22/12/12 - EDIT!: I have gone through the entire story and revised the chapters. Nothing major has changes besides perhaps a few words here or there. If you want to re-read it feel free to. If you want to review but already have, just PM me, I won't bite :)
Someone was kind enough to inform me that I was spelling Seijuurou's name wrong so I've gone through all the chapters and changed that! Thank you very much for correcting me
Warning!: not many, the usual, mention of blood and somewhat mature subjects bordering on complacent killing etc. But that's the general warning for the entire story so if you're reading this chapter you must be fine with its contents.
EXTRA!:: There are depictions of domestic violence in this chapter, so please do not read this is your uncomfortable about it. I'm happy to give you an overview of the chapter so you don't get lost.
Please enjoy despite the grammar and spelling mistakes I am prone to.
To the Untrained Eye.
First day at Oujou. First days apart.
Seijuurou turned when he was sure his brother wouldn't look back. He watched with shoulders tense and eyes narrowed, as his brother walked away from him towards some unknown school with only three others to keep him safe. The pain in Seijuurou's chest wasn't a light one.
Is had been more years than he'd care to admit since the last time he was away from Sena, and Seijuurou couldn't even remember a time before he met Sena, it was as if nothing mattered anymore, all he wanted was to be with Sena; he simply wanted to be assured that he'd be able to protect Sena. At the end of the day that was all Seijuurou needed to be happy.
Sighing deeply, Seijuurou made his way towards Oujou, for the second time in his life he was going to attend school, he was going to be a regular teenager again, but really it didn't seem like such a good trade-off somehow.
Seijuurou realised he was somehow a little different to other children when he was about four; he realised his family was different from other children's' families at least.
The first clue was that his 'friends' were always talking about reading and colouring or playing games like catch with their parents. Seijuurou never did any of those things.
The second clue was his size, his friends always commented on his skinny and strong Seijuurou was, especially when he helped then get their toys by lifting them so they could reach the top shelf. He noticed during these times how little baby-fat he had on his body, but since his father said baby-fat was bad and his mother never commented, Seijuurou simply brushed the comment off.
The third clue was how his friends were never covered in black and blue bruised. They never talked about their parents (well it was only his father) hitting them when they did wrong. So Seijuurou guessed he must just be a really bad kid since none of the other parents seemed to discipline with fists and belts.
Of course, since Seijuurou was only four at the time, and since he was so used to going for runs with his father, and doing what his father called 'training', he never really commented on the differences.
Seijuurou's father used to be a top-class boxer; he won more fights than he lost, and caused more injuries than he sustained. Of course, after one crippling loss in an illegal fight he never won a fight again-legal or otherwise- and once Seijuurou was born, well his father simply found the perfect way to a continued victory. So he began training his son.
Training was good at first, bonding and laughter, but these innocent things lead to wild fists and anger; if his son did wrong well he got a punch, and if he couldn't dodge that well then there was need for more training. When Seijuurou started arriving back from training with his father with bruises, and bloodies noses his mother was frantic. Her fears lead to confronting her husband, and that lead to more wild fists and discipline.
Seijuurou didn't really understand at the time, he was still very young, but when his mother hugged him one night, kissed him and treated his newest wounds, he couldn't help but question why it was his mother had a bag full of clothes and tears streaming his face.
Seijuurou was only two-and-a-half when his mother left him and his father decided he wasn't training enough.
So Seijuurou lived his life like that. His father was careful, while he was angry, terrible enraged by his son's lack of ability in the sport, he wasn't going to leave injuries that left him unable to fight. Everyone knew what Seijuurou's father was like, he was striving for victory even as he could no longer fight, other parents turned a blind eye to the boy's injuries and the unhealthy lack of fat on his body as the four, five, and six year old Seijuurou grew up.
That's when Seijuurou met Sena.
It was a light day, his father was still practically paralytic after a night of drinking and betting at the local fight ring- and just how wrong did that sound to even the six year old- and so Seijuurou took it upon himself to go for his morning run.
Jogging had always calmed him, let him forget about everything, about the bruised and muscle pain, and let him remember a time when he was a very young baby and was blissfully unaware of everything around him. When Seijuurou was jogging that morning he heard laughter of the most malicious kind, the scuffle of feet on gravel, and the tell-tale signs of something fleshy being impacted. Of course, Seijuurou knew that this was a child playground and that any sound of fighting was usually a very bag thing, so Seijuurou investigated.
What he saw sent anger coursing through his veins. And so he acted.
It wasn't long before the boys were gone, running away tail between their legs, but Seijuurou was more concerned with the tear-less boy still staring at him with those curious brown eyes that seemed so gentle and strong.
Sena won him over easily, simply speaking a few words and accepting Seijuurou for all he was. It was then, during the year that they spent together, that Seijuurou learned to be a child, and learnt of the unspeakable crime his father was committing.
During the two years Sena and Seijuurou were together- just the two of them- Seijuurou started to learn of the crime Sena's father was committing. When Sena would come to the park covered in bruised, or would suddenly have new strains and injuries, well Seijuurou was about ready to beat the man senseless.
"Don't do it Seijuurou, my father is trying to help me."
Sena always told Seijuurou to use his strength to protect the ones he cared for, but Sena was preventing him from doing so. At the age of eight Seijuurou was coming into his own, he was still training with his father, but was doing so with the intention of getting stronger for Sena's sake. His father was happy with the resolve, but angered when Seijuurou refused to fight in the illegal rings where his father made most of his money.
Eventually more and more people joined the family, and when finally Sena was whisked away to Italy because his parents had been killed in the most spectacular of ways, well Seijuurou's (and at the time Mizumachi and Kakei's) decisions had been made for him. He left his father, his country, and the abusive past without so much as a 'goodbye' to his friends.
As long as Seijuurou was with Sena, no matter what country, and even after learning what exactly it was that made Sena's family such a target, Seijuurou was contended to protect the boy who had opened his eyes and was still opening them and accepting of him.
The hardest year for the little family was when Sena turned eleven, that year spilt blood and tears and screams and hysteria, it was one of the only times Seijuurou really questioned what he was doing being part of such a dark, criminal organisations. When Sena turned eleven it was the year that-
"-hin."
His memorise were halted- rather abruptly- by a voice he dimly recognised from his childhood. Turning, still wary of the unknown person, Seijuurou almost ran into a very tall, slim man with tousled golden hair.
"Saku-raba?" he questioned, his face remained stoic, but his eyebrow rose with questioning, not quite sure if the tall boy was really the weak, scrawny, timid boy from his memories.
"I was right!" the blonde's face lit up with a wide smile upon his lips. "Takami, I was right, it's Shin."
Suddenly an equally tall boy appeared beside the blonde. His hair was a cropped brown, neatly groomed it reached the nape of his neck, but no longer, upon his nose was a pair of glasses that glinted in the morning sun as he apprised the solid boy his friend was claiming to be their long since moved friend.
"Takami-sempai." Seijuurou greeted. He knew he was bound to meet up with his old friends, but he never imagined it would be so soon after arriving back in Japan.
The teens –Takami and Sakuraba- talk excitedly about seeing Seijuurou again, Sakuraba moans on about how he suddenly up and disappeared when they were ten and Seijuurou makes an excuse about an exchange programme.
Takami seems fairly suspicious of the story, but he leaves it alone nonetheless, he knows the stoic teen was not one to make excuses, and no matter the six or seven years apart he knows that kind of behaviour was intrinsically in Seijuurou's nature.
"So I assume by the uniform you're wearing that you're going to Oujou right?" Sakuraba asks as he placed his hands in his pockets.
Seijuurou nodded, and with that the three teens walked around the school. Takami had to leace Seijuurou and Sakuraba for his own classes soon after they entered the shcool gates but he promised to meet up with them for lunch and possibly after school. Seijuurou nodded and waved with Sakuraba as they walked towards their own classroom. One that for the next year they would share.
"Hey Seijuurou, would you like to come watch our practice. We can show you around the rest of the school later."
Turning his vision towards Sakuraba as he packed his school equipment away he glanced at his watch. Sena wasn't due back from school for another hour or so, which meant he had time to scout a little. Seeing as his boss had told Seijuurou and the others to find a club, it couldn't hurt for him to take the time to get to know the game that had turned the wimp of a boy he remembered into something lithe and while not roped in muscle, still strong.
"Sure, I have a little bit of time; I might not be able to stay for the whole thing though."
A smile burst onto the blonde's head as he grabbed his rather ridged friend's hand and pulled him towards the senior's classroom. Once they had picked up the captain they made their way towards the field.
Seijuurou was curious when he arrived, he was dropped at the sidelines with the old man –who was introduced as coach Shogun- and busied himself with examining the grounds.
The field was rather large, there were Y-shaped posts at each end of the field, and the field was marked at a very regular interval with white lines. The grass was cut short, and in the center of the pitch was the school's logo.
"Excuse me, sir?" Seijuurou asked sternly.
The man eyed the boy up somewhat apprehensively. Even if the boy was a first year, and had apparently attended Oujou before, Shogun was intimidated. The boy simply exuded a strength that sent even the other boys into a fury of flailing limps, or simply made them pass out. He would admit openly the boy had potential, he was strong, lithe, but also mouldable, whoever trained the boy in his early teens knew what they were doing, they didn't train him in one category, they made him the perfect slate for anything, and that was very appealing to the aging coach.
"Yes son?"
"Which sport is this?"
"Did those idiots not even tell you that?" when he received a nod he continued, "Idiots will get a word with me later... this son, is American football."
Before he could continue the team exited the changing/training room with a murmur of excitement and it was easy to see they all trusted and enjoyed each other, they were smiling, but serious as soon as Shogun stepped forward.
Taking his cue, Seijuurou walked to the bench on the sidelines, took up a rather relaxed, intimidating stance and watched.
Sena always told him he was very adept at listening and watching, he could easily watch and then later mimic something, and had a near-perfect memory too. That is one reason he attended every meeting and mission Sena was present at- not just because he could remember minor details- because he could remember every single face in a room and catalogue them, should that face ever appear again, well Seijuurou had never once been wrong when faced with a lineup searching for a face he had seen once in passing.
Gear crunched together with a satisfying impact that Seijuurou swore he could feel from even the sidelines. His muscles tensed as the runner sprinted and even when he noticed that the ball was not in the running back's, but still in Takami's hands Seijuurou followed the runner, thinking it prey before a superior predator.
He had seen the training rooms, and he has seen the determination in the eyes of the men on the field. As he watched the boys- maybe even men- run and crunch and chase and throw and catch, Seijuurou couldn't move his eyes and a plan started forming quickly.
It was thrilling, rough, and full of adrenaline and testosterone. It was perfect.
Thank you. Merci. Be back soon :3
~~Bleach-ed-Na-tsu :3