As he felt the repairing warmth of his brother's hand return to his blood, he felt most of the hope lost return to its original place. He sighed happily, getting a wave of overwhelming emotions out as he smiled helplessly, finding the color return to Kenneth's eyes. It's been a while since he's awoken, and Daniel finally let go of his brother's hand, leaving the live warmth he had returned himself. He trickled his chest with his fingers just to make sure it was all real, feeling the light, hopeful touch of his fingertips run down his body ever so slowly. The exciting touch of his fingertips brought Daniel even more down to reality, until he was over exceedingly sure that his brother had returned to life.

But something didn't feel right to Daniel. He still felt guilty… and he knew immediately what it was. Shintenmaru had left a long time ago, stating that he had to report the good news to everyone else as he walked out slowly and steadily.

"So…" Kenneth coughed out in a weak voice, his condition making it hard to speak. His voice was raspy like claws scratching against a wooden wall. "I'm guessing that… I didn't win the fight?"

"No, you didn't," Daniel said hesitantly, bowing his head to the floor, watching the orange plaster begin to dust with dirt. Daniel tried running his fingers down his chest again, but it gave no comfort. All of it had been carelessly washed away earlier, and he immediately regretted it.

"Is that so?" Kenneth said creakily, sounding like a just opened door. He turned his head with a struggle, his guardian eyes piercing to the ceiling top barely lit up by the one dim light that set the room a bare alight. "I see."

Daniel felt guilt begin to take over him and an enormous amount of pain that somehow mixed in with his seemingly everlasting joy, making him happy and sad at the same time. He felt more tears begin to run down the side of his cheek, the new cold settling in again. His eyes went from wide normal to slump sadness.

"What's wrong?" Kenneth asked, noticing the darkened teardrops slide freely down his brother's face. It hurt Kenneth so much to see his brother in any kind of pain. It hurt him so much, it could've compared to the beginning of heartbreak. Kenneth put a depressed glaze into his stare as he pleaded silently for Daniel to raise his head from the floor and look at him. "Tell me," he said a little stronger and normal this time.

"You…" Daniel said, this time his voice the weaker one, the sound shaking and unstable in its pitch. "You almost died," he reminded Kenneth, giving a loud sniff that filled the whole room. "And I'm… I'm always the one hiding behind you. Even now."

"Yeah, but…" Kenneth began, unsure of what to say with his creaky voice. "My almost dying has nothing to do with my protecting you. They're two different things," Kenneth said, his glazed eyes turning sad and sympathetic, taking a deep breath and breathing it out in a silent whistle.

"No," Daniel denied, taking a hand to wipe away the tears. "Things are different now," Daniel made a note, Kenneth listening carefully. "There's more danger out there; something you can't even protect me from. White Cloak will kill you, Kenneth. He'll kill all of us and take our powers. You can't protect me from something like that anymore."

"Well," Kenneth said, wanting to compromise, his glimmering eyes wandering off to the side. He returned the stare "I…" he began, his voice coming in a whisper. "I can try…" he said, his voice wandering off.

'No!" Daniel cut him off. His stare was still heavy on the floor. He completely denied staring at his brother's own eyes, to find himself swimming in them, being safe inside his guardian stare while his brother continually got hurt any longer. "When it comes down to the point where you die for me, I'll never… never forgive myself! Got it?" Daniel demanded, his body beginning to shake violently, feeling himself lose control over his nerves.

Kenneth stayed quiet solemnly and continued pleading Daniel to look up. Daniel never replied his calls of sympathy. Kenneth found himself speechless, not knowing what to say. All he wanted to do was protect his brother. But in a way, Daniel was right. Maybe Kenneth had been smothering him too much with protection. Maybe he had cared about him so much like an overprotective parent, that he isolated his own brother so he would remain safe while he let himself take the hits. Now, he realized it. Now, Kenneth finally realized, that he had been trying all along to be the parent the two brothers never had. Kenneth pushed back his tears easily, his eyes only coming up to a level of watering. Kenneth felt guilty as well. He was sorry, and didn't want to go on any longer. But he cared about his brother so much… and it was too late. He had all ready let go. It's been consuming my life, Kenneth thought. Now, I feel kind of… empty.

"That's why," Daniel said, sniffing and wiping his eyes beneath his glasses. "That's why; you have to give me a turn this time. This time, I won't be scared any longer, and this time… I'll be the one who protects you," Daniel insisted with much demand, making Kenneth proud. Kenneth smiled and sighed as he closed his eyes gracefully, now trying extremely hard to push back the tears of joy and pride. I never thought I'd hear you say these words and mean it, Daniel, he thought with a smile. Those very words made him feel like a proud being for influencing someone they cared for so much in a good way.

"Okay," Kenneth approved finally, stopping Daniel's tears almost immediately.

"What?" Daniel said, unsure of whether his brother was fooling him. He looked up to find Kenneth returning the stare, their eyes finally meeting each other in a lock that both sides had learned to easily let go of. Daniel felt freer now. Now, no longer do I have to hide behind my brother and not do anything. Now, I can act for myself!

"Okay," Kenneth repeated, smiling, looking so well layered with the blankets covered over him. "But, still, you have to remember, when it comes down to it, I'll still die for you. I still care about you. You're the only one I cared about in the past," Kenneth said, letting out his childhood thoughts out, giving both boys some insight.

Daniel widened his wet eyes as lines of wet rivers streamed down, seeming enough to create an ocean. He had never realized his brother had felt that way about him. Kenneth had never told him in his fourteen years of life that he had cared about him so much. All throughout his life, Kenneth felt belittled and lowered to such a level that he believed he was a weak person who couldn't make the smallest difference in the world, and that he had to be protected by this guardian angel that was there for that reason and that reason only – to protect. Now, I see… Daniel realized. "Die for me?" Daniel muttered, his steady voice returning. "Not if I beat you to it," he said, chuckling slightly, clearing his tears that slowly dried away from his face and into the darkness surrounding them like a transparent barrier.

Kenneth returned the good gesture, and he closed his eyes in mutual respect for his brother, something Daniel hadn't realized he had been looking for all along. "I see," Kenneth said, resting his eyes now, concluding the talk that would impact their whole lives from now on.

Daniel smiled and closed his eyes as well, taking him away shortly from the world he knew as reality, the kind of break he needed right now to think. As the last tear strolled down his face, he wiped it away softly, as if it were a feather, carrying the tear away with his finger, symbolizing the end of his sadness and despair for now. He let out a small, shy smile that would've sunk into anyone's eyes.

PoVS

"Got it!" Zack's voice echoed through the labyrinth halls. His loud, hyperactive voice could've reached ears paying close attention miles away.

"Hey!" a voice yelled out after him. "Give that back!" Madasora cried out, his tension rising. Zack ran past quickly with the fastest footwork he could use, almost running over Derek as the Shadow Minor moved out of the way barely, just in time to avoid the runaway train known as Zack.

Zack rushed past with a mischievous snickering and a prank smile on his face. He quickly ran past and turned at the end of the hall, his click-clack slippers sliding against the plaster ground, and then resuming their loud pacing through the hall. He was pretty confident that he was going to escape, believing that he was so much better than Madasora even after he got his hat handed to him on a silver plate.

Seconds later, Madasora followed, his feet sliding just like the Wind Minor had done. He had an angry expression on his face as he ran through the hallway unsteadily, missing one of his wooden slippers. He limped across the corridor, and turned the corner in a rigorous, idiotic search for his lost footwear.

Keeping to the view of the hallway where both scenes of the frantic running took place, zooming upward, you would find a seventeen year old Wind Minor balancing himself on the ceiling by equalizing the air around him to defy gravity. He had a wide, showy snicker that showed his white, strong teeth. His eyes were shut in mischievousness. In one hand, he held the plaster material that was dusty against the dark ceiling, and in the other hand was the wooden Geta slipper, his fingers barely holding on to the surface of the ceiling behind his back. He snickered once more as he let go of his hold on the surrounding air and dropped back down on the floor on his feet, pretending to look he was all cool and clever. His feet made a loud click as they hit the floor, and his back slumped downward, pulling back up immediately as he felt the energy take apart from him.

He gave another showy smirk as he threw the slipper slightly into the air, only to catch it a second later with the same hand. "Ha," he scoffed at the Council he believed was so much lower than him. He took another showy smirk as he couldn't help but take too much pride in what he had just done.

Behind him, a little behind his feet raised slowly a hand that seemed to come from the floor like a ghost's arm. It seemed to come from a lightly traced portal of ebony black, and grew like the arm was growing it itself. Zack didn't notice a thing, and kept laughing and snickering to himself about how great he was. The hand opened wide, showings its palm and rising up until the elbow.

Zack snickered as he said his final words of pride. "Who's the one without the cool clothes now? Eh?" he laughed, his eyes still shut as if not wanting to be opened. He just couldn't stop laughing indistinctively and lightly. As if on cue, the arm behind him took him suddenly by the foreleg, the sudden feeling of touch scaring the spirit out of Zack. The Wind Minor opened his eyes widely, opening his mouth in shock. The creepy feeling of a hand on his foreleg soon consumed him to a scare until it began to pull him down. He let out a despaired cry as he felt his foot sink into the plaster ground unnaturally. He was soon completely pulled in, and another hand came from the floor and cuffed his other leg, then taking him down like the plaster was made of quicksand. He was pulled down swiftly, until only his waist up remained and he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

"What the hell?!" he cried out, now in despair, falling for an obvious trap. His eyes went comical and huge, pale and circled and his mouth was wide open in shock, his expression looking completely abnormal.

Adding even more to his current shock and fear, a few feet in front of him rose a head of hair, then a face, a neck, a shoulder with arms and a body, and then finally legs and feet. The person seemed to climb out slowly with his hair first through a portal of traced darkness and shadow, and as he rose like he was coming out of the dark ocean waters, Zack continued to scream even more in fear, his voice loud and completely freaked out. He felt as if he were about to faint right then and there.

"Do you ever shut up?" Derek said as he stood in a comfortable position in front of Zack, who was still putting his comical mask on, not amusing to the Shadow Minor at all. Derek sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Zack put a blank expression on his face and there was total silence for a minute, which bothered Derek and seemed abnormal. Derek opened his eyes again, his interest piqued as to why Zack was being so quiet all of sudden. For a minute, he locked stares with Zack, the Wind Minor looking completely calm for a second. Derek sighed again as he found the chance to say something. "You're seventeen years old and the same age as me, yet you act ten years younger than you really are," Derek explained.

Zack blinked twice, his expression completely blank. Then, he let out a ear piercing scream of fear as he realized yet again that half his body was lost in some other dimension who knows where. He screamed loudly, his hands gripping the plaster floor for support, trying to pull himself out of the prison locking his legs, the scream so loud and humorous in intensity that it was like a huge, blood-curdling ear piercing yell that rang in Derek's ears, seeming to last for the rest of his life.

PoVS

The sun hung bright in the sky with the evaporating morning dew. Trees surrounded Mark from far away and the grass whistled with the wind ever so slightly, tickling Mark's feet. Surrounding him even more closely were clay sculpture of himself, come to life and ready to fight. They had been made for training, and he purposely made at least fifty of them to gang up on him.

The hot sun tickled the back of Mark's head, and he looked comfortable and ready in his new clothes. Unique in footwear, he had none, forced to walk barefoot amongst the ground at all times. The cold soil and grass crunched and felt cooling to his hot, sweating feet. The dirt caked between his toes and soles, but he had become used to it. He donned a karate style clothing like fro ma dojo, all brown-grayish, his forelimbs wrapped in white bandages, and this upper chest as well.

A strong, humid gust of wind blew by, and as if initiating the start of the self training session, the sculptures came to life and raced towards Mark with blinding speed. Lots of things flashed differently in front of Mark's quick wandering eyes. A somewhat nervous bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, the hot sun glistening off the perspiration, heating his tanned skinned comfortably. Three clones appeared at Mark's feet, sending a punch toward them. Mark jumped away, dodging a huge tower of dust and exploding rock from a punching trio. He swept away a round sweat drop and shifted his feet, putting himself in a readied position to fight. Other sculptures began to appear one after another, attempting different attacks but all missing thanks to Mark's acrobatic sense of body movement.

The sculptures continued to fling themselves at him, as if hating him for creating them.Mark dodged expertly, his eyes scanning quickly at times to make sure if there were any coming from the corners. I used to think… Mark thought as he moved his body around to dodge a round of punches from different directions. I used to think mastering the tai arts was all I needed in life. Mark ducked to make a roundhouse kick miss. It was all I wanted to do… Mark realized.

The Earth Minor jumped away at the sight of a sweep kick, high jump kicking a sculpture and breaking its head into tiny pebbles and large stones. But I find that now… now as time passes on and on, there are more things that come and present their importance to me that are necessary to live life, and other things as well. Mark remembered what Kanadou had said to him that made him realize something; something that created the only reason Mark won that fight.

"You think you can just win this fight by relying on physical force only?" Kanadou had told Mark with his power representing robes fluttering in the light wind, his mask concealing his expression. "If so, you're going to die within seconds when you face White Cloak."

Mark sighed as he sensed about ten or fifteen of clones jumping at him with amazing speed. He held up his fist, gathering his energy that poured into his hands like orange juice from a pitcher at breakfast spilling the icy, inviting liquid onto the glistening glass cup that shone brightly like a star in the sun. Once he felt like he had enough, Mark let out his battle cry and slammed his fist right into the ground, the impact so great that it sent a rambling, visible earthquake all around. Pieces of the ground tilted into rocks and broke away, protruding off the dirt like its own kind of horn or defense. The raging dirt rocks continued to pop from the ground by tilting with great magnitude, like a backwards edition of a domino effect. Mark held his stance steady in the center of the rising ground, his fist still locked into the ground, pouring even more energy out as if the pitcher of energy had shattered.

The rocks tripped, stabbed and did so many other things to the surrounding sculptures, taking away about half of them and making them into nothing but dirt and flint. Now that I know my life isn't just fighting… I feel actually empty, less complete. I thought I found the meaning of my life, but I guess for me, there is none. As he finished his thought, the earthquake began to settle back into its normal condition as flat ground, finally have taken all of the clones' lives. Now, Mark waited for what was next in the hot blazing sun, his perspiration soon taking over his face, his upper back soaked with sweat, showing on his karate-style clothes.