Again, all reviews are very much appreciated, so thank you all.
This chapter will have some more revelations, and conflict, and other stuff...it may seem a bit slow though.
And, one thing, I'm trying to give each person some equal dialogue, but I don't think it works out too well. So to the overshadowed characters-Kenny, Ian, Max, Rei- I'll try to have them vocalize a bit more.
Last bit: I'll have to go through the long, winded description of the mansion; not 'have to', more like 'want to'. I can't just say "It covered lots of ground and had tons of rooms." So slow beginning.
Warning: Language may be a factor
I know I always say that, then there really is no strong language that would merit a warning, but it's a just in case thing
Part 04
Spacious.
Sprawling.
Excessive.
Reaaally big, in Tyson's own words.
These describe the mansion where the two Hiwatari males reside. After the long trek up the drive, one is met with the tall, imposing doors that seem more fitting for a palace than a private estate. Dark oak inlaid with metal frames and supports lining them are set beneath a granite archway. The fashion resembles an old Gothic cathedral, commonly found in England and France.
Wide steps lead to said archway, cold stone that looks as though it was cut from a mountain face; rough, and unpolished. On the double doors, there were two handles, one on each door, yet only one held the slot for the key.
When that door was unlocked, the cache that jutted out slightly caught the opposite one, achieving the desired affect of both swinging in to the house and admitting guests as one.
Stepping inside the darkened foyer, it would take one seconds to adjust to the sudden loss of bright outside light. Once the vision returned, the deep marble floor was acknowledged; a common reaction was to jump from it, in fear of marring it with dirty shoe prints.
Unfortunately for the guest, the other option was to land on the glossy hardwood floor, which reflected their surprised face and seemed to hold their gaze to it. One would glance shiftily around, searching perhaps, for the owner of the house to appear and berate them for their role in dirtying the place, and when they were not even in the residence, really.
After this show-stopping incident, there are options as to where to turn to next: left, along which a large room is seen, the wide doorway lining the corridor for a matter of meters. Inside there is mostly hard, wooden furniture, the occasional ottoman placed around the room. The most comfortable-looking seat to rest is a plain black chesterfield covered in thin material.
The room itself was large, and at the far end there was another doorway, smaller than the entranceway, leading to a lowered room. Inside, the walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings. No abstract or anything of the sort; just the usual landscape scenes accompanied by the odd wildlife. All of the paintings were of Russian inspiration.
Back in the main hall, the corridor continued almost farther than the eye could see. The hardwood ended abruptly and gave way to a thick black carpet that ran along the length of the hall, lining the outside wall of the great room and art room. There the hall stopped, leaving two options: left to the facilities and kitchen, or right to the dining hall, lounge, one of Voltaire's private offices, and these circled around to the front foyer again, where on the right it ended with a sunken room with a piano and fireplace in it.
Set slightly to the right of the hall was a large sweeping staircase. The steps were white marble, random black jets shooting through them, looking like the solar system upside down; with the roles of shooting stars and black space reversed. A polished railing on the left followed the curve of the stairs, and on the right was the wall, where the staircase met and drew support from.
At the top of the stairs was the same black carpet as was found downstairs. Trailing to the left was the continuing railing, going along until it met the wall a few meters down. Following the railing, one came upon another washroom, this time a full bath, with sink, shower/bath combination, toilet, and linen closet.
Next door was a larger closet, full of towels, robes, brushes, etc. At a respectable distance from the washcloset was a set of double doors that opened into a similar lounge as the downstairs one, this one including a bar and more comfortable siting area. There was a fireplace in the far corner, next to the heavy drapes that disguised the windows and sliding doors that opened onto a wide balcony that showed off the view of the land and surrounding towns, lights barely seen in the distance.
Voltaire had another study with a door connecting it to the lounge room. On the other side of his office, now nearing the top of the stairs again, was his private library and accounts room. There was then a fair distance between said library and the next room, which was what most people would call a game room, but to the Hiwatari's it was merely an 'entertainment room', and contained a stereo system and black TV resting in a black stand with glass covers.
In this room, the furniture was more relaxed; black leather couches scattered, an armchair here and there, and where the wall curved in another fireplace was fitted.
Next to this room was a set of deep brown wood doors with ornate silver handles. When opened, the ballroom, located on the first floor, was revealed. The doors on the second floor provided a balcony upon which one could survey the room below: the raised orchestra stage, the elaborate red and black decorations that covered the otherwise cream marble floor. The true design could only be seen from above, namely from the balcony. A smaller, less obvious flight of spiral stairs were set at the corner of the balcony, allowing access to the room underneath.
Another study, this one for Kai's use, or anyone else who may visit the estate–so, no one– styled in the usual fashion of dark colours. There was then a clutter of doors grouped near each other at the end of the hallway; these were spare rooms, six in all, with two full washrooms and another closet.
Access to the third floor, where Kai and Voltaire's rooms were, was less noticeable. It was only by entering the main library on the second floor and finding the somewhat concealed stairs that led up and left and stood at the end of the twisting hallway of the third floor.
For most, the ground floor is the largest, the size of each floor steadily decreasing the higher one travelled. In the Hiwatari manor, the opposite was true. While each floor was large, the third was undoubtedly the most spacious, second to none excepting the basement.
It was full of corridors that twisted and wound their way past doors and windows, numerous paintings lining the walls, these more personal than the ones on display downstairs. Voltaire and Kai's room were far from each other; Kai's located in the north wing, and Voltaire's far in the south wing.
Separating their rooms was an assortment of lounges rooms, libraries, more spare bedrooms, washrooms, etc. There were portraits of Kai's great-great-grandparents, his great-grandparents and of course, his parents. These pictures were scattered all around the mansion, to remind Kai of the greatness he had come from and who was expecting him to carry on the family name.
The exception was the pictures of his parents. These were put up to show him what happens to people who are a burden; a threat to the Hiwatari name. Voltaire refused the offer of any portraits of himself to be put up, for reasons unknown, and he had declared that Kai was not yet worthy.
That was the Hiwatari manor, inside and out.
"There's another room back there?" Came the incredulous cry from Tyson. He rocketed over to where Max stood, staring in silence at the ballroom he had found on the first floor.
It had been a kind of chaos when they had entered the stately home. Tyson, Max, and Ian had sped around the first floor, stopping to gawk at every room, chair, and light they came upon. Kai was rather thankful that Kenny, being the most controlled out of the younger teens, was quietly surveying everything with polite scrutiny.
Bryan, Spencer, and Rei had wandered off slowly to examine the place on their own, leaving Kai sitting on the third-last step on the stairs, Tala nearby eyeing him out of the corner of his eye.
So this is Kai's place, hmm? Tala thought to himself as he feigned interest in the hall table that sat in front of him. He doesn't strike me as the type of person that would put much worth into something this...ostentatious. Then again, Voltaire does...
"So what's up on the second floor of this place anyways Kai?" Rei asked as he came out of the living room with Bryan and Spencer in tow. Kai was about to answer when Tyson skidded to a halt in front of him.
"There's an upstairs too?" He asked with wide eyes. Tala almost smiled to himself as he heard Kai sigh nearly imperceptibly.
"The stairs do have a purpose, you know," Kai said, standing up from where he was seated. He wordlessly removed himself from their line of flight, and Tyson went racing up, Max again behind him. Kai waited until the others had filed up behind them, Ian complaining about not yet seeing the first floor in its entirety, before stepping to the bottom.
Kai stopped at the table where Tala recently stood and picked up the van keys that Spencer had lain down on the surface. Tala watched in silence as Kai picked them up then turned to the front door.
"Not going to leave us here, are you?" He asked with a little smirk. Kai stopped and faced him, brows creased ever so slightly.
"Meaning...?"
"Meaning that this isn't really your house, and you're just going to leave us here to be the next meal for some crazed old man who thinks he's Dracula, and no way for us to escape," came the redhead's reply. Kai stared at Tala for a moment, as though thinking about what he'd said. Then he shook his head slowly and turned back to the entrance.
"Bryan was right; you are demented," Tala heard him mutter as he walked. Out, shutting the door firmly behind him. Tala smiled and nodded, not really listening, and once he'd figured out he had been insulted, he huffed indignantly before stomping up the stairs to join the others.
Reaching the top of the staircase, after much grumbling about the mountain he'd just scaled, he paused at the top, glancing left and right to try to determine where the rest of the group had got to. He took in the many doors and other halls leading off and wrapping around the mansion. It was darker up here, the lights lining the walls either dim or burnt out.
He moved forward some steps, ahead into the darkness that swathed the hall and his senses. He suddenly saw in front of him a darkness that was...alive. He stared at it in silence, trying to see what it was he was looking at. It was black, but there was red in there...and did he see blue?
It was beautiful, in its bright darkness; a vibrant shadow. He stepped closer, lost in the spellbinding vision. Black and red, with the specks of blue were mixed together, and he halted, and focussed his eyes, trying to regain that perfect vision of beauty. What was this, that was so absolute in its' assured grace and...prettiness? Tala's eyes relaxed as they stared in blissful peace.
The colours were suddenly distorted, pushing against each other and cancelling one another out; he was dimly aware of the soft cry of protest that flew from his lips as the entire apparition vanished. He was left staring at a black surface, that did not show colours or reflect any beauty.
Tala was snapped back to reality when he heard a derisive snort to his left. Turning his head reluctantly away from where he had seen the lovely thing, he saw Kai leaning against the wall, hand playing with the ugly plain black space that had replaced what he'd been adoring moments before.
"I can't believe you're that obsessed with your looks," he said, an eyebrow raised in a sarcastic manner. Tala frowned at the comment.
"What? Why do you say that?"
"...You've been staring in a mirror for the past five minute," Kai pointed out, "and you actually cried when I covered it up."
"What mirror? I wasn't staring in any mirr–" Tala shut up when Kai pulled on the edge of the black shape and suddenly that wonderful vision appeared, just as before: black, red, and blue all together, swirling in harmony and being the best damn mix of colours he had ever seen.
The Evil Thing happened again, and Tala was left staring at the black and a smirking Kai.
"Close your mouth; I don't want any saliva on the floor," Kai announced as he turned and went left down the hall. Mentally wondering just what the heck Kai was going on about, Tala faced the blackness again. He pressed his face up close and glared at it, cursing it for hiding what he wanted to see. There was a black box, and he saw that it was hanging on the wall. And not magically floating as he'd thought.
Running his hand up the left side, he felt hinges, and he tugged on the surface. It opened, just like when Kai had done it, and he finally saw and understood. It was a three-faced mirror, with the two doors on the side opening when Tala did so. Again the object of his desire was exposed, and he sighed happily at his reflection.
He truly was a beautiful person.
Leaning back and shutting the mirror doors, he hummed happily as he waltzed off down the hall, following Kai's path in a happy daze.
The group had made their way to the large lounge room with the balcony overlooking the land. Tyson was busy imitating the hummingbird, flitting all over the room in search of nectar, or in his case, shiny things, much like a crow. Max was busy outside, running from one end of the ledge to the other, marvelling at the expanse and making wild claims.
"I can see my house from up here!"
"That's a plane, Max," the ever-so patient Kenny was there to remind him. "And it's about 30,000 feet in the air."
"Are you saying that my house can't be 30,000 feet in the air, Kenny?"
"Well, it is basically impossible, and so judging by–"
"What, you're racist now?"
"How–what– I'm not racist!"
"Oh sure, the dumb blond American makes no sense, and all he does is go on about stupid things. Let's all laugh at him because he won't understand our 'facts' and 'judging by's."
"Max! I–I never said–"
"Aww! Who loves ya buddy? I could never get mad at you! Give me a hug!" Max demanded, as he began to pursue the desperate Kenny around the balcony.
What children, Bryan thought to himself. He was presently standing in the doorway of the balcony and room. Spencer sat in a black armchair and studied the room with interest. Ian had crossed his arms across his chest tightly, his eyes darting around the room as he pressed himself against the unlit fireplace. He obviously didn't trust himself to have free reign around this expensive-looking room.
Rei was keeping a watchful eye on the hyper Tyson; no telling how many things he would break/blow up/disintegrate if he was left unattended. Besides his self-appointed Tyson-watching, Rei occasionally checked out the room and the Kai-statue that had appeared next to the door that led from the hall.
Why didn't he tell any of us about how he lived? Rei wondered as he eyed Kai, who was watching everybody else with a hint of distant amusement.
Maybe he thought we would treat him differently if we knew about his wealth and such. Rei thought on it, and decided that he may have kept something like this hidden for some personal reasons as well. He couldn't blame Kai; not that he even considered it, because all people have a right to keep such matters to themselves.
Besides, Rei reasoned, we all know now, and no harm was done. Even Kai seems a bit relieved that he told us...although he does look a bit on edge about something.
The door opened suddenly, admitting a harried-looking Tala. When he saw that everybody was present, he sighed and leaned back against the now-closed door.
"You could have said where you were going," he said to Kai, turning to glare at the uninterested male. "Instead of making me run all over this place. Why is it so big anyways? Compensating for something, are we?"
Kai ignored Tala's remark except for the slight twitch in his jaw. Personally he'd always wondered that himself: why did rich people find it so necessary to flaunt their wealth? Seeing the large mansions and the expensive cars, it was like smacking anyone less fortunate upside the head and calling, "Look at all that I have and you don't! See my vast estate sprawling across the lands and watch how fast my cars can cover all this terrain!"
All Kai really wanted was a place of his own. He didn't need all the luxuries and the care; he needed plumbing, and electricity, and he could even go without heat, because Kai is not someone who gets cold.
He couldn't help but wonder and worry. Nobody had yet reacted in a negative way, nor had they questioned everything they saw or learned about.
Yet.
"So, what, Voltaire needs to remind the world of how rich he is?" Bryan spoke up from the doorway. Kai was startled a bit by this sudden comment, and he cast his mind back to recall what Tala had said. He rolled his eyes when he remembered.
"Something like that," he answered, nodding. "Tell you the truth, I'm never really in half these rooms, and he doesn't use them much either. Only if he has business partners over or something; other than that it's just the two of us keeping our distance."
"...That sounds so depressing," Rei couldn't stop himself from saying. When the rest of his friends turned to him, he elaborated.
"I mean, there's just two of you, and you live in this huge place, and you don't even try to see each other. That's not what a family is like; it's not how one should behave."
Kai stared in silence. That was what made a family? Well, he could never have that. It was just Voltaire and himself, together. They'd never been bothered by attempting to bond or grow closer. The only thing they felt for each other was a mutual loathing. Kai: because of what Voltaire had done to his parents, and Voltaire: because Kai was an immense disappointment to the Hiwatari name.
"Well...we don't," he pointed out. "Besides, we're not a real family. A man and his grandson does not constitute a family."
"What do you think is a family then?" Spencer asked from his chair. Kai glanced at him before returning his gaze to the floor.
That was an easy one. A family is a support group; all your loved ones being there for you, coming together whenever you need them. A family is a father, mother, a child or more, maybe a dog, or a goldfish that is considered the family fish, and it has one of the stereotypical names like Buddy...or Bluey...or...whatever else is a fish name, Irwin perhaps, or Myrtle.
A family is the one thing that can be relied upon at all times : times of trial, suffering, times of joy and pride.
A family is love.
Since Kai had already ascertained that he could not have love, especially not from someone like Voltaire, he pushed back the ideals and hopes of family living, and settled for malcontent and an acceptable existence. It didn't bother him. Not like it used to.
Kai would have answered the thoughts he had, but no, that was wrong. You don't tell people these kinds of things; what you long for, what you believe in, because that will just lead to it being used against you in the future, or dug up when you are living at your highest point in life, the climax as it were.
Then your foolish admissions came back to haunt you, and everyone found out what kind of person you had been, and they used it against you. The ridicule that results is only a way of reminding you how stupid you used to be, and still are for allowing such trifling matters affect you so much.
So these things, your beliefs and ideals...
You just don't tell people.
Instead of responding the honest way, the truthful way, the way he wanted to be able to let down his guard for these people, he answered with a different answer.
"Pointless," he finally lied in reply to Spencer's question. They thought in silence about how he'd answered, but before they could question him as he so hated, Kai had moved to the door and pushed Tala away from it. He opened the door and headed for the stairs that led up to the top floor.
Behind him Kai could hear muted conversation, before the door widely opened to allow the rest to leave. They followed Kai, some talking, some skipping enthusiastically, or shuddering in fear of breaking something, in Ian's case.
As he strode down the hall, Kai noted that his anxiety was increasing. He hadn't had anybody over before, and although they couldn't guess it, he had no idea how to treat them. Plus with the added factor that Voltaire could be home at any given time did nothing for helping him relax.
True, Voltaire had said not to expect him until late, but meetings and appointments had a way of being cut short, or cancelled and rescheduled.
Kai had successfully moved the van to the service garage that was set apart from the mansion. He knew there was no way Voltaire would be venturing in there; he'd only had it built in the event something happened to one of his cars, and he could not be bothered with talking the car –or having it taken– to the auto repair shop.
Even if Voltaire came home earlier than planned, he'd be hard out finding out that Kai had some guests over. All of their shoes and coats and other outerwear had been disposed of in the closet in the front; they would all be upstairs, and there was no way their sound could travel down to the older man floors below them. He felt that the bases were pretty much covered.
But...
That nagging feeling, the one that always hints at the back of the mind, was making itself known to Kai. He found it annoying that he could not even have people over without worrying about whether or not Voltaire would come, send them off, and then proceed to kill him.
Not that Voltaire was necessarily evil or violent man by nature. He just sometimes had all kinds of rage, and Kai just sometimes happened to be in the way; a perfect target. Voltaire had hit Kai every now and then; afterwards he would look disgusted, either with himself for sinking so low or with Kai for bleeding and dirtying the house.
Kai had never been subjected to life-threatening injuries however, a fact he found quite surprising. Many successful businessmen lost their sanity to stress and the pressure of the fast-paced workforce, and some would turn to criminal matters to resolve their problems. Abuse, corrupt practices, neglect, suicide, etc,. Were all rather common cases, especially in the Russian business industry. It was said to be the most competitive out of all of the other country's businesses.
At the hand of Voltaire, Kai had suffered a few black eyes, bruising, bloody mouth or nose; and the worst was probably when he was around nine years of age, when Voltaire had angrily come home after losing the contract he required to continue operating in both Japan and Russia, as well as expanding to Europe. Kai had received a sprained wrist that day, nothing that the household physician couldn't take care of.
He realized that he was in the room at the foot of the stairs that led up to the third floor. He could hear the others still talking amongst themselves, exploring the large library that held the way up.
Kenny seemed lost in a dream world as he moved from shelf to shelf, positively brimming with happiness and gushing at the vast extent of knowledge one could gain from reading one volume alone from this library. Tyson, Max, and Ian seemed less than impressed; obviously they weren't big on literature. Shame.
"Kaiiiiii," Tyson whined loudly from where he leaned against a shelf containing books about the Hiwatari ancestry, "where's your room? I want to see it."
"Yeah!" Both Ian and Max agreed. Anyplace was better than this stuffy old room. Tala sighed and stretched his arms behind his head. He hated being inside for so long; he felt cramped and closed in.
"Well, let's get this over with. We'll take a look at his pink room and then that will be enough for my lifetime," Bryan promised. Kai raised an eyebrow but said nothing. His room was not pink. So he had one pink throw pillow...at least he used to until Voltaire had seen it, called it "gay" and thrown it out, declaring that the throw pillow was being out to good use by being thrown out.
Kai wordlessly motioned to the stairs; Tyson let out a whoop of relief at being able to move again and see more of this place. Namely Kai's room. The others follow at a more leisurely pace, with Kai waiting for all of them to begin climbing the stairs before following. Spencer, who was two steps ahead of Kai, stopped and turned back and looked down at Kai.
"You okay Kai?" He questioned in his soft tone of voice. Kai stared back up, puzzled as to what Spencer meant, and waited for the blond boy to explain.
"You just seem really on edge, and you have been since we came in. I was just wondering if you're all right."
Ha no chance, Kai thought to himself. I'm just having a mental panic attack trying to figure out how I can prevent any chance meetings between you and Voltaire.
"Fine," he said, and pointedly took a step up to encourage Spencer into moving. He watched Kai carefully for another moment, before nodding, obviously unconvinced, and continuing his ascent.
Already Kai could hear loud voices exclaiming from the inner depths of the third floor. Spencer stepped out into the corridor, Kai close behind. He nodded in the direction of his bedroom from where the voices came.
Upon entering his room, Kai saw that they were all impressed by it. He hated that; whenever he saw how people would react to his wealth, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach, one of guilt. Everyone always seemed to envy him, although they would not say so, because envy is a sin, so it is preferred to allow said envy to fester and ride it out.
Ian had taken refuge on the bed, figuring that it would be hard to damage in any way. Bryan was staring in an unaffected way out of the windows, more leaning than sitting on one of the window seats. Tyson was squinting up at a picture on the tall dresser, Max hovering nearby as he watched. Kenny had been drawn like a magnet to metal to Kai's own collection of books.
Tala made his way over to Bryan and copied his pose. He moved forward slightly and leaned his head against the cool glass. Spencer and Rei were simply wandering about; all were under the watchful eye of Kai. He remained silent until he saw Tyson reaching for a small black metal box, lid slightly open, as though the contents inside, whatever they may be, had tried to escape.
Kai saw Tyson about to take the box and open it; in an instant he was across the room and pulling it out of his reach. Kai slammed the lid shut and took the matching key from the dresser and locked it safely. He carried it over to his wardrobe and set it on top. The key was placed in his pocket for safe keeping.
"What was that all about?" Tyson was the first to ask, giving Kai a strange look. Kai faced them and realized they were all watching him.
"That's private, Tyson," Rei said before Kai could answer. "Just because we're in here doesn't give us the right to pry into every personal thing of Kai's."
"It's like if Kai was in your house and he read your diary," Bryan said from where he was perched. "Not that anyone could care less about your droll little existence, that is."
"I am not a troll, and I don't keep a diary," Tyson huffed indignantly. Max laughed from where he was sitting on the small couch.
"I see you writing in it all the time, Tyson," he grinned. "It's that little yellow book, no? The one where when you write in it you talk to yourself as you write." Tyson glared at max for sharing that. In his experience, diaries were widely thought to be used by the female gender, thus him owning a yellow one with the occasional duck printed in it.
"Tala knows all about yellow, don't you Tala?" Ian called over with a smarmy smirk. Tala shot him a warning glance and was about to answer when Bryan spoke up.
"Someone's driving up."
Kai felt himself stiffen, then angrily chided himself. He knew it was his grandfather; but he shouldn't be afraid of him. He could have people over and not fret about whether or not he would be disciplined in any way.
Spencer caught his eye and met Kai's eyes. Asking if he was all right. Kai broke the contact and turned a frown to the floor. Spencer sighed to himself; something was bothering his normally unaffected friend. And he had an inkling it had something to do with whoever was coming up the drive.
Tala watched the exchange go on between Kai and Spencer, and he also noticed the change in Kai's demeanour. His shoulders were set back and his face impassive once more. His arms, which had been hanging at his sides, were abruptly brought up to cross themselves in front of him.
"Is it your grandfather Kai?" Rei asked from across the room. Kai only nodded, his face now shadowed slightly, occurring when he tilted his head downwards. There was a silence, before Tyson spoke up.
"So should we go meet him now, or what?" Tyson asked. The rest were kept quiet, waiting for Kai's answer.
"He doesn't really like it when I have someone over without him knowing about it," Kai said. "Just wait up here and then you can leave once he's started working again."
"If we'd known you'd get in trouble for this, having us over, we wouldn't have come in the first place," Kenny said, brow creasing with worry. To him, getting in trouble and displeasing your parents was the worst thing. He still had a lot of growing up to do.
Kai shrugged off the smaller boy's concern. He didn't think Voltaire would be too upset. Then again, it all depended on the reason he had arrived home so early.
When meetings were cancelled, he often was in a bad mood for having wasted his time by travelling to the meeting point, only to find out there was no point, and having to waste more time driving all the way back. He still abided by the businessman's rule "Time is Money."
If something had happened that did not favour himself or his company, Voltaire would angrily return home, slamming his way and muttering as he rifled through his numerous studies for something that could change the turn of events.
When he was mad like this, Kai could hear him loudly shut the front door; he would then make his way up to Kai's room to find and unload on Kai. Basically he would go to complain and all-around bitch about the complete inept idiots he was forced to work with.
All Kai would have to endure on those days were loud, long rants that eventually calmed Voltaire down. There would be the odd slap, if Kai didn't appear sympathetic enough, or if Voltaire had been unable to find him when and where he needed him.
Today Kai hoped against hope that his grandfather had left the office voluntarily and would not come storming up to his room. All he would find was an anxious Kai and eight others with him.
Tala was a bit nervous; not for himself, but for Kai. On the few occasions he had met Voltaire, he hadn't gotten the best impression. He didn't sem to be an understanding kind of man, or too eager to forgive and forget. He knew though, that his worry was most likely wasted on Kai; he was not the type to allow himself to be pushed around by his grandfather.
Spencer was still watching Kai. He had always been a good reader of body language, and he could tell right away that Kai was not pleased about having his grandfather come home, especially when he had guests over. He only hoped that his friend wouldn't be in too much trouble, because he'd feel guilty about bringing it upon him.
Ian squeezed the blanket, in nervous anticipation. He'd never liked Voltaire, from the moment he'd first met him in the orphanage in Russia. He was always cold and commanding; his attitude loudly saying that he will take no nonsense from anybody. Least of all his only heir, or so Ian supposed. He sighed to himself and again wished that he would not have to see Voltaire today.
Bryan was unconcerned. As far as he cared, if he had to see Voltaire today, fine. If he had to suck up to him and act like a grateful orphan, too bad, He had to do that once a year at the Christmas get-together already, and that was one time too many. Judging by the way Kai was acting though, if Voltaire came up and gave him a hard time...well, Bryan might just be inclined to push Voltaire down a flight of stairs.
Never having met Kai's grandfather before, Rei was curious. He'd heard about the man before; one would have to reside under a rock not to have learned about his business-world takeovers. He'd always thought a high-powered man like that would be one of two things: power-hungry and vicious, or a family man that works hard for his family. Taking into account the fact that Kai didn't seem relaxed gave weight to his first guess. He'd have to wait and see.
Tyson couldn't understand the tension that seemed to be coursing through the room. If it was his grandpa that was home, then he'd be fine with that. He knew also, that his grandpa would not mind if he had friends over; in fact, Tyson would worry if he had friends over and Grandpa was present. He guessed that what with being a big name in the business world, Kai's grandfather didn't have time to be much of a grandfather.
Max didn't enjoy the uncomfortable silence. He liked things loud and fun; not quiet and sombre as it seemed to be now. He was usually the one who livened things up, with his knack for bad jokes and wrongly-timed attempts at humour. He sensed that this was one of those serious tomes, so he stopped himself from acting like his usual self.
Kenny knew Kai didn't like his grandfather by the way he was acting now. At least before they'd learned of his car coming up to the house, Kai had been vocal, slightly more so than he usually was. Now he was tight-lipped and stiff. It was proven, with the help of many statistics and gathered facts and research, that one who acts reserved very suddenly, much like Kai was, had an issue with whatever the reason they were suddenly quiet. Kenny knew all about the psychological studies done and how they worked, but faced with this situation, a real live bit, he was as lost as Tyson in algebra class.
Real life experience came from living, not reading about them on the Internet.
The front door slammed, jolting them all into a sudden awareness. Between the shifty glances cast his way, Kai knew they were talking in low voices. Probably about what a tyrant he was, taking so obviously after Voltaire. And were any of them still thinking about that whole incident with the box? He'd ripped it away so protectively that he knew if he'd seen someone act like that, he'd want to know what brought on such a reaction.
He could never tell or show them the contents of the box; they were too painful even for him to think about, let alone talk about or share them with anyone else. What was inside...something that hurt him internally when he so much as looked at the container they were held in. Yet every year, in this month, he would take it out, and open it, and unearth all those memories that he hated to relive.
So why did he do it to himself? Was it for his own gain, a way of saying 'what does not break us makes us stronger'? Maybe he was a masochist of the emotional kind; he enjoyed causing pain to himself in his mind. No.
That was what sick, deprived people did to themselves, and Kai was not sick or deprived. He was just raised by a man of those qualities, thus he himself turned out twisted and not a little bit disturbed. That was just Voltaire's way of teaching Kai to grow up. Other parents taught love, and support, and endless care. Well, you know what they say.
Different strokes for different folks.
Kai realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts yet again, and he forcibly brought himself back to reality. He straightened up once he decided he would go downstairs under the pretense of needing something, and he could meet Voltaire and keep him away from his room and who was inside.
"I'll be back. Stay here," he added when he saw Tala move forward, as though to offer advice or ask something. Spencer nodded as a way of replying for the collective group.
"We'll be here."
Voltaire angrily paced his study on the first floor. Pass the glossy large desk, walk to the end of the carpet, face the wall, turn, back past the desk, stopping when the hearth of the fireplace is met, then turning to repeat.
Why in the hell did he continue to do business with such...idiots? He'd driven for nearly three hours to attend a meeting of the Board of Commerce. They had insisted it was urgent, necessary, and his presence was required. They were going to discuss the whole matter of Voltaire's new decision to expand into Europe. Specifically Germany and England. That was where the power and money could be made.
Once again, no. They had decided that it would not prove fruitful to the company to waste time and energy in doing so. Voltaire had argued and debated endlessly, stating that it was his company, his lifelong work that had made all of them so successful, his own.
If only he hadn't agreed to the partnership with that Balkov fool. He seemed to believe that Voltaire, in his old age, was not nearly as competent or efficient as he once was, and the decisions he made were harmful to the company.
Well, when the contract terminated at the end of the year, Voltaire was in no way going to renew his terms of business. When he was questioned, or his instincts wondered about and he himself not trusted, Voltaire took his revenge. He had so far avoided reverting to murder as a method of getting back at people; bribes, the occasional threat on one's family...these techniques usually got the message across that Voltaire Hiwatari was not one to be doubted.
Yet here they were, denying him what he wanted for his company. He huffed angrily and continued to curse the meddling men when he stopped. He heard something outside in the hall. Someone walking down the hall, perhaps; probably Kai.
Voltaire left the room, wrenching the door open and staring down the length of the hall. He turned his head to the right and came face to face with Kai.
They stared at one another in silence for some moments, sizing one another up. Voltaire was thinking about the slightly smug look Kai had on his face, while Kai was trying to gauge his grandfather's mood.
Enraged, was the way to describe it accurately. Voltaire had a look of pure fury, his eyes glinting with untold malice. Neither spoke, choosing instead to stare each other down; Voltaire narrowed his eyes and then leaned back against the door and motioned Kai in. Following behind he allowed the door to remain open a crack.
"What have you done with yourself today, Kai? Hmm? Something productive, I hope," Voltaire said as he watched Kai take up a resting spot against the fireplace wall. Kai did not answer, just continued to wait in silence.
He knew Voltaire was mad, and he knew that now that he was in his study he would have to endure a long rant. He inwardly wondered if his grandfather was so angry as to turn violent; he decided that it was not so impossible.
"Would you believe it, Kai? My own company, and they deny me," Voltaire said in a low angry tone. "Everything I do is for the benefit, and positive growth, of not only myself but them, and they feel the need to stop that. Why would they do something like that, Kai?"
Kai remained passively silent, and this served to infuriate Voltaire further. He knew that Kai could not answer his questions, yet the silence was annoying. To act like he did not care, was not interested in the future of the company. His company.
Kai had prepared himself for Voltaire's anger, and he was not disappointed. He knew how the event would carry itself out; Voltaire going on for as long as he needed to vent his anger, Kai pretending as though he really did sympathize, with it ending when Voltaire had done one of two things. Dismissed Kai once he was exhausted from rambling, and they would fall to their respective wings of the house for the evening.
That could happen, or Voltaire could smack Kai around until he felt as though Kai cared, as he should. Once again, following this turn of events they would leave each other alone until their next chance interaction.
With a resounding crack Kai was dealt with a sudden backhand. The force of the hit coupled with Kai's inattentiveness resulted in him losing his balance from where he leaned next to the fireplace, and falling onto the hearth. Ashes and black-tasting dust filled his mouth, the soot covering his hands which had supported him when he landed on them, and being stirred up and stinging Kai's eyes.
Voltaire stood over him, breathing heavily as he stared down at the fallen male. The ring he wore on his right ring finger, with the many diamonds set around the perimeter, had caught Kai's cheek, and ripped the tender skin. From where he stood and Kai crouched, Voltaire could see a fine line of blood beginning to trickle down the right side of Kai's face, the cut extending from just under his right eye to the bridge of his nose.
Kai had been caught off-guard, hence the easy fall at Voltaire's hands. He pushed himself back so he sat on his heels, then slowly straightened to his full height. He faced Voltaire and met his gaze steadily.
Each held their anger in check. Voltaire glared at the line of red that was moving down Kai's face, as though it personally insulted him. Kai made no move to wipe it away; instead he settled for watching his grandfather indifferently. After the silence went on too long for his liking, Kai spoke.
"Are you done?"
Voltaire narrowed his eyes at the insolent tone. He had half a mind to hit Kai again, and again, just to release the rage he felt inside of himself. He knew that he wouldn't though; as much as he would have loved to, abusing his only grandson was not a priority for him.
Only men who were cowards and could not handle the simple pressure that accompanied the working lifestyle would smack children around. Undoubtedly Kai would prevent Voltaire from hitting him too much; a strong youth in his prime versus an aging man whose bark was more powerful than his bite...logically, Kai would inflict more damage than he was dealt.
"Get out," he told Kai then, turning away to seat himself behind his desk. Kai watched as his grandfather began shuffling through papers in the act of searching. Wordlessly he spun on his heel and walked out, shutting the door nbehind him with a tight snap.
Voltaire raised his head and stared at the door through which Kai had just exited. He thought in silence, frowning slightly, then shook his head, sighed, and got back to work. Cursing himself.
Cursing Kai...the one who was so easy to abuse.
Kai went back up the stairs to the second floor, and as he did he passed the small black mirror that Tala had been obsessing with before. He opened the doors to reveal the reflecting surface inside, and glared at what he saw. He had soot all over him, and still it burned in his eyes, leaving them red-rimmed.
All he'd felt was a sharp sting when Voltaire's ring had ragged across his face, yet here was the cut, bleeding steadily. That absolute bastard. He knew Kai was anaemic (1) and he knew very well what that entailed.
Gritting his teeth as he wiped the back of his hand across his face, Kai was annoyed to find it continued to bleed. Normally it didn't pose such a problem, but when he had to go face eight people in his room who would want to know about what happened and why he was bleeding so much from one small cut; complicated questions followed by lying answers would arise.
He supposed he couldn't just leave them in his room, so he resigned himself to the encounter he knew would come and made his way to the second flight of stairs. Situations like these –though few and far apart...all right, never had occurred before– made him wish he had his special kit in another place other than his washroom that was near his bedroom. Ah well.
If wishes were horses, there would be a lot more glue being produced.
The conversations had started after a few minutes had passed between the group once Kai had left to meet his grandfather. Tyson had loudly announced that he could no longer stand the silence, only to be sharply reprimanded by Spencer and Kenny, who reminded him that Voltaire did not know they were there, and his voice at that volume may carry to wherever Voltaire was.
Max had taken it upon himself to distract and keep Tyson quiet by leading him to one of the windows after pulling the heavy curtains back from it to show him the outside view from up there.
Spencer had seated himself on the edge of the bed, at the foot, wearing a look crossed between anxious and nervous, which really had no distinction at all, thereby having him just look pained. He secretly wondered if Kai would be in much trouble if they were found out and hoped he wasn't.
"Think he's going to be mad?" Tala asked Bryan from where they stood next to each other, still by the same window. Bryan shrugged and continued his scrutiny of the landscape.
"He's an anal old bastard; what do you think?" Came the curt reply. Normally anyone would have found this remark to be highly offensive and uncaring, and in truth, it was. Only because it hid the quiet concern that Tala could hear in his voice.
Rei was shifting his weight from right to left hip as they awaited Kai's return. He'd been gone for a little under half an hour. He hoped Voltaire hadn't found out about them being there and was giving Kai hell for it. Glancing to his right he could tell Kenny was also feeling awkward as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt and continuously ran his hand through his hair.
The door was pushed fully open then, and they all turned to see Kai stepping into the room. He shut it tightly behind him and faced them. They could all clearly see the line of blood that was running down his face in a slow, almost lazy way. It was coming from a long thin cut that spanned his right cheek. After some time, Rei was the first to speak.
"He hit you?"
Kai's gaze travelled over to meet Rei's concerned face; he mentally snorted. This was nothing, a small insignificant cut that just happened to bleed a lot because of his little problem of being anaemic.
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be," Rei protested softly. He didn't like seeing anyone get hurt; violence was never a way to solve anything; unless the matter needing a solution was in the event somebody fainted and needed a hard slap to be revived. Other than that, no hurting was good hurting.
"So he was that mad about us being here then?" Max questioned from the far side of the room. Kai remained silent as though Max's inquiry did not make sense; his eyes cleared and he shook his head slowly, a 'no'.
"He doesn't know you're here," Kai said. "He just had a bad meeting today, so..."
"So we should leave before he finds us here and you get punished again," Spencer elaborated. Kai didn't respond, just turned his eyes to the floor. Taking the hint, they all began moving forward to vacate the premises. Before any of them left the room, however, Bryan had something to say.
"That sure is a lot of blood for such a small cut," he said, eyeing the blood that was still travelling down Kai's face. Tala smirked to himself on the inside; Bryan would know how much blood was to be expected from any injury, considering he had inflicted many of them on others.
"...I'm anaemic," Kai said shortly. This confession was met with confused and understanding looks.
"What's anaemic mean?" Tyson wondered. "Is that what happens when you don't have enough fibre? Because, really Kai, even my grandpa knows enough to keep his diet healthy. Fibre is your friend."
"Umm...right. Well, anaemia is a blood disorder; basically there is a depletion of white blood cells in the system," Kenny explained. "White blood cells play a very important role in our bodies. One of their functions is clotting. Clotting is when–"
"If you're anaemic, and you get cut and bleed, a lot more blood comes out than if you weren't anaemic," Rei cut in, seeing Tyson's confusion grow with all the words Kenny was using.
"Say Kai was stabbed in his hand," Bryan offered. "Still hurts, but he could bleed to death from it if he didn't stop it immediately." Tyson's eyes widened.
"Kai's gonna die? He can't die; he's too young!" Tyson ran to Kai and threw his arms around him and held tightly. "Don't you worry Kai, we'll get him back for this. This is murder, and there's no way anyone will let him get away with it. I'll testify, don't you worry about that! Kai! Why aren't you answering me! Don't go into the light! Stay away from it! Hang on buddy, we'll save you!"
During all this Kai had been staying calm and not beating Tyson for squeezing the air out of him. As he continued though, it was too much for him, and he knew he'd have to get Tyson off before all of his dignity was lost. It didn't help that nobody else was planning to help him; they were too busy grinning like idiots or just sneering in amusement.
Kai sighed and managed to bring his arms up from Tyson's death grip and push him away. Keeping him at arms' length by placing his hand on Tyson's head, he addressed the others, ignoring Tyson's mad swings with his arms to get back to Kai.
"The sooner you leave, the better," he informed them. "He'll be working now for a bit, trying to figure out a way to get what he wants, and when he's this obsessed with something he doesn't notice anything around him."
Making their way to the door, they waited until Max had pulled Tyson away from his efforts to hold Kai again, then they went out. Kai went last, silently wondering if Voltaire would hear them going by. He was paranoid enough as it is, and he always hears things that normally aren't there to be heard.
Walking in the hall to the stairs, Tala hung back to talk to him.
"So you're going to get that cleaned up, yeah?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Do you need stitches or something for it, or what?"
"...I have a special kit I use. Just bandages and such."
"Good then."
Tala turned away as he came to the staircase and made his way down. He was frustrated; that Kai was in a situation like this; that he lived with a crazy person who would probably attempt world domination using some simple technique; and he was frustrated that he hadn't really learned anything.
Mulling this all over, Tala was slow to realize that he'd reached the bottom of the stairs. He saw Ian leaving the library and followed after him. Stepping into the hall he saw that everyone had stopped. He stretched himself so he was standing as tall as he could, trying to peer over the mountain that was Spencer.
"Who are you?" He heard a low voice ask. Tired of not being able to identify the speaker, he pushed past Ian and Spencer, then halted.
Standing before them, his hand on a doorknob to one of the many rooms on the second floor, was Voltaire. He wasn't looking particularly pleased that they were in his mansion either.
"We're just...umm...here to see the...the house, and the–"Max tried to explain. Voltaire's cold glare did not help him gather his thoughts."
"I invited them here," Kai was suddenly beside Max and talking for him.
Voltaire watched Kai, looking a tad annoyed by the answer. "Well Kai, you can tell me then: Who are they?"
Kai debated on what to say. True, he called them his companions, not quite friends, but how could he explain that to his grandfather?
"We're his friends," Tyson said, watching Voltaire for his reaction, which came almost instantaneously. The glare was gone, replaced by an almost-surprised look. He scanned over them all, then smirked and looked back at Kai.
"Friends, Kai?" He asked in a mocking tone. "Since when have you had friends?" A look of recognition shone through when he saw the four Russians that he had sponsored standing there as well.
"Well...you certainly don't have high standards, do you?"
"Evidently not, since he tolerates you as his grandfather," Bryan agreed. He stared stonily back at Voltaire, cold glare meeting cold glare, in a show of not backing down. The man was about to answer when Kai spoke.
"They were just leaving," he said, giving the group a meaningful glance as he made for them to move forward. Taking a step to the staircase connecting the first and second floors, Voltaire stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"And why were they here in the first place?" He asked in a low tone. Kai said nothing, only pulled his arm from his grandfather's grasp and moved to the side.
"Go," he told the silent group, who were watching the events unfold. Tyson moved first, walking past the two Hiwatari's, who continued to watch each other over his head. Max, then Kenny, Bryan, Rei, Tala, and finally Spencer and Ian were moving down the stairs, going to the front foyer and collecting their shoes and coats and other garments.
Kai and Voltaire stood still, each eyeing the other. The silence rang out through the house until Voltaire spoke.
"We will talk about this," he said softly, eyes flashing to show Kai his obvious displeasure. Kai stared back at him, then descended the stairs, Voltaire turning and gripping the banister as his gaze fell on the teens in his house.
They had seen Voltaire talking to Kai, but could not hear what was said. Kai made his way down to them, pausing to collect the van keys from the table and handing them to Spencer. He said nothing, did not even look at any of them as he opened the front door and held it, waiting for them to leave.
"Kai..."Rei looked hesitatingly up at Voltaire then back to Kai. Kai heard the slight concern in his voice, and met his eyes. After a moment, he looked down again,
"Get out," he muttered. Rei sighed, but then went out, Max, Kenny, and Tyson all behind him, each casting a worried glance Kai's way.
Bryan, Ian, Spencer, and Tala remained standing inside the door. They were taking too long in leaving, and Voltaire grew angry and began coming down the stairs, deliberately slow.
"He says anything, or does anything, I want to know about it," Bryan told Kai, making sure he spoke loud enough for Voltaire to hear. The others nodded.
"That goes for all of us," Spencer said, placing his hand on Kai's shoulder. Kai stayed still, but after a moment he shrugged the hand off.
"Just go."
Bryan and Spencer left, after Kai telling them where he had moved the van. Ian looked back at Voltaire then at Kai with worried eyes before taking his leave. Tala stood still, coolly watching Voltaire who now stood at the foot of the stairs, and Kai.
His eyes met with Kai's and held the contact, before he too, turned and exited, slowly making his way to where the others stood.
Rei could still see past Tala and Kai; Voltaire had begun moving to the door, and he watched as Kai waited until Tala had fully moved before he closed the door in their faces, leaving them standing out in the cold.
Kai turned to find Voltaire standing close–too close– and glaring at him. Kai had a feeling he knew what was coming next, and he waited.
"I've told you before Kai; you do not deserve friends," Voltaire hissed, his hot breath washing over Kai's face. "Not after what you've done." He looked again at the cut that was still bleeding on Kai's face.
"Clean that up then come to my study upstairs. We have things to discuss."
Kai waited until Voltaire had backed off and went up the stairs to move, moving to the room on his left that had the windows that allowed him to see the front drive. He saw the van moving slowly down the path, the dim sunlight still reflecting enough to create a bright flash.
He sighed, then went after Voltaire, to take care of his cut and then talk with his grandfather. He had a feeling it would not go well.
There are demons and monsters present in the world of today.
They do not always have the sharp claws and saliva-dripping teeth and crazy, rolling eyes that everyone associates with a monster. They do not always reflect the image of them that is portrayed around Hallowe'en in the store windows, with stitches and raised scabs covering their face.
In our world, they are hiding behind masks; masks of decent honest men, who show caring faces to all but those they terrorize. They have select victims, much like a vampire would go after a person who had spurned him or his name.
Perhaps Dracula has sworn a vengeance against Bram Stoker, for his description of Dracula and vampires. Maybe he feels as though the judgement is too unfair, making vampires out to be soulless, evil creatures that care nought for anything but blood and sweet, sweet massacre.
Vampires are like that, but who likes to be reminded?
Monsters in our world are concealed everywhere, and they all act in different and unique ways; planned conspiracy here, a pedophile there.
A man purposefully working to degrade and break down his grandson, believing that he is doing the boy a favour by "toughing him up for the real world." So then, maybe this man was a victim of a monster too; not a physical monster, but the monster of delusion.
All predators are victims too.
So these monsters and demons reveal their true nature only to those they wish to bring harm to, and all other times they are once again hidden safely behind their masks.
As for the victims?
Well, who would truly believe a story of a monster attacking them. Most likely no one, considering the wounds are rarely physical, but more often than not, emotional. Mental.
It would take a lot of proving and facts and evidence to show that one was being attacked day in and day out by a monster only they can see; by a monster that only hurts one person. The efforts required may be viewed as not worth it, the trouble that would ensue by trying to expose the monster or demon.
So the victim continues to allow the terror to be on-going, the one consistent thing in their lives, and just hope that maybe, one day, someone would see what was happening and somehow, help them.
Help them help themselves.
1) Anaemia a blood disorder that causes depletion of white blood cells, thereby causing clotting and healing of a cut and bleeding area to be a longer and slower, thereby less effective, process.
I personally despised the beginning of this chapter. I understand if it was not enjoyed, but description like that is a necessary evil in order to understand the layout of things. All that boring stuff is out of the way, and that was probably the last time such a lengthy description will be needed.
I have an idea as to how Kai's parents were killed, but I don't know if I should use it or not. It may be a bit confusing to use, but I really like the idea. I think it would fit well with the plot line so far. If someone could perhaps volunteer to hear my idea, then I'll tell you the thought and you can share your views.
If not, then I might just add it in and if no one likes it...well, you should have spoken up sooner...as in now.
Anyways, thank you for reading, and please review.