Well, here's chapter 7! This fic is really coming along! I'm so happy! ^_^ I'm glad to say that this chapter contains a lot of Gala/Songi interaction. These two are just too adorable together! :3
Also, I'd like to thank Barako for BETA'ing this chapter for me. It really eased my paranoia of having to proofread my own chapters, like, a dozen times. XD Thanks, fellow Songi-fangirl! ^^
I'd also like to thank Hikari No Aijou for giving me advice on shortening some of my sentences. I often forget what it's like for other people reading my work, so I didn't realize how straining some of my longer sentences could be. XD AND I'd also like to thank her for helping me soften the ending of this chapter. I do have a habit of ending my chapters too abruptly sometimes. :O
Chapter 7
Gala awoke a few hours later, still exhausted. He'd barely gotten any sleep. He'd been too busy worrying about what would happen when he finally did get up. Blearily he shrugged his blanket away and forced himself up from the sofa. It was barely past dawn, but he didn't want to stay in Zalan's house any longer. Besides, the sofa was incredibly uncomfortable as a bed.
Gala had already gotten directions from Zalan the previous night for a good, free house in the village. It wasn't too far away, which meant Songi would be able to walk there without too many problems. Thus, there was no reason to stay in this place any longer.
Walking quietly so as not to wake Zalan or his son, Gala made his way to Songi's room, carefully clearing aside the replaced metal scraps as he did so. He had no plan to take them with him, despite Zalan's offer. Songi wasn't dumb enough to fall for the same trick twice. Gala would have to think of something else.
When he walked into the room, the first thing Gala saw was Songi sprawled out under the bed sheets, asleep. He was using an elbow to pillow his head, and his eyebrows were slightly creased, as though the newly-opened wound around his torso was still causing him pain. The purple-black mark now gleaming on his left cheek was particularly noticeable, almost like it was illuminated from behind the skin. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, sleep probably being the only time it ever was.
Gala couldn't help noting, even though he was still furious with him, how uncharacteristically innocent Songi looked when he was asleep. For the last several years, Gala had been so accustomed to seeing nothing but arrogance, greed and hatred on his face. In sleep though, it seemed to have been completely wiped away, and now the only clearly-visible emotion there was fatigue.
But then Gala remembered the previous night and, even more, all the things that had happened before that. He remembered what kind of person Songi really was, and his heart hardened.
Roughly, he reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him. Songi stirred almost straight away and blinked up at Gala, his eyes heavily-shadowed.
"What?" he asked.
The surprise on his face was almost immediately replaced by annoyance. Gala let go of his shoulder.
"We're going. Get up."
Songi surveyed him in confusion for a moment.
"'Going?'" he repeated.
"There's a free house in Jeremi. We're going to stay there."
Songi looked taken aback.
"Now? But I'm..." He stopped. He had too much pride now to say the words, "I'm in pain," but they were clearly implied. Gala was unmoved.
"That's your damn fault, isn't it?" he said, echoing his words to Zalan the previous night. "Get up."
Immediately, Songi's eyes narrowed, and he glared at the brunet.
"Go to hell, you stupid oaf. You can't make me do anything."
"You want to bet on it, murderer?"
Even afterwards, Gala didn't know what had made him say it. The way Songi's face whitened so that it was even paler than usual, the way he gaped at Gala in disbelief and anger for several stunned seconds, made it all seem worth it right then.
"You... You bastard," Songi muttered, staring at him with hatred.
"Songi," Gala said, as calmly as he could, "you still feel that mark on your cheek, right? Well, that was a picnic compared to what I'll do to you if you don't get out of that bed right now."
Gala had never been a violent person, one intent on hurting others, but right then he almost felt like he could've murdered Songi himself. It wasn't a pleasant thought.
Songi scowled furiously but kicked away his sheets, then slowly and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stopped short of putting his feet on the floor though, instead fixing his eyes on Gala's. Despite his own anger, Gala couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the amount of loathing in his eyes.
"When I'm stronger, I'll make you pay for this," Songi said quietly.
Gala's feeling of intimidation faded, and he glared back at Songi with just as much ferocity as he was receiving.
"Well, you're not strong now, are you? So you'd better just shut up and do as I say until then."
Songi looked for a moment like he wanted to spit. That was an annoying habit he'd adopted around his fifteenth birthday - spitting on the ground when he was particularly pissed off at someone. It had irritated Gala almost as much as it had the ever-neat Maya, who had all but begged him to give it up. Although, such reactions were probably part of the reason he did it.
Luckily however, Songi seemed to think his hatred for Gala was too furious to be expressed in this way. He stood up, using both hands to push himself up from the bed, and stood swaying a little, leaning slightly to one side with a hand clutching his bandaged torso.
Even through his lingering anger, Gala instinctively moved forward to help support him, as he'd done the previous night. But unlike then, Songi drew hastily back from him, practically snarling.
"Don't touch me!" he snapped.
Gala shrugged and turned away.
"Suit yourself."
They walked out of the bedroom and back into the main room of the house, Songi a little unsteadily. Gala had been dreading having to rouse Zalan to tell him they were leaving, but luckily the jeweller was already awake and just emerging from his own room, if a little sluggishly. He stopped when he saw them and smiled.
"Good morning, Gala, Songi."
"Good morning," Gala replied formally. Songi grunted and reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall.
"I suppose you're going," Zalan said, a little sadly. "You remember where the house is, right? There should be some food there already, but if there isn't, feel free to come here for some."
"Oh, that's all right," Gala said, returning his smile with effort. "Vahn, Noa and I accumulated plenty of money on our quest, and my third should easily be enough to sustain us for a while."
Zalan looked uncertain, like he wished he could've found something else to offer him, but after a moment he nodded obediently.
"Very well. Then, I guess this is goodbye."
"Yes." Gala held out his hand, and Zalan shook it warmly. "Goodbye, Zalan. Thank you so much for letting us stay here, and I'm sorry for all the trouble."
Letting go of Zalan's hand, Gala looked beside him at Songi, who was now leaning slightly against the wall. Gala gave him a hard look, silently demanding him to thank and apologize to their host too, especially since he'd caused most of the trouble Gala had just referred to. But Songi kept stubbornly silent, not looking at either of them. Typical.
"Not at all," Zalan said, after a somewhat awkward pause. "I'm honored to be able to help you, Gala. If you ever need anything, my door will always be open to you."
"Thank you," Gala said again. He looked back to Zalan, trying to hide his annoyance at Songi. "And please give my regards to Pepe as well."
"I certainly will," Zalan said. He hesitated, looking at the glowering man beside Gala. Finally, he added: "You take care too, Songi."
Songi, with what seemed like a huge effort, managed to push himself away from the wall and stand on his own two feet. Gala was rather surprised to hear him answer in something that could've almost passed for a respectful tone.
"You, too. Thanks."
They left Zalan's in silence, Songi limping noticeably. Gala felt quite a bit less angry with him now, owing mostly to the fact that, whatever he'd seemed, Songi did at least appear grateful for Zalan's hospitality.
As they made their way slowly to the new house, Gala had to stop himself several times from offering to help support Songi, whose steps were pained and unsteady. He almost felt guilty for making him move when he clearly wasn't really up to it. But every time he thought of the previous night and Songi's mocking smirk, he couldn't stop the dull wave of anger that rushed over him, so he kept silent.
The free house they'd been given looked much the same as Zalan's. It was small, square and made of sturdy but rather dull-colored bricks. As they opened the door and walked in, Gala couldn't help thinking about the last people who would've lived here and what their deaths must've been like. Had it been anything like the deaths of his own mother and father? Had their bodies been charred, frozen, mangled or crushed by frenzied Seru, or had they simply been too weak to handle possession and died when the Mist first engulfed them?
The house had been mostly cleared of personal possessions, leaving only furniture and a few odds and ends remaining, but even those told stories. The rocking chair in the corner, the table and four chairs in the kitchen, the cozy hearth only a few feet away, the empty glass vase that had undoubtedly once held flowers... They all spoke to Gala of loss and waste, and he found himself having to swallow several times to dispel the large lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.
"What a dump," Songi said disdainfully, closing the door behind him with a resounding bang. "Can't we just keep staying at that guy's house?"
All Gala's softened feelings for him melted away in an instant. Aside from being such a typically callous and heartless thing to say, Songi had willingly allied himself with the monsters who had caused Jeremi's - and many others' - people to die in the first place. Besides which, he certainly wasn't acting very grateful for everything Zalan had done for them, whatever impression he'd given a few minutes ago.
"Songi," Gala said, turning to him and trying to keep calm, "just because you're used to-"
"-used to being a useless burden on people doesn't mean I, the wonderful and perfect Master Teacher, am," Songi interrupted him in a high, mocking imitation of Gala's voice. Then he added, in his normal voice: "Yes, I know. You don't have to remind me. It was always like that, wasn't it?"
Gala stopped short. Actually, other than the part about him being a perfect Master Teacher, Songi's imitated speech had been very close to what Gala had been planning to say. He glared at him.
"If you're trying to make me feel sorry for you-" Gala began, but Songi cut across him again, this time with a contemptuous laugh.
"You don't know me very well, do you? The last thing I want is your damn pity."
He pronounced the word 'pity' like it was some kind of disgusting food. Gala felt his face beginning to burn, but he kept willing himself not to get angry. He didn't like what anger did to him.
"If it weren't for my pity," - he pronounced the word the same way Songi had - "you would've been dead days ago."
"But now you're just keeping me prisoner. That's much better, isn't it?"
"Because I can't be sure you won't try to do something stupid again!" Gala snapped, his voice rising.
"So what, you're gonna be my nursemaid for the rest of my life?!" Songi shouted back.
Gala had been wondering the same thing himself. Keeping constant tabs on such an unpredictable, hotheaded person for he didn't know how long wasn't exactly his idea of an ideal life.
"No," he said after a moment. "You're not important enough to waste the rest of my life on. If I get sick of this before I'm sure you've changed, I'll tell Lord Saryu what you did, and he'll have you arrested."
Songi's face paled considerably, and he looked both outraged and terrified at the same time.
"Y-You idiot!" he spluttered. "They'd kill me!"
Gala shrugged. He had no doubt Songi was right. He had committed unforgivable crimes, and it was doubtful any authoritative figure would excuse him for them. The three lords of Legaia - King Drake, Lord Saryu and Emperor Etora VIII - all owed Gala and his companions a huge debt for everything they'd done for them and their kingdoms, but even this probably wouldn't save Songi if he was caught. Besides which, Vahn and Noa were, understandably, very unlikely to want to speak in his favor.
With a slight chill, Gala remembered the words his two friends had exchanged just as they and Songi had come back from the dying Seru-kai.
"But what are we going to do if he tries anything again?"
"Kill him."
Gala made himself drop that thought though. Despite what he'd said, he had no intention of informing Lord Saryu or anyone else what Songi had done, and he hoped fervently that Vahn and Noa wouldn't either. Honestly, if it came to it, if he did end up having to take action to stop Songi from hurting others, Gala didn't know how he'd handle it. Or even if he'd be able to.
But he certainly wasn't going to admit that to him and lose the leverage he'd gained. Songi would be less likely to disobey him if he thought his life was on the line, at least for a while.
"Then convince me that you've changed," Gala said instead. Songi looked very close to driving a fist into the nearest wall.
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?!"
"Not trying to run away in the middle of the night might be a good start."
"Gala, what is it going to take?!" Songi sounded close to pleading. "I... I cried my eyes out in front of you!"
Gala stared back at him, lost for words. It had been the first time Songi had brought up what had happened under that arch since it had happened. It was also the first time in several days he'd actually called Gala by name.
"I cried my eyes out," Songi said again, more quietly this time. "I... I seriously considered suicide for a few hours there."
Gala started. That, he hadn't known. Songi had mentioned something about wishing he would die if he knew it didn't hurt so much, but Gala hadn't paid it much attention. He'd had no idea it had ever gone beyond that.
An unbidden image crept into Gala's mind then; an image of himself, back at that arch, finding Songi as he had on that day. Only instead of finding him huddled and sobbing, the Gala in his mind found nothing but a cold, lifeless mass, its chest pierced and bloody, its eyes fixed, a small knife clutched in its stiff right hand.
Luckily, he was dragged forcefully out of this horrible vision before it could go any further by Songi's voice, once again raised to a near-shout.
"What more do you want from me, Gala?! I'm sorry!"
With some surprise, Gala realized this was the only time Songi had apologized directly for what he'd done. And he seemed so... sincere. But then, he'd seemed sincere before too, when he'd, as Songi called it, cried his eyes out. And what had he done after that? Tried to run, despite Gala telling him not to. There was simply no way of knowing what this man was capable of.
"You could've been manipulating me, Songi," Gala said impassively. "How would I know? I have no idea what kind of damage that... thing did to you."
"It's gone now! You and those kids destroyed it!"
"That doesn't mean it couldn't have done something to you," Gala said, unmoved. "Besides..."
Gala hesitated, but Songi realized what he'd been going to say. All the lingering signs of fear and adjuration dropped away, and he glared at the former Master Teacher with pure loathing.
"Besides, I probably would've killed people anyway, even if I hadn't found that thing?" Songi finished, his lips curving into a bitter smile. "Go ahead, Gala, say it. You were thinking it. Because drugging you at a tournament is definitely the same thing as-"
"It wasn't just that," Gala interrupted him quickly. He couldn't bear to hear Songi talk about what he'd done again. "You... changed. You became so cruel and jealous and... awful. And it wasn't even for a good reason. You were jealous of me."
Songi shrugged and began to turn away, probably planning to leave the conversation altogether. Gala, seized by a sudden, fierce desperation to make him listen, reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Songi stopped short but didn't turn back around. The hand Gala was resting on his shoulder dropped limply back down to his side. He swallowed several times, trying to get rid of the lump still sitting in his throat.
"God, Songi, your father was killed in front of you! If anything should've changed you, it should've been that, not some stupid grudge against me!"
But even as he spoke, Gala wasn't so sure. At the sacred ruins of the Uru Mais, the gate to the Seru-kai, Vahn, Noa and Gala had been made to relive their deepest regrets through dream-like memories. In the end, Vahn and Noa had both ended up sharing their memories, though Gala hadn't been able to bring himself to. He'd been too ashamed.
Vahn had dreamed about his mother, Nora's, death when she'd given birth to his younger sister, Nene. In his desperate attempts to save her, he'd ventured outside the safe confines of his village, and his father, Val, had been crippled by Seru while trying to save him.
Noa had dreamed about her parents and older brother, Cort, all of whom had been of the royal family in the ruined city of Conkram. As they'd learned later, Conkram's war with another large city, Sol, had driven Cort to researching ways to better manipulate the Seru, and this had eventually led to the creation of the Mist. Noa's mother, desperate to protect her daughter from Conkram's impending fate, had sent Noa away with a trusted Soren, where she'd eventually been found and taken in by the Ra-Seru Terra.
Gala had expected to dream about the time his village was attacked by Seru and his parents were killed, while he hid in the small basement they'd left him in. He'd certainly thought that was the biggest regret of his life; he'd obediently followed his parents' orders to hide while they tried to defend their village, defend him, and lost his only family as a result. He'd even begun to prepare himself, as much as one could, for that memory.
But instead of his parents or his village, he'd been forced to relive a memory between him and Songi that had happened much later: The memory of the humiliation and shame he could never let go of. And even though he knew what Songi had done hadn't been his fault, Gala still felt a deep guilt for which he seemed unable to forgive himself whenever he thought of that day...
I hope Gala and Songi seemed in-character in this chapter. As you can see, Songi is getting very frustrated with Gala, and (spoiler-alert) he hasn't forgiven him for hitting him in that last chapter either. ;D