Chapter Two: Take and Give

Garland was not a talkative fighter, which suited his opponent just fine – hardly talkative in any situation. Instead, he was thoughtful to a fault, waiting so long with a solemn, open-handed mannerism that Kai in fact grew bored, rolled his eyes, and took the initiative upon his self, attacking with a series of calm, measuring combinations. Both were careful not to be backed into a corner (in any sense of the phrase), both were mindful of body language and the telling glint of eyes sighting an opening, and both were, initially, evenly matched.

The elder in the fight continued his circling, taking a page from the book of a vulture warily scoping out fresh road kill, as Kai maintained a steady position in the center of the room, blank stare following the taller sparring partner's every move, shifting to keep his left shoulder more or less perpendicular to Garland's chest at all times in an attempt at narrowing the already effectively narrow target his body presented, unless some daring dive foreword put them temporarily at the edge, which did occasionally occur if one or the other noted an opportunity for as much. Several minutes into the fight and the two young men continued to feel each other out.

This was entirely the fault of neither wishing to give up the edge of mystery first – they had not, in all of their experience observing one another, seen the full extent of measurable power. It was a slow, quiet push and pull for authority, power, domination. It was about waiting for the right moment, and the youngest C-Bolt, for one, lived by just such a philosophy. Kai did not. He made the right moments. He forced victory. He forced hands, and it was not going to be any different this time. Garland was nothing but another mediocre challenger.

Kai stepped swiftly ahead, planting his left foot hard into the floor and feinting what might have been a roundhouse kick into the other's skull, attempting to prod his instinctive reply: raise the arm, block the kick that would not come – it was successful: Garland, for a moment or so, left his solar plexus open, and as the phoenix bearer was already propelled foreword and turning, Kai drew his right arm back, slammed his right heel to earth for a much-needed recovery of balance, and drove the elbow of said arm in a breath-taking slam towards his opponent's stomach.

However, the problem with a moment or so is that a skillful fighter (Garland was about as well-trained as he looked) knows how to fill it. His free hand shot downwards and painfully diverted the elbow away from its mark as the wayward kick-blocking arm simultaneously shifted into a left-hook aimed for the back of Kai's head, every inch of superior height utilized. He gave his customary startling yelp (which, by this time, didn't startle anybody), power-point for a crushing blow, fist rapidly approaching black hair, flying narrowly past black hair, missing a shoulder by a hair's breadth, and pulling him straight down to a knee with the force of momentum.

Garland barely prevented his avoided attack from colliding with the mat (his hands had already hurt to begin with…) and, while rising to his feet, frantically sought the form of Kai with a sharply narrowed gaze – it was found turning to face him about a yard away to the right, pulling quickly out of the crouch he'd assumed when throwing himself past and out of the way of the punch. Garland stood perpendicular, and, not missing a beat or his supposed opening, Kai planted his left foot once again and let fly an actual roundhouse.

The pony-tailed foreigner's chestnut eyes widened, feeling the too-close brush of air across his face as he dived to the front-right and around the expertly turned foot, coming to a standstill on the other side of it as Kai was forced to follow through with his own evaded hit. Garland, noting the necessity of tacking his partner down somehow, lest he continue to dodge things and tire them both, expertly swept the shorter boy's planted leg out from underneath him before he was completely steady and while he was still turned away – it had been but a second of perfect circumstance, but all Garland had needed.

Kai went down like a rock on his left hip and hastily placed forearm, snarling something unintelligible in surprise and anger. The professionally trained elder was just about to follow him to the ground and put a lock on his dangerous limbs when Kai flipped onto his back, well sick of not having an eye on "the enemy". Caught up in a vicious glare abruptly sent his direction, Garland hesitated momentarily – and then registered pain shooting through his kneecaps when the other's swinging right leg caught them from behind and dragged him (in not at all the purposeful way he'd had planned) to the mat. Hard.

He hissed through clenched teeth, in no position to argue the fact that the Hiwitari was rapidly scrambling out of range and regaining two feet, much more interested in doing likewise. In the time it took to blink fully, both of the fighters were back to their usual tactics of circling and eyeing, though the silence was rather more apprehensive than how it had begun, and each had a noticeable limp – however commendably they attempted to conceal them.

The gryphon bearer, frustrated that Kai was slipping out of his grip at every turn, turned his concentration fully to forming some strategy that might keep him still long enough to hit. His best bet was the fact that for split-seconds at a time, the other had shown him his back, the most careless thing one could do in a fight, unless it had a use – he was almost certain the cases had been accidental, however, and wished to take advantage of some tiny snippet of experience that Kai had not managed to acquire just yet. As usual, he was going to wait for a mistake, for the blue-tattooed teenager to dig his own grave. All Garland had to do was give him a little push.

Kai, true to his nature, was again on the offensive, peppering the elder with liberal amounts of hand and foot strikes, each deftly engineered, each carefully blocked as they neared their marks. Garland had since gathered that Kai lacked a definitive style and was obviously not trained in any sort of discipline, as he'd been – but rather, it was a ragtag, opportunistic mix one tends to find on the street, filled with brutal attacks and narrow escapes, every decision driven by instinct… and it worked for him. It was nothing short of exactly what Garland had expected of the fire-blader; he'd mainly been curious about the part-Russian's reactions to pain, having witnessed how he dealt with it during beybattles –

As an experiment, while, for the first time both of the other's arms were occupied staving off a diversionary jumping front-kick, Garland re-routed his energy into punching him in the face. It was pulled, perhaps, just in time, but Kai was nevertheless sent reeling back a few paces, head bowed and tilted slightly to the side. When his garnet gaze appeared again through the shadow of long bangs, it was harsh, icy, and laughing. "That didn't hurt at all," Kai stated, dead-pan, the barest of smiles playing across his lips. A vicious red mark had begun to spread across one of his cheekbones.

Garland was impressed – had his fist hit the jaw, where he'd aimed, the other blader could very well have been knocked out cold. Instead, Kai had leant in to cut off the limb's full extension and sought to divert it to his forehead where the blow could be absorbed for minimal damage… The last tactic had partially failed, but that was to be expected, considering the absolutely minute time span he'd possessed to implement it within. "I'm not trying to kill you, Kai," Garland explained, voice wondering and utterly affable as he paced back and forth, aching knees silently popping with each shift of weight.

The Hiwitari took a few measured breaths, fists loosening somewhat at his sides and then re-tightening with added vigor. "That's why you'll lose," he murmured, having looked away to his opponent's moving feet. While Garland busied himself considering this declaration, deeply shell-shocked, Kai stewed in irritation and impatience. He was used to blowing people out of the water. This was taking too long. It had to end quickly, before he ran out of energy and had to draw it from… something else. As the older boy played it defensively, Kai had not been able to find it within himself to do the same – consequently, his endless attacks were beginning to take their toll.

No matter. A single, good, clean hit hidden among a flurry of others, and he'd win. Garland's nerves were failing him… it was clear on his face. He didn't like being avoided – when he actually decided to attack, it was under the impression that it would only take that one attack. In this little sparring match, his carefully measured killing strikes had proven meaningless time and again. Kai was not such an idealist. He tended to grow annoyed as things of this sort dragged on, but was willing to do all it took to beat the enemy down to size. Grind them to dust, if needed. Relying on perfect calculation – however much a testament to his opponent's superb education in several forms of martial arts and, conceivably, some kind of boxing – was stupid against somebody as comparatively erratic as Kai; Garland would just have to be taught the hard way.

"Ah, Kai, you're –" the other began, almost ready to voice his preconceived concern after the phoenix bearer's questionable state of mind, but was near instantly cut off – drawing in a surprised gasp as the slate-haired teen in question literally flung himself onto his opponent, barrel-driving him into the suddenly not-so-cushy flooring and scrambling in such an extremely haphazard series of movements that Garland was instantly reminded of a rabid fan that had attacked him at an expo once, and began to fear the younger teenager had gone insane in like fashion… The "scrambling" ended up with Kai's already bruised right elbow jammed heavily (though not deadly-heavily) into the base of the gryphon bearer's throat, and his prostrate form (rather more weighty than it looked, considering the pounds of muscle he'd been adding to a perpetually, deceptively lean frame as of late) stretched across Garland's, one leg drawn up to tack his captive's left arm to the floor, Kai's free hand doing the same to his right.

Garland stared at the ceiling for a second or two, fully embarrassed that he'd been lulled into a false sense of security, or been distracted by simple (however odd) dialogue, or something… embarrassed that he'd allowed himself to be barrel-driven-and-strangely-pinned-like-some-common-schoolboy-in-a-parkinglot-fight… But really, how in the hell did you guard against chaos? He was not trained to deal with that. Apparently Kai had noticed and decided to act upon it.

Finding his predicament uncomfortable and vulnerable, it took the blue-haired, brown-eyed C-Bolt no longer to take action towards the desired end of freeing himself. This merely involved shifting his hand-held right arm sharply back until it was possible to yank it (very painfully) towards Kai's thumb and so out of the grip – here Kai lost his precarious balance, as a great deal of weight had been resting on that now unsettled anchor, and was forced to shift himself heavily left, collapsing fully across the other boy with a muffled "umph", rather than right, in which case he'd have crushed Garland's windpipe with his elbow. Maybe some tiny part of him showed mercy after all.

It was then only a matter of sitting up (groaning with the effort) and shoving Kai forcefully to remove his bony knee from Garland's other pinned arm. Now possessing the ability to move, however ungracefully he'd re-obtained it, Garland rubbed his positively throbbing left shoulder and glared at the younger blader as he dragged himself slowly on hands and knees off of the gryphon bearer's outstretched legs. Kai settled himself a few feet off, also sitting up, and eventually chanced a distasteful (though furtively triumphant) look at Apollon's owner, willing to wait until he recovered before they resumed their fight.

"Kai, you're… you were right. There's no point to this if you're just going to exhaust yourself. It was nothing but a joke, man," Garland quietly admonished, well aware that half the reason he'd been taken off-guard was that he was expecting something, frankly, slower from Kai. The sweat beading across the Russian's pale skin hadn't gone unnoticed, and in all of his experience when sparring, blading, against anybody, there existed this sensibility of pacing yourself once you'd become tired – trying not to burn out. He had certainly not been waiting for some very energetic desperation attack; though, and given, it was an undoubtedly clever move to make.

The Hiwitari, for his part, had not been expecting such words as this. He searched Garland's stolid face for a time, half-sneering, before forming his slow and nigh' exasperated reply: "So what, you're throwing in the towel? I'm not the one panting like some sort of dog, Garland." Sure, he was a little worn around the edges… but he could take it. There was absolutely no reason for this young man with the strange older sister to worry about anyone but himself. Kai felt absolutely no shame for his sweat – the C-Bolt blader looked completely unsettled by his sudden tackle, and that was something to be ashamed of. Being taken by surprise… psh.

"Now you're just being stubborn, for somebody who didn't want to go in the first place," Garland firmly said, gaze rolled upwards in theatrical annoyance. "This is not a life or death situation. I should never have asked you," he added, picking at the rubber band that had snapped at some point during their little game and become tangled in his now partially loose hair.

"No, you probably shouldn't have," Kai eagerly, angrily agreed, able to tell that Garland didn't intend to finish their fight – if it was because he felt sorry for him… How dare some easily manipulated, second-rate blader presume to pity Kai Hiwitari!

An absolute, irate silence settled between them as Garland pretended to be occupied with his hair and examining the bruises that were beginning to appear, mind turned to how badly his silly little request made not ten minutes prior had already ended – and here he'd promised Kai he wouldn't be leaving mad. He was obviously mad. Well, there was nothing for it. Kai would just have to stay until he wasn't pissed then, wouldn't he? Not that he would be made to stay, not that Garland had any motivation to deal with a ticked off Kai… he absolutely did not. Looking up, the older teenager caught the reflected stare of the shorter, despondent boy in the mirrored wall, as he'd previously turned towards it and apparently been looking over his bluish-red marked cheekbone with an expression of total disinterest.

"Why do you have to take everything so seriously?" the former BEGA captain sighed, genuinely wanting to know.

The former BBA captain did not sigh, though he noiselessly exhaled and ran a hand shaking with adrenalin-charged nerves through his untidy mop of hair. For a few moments he toyed with the option of remaining absolutely silent, but, in the end: "There are some people… I still have to prove myself, that's all." He didn't care if Garland understood or not.

"You don't have to prove anything to me," followed the thoughtful, definitive reply, paired with the elder's furrowed brow and slight, quizzical frown. The young Hiwitari said nothing to that for so long that Garland couldn't help but continue on his own. "Kai, like you said, you showed me wrong when you did the impossible before – when you took down Brooklyn." He watched closely for the effects that name in particular might have…

"That was never impossible," Dranzer's owner eventually growled, jaw clenching and unclenching in the only outward show of his inwardly waning patience.

"…All the same, I know you're tough – tougher than me, maybe, at least in the dish. I guess people really do fight like they blade, huh? You'll do anything to win – and I, heh, I just hoped you'd cool it a little," Garland attempted, to the best of his ability, to calm Kai down, sensing that getting testy at him in return was definitely not the way to go. It had been obvious from their first meeting onward that successful dealing with the socially impaired Hiwitari took caution, understanding, and… finesse. "So lighten up. I know you're tough," Garland smiled slightly, beginning to stand.

"I didn't mean prove myself to people like you. I meant to me. I like to prove to… that I can do things. I like to know that nothing is impossible," Kai admitted after a drawn out pause, finding it difficult to express exactly what he meant, but, for some unknown reason, confident that Garland could draw his own conclusions without a great deal of assistance. He too stiffly stood up, turning a wary eye towards the other side of the room when there was a light knock on the door through which he'd entered, one part relieved that somebody's interruption would prevent his sparring partner from acknowledging the too-much information Kai had just given him, the other part still annoyed that they weren't finishing the fight until he'd thoroughly won it.


Author's Notes: You realize I'm only doing this because you people wanted me to, right?

It took a long time to decide on their fighting styles – and yeah, I know they came out a real random mess, but what do you want from me? I have absolutely no idea what form of martial arts Garland was going on about, and, though I attempted to find out – such efforts proved fruitless and I got sick of trying. How they fight was pretty much based on how they blade: for example, Garland spending half of his time analyzing the opponent before taking them out with the minimum of effort…

I don't traditionally go for the physically impossible stuff, but realize it was probably confusing regardless. I'm sorry, but couldn't avoid it. It's difficult sometimes to effectively express what one is imagining in words.

I'm having a hard time with Garland, and hope he seems enough in character to you guys. I'm highly suspicious of the way he's acting, you know. I never found him particularly caring towards Kai, per se, but he is awfully understanding and, I donno, intuitive when it comes to other people.

I like the hurtful opinions Kai reveals he has of people when he's angry.

It's 3 AM as I write this, and I am very tired. Would have involved more stuff in that fight, but it was getting long and I was getting weary. I've always been more interested in dialogue and characterization anyway. Oh God, is Kai talking too much? I'll need to quiet him a little.

I knew I was setting myself up. And it's still too early for Brooklyn, though, I… I guess he'll be in as soon as I figure out a graceful way to go about it. Yeah, he'll… be there. It's just too convenient for Kai to visit Garland's house and not run into all the residents, isn't it? Kylie will be back soon too. I wouldn't have involved her so heavily in the first place if she wasn't returning. Yup, she's a plot device.

Forget Kai, I need to quiet myself a little.

Ciao.