Ch. 05: Gajeel
Lucy taps my wrist as I take another long swig of vodka. Her ebony eyes are swimming from the pain medication, but still hold great solace in the irises. She gives me a small smile, even as I avoid eye contact. Wendy did a phenomenal job with the wounds—they're not bleeding as profusely anymore, just tender and wrapped up tight—but the pain I inflicted on her remains. She's been hospitalized since last night. I haven't left since the midday.
"I suppose this is one way to get you to come downstairs," she chuckles. "What do you usually do up there, anyway?" I shrug and turn the bottle on its side, watching the liquid race to the left, then the right, and then left again. "Hey," I raise my eyes to her, "don't drink yourself stupid."
"I'm fine." I look out the window towards the distant buildings, mountains in the far west, noticing how mysterious they truly are. "Look at yourself. You think I can put this aside so easily?"
"I'm healing. That's what I see."
"I appreciate your concern, but you shouldn't be comforting me."
"Hm?"
"You focus on you." I cough after a drop of liquor enters the wrong pipe. It burns my sinuses and makes my eyes water, so much that it alerts Lucy. She places a hand on my shoulder, displaying a countenance I've come to associate with pity. I scowl. "Don't look at me like I'm a kicked puppy."
"Your face is turning red."
"I told you I'm fine, so I'm fine."
"Ew!" She scrunches her face up tight. My words might have come out a bit harsher than they needed to, but they spoke the truth. I'm not the one who people should be asking about. "Sting's right. You got a nasty attitude."
"I'm sorry, okay?" I sigh and rub my eyes. I have some alcohol on my fingers and it burns like all hell, but who cares. "How aren't you mad at me?"
"Because I know you didn't mean it." She gently inspects the wrapping on her arms. "I'll be honest; I think I owe you some sick punishment for it. But I know you're not a bad person, Rogue. In fact, you're surprisingly gentle."
"I'll call for Natsu." I turn from her and try to stand up when she grabs my sleeve.
She shakes her head. "Don't."
"Why not?"
"He doesn't need to know."
"He cares a lot about you."
"I know." When I look at her again with a confused frown, she doesn't move an inch. "I know you're going to tell him eventually, but just wait. If you tell him now, he'll be hysterical. Stop looking for ways to punish yourself, you little twerp."
"Twerp?" I crinkle my nose at her. "What are we, ten?"
Lucy says, "If we were, it wouldn't make a difference. I'd still think of you as a twerp."
"Well, if that were the case, it would be the other way around. My birthday's long before yours, and I've got two years over you."
"Physically, maybe. But I'm technically twenty-four." Lucy flips her hair to the side. "And how do you know your birthday's before mine?"
"Try me."
"I'll bite. When's your birthday?"
"February."
"Damn. July."
"You're a Cancer, huh? Yuki, too. The fifth."
"Don't change the subject!" Her brown eyes blaze in false stubbornness. "You're still younger than me, so that still makes you a twerp!"
I'm actually almost four hundred years old, but I shove down the thought of saying that aloud. "So you admit to being an old woman?" She tosses her pillow at my head and laughs. I almost do, forgetting for a split second that she was gravely injured by my hand. The smile I thought to be genuine falls beneath the miasma of despair in my heart. "Um…so, how're you feeling today?"
"I'm okay, Rogue. Wendy is very talented with her healing. I'm just sore now." Lucy opens the book that's been resting on her lap. "Besides, you should really worry about yourself. I heard that Gajeel wants to talk to you." My jaw clenches. "I was able to convince Levy not to hunt you down. Well, me and Erza and Master… But Gajeel's…well, he's yours."
"Yeah…" That sounds anything but appeasing. From the way he reacted last night, he's not going to be in the mood for any of the stalling I usually do. I've never remembered him for his patience. "I should be going, then." I stand up and bow my head to her. "Feel better, Luce."
"Come back anytime. Oh," I stop mid-step and turn back to her. She holds up the book and my entire soul drops. "Wow, what a face. I don't know what your deal is. This is an amazing book!"
"Luce—"
"Lethologica's a good one. I'd love to read your other stuff, too." She turns the hardcover book over, and when I see my name on the laminated sleeve, my heart bursts through my chest. "Between two writers, what's the title mean? I've seen the word before, but it always escapes me."
"It's pretty much when you fail to find a word to describe something," I answer dully. "Or at least, that's what the word means."
Lucy gives me an amused face. "Dodgy, Mr. Cheney. Seems to fit the plot well, too, especially since your protagonist loses his memory and has to fall in love with his wife all over again."
"Thanks…" My face continues to heat up.
"I'll give you a call when I finish this book."
"O…kay. Okay. No rush. At all."
"Rogue," I lift my head to her. "One, you're spilling your liquor on the ground." I look down and turn the bottle up again. "And two, you're late for your date with your brother."
I nod slightly. "Right…I'll see you around, Luce."
Outside are Levy and Gray. Levy shoves past me and skips to Lucy, immediately reversing from anger to sympathy. Even though he defended me last night, I can tell Gray's not all that pleased with me either. I can't blame him or Levy. We walk towards each other, me from the room and him from the kitchen. I walk to the right to let him pass me. We meet eyes, but I break contact and look ahead when my collar is snatched and I'm pushed against the wall around the corner. "Talk," he demands, his fist that holds my clothes growing colder.
"You saw what I did," I say, trying to keep my emotions calm. I take his hand off my clothes. "If you're trying to interrogate me, there's no point. I'll tell you what you want to know." I lift the bottle up to chug down the rest, he takes ahold of my wrist and pins it against the wall by my head. Liquid pours down my body. "Vodka, you know, is a natural skin moisturizer. Take it from a Russian—"
"You think this is funny?"
"The alcohol running down my shoulder, yes."
"Listen, pal. I've been patient enough with you, so I think you'd better start talking." He freezes my arm to the wall with ice almost two inches thick. "Before I really do some damage."
"What're you gonna do, tickle me?" What am I saying right now? I sigh and clear my head. "Look, Gray. What I did to Lucy was not intentional." His grimace eases as he listens to my words, lowering his fist that's intended for my face. "It was my fault, I know that. But I would never hurt her on purpose. You might want to move back." When he does, with one hard jerk, I rip my arm free, breaking the ice to shards on the floor. "And I'm sorry."
"How do I know you're not lying?" Gray says, hiding shock well on his face. His magic's affected by his worry for his comrade.
"I'm thankful for all your guild's done for Sting, Yuki, and me. I would never hurt anyone here with intention." I cross my arms. "That's the truth. I'm not after anyone. I can promise you that."
He stares at me, searching for the evident guilt in my eyes that's not present in my body language, aside from the alcohol. "You're drunk, man." I shrug. "I believe you. And I'd avoid Erza and Natsu until the hype dies down."
"Yeah…thanks." He walks off while I stare at the wall ahead, not moving until I hear the door close. I should go check on Frosch. I left him in my room, in case anything were to happen while I'm out here. It's my fault, not his.
"Rogue—" Yuki's touch startles me so that shadows lash out on the walls and spread on the floor. She gasps and jumps back, a hand over her mouth. Her brown eyes dart from shadow to shadow in trepidation. "R-Rogue," she stammers, "wait…!" She eyes my claws that seem to have slipped out on their own. "It's okay." It's not. "Rogue, it's okay." She gingerly starts to approach me, reaching for my hands. "Come on. It's okay." She'll get hurt.
I turn. "Go away." She stops, but remains.
"Rogue—"
"Yukino."
She comes closer and places her hands on my arm. Her touch is a shock, and I jolt. "Please, put them away. Let me help you."
"You don't want that." I eye her through my hair, retracting my claws. But it's almost as if every time I hide them, they return without hesitation. I'm sorry, Yuki—I frown. "GO!" She shakes once at my voice and backs up slowly before taking off. When the door slams, I bury my face in my hands. Perfect. Yuki—whose soul is so pure and gentle—just witnessed my ugliest side. She saw how much of a monster I am.
I dissipate my magic when I hear the last voice I want to hear right now say, "Hey." Out of instinct, I snatch him in a shadow and toss him out like the trash on the ground of a faraway vacant lot surrounded by trees.
"Damn," I think out loud.
Gajeel stands up slowly, dusting himself off. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
As he speaks, I turn my back to him. I dare not look at him, but for some reason I bitterly laugh. "So much. You have no idea." I toss the empty bottle over my head without a damn care. It crashes.
"This isn't a joke, Ryos."
"I know that. And that's not my name."
"Your magic is out of control."
"You don't need to tell me that."
"Fix it."
"I'm trying."
"You're not," Gajeel continues, stepping closer. "You say you're going to do this, but then you can't because that came up all of the sudden. You act like nothing is wrong, but obviously that ain't the case, is it? You hide and sit around like a damn ghost, just waiting to explode. Don't you want to live life a little? Or you just want to mop all day?" I stare at the clouds, trying to ignore his words. But then he comes and spins me around by the shoulder with a shove to complement the move. "Hello? You listenin' or what?"
I frown. "Don't act like you know me."
He shoots back, "I do know you."
The alcohol comes up for an instant; I swallow it back down. "You…" I swallow again. "You knew Ryos. Maybe. That's not me anymore, so please try to understand that." He's about to keep talking, and since I don't want to hear him, I go on, "Neither of us wants to hear this right now, so I'll cut to the chase. Leave me alone."
"Leave you alone?"
"I want to be alone by myself in complete silence on a deserted island to do as I please, totally wild and free." Hearing myself say this…is strange. But it's what I need. It's for the better of the entire world. "Just…alone." My shoulders drop. Gajeel watches me, unmoved, so I craft a more believable face and raise my chin to him. "I am very busy, so excuse me—"
"Not so fast, Ryos." I groan. "You say you're not the same person, but you're just as stubborn as I remember. And the Ryos I know was always terrified of being alone."
"Well," I snap, "I'm all grown up now! Funny how time just flies!"
"Don't get pissy with me just because I'm right!" I roll my eyes slowly. His eyes sear through my head in dual hot spheres. "So what, is Rogue just some morphed disguise Ryos is wearin' to hide behind? How come all this Rogue guy wants is to continue torturin' Ryos?"
"Stop!" I frown up at him. "Don't try to pester me like you have any kind of authority over me!" In the lingering silence, I regain my composure. "Don't try and get inside my head. There's already someone there."
"Look, Ryos—"
"Can we just…not talk about this?" I hold my arms. That chill is back. "Please?"
"You're a confusing one, pipsqueak." Crossing his arms, he smiles widely when I stare at him in question. "Or maybe I'm just excited to beat your bratty ass around again."
I squint and cross my arms back. "I'm not a child anymore," I say, saving my pride. "I've said it a thousand times: I'm not afraid of you."
"Right. Talk tough now; I'll have you beggin' for mercy soon enough." He gestures outwardly to the open field, ignoring me. "We're in a perfect place for a spar, don't ya think?"
"Look, I'm in a bad mood. Besides, shouldn't you be with Levy? I think she could use some comfort from her boyfriend."
"You think you're fine?" He drops his smile to a blistering frown. "Prove it. Let's start by talking about Lucy. What did you do?"
I slouch. "Gajeel—"
"Tell me, dammit!" He grabs my shoulders, lifts me off the ground, and shakes me. "Your shit attitude is buggin' me! So spill it!"
I jerk away. "You saw!"
"I want to hear you say it!" I rake my fingers through my hair and grip at the scalp.
Gajeel stumbles back a bit when I shove him with all my weight. "I hurt her, okay?!" My hair flies with this rough gesture, strands falling into my eyes, in the corner of my mouth, everywhere. But all I see is him. I grab my hair at the scalp again in a synergy of shame and anger and guilt. "I was asleep and I was having a nightmare and I stabbed Lucy!" He watches me when I drop to my knees. "I stabbed Lucy…"
"You're pathetic, Ryos," he lectures. "So you thought alcohol was going to fix all that as you just sit here like a helpless little girl."
"You don't understand. It's because I hurt another person." I drop my hands, letting them slap against my legs. "I can't get help because I'll only end up hurting that person, and then more people." I stand and get in his face. "Of course you don't know that. So don't you stand there and tell me—" I almost lose it, but then he slaps me across the face with a heavy hand. I'm left standing here, dumbstruck, with a five-fingered swell forming on my face. We stare at each other, waiting for one of us to speak. I frown. "Who do you think you are?" My voice comes out husky and scratchy. "Huh—"
"You're being a dumb-ass."
"You have no right to smack me." I advance towards him, something I would never do to anyone. Not even on the battlefield. I shove him harder than before. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"
"Fight me." He reads my face and gestures to himself again. "C'mon. You and me."
I squint at him, a hand to my burning cheek. "You're crazy. I'm too drunk to even try to run."
"Surprise, surprise." Gajeel bares his sharp teeth with a taunting laugh. "Another drunk Russian."
I roll my eyes. "You're Russian, too, moron. Now can we just end this pointless talk and stay away from each other as usual? I'm a busy man with a needy girlfriend who I'd rather attend to than talk in circles with you."
He ignores me, of course, and goes on cracking his neck. "You always were creative with your excuses." I roll my eyes again. "You're a ticking time bomb. And when you're not sulking by yourself, you're cutting your arm up until you can barely stand." I instinctively grab my bandaged arm and hold it behind my back. The stinging throb gives a heartbeat under my skin. "So let's get that crap out of ya before you explode."
"Fine," I ready myself. "Don't waste my time." I make my move after he leans his weight in the balls of his right foot, both of us charging at each other through the crisp air. He throws the first punch; I parry his incoming fist to the left and flip over his back, using his arm as leverage. Just as I'm about to land my foot on his face, he lashes an arm out, making me duck. I backflip away to make distance between us, kicking his chin in the process.
Gajeel holds his face and smirks at me like he's about to kill me. The same look he had on when I taunted him in the Grand Magic Games. "You're as elusive as ever." As expected, his dominant arm is sheathed by an iron sleeve and extends to where I stand, smashing into the floor and kicking up rocks. That would've been me—crushed in the dirt—had I stayed put.
"And you're just as ruthless as I remember," I mutter, really as a reminder that I shouldn't expect much mercy from him in a spar. Gajeel comes over like the wind and tries to run a hole through my skull with the same rod. I dodge enough to avoid the mass blow, but the ignition knocks me back. I crash through a tree, wood chunks stabbing into my arm. Blood drips into the dirt. When I mentioned his lack of mercy in training, that did not mean I expected a hit that hard. I force my eyes to his just in time to see his cheeks bloating up. Darkness engulfs the area around me, casting wind to push the dirt around. I dive into the shadow of the tree to evade his Iron Roar. Its outer shell smacks my ankle at the last second, but it doesn't cripple me.
"You're still runnin'?! How boring!" He comes out of nowhere—well, probably because I'm staring over my shoulder at his previous location—and socks me to the floor, forcing me into tangibility. My head bangs hard as I go sliding a few feet on the ground, bringing dust and grass with me. "Are you kiddin' me, Ryos? This is what it's come to?" I lie here on my side, waiting for my ears to stop ringing, listening to his verbal onslaught. It's like we're kids and I'm at his mercy on the training grounds again. "Would you quit screwin' with me and get up?" I sit upright, and then bend over, holding my thudding head between my knees. "I said up. Knock it off, Ryos—"
I shut him the hell up with a Shadow Roar to the face. He flies off. "Just back up off of me!" I shout after him, watching my makeshift shooting star. "Acting like you know all about me. Well, you don't!" For reasons only concerning the large amount of alcohol I consumed, I throw up my middle finger at him as he soars. "So to hell with you, jack-ass!" And out of drunken spite, this is hilarious.
There's a mushroom of dust in the distance a mile away. I suppose I should head over there to make sure he's okay—or to finish the fight. Either way. I travel via shadow toward him and come to a sharp stop that makes skid marks in the dirt, exposing the moist undercoat. Gajeel's on his back, sprawled, with his eyes closed. I roll my eyes. "You get up." But when I gently kick him, he doesn't react. "Gajeel." Nothing. "Gajeel?" My drunken stagger makes me fall on my ass, so I crawl over to his side. "Shit," I panic, trying anything to get even a twitch of the eye from him. I pinch his arm. Nothing. I bring my hands to my face, grasping my hair and pulling. Anything to wake myself up from whatever trance I'm in that caused me to hurt another person. Wake up. Come on. He's not moving. Maybe I should go get Wendy, but I know I shouldn't leave him here alone. Maybe I can carry him back to Fairy Tail. "Holy shit. Damn it!"
"Nice mouth."
I drop my hands and get a little closer to him when he opens his eyes. "Gajeel?" I'm met with his monstrous fist to the mouth. It takes me a while to comprehend that I'm back flipping up to heaven. All of the sudden, my hair stops slapping my face and that stirring feeling in my stomach makes me nauseous. I'm falling from the sky; that's what my greeting back to reality is. On the ground, Gajeel's shading his eyes from the sun, just waiting for me to crash at his feet. I squint through the wind, falling head first. "Bastard." If he thinks this fight is over, he's tragically wrong. If he expected to win, he should've knocked me unconscious. Blasting me into the sky opens another window of opportunity. With Shadow Dragon's Slash forming as a mist of black with a purple heartbeat, I hold my arm by my ear, ready to pummel his face in.
Picking up momentum, I lead the attack with my shoulder before thrusting my spell-enhanced fist to his face. He blocks my hand, but the blast causes the earth to rumble and him to take a knee, receiving about half—but more than enough—of my magic's rage. His forehead is cut by an airborne rock and blood runs down his face. "So what?" he grunts, unwilling to admit that I'm making him struggle. I intensify my magic's force and he has to use his other arm to keep me away. "Not bad, pipsq—"
"Don't you dare!" It's a new and reckless move, but I bury my face with shadows and head-butt him right in the nose. He falls to the floor; I regain my footing and stagger a few steps before collapsing to my knees. "Your head's really as hard as they say," I announce, head in my hands to numb the dull pain. Sweat stings my eyes, so I close and rub them to little avail, really just massaging dirt into my corneas. A warm thread of blood runs between my eyes and drips from my chin.
This is typical in a fight between slayers, even in mock battles.
He slowly sits upright, groaning like a middle-aged man. "Jesus," he bares his sharp teeth in a cringe. "You gonna kill us both with that kamikaze move." I stare at him in apprehension as he miraculously stands high and mighty with the blood slithering down his cheek. He fingers at the cuts on his face. "You know I got a damn date tonight, right?" No matter how I will them, my legs refuse to work. I'm stuck to the floor as if gravity's too much to handle. "Levy ain't gonna be so happy to see my face like this."
I swallow my tongue, but not before begrudgingly remarking, "It was your idea to fight me."
"You're so dead," he hisses with a haunting smirk, approaching me while cracking his knuckles.
I chuckle, realizing that my mouth isn't helping my situation. I force my legs to carry me just far enough to evade him once. He almost snatches my collar when they give, but luckily I already have a shadow ready. I disappear from the area before he can realize what just happened. For my own sanity, I remain in the shadows of trees and rocks and even ants until he's…not so bloodthirsty. After a few safe seconds, I sink into his shadow and right when he starts to put the pieces together, I re-materialize and unleash a screen of tendrils on him, the same way I did during the Games.
It's because I'm an idiot that I did not recall that he had already found a way to shield himself from that direct attack. His arm and entire facing side converts from skin and cloth to pure iron. By his flinching, it still hurts, but is enough protection to still move and— "Iron Dragon's Club!" His arm transforms into a large iron club, hence the name, and spawns another smaller baton at the end because clearly one massive stick isn't enough for me. Anyway, I avoid the first one without much effort, but as it races pass me, another rod emerges horizontally from the body and gets me in the gut. I'm a coughing mess beyond any other time I've had the wind knocked from me. And since I'm obviously unfazed by the previous hit and since I'm his 'snot-nosed brother,' the original club spawns another baton that thwacks me straight on the ass when I'm about to run off again. I fall to my knees from the hit. When I try to stand again, he hits me back down the same way. And again. And…again.
"Will you—" I Roar at him to make the assault end. When the black dissipates, Gajeel's getting back on his feet. "In case you forgot," I get to my feet, "this is a fight! So schoolyard bullying me!"
"Heh, you keep moping around like a toddler and I'll do it again."
I turn my back on him to gain distance for my next attack when my back is struck by his rod again. I crash-land on my face hard, making my heels kick the back of my head. "Asshole," I spit out dirt and struggle to my knees. He simply laughs heartily behind me. "Y'know, jokes aside, that really hurt!" I yell at him across the battleground.
"Cry me a river!"
There's a part of me that aches with shameful tears, but not from this fight. What I did to Lucy last night fills my mind. The screams, the blood, and the shadow's cackle. I have no intention to hurt anyone. There's no reason—they've been so welcoming and kind. How, I wonder. How can she be so forgiving? My thoughts cloud Gajeel's succeeding attack; the kaleidoscope of emotions I'm enduring throws my self-control in the trash. When I flinch away from his Iron Lance, a sea of shadows beyond tame spreads like wildfire across the floor. It wraps itself around Brother's ankles and starts climbing his body, yanking him down with distinguishable, long-fingered hands.
"What the crap?!" It's like quicksand. "Hey, what're you tryin' to do?" I can do nothing but stare in horror at him, slowly disappearing. Leaving again. Angry at me again. I can't control my own magic, and I'm not even in my Drive. I've failed Skiadrum. "Call it off! You tryin' to kill me?"
"I'm trying!" Focus never grants me the ability to stop it.
"Get my ass outta here! Hurry up!"
I try to stop it, twice, five times, without success. I freeze; all I'm good at is staring like an idiot, watching others fix my mess. All I'm good at is being afraid, trembling. "I…" Gajeel's almost chest-deep. What do I do? No matter how hard I focus, nothing works. If anything, he's sinking faster! My magic energy is like water slipping through cupped hands.
No matter how I clasp, it escapes through the tiniest crevice.
It's a mess inside my body.
I can't control it…!
Skiadrum, what do I do?! I can't—
Gajeel's Iron Fist knocks me out of whatever subconscious stupor I've placed myself in. I slam my head against a tree stump. After a sharp whiplash, I see him holding an Iron Kunai straight at my eye. Out of instinct, I tense up and stare into the menacing tip, imagining it driving through my skull. My breath halts.
"You can't, huh? What a load of crap." I flick my eyes up to him, breathing hard. "Don't try and hide it. I know that sorry look in your eyes."
"I just thought—"
"No. Stand up." I remain leaning against the tree, eyes closed, trying to catch my breath, trying to breathe off the pain—both from my usual joint aches and the fight. Slowly, I shake my head. "Up, Ryos." I rest my head against the bark and accept defeat. I stifle a gasp when he roughly snatches my arm. "Get up."
"I'm done," I admit.
"What'd you say?" He puts his head close to mine. I growl and turn my face away. "You're mumbling again. Knock that off and stand up." I ignore his belligerent demands, dripping sweat and blood down my neck. "Ryos!" I flinch at his thunderous voice, at the sharpness of my birth name that I swore off. "Stand. Up."
Against my body's cries for mercy, I force my legs to stand. Only to then be punched back down. My neck snaps from the hard landing on my side. "What was the point of that?" My voice is raspy, a terrible excuse of a whisper.
"Stand." After a moment and another stern frown, I do, and am met with the same fate
This time, the hit spins me around and knocks me face first into the tree. I catch myself on the body, but don't dare turn to face him. So I frown at the roots standing out from the grass. My face is bruised and my legs have lost all the strength I mustered up just to stand. I'm running entirely on fumes. Just clinging to the tree for dear life. "Stop."
"Do you know why I did that?"
"So you can have an excuse to punch me."
"Well, that's a bonus. But what's the main reason?" From the side, I eye him in question, or unwillingness to answer. "Because you hesitate."
I chuckle bitterly, placing my forehead on the rigid bark. "With obvious reason."
"Hesitation is a jerk," he states without sarcasm in his tone. "It's the reason we're still alive, but it's also the reason we take such brutal beatings sometimes. For you, it's the reason you're such a mess. That, and fear."
"Why do you care?" I ask, finally turning around and sliding down to sit against the bark. "Why does that matter to you?"
"Because the more you hesitate," he chucks the Iron Kunai at me, making it stab handle-deep in the bark. Wooden chunks fly out, scratching my cheek. My breath is sharp and tight as I tentatively, but boldly stare at him. "That more vulnerable you'll be. It's common sense and I do recall telling you that years ago. The enemy won't show mercy, so neither should you."
I suck in some more air, still petrified and exhausted. "Mercy is a tricky thing, Brother. I refuse to withhold it unnecessarily."
"Sometimes you have to. That's what men do; they may not like it, but there are situations that force them to. I do it."
"Well, you're you. I'm not you."
"You don't hesitate; you hit your mark." Then, under his breath, he mutters, "and here I thought I sucked at throwing knives." He reads the expression on my face and grins. "Lighten up, Ryos. Ain't the first time we've done this exercise."
"You could've killed me," I growl, touching the blood on my neck that tickles my skin.
"But I didn't hesitate."
"So you wanted to kill me?"
"Well, no."
"You're not making sense."
"Actually, I am."
"You just wanted another chance to beat me up."
"The slap in the face was to shut you up. The punches contributed to the lesson. The rod to the ass was for my satisfaction. Well, and you've got a sucky attitude sometimes." He bends over and snatches the kunai beside me ear before helping me up. "Don't call yourself my brother if you intend to keep on being so hopeless."
"Yeah, okay," I agree. "Thank you." He stares at me in surprise that widens his eyes, making them less intimidating. I smile through the bruises and scratches and wipe away the now-crusty lines of blood spilling from my hairline only for more to come down. "Your methods are crap, like always, but…I should thank you. And I'm sorry I kicked you the other night."
He pats my back before crossing his huge arms over his chest. "Don't get all emotional on me, shorty. Go get some rest and take care of that face." I nod and watch him walk off. But then he stops. "You got any problems, just come on over to my room. Unless it's past midnight. You're on your own, then." I stare at him until a smile curls on his face and let my own expand. "Damn brat. Don't expect this to be a normal thing."
It took years of disappointment and resentment to know that for sure. But right now, I don't feel the urge to ball my fists at him or to scream and ask him why he left all those years ago. I don't feel the compulsion to constantly prove to him that I'm good enough to call myself his brother. That is, until I notice the most obvious thing in front of me. I'm watching him go, staring at the back of his head again. And I start to feel numb. The other thing I do feel is…the solace of having my face punched in by my brother, and then disappointment that things will never be this way again. I don't have to see my own face to know it's dropping.
He told me not to act so hopeless. So I will have to try, and I'll do it by myself.
