've been sick all morning," the redhead sighed and sipped on some of his tea. His hair had been strategically tied back and he was still wearing the clothes he had on last night, albeit wrinkled now from sleep. "You're lucky you've already seen me in a less-than-beautiful state, otherwise I wouldn't have even allowed you in."

"Just take it as another lesson learned and try not to get too carried away next time." Kratos smirked slightly, finding Zelos' usual displays of narcissism amusing. "Your vanity will thank you later."

"Yeah, I guess I should learn my limits," the hung over one sighed, setting down his tea gingerly. "But hey, we had fun didn't we?" he asked curiously, hopeful even.

"Sure," was the flat, indifferent reply. Zelos almost sighed in defeat. This guy was hopeless.

"Shouldn't you be sick too? You had just as much to drink as me last night." Kratos noted the odd way Zelos was eyeing him as he spoke. Sizing him up. Was Zelos suspicious?

"I'm fine. Get dressed, we're going out for a lesson."

"What? You can't be serious! After a long night like that?" With an incredulous look on his face, Zelos gaped up as his teacher, searching for some sign that this was all a joke. He might as well have been trying to read a rock though, as Kratos's expression remained flat and insistent. "Ugh, you're not human!" he whined, and though Kratos knew it was a nothing more than thoughtless complaint on the Chosen's part, the boy's words struck a cord with the seraph.

"Here, take this," Kratos spoke harshly as he unhooked the clothed wrapped object from his belt and tossed it at the Chosen who was sprawled out on the couch. Zelos grunted as the heavy thing hit him in the stomach and glared up at his tormentor before curiosity got the best of him.

"What the hell…" he wondered aloud as he untied the rope and let the cloth fall to the floor. "Oh." Unenthusiastically, Zelos lifted the sword that had been given to him. Staring at his own mussed reflection on the edge of the blade, realization dawned on the redhead and he perked up immediately. "A sword! I get it, so that means—"

"It's called a sabre and yes. We're going out to spar. Go get ready," Kratos sighed as he reiterated what had basically already been said, his words short and clipped. He was already losing patience and that was not good. It wasn't so much Zelos' fault, but rather Yggdrasill's for stepping in on Kratos' method of doing things.

"Alright!" Zelos exclaimed and rushed for the stairs faster than he thought he was capable of in his sickly state. He didn't miss the petulant tone Kratos was taking with him, but he was too hyped to care. It wasn't as if this was the first time he had caught the man in a bad mood, anyway. He was finally going to get to do some real fighting! Not only that, but the Chosen was also quite interested to see if Kratos had the skills to back up all his talk.

XxX

"I might surprise you, you know. I used to do some fencing in when I was a kid," Zelos boasted as he got used to the weight of his new sword, twirling it around his head with less grace than he would have hoped. He was a bit rusty, but he was confident he had remembered enough not to look like a complete fool. Luckily, Kratos didn't see the fumble, as he was walking a few paces ahead of his student.

"You still are a 'kid'," Kratos corrected him, though to be fair, most would be considered children when compared to his unnatural age. Zelos jogged a few paces to catch up with the man. Did Kratos make it a point to always be a few paces ahead him or was that just his imagination? Either way, it was annoying.

"Oh yeah, well…" About to argue that statement, Zelos trailed off once he had a better opportunity to study the man's face. The difference would be unnoticeable to the untrained eye, but Zelos considered himself an expert at this sort of thing. A connoisseur of the art of love, one could say. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it sooner, but perhaps that could be blamed on the poor lighting in his living room. "You got laid!"

"What?" Kratos glared at the boy, only to tear his eyes away a second later. He was shocked, though maybe he shouldn't be. Zelos' thoughts seemed to always be in the gutter, so it was fitting that only him could make such a guess. Clearing his throat, Kratos spoke calmly, "Don't be absurd. Stay focused, we're almost there."

"There's not use denying it! You're practically glowing!" Kratos huffed and Zelos laughed openly. It was a pity that getting some action didn't seem to lighten the man's mood at all. If anything, he seemed more high strung today than ever. Still, Zelos was more than just amused at the situation, he was actually relieved. Knowing, or at least suspecting, that Kratos had engaged in such activities did much to humanize the man that Zelos formerly considered untouchable. It felt like there was at least some common ground between them now.

"Wilder," Zelos winced at the use of his last name, knowing he must really be pushing some buttons if Kratos was addressing him as such, "even if that were true, it's none of your business." There was that brick wall again. Zelos groaned to himself. And after he thought they had made some progress last night. Maybe it was foolish to expect anything else from the man though. Kratos had been quite straightforward about what he had come here to do, and it certainly didn't include anything about befriending the Chosen.

"At least give me a name," Zelos pleaded. "It's not someone I know, is it?" Kratos sighed wearily and turned around to face the one who was causing him such annoyance.

"Why does it matter you?" Their eyes met for a second, but Kratos looked elsewhere quickly. Zelos smiled innocently at the other man. He was guarded, he was hiding things. Zelos wasn't stupid. But why? It was just sex, what was the big deal? Unless there was something bigger here to be hidden, which was entirely possible. Kratos was all too enigmatic and it intrigued Zelos to a point where it was frustrating.

"Just curious," the redhead shrugged.

The two of them stood in a middle of a courtyard. Kratos had led them here knowing it would be relatively empty at this time of the day and it would be a good place to start their training. But now, Zelos was distracted, and Kratos had nothing to blame but his own carnal acts.

"I have a proposition for you. If you can manage to strike me, I will tell you what I did last night after we parted." As Kratos spoke he unsheathed his sword, holding it loosely by his side as he awaited Zelos' answer. Having confidence in Zelos' perverse mind, he was already fairly positive of what the answer would be. He wasn't eager to share anything about his personal life with the boy, so he would have to be prudent with this session.

"Deal. What happens if I fail? What do I lose?" Aside from pride and maybe a few teeth? Kratos couldn't think of anything else. It was an odd question for the Chosen to ask and Kratos decided to voice his confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you're going to tell me about last night should I meet your challenge, shouldn't I have to give you something if I cannot? For a guy who seems so well traveled you're sure not good at bargaining. Luckily for you, I believe in upholding a fair trade." Zelos grinned, for once feeling more wise and dignified than his teacher.

"Admirable," Kratos remarked dryly. Racking his brain from anything he could possibly want from Zelos, Kratos frowned as a sudden image came to his mind. It was something he had wondered about before, but hadn't taken the time to ask about. Still, it seemed harmless enough. "To make it even, I will ask you to disclose information to me as well, rather than give me something physical." Zelos nodded his head in agreement. "I enjoy the paintings you have hanging in your house. Who is the blonde woman featured in the large portrait?" There was a pause, and Kratos frowned in concern. "You look pale. Are you feeling sick again?"

"Ugh, yeah, it's my stomach again." Clutching his gut in mock pain, Zelos shut his eyes tight, willing his racing heart to calm. The question was unexpected and it sent a jolt of needed reality to his system. He actually had something to lose now, better not screw up.

"Heh…I never pegged you for an artsy guy. Very well then, if that's your question, then I'll answer it if I lose. There, we're all set then?" Unwrapping his arm from his midsection, Zelos drew his weapon as well. The smile he was wearing seemed to burn as he forced all his will into making it believable. Across from him, Kratos was still wearing his poker face. Zelos took the moment to consider which tactic was better. They were both hiding things, weren't they? Perhaps they could exchange tips on a later date.

"I believe so. Attack me."

XxX

Picking himself up off the ground again, Zelos readied his weapon and fixed narrowed eyes on his target—who looked slightly blurred thanks to Zelos' disoriented state. They had been 'training' for about an hour and Kratos had spent the whole time deflecting the Chosen's amateur attacks with ease. Despite the frustration Zelos was feeling, he couldn't help but be awed by the man's ability. Was this the skill of a mercenary? Zelos didn't have much to compare him to, so he couldn't be sure. It didn't seem natural though. Even with the Cruxis Crystal Zelos wore, Kratos was easily overpowering him. Of course, Zelos realized the man wore a gem of his own, but he didn't dare ask where the man had gotten it. Probably some shady deal he had made with a former employer, or perhaps goods he had taken off one of the slain.

"You'll never hit me if you continue swipe at me so carelessly; you leave yourself wide open," Kratos chided as he parried Zelos' most recent failed attack and used his leverage to push the boy back a few paces. "Try again, and use your head for once."

"Yeah, you make it sound so easy," Zelos grumbled. He had already been suffering from a migraine from his hangover, and now he could barely focus thanks to Kratos' merciless treatment. Couldn't the man at least pull some punches for a student? It seemed almost hopeless, but Zelos knew he couldn't give up just yet, not after the deal they had made.

Meanwhile, Kratos was making mental notes on what the boy needed to work on and was already planning out future lessons. Fencing had taught Zelos to be light on his feet, but his quickness didn't make up for all the amateur mistakes he was making. It was as to be expected though. Even a more seasoned warrior would have a hard time making through Kratos' defenses.

During his brainstorming, Kratos was caught off guard as Zelos came at him from the side. He recovered well enough, spinning around and whacking Zelos on the back with the flat of his sword. The Chosen lost his footing again and went tumbling to the ground. "I think that's enough for today."

"Aw, but I was just getting used to the taste of dirt," Zelos whined as he got up, wincing as a few of his sore muscles protested the action. His usual humor betrayed what he was feeling, which wasn't anything new. It wasn't so much wounded pride that troubling him, but the fact that he was cursing himself for ever agreeing to that stupid deal in the first place.

"Let's go back and get you cleaned up." Sheathing his sword, Kratos turned to see Zelos dusting himself off. He had a few shallow cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. Kratos was careful not to cut him, so most of the wounds Zelos had were a result of being thrown to the ground or his own clumsy fumbles.

XxX

They walked in silence back to the Wilder mansion. Zelos was trying hard not to limp and was now finding himself grateful for the habit Kratos had of always being a few paces ahead. He had gone from feeling embarrassed for his failure to angry as he mulled over the events. What kind of method of teaching was this? Zelos almost got the feeling Kratos enjoyed it all. Though maybe Zelos deserved that with how difficult he had been during their earlier lessons.

After he had spent a small fortune buying the man drinks last night too! It hurt, being beaten so badly by a man he hardly knew, but it hurt worse to know that maybe it would always be that way. He couldn't even win this one small battle to find out what Kratos had been up to last night. Perhaps the fact that Zelos had to bargain with the man just to make conversation was a dire sign in itself though. Perhaps Zelos was seeking friendship in the worst of places. It was probably desperation kicking in.

"You've been rather quiet," Kratos spoke, breaking Zelos out of his ponderings. They had arrived at the mansion and the Chosen was in the middle of attempting to arrange his body on the sofa in a way that wasn't too painful.

"So?"

"It's just odd considering how you like to run your mouth."

"Sorry, I've been busy trying to relocate my spleen," Zelos grumbled, pointedly turning his back to the man has he tried to salvage what was left of his ponytail.

"Stop it, you're not hurt that badly. Come here." The man offered his pupil a healing gel. Zelos glared at him for a moment before begrudgingly accepting the offer, his aching body winning over his wounded pride for the moment. When he attempted to put the gel in his mouth, the mercenary halted him with a steel grip around the wrist.

"Not like that. This is faster." Zelos allowed the man to take the gel away and watched as he crushed it in his hand. Kratos applied the goo to the gash on Zelos' shoulder and used the rest on the boy's cheek. The man's finger traced the scratches on his face gently and Zelos hated it. Hated feeling so weak, and hated that he liked the way those hands felt on him. Why the hell was he feeling this way? It was obvious enough that Kratos desired no from of relationship with the boy, not even friendship. So why was Zelos's heart racing?

"Stop it, I'm not a child," Zelos growled and swatted the other's hand away. Yes, he was smarter than this. He wouldn't allow himself to become affected by the odd charisma this mercenary had. He wasn't one of the shallow, so easily hypnotized women he had come so skilled at entrapping himself.

"Do as you will," Kratos sighed as he stepped away from his student's side and left him to his devices. It was understandable that he'd be upset after all that. Kratos had to admit he might have been a bit harsher than he should have been. Misplaced anger wasn't something he could always be immune to.

"She was my mother."

"Excuse me?" Kratos looked up from inspecting his sword. Zelos was lying limply on the couch, his mussed hair partially covering his face as he stared down at the carpet. His eyes were sad and weary looking, something Kratos had never seen before in the boy's expression.

"The woman in the painting," he elaborated and Kratos nodded in realization. The seraph hadn't even been thinking about that, had already forgotten about the bet they had made earlier. Zelos could tell by his reaction too—this wasn't anything important to the mercenary. Just a fleeting thought he might have had earlier. Too bad it wasn't nearly as insignificant to the Chosen.

"You…don't have to. It's alright," said Kratos, sensing that there was something dark on the way.

"She was killed, when I was younger," Zelos continued, as if he hadn't heard the other's statement at all. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Zelos fought against the torrent of emotions that always overwhelmed him when he thought of that night. "It was my fault," he finished, allowing the air he had been holding in to escape his lungs. It did little to relieve the clenching feeling in his chest.

"I'm sorry," Kratos offered lamely. Now that Zelos was speaking of it, Kratos recalled just barely the details of the woman's death. As a primary member of Cruxis, it was part of his duties to monitor and record information on the various Chosens and their families. This was an act of murder as he recalled, and two mothers were lost as a result. Truly a tragic story, and it was all sitting up in his office in one of his textbooks. Only it was so much worse to hear it from this boy's mouth, in person and not just a collection of words printed on a piece of paper. "I don't know the details, but I'm sure you're wrong. Blaming yourself won't change a thing."

"What do you know?" Zelos suddenly whirled on him, sitting up to face the man with fury in his eyes. "It's not like you even give a shit about me, so don't bother to humor me, okay? I get enough of that already."

"Zelos…" Kratos trailed off as the boy got up and stormed up the stairs. He winced a second later as he heard a door slam shut. Well, that hadn't gone as he had expected. It would have been wiser to read up on the Chosen and his past before undertaking this task, but Kratos simply hadn't had the time or foresight.

XxX

As Kratos slowly cracked open the door to Zelos's bedroom, the lump in the middle of the king size bed didn't move. It was so much like when the seraph had first come to the mansion to find the Chosen in a weak, pathetic state. Only this time Kratos was the cause. He couldn't help but feel guilty about his carelessness.

"Please, may I come in?" There was no answer for a few moments, but Kratos waited patiently outside the door. Beyond his own feelings of guilt, he also feared for the success of his mission. If Zelos dismissed him today, Yggdrasill would not be happy. He had to think of these things as well and try to salvage the situation as best he could.

"Yeah…" Zelos sighed as he untangled himself from the covers, knowing that just lying there and sulking all day wouldn't do him any good, anyway. He was already embarrassed for the way he acted downstairs, like an angry child. "I'm sorry about the way I acted." Not that you didn't deserve it, Zelos added to himself. He had just shared something very personal—though admittedly in few words—and here Kratos was acting like it meant nothing.

"I'm sorry I brought it up."

"No, it's alright. How were you supposed to know?" It's not as if you've made any effort to get to know me, Zelos once again added bitterly to himself.

"Do you think of this often? It must be hard on you—someone so young, to carry such weight on your shoulders."

"Yeah, well…shit happens, I guess."

"I too…am responsible for the death of a woman who was very close to me," Kratos spoke softly, his mind wandering down the dark path he chose not to take very often, for it always lead him into a dead end of self-loathing. He hadn't come up here intending to share this information, but found the words had come out so easily. Almost as if he had been waiting to share this with someone who could possibly understand the feeling.

"Oh…" was the lame reply, and Zelos continued to study his shoes. He supposed a guy like Kratos would have all kinds of skeletons in his closet. Still, despite the grim subject, it was comforting to hear the mercany share something like this with him. He supposed they were even now.

"To truly reconcile for our sins, we must learn to carry the burden of them until death," Kratos spoke as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, "That is the only fitting punishment." He closed his eyes as he spoke. To Zelos it would probably sound like another lesson, but this was more of a reminder for himself.

"Is that so?" Zelos didn't look up, but felt the mattress shift with the added weight. Zelos himself had often thought about ending it. Death sometimes seemed the only possible release from the guilt, and the grudge he felt against the life that had been chosen for him before he had even been born. But, maybe if Kratos could stick it through, Zelos could too. The thought was somewhat inspiring.

"One more thing." The silence before that statement was long, but comfortable, and Zelos was surprised to hear Kratos open his mouth again at all.

"You mean story-time isn't over yet?

"His name is Yuan."

"Huh?"

"The man…I was with," Kratos spoke slowly, hoping not to have to elaborate. Surely Zelos remembered what he as talking about. He decided that Zelos deserved to know, even if he had lost the bet. It was really ridiculous for him to be so secretive about it, anyway. "You asked for a name."

"Oh, that!" Zelos's face brightened, surprised. He had almost forgotten all about that, after the sobering conversation they just had. At least Kratos knew when it was right to change the subject, and he wasn't being so close lipped, either. It was a refreshing change. "Hey, wait a minute…" he trailed off once he gave the statement enough time to really sink in, "His name?"

"Does that surprise you?" Kratos tilted his head towards the other, the battle against letting his mouth curve up into a smile a difficult one.

"Uh, kinda," Zelos scratched his head, turning away from the mercenary's probing gaze. Why did Kratos have to tempt him with fact that he fancied men? "I mean, it's not like I care though. Whatever floats your boat, yanno?"

"We're old friends. He just happened to be in town." And it was a moment of weakness, Kratos would not normally be so inclined to participate in such activities. Sex sort of became less exciting when you got to be as old as he was. Considering how well traveled the Chosen seemed to be in that department, Kratos had to admit was pleased by the boy's shocked reaction. Kratos considered telling him that Yuan was a half-elf too, but decided that probably wouldn't be a wise choice. People with mixed blood were not well accepted in this area, and this fact might cause disgust rather than the increased shock-value Kratos was going for.

"Heh, you surprise me more and more. In any case, it's good to know you're not completely dead inside." Zelos shrugged as he spoke, and it was the truth. "Thanks for coming up here to talk to me. I feel like I get you a little better now. I was getting ready to tell you to screw off."

"Hn," Kratos grunted and stood up. "I should go now. Get some rest, I'll be back early tomorrow for another lesson."

"Ah, back to the strict instructor mode, I get it. If you're trying to run out and see you boyfriend again, you can just tell me the truth." The grin Zelos was wearing widened as Kratos glared at him from over his shoulder.

"Shut up," Kratos all but sighed out, having run out of energy to reply with anything more dignified. The reply suited Zelos just fine, and he laughed as Kratos stepped out the door.

Taking the man's advice, Zelos laid back down on the bed in hopes of setting in for the night. Not like Kratos needed to tell him to sleep though, he was already exhausted. Turning over on his side, Zelos grimaced as the gel on the side of his face stuck to the pillow. Flipping over on his side, he allowed hesitant fingertips to trace the wounded spot, remembering the deceptively gentle touch of another. Burying his face back in the pillow he let out a muffled curse and despite his wishes to sleep like a log, Zelos found sleep didn't come so easy that night.