Holy crap, this chapter is LONG! :O Once again, thanks to Barako for BETA'ing it for me. ^^ Also, thanks to Hikari No Aijou for pointing out typos. With these two around, I wouldn't be surprised if this story was completely typo-free. ^O^

As you probably guessed, this chapter covers the flashback of Songi screwing over Gala, as seen in-game at the Uru Mais. Of course, my version contains a lot more rambling and angst, as well as a few other changes. ;D

Also, as most of my readers know, I extended the role of one of the NPCs in Legend of Legaia, namely the healer who gives Songi the Jigul grass and (possibly) the same healer who asks about him many times throughout the game. I liked the idea of giving Songi a girlfriend while he was in the monastery, since it means he won't be such a n00b when he and Gala realize their feelings for each other. I'm totally worried that I made the healer seem like a self-insert for me, but that honestly wasn't what I was going for at all. I just wanted to make things more interesting and dramatic, not to mention see Songi in the role of a terrible, manipulative boyfriend. XD

Chapter 8

"Gala must be the strongest in all of Biron!"

"He has to be! Songi can train all he wants, but he could never match Gala's spiritual strength!"

"Silence! It's Master Zopu!"

The small group of whispering monks immediately stopped talking and turned to face the statue of Biron in the front of the training room.

Around a dozen of the monastery's residents, all powerful warriors, were standing neatly in small horizontal lines. Every one of them was strongly built and dressed in traditional monk clothing, but the two most noticeable figures stood at the very front, closest to the god's statue.

Gala and Songi looked much different than they had when they'd first been brought to the Biron Monastery over eight years before. Then, they'd been frail, grieving children, too weak to stand up to most boys their own age, let alone take on an accomplished monk. Now though, Gala, sixteen, and Songi, seventeen, both looked and were powerful enough to defeat opponents who had more than twice their years in experience.

Both teens had heard their fellow monks' whispers, or at least parts of them, and it was clear to see they were affected. Gala looked uncomfortable and guilty. Songi, although he hid it well, looked like he wanted to pummel every last one of them, then Gala for good measure. His fists were clenched, and he was breathing a little faster than the muscle-relaxing rituals of Biron had taught him.

Master Zopu walked slowly into the room, his robe billowing behind him, and stood facing his students. His face was naturally grim but kind, and there was a definite fondness in his eyes as he surveyed the monks before him - particularly the brunet and red-head.

"Eight years have passed since the Mist covered the earth!" Master Zopu said in his loud, authoritative voice. "These are difficult times, but..." His gaze lingered briefly on Gala and Songi, then quickly moved away again. "I am pleased at how hard each of you is devoting yourself to your training."

There was a low murmur of a appreciation throughout the assembled monks, but the two at the front kept silent.

"Now, as you all know, tomorrow is Biron's Transmigration Festival," Master Zopu said, "and as always, we will hold the ritual tournament. Gala!"

Gala did not flinch at the sudden barking of his name, as he was well used to it, and merely bowed respectfully.

"Yes, Master Zopu!"

"Songi!" Master Zopu said.

Songi, unlike everyone else in the room, had been slouching slightly before now. But when the old man addressed him, he too stood at attention, and all the slight signs of anger in his face were instantly and professionally masked.

"Yes, Master Zopu!"

"As monks of Biron, there are things expected of you. You must fight with all your skills in order to make this a chivalrous tournament," Master Zopu said.

They both bowed again.

"Yes, sir!"

Gala and Songi had just completed the middle level of Biron's training that year. Though they were easily the strongest two in the monastery, the training methods of Biron did not allow shortcuts; a warrior had to train for a minimum of seven years before he could enter the elite training level, and even then they could still fail. In fact, less than twenty-five percent of the eligible candidates had yet succeeded in making it to the elite level, and very few of those had done so on their first try. Although, no one had really believed Gala and Songi would have any trouble, and sure enough, they hadn't; they'd both passed into the elite level with flying colors and were due to start training there the following week.

In this level, monks were required to participate in the ritual tournament, which was held every year on the day of Biron's Transmigration Festival. The tournament was not an aggressive one, but more a way of testing one's fighting skills against one's fellow pupils.

However, this year was a little different. This year, the old Master Teacher had succumbed to an illness, leaving the post blank. The Master Teacher was the second-to-highest-ranking person in the monastery, and the one who would teach most of the monks from then on. Only elite-ranking warriors were allowed to apply for the post, which involved teaching and supervising the lower- and middle-ranking monks while Master Zopu taught only the best.

Gala knew for a fact that Songi had wanted the rank of Master Teacher dearly ever since the post had opened up, and probably for a while before that as well. He wasn't an evil person, and Gala had liked... no, still liked him very much. But the younger teen had to admit to himself that the idea of Songi in a position of power and authority did not appeal to him in the least. He didn't particularly want the post himself - he'd much rather learn than teach - but he doubted such a position would corrupt him, the way he was sure it would Songi.

"That is enough training for today," Master Zopu said, giving his two best students a rare smile. "Time to begin your individual tasks!"

The monks all bowed and began to disperse. Gala made to follow them but was stopped by a powerful hand gripping his arm. He turned around and was rather surprised to see Songi. They hadn't been talking much lately outside of increasingly heated arguments. Often it pained Gala to look at the person he'd once been so close to, but he'd been trying to think less about it as of late. It always seemed so hard when he was face to face with him though...

"Hey, Gala! That ritual tournament is such a drag, eh?" Songi said once everyone else had left the room. He let go of Gala's arm and stood back, looking disdainfully up at the statue of Biron before shifting his attention back to his companion.

Gala didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what he could say that wouldn't lead to another argument. The last thing he wanted was to start getting depressed again right before the tournament.

Songi surveyed Gala irritably, looking right into his face for the first time in months.

"Hey, I don't like that look in your eyes!"

He spat onto the floor at the brunet's feet, and Gala pressed his lips together to stop himself from reprimanding him. It didn't help that Songi was an excellent spitter. Powerful lungs, a powerful throat and a powerful jaw could hardly lead to anything else.

And just what was he talking about with the 'look' in his eyes? Gala didn't have a look, at least as far as he knew.

"No, I-"

"To hell with you!" Songi interrupted scornfully. "I'm not stupid! I can tell by that look in your eyes!" He grunted and turned away again, then seemed to reconsider. Facing Gala again, he put on a very forced smile and said, "Ah, forget it. Let's just have ourselves a good time tomorrow, all right?"

He laughed shortly and walked away before Gala could answer, although truth be told he had no idea what to say to this bizarre display of behavior, much less what to make of it.

ZzZzZzZ

"But, Songi! Tomorrow is the tournament! If you take unconcentrated Jigul grass, your body will go numb, and you won't be able to fight!"

Etha the healer stood uncertainly next to the medicine cabinet in the monastery's kitchen, staring up at the man she'd been dating for the last couple of weeks. Songi stood in front of her, a sulky expression on his face.

Their relationship hadn't gone too far, mostly because Etha was unwilling to break the celibate laws of the monastery. Songi would've been happy to, but he didn't really care much either way. Etha had been the one who'd asked him to accompany her to that stupid Biron celebration, not the other way around. And he'd really only agreed to keep company with her because he'd been half-afraid she'd turn to Gala if he didn't. That was what everyone else seemed to do, after all. Songi scowled.

"Mind your own business!"

Etha's face hardened, and she looked at him in poorly-concealed hurt.

"Songi, why would you talk to me like that? I'm only trying to help you. If you just have a small, concentrated dose of Jigul grass and lie down for a few hours-"

"No! I can't take this headache anymore! Besides, everyone knows that unconcentrated Jigul grass is the best thing for a headache. If I take the grass now, I'll be fine by tomorrow."

Etha's hurt look changed to one of pure exasperation.

"Songi, unconcentrated Jigul grass numbs for you at least twenty-four hours, and even after that, you're still very groggy."

"I'll risk it! Just..." Songi stopped, inhaled and made himself speak more calmly. "Please, Etha. For me? I really need this."

The healer's face softened a little, just as Songi had known it would, and she sighed wearily in defeat.

"All right, but don't blame me if things go wrong."

Etha reached into the cabinet and took out a small dose of unconcentrated Jigul grass. The stuff was extremely powerful, really only meant to be used to numb extreme pain. She knew from her many years of being the monastery's healer that, if Songi took this medicine, he would be out for at least two days, maybe even longer depending on how sleepy he felt. But she'd tried to warn him, and he hadn't listened. Maybe experience was the only way he'd learn.

She placed the Jigul grass gently in his hand, and Songi's face lighting up in a grateful smile as she did made it seem almost worth it. The way he looked when he smiled like that, so gentle and undisturbed, had been the main reason she'd asked him to date her. She knew there was a much kinder, more likable person underneath everything else, because she saw hints of it all the time.

"Songi, do you want water?" she asked, letting go of his hand.

"No, I'm going to take this after I go back to my room. Thanks, Etha."

Songi leaned forward and touched his lips briefly to hers before drawing back and leaving the room. The sensation of warmth and pleasure this left in Etha kept her from realizing the significance of Songi's words for a good thirty seconds, but once she did, she gasped.

ZzZzZzZ

"Oh, Gala. This is so embarrassing, but... I was afraid that you'd beat me today, and... I knew I shouldn't, but I took Fury Boosts to help me fight better."

It was the day after Songi's meeting with Etha, and he'd just taken Gala aside into one of the monastery's empty training rooms. The ritual tournament was due to start in under ten minutes, and almost everyone had gone into the main hall to either watch or participate.

Songi smiled broadly at Gala in almost the exact same way he often had when they'd been best friends.

"But as soon as I took them, I started feeling guilty! I hated myself."

Gala looked at him doubtfully. When had Songi ever talked like this? He'd never given even the slightest impression that he hated himself. Other people, yes; him, yes; but never himself. If Songi sensed his companion's doubt though, he did a very good job of hiding it.

"So here!" he said, holding out his hand to him. "You take a Fury Boost too!"

Gala looked into Songi's palm and saw what appeared to be a Fury Boost. He made no attempt to reach out and take the stamina-boosting drug though.

"But why?"

It was so unlike Songi to be admitting to cheating. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, or at least had been suspected of doing so, but he'd never come clean about it. But his levels of deception had never reached this level. Could Etha have really been...

"This is a contest, so we gotta be fair, right?" Songi said. That smile never wavered. "And I want this to be a fair fight. So go ahead, take it!"

"Well, I don't know..."

Gala hesitated.

Do you really trust him? The way he's been acting these past few months...

Gala looked at Songi, standing so close in front of him, a bold, open smile on his face. He hadn't seen him smile at him, or anyone, in such a way for so long. It made a great improvement to his overall appearance; Songi had always been handsome, but when he smiled like that, he often looked downright radiant. Not that Gala thought in those exact terms, but...

He made up his mind: He would trust Songi over Etha, even though every fiber of his better judgement was telling him this was a bad idea. He would trust in the Songi he knew, the Songi who had been his best friend practically ever since they'd both arrived in this place, the Songi he so desperately missed.

Ignoring all the warning alarms sounding in his head, Gala made an effort to return Songi's smile.

"All right! I'll do it!"

Not even stopping to take a closer look at the Fury Boost to see if it was genuine, Gala took the object and swallowed it whole.

It was mostly flavorless, but it also had a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Unfortunately, this was a shared characteristic of both Fury Boosts and... other things. The only way to know what it really was would be to wait.

Songi laughed and clapped the younger man roughly on the back. It was strikingly reminiscent of old times past. Gala wasn't sure if he should dare to begin to hope though.

"Pretty good!" Songi grinned, stepping back. "You just gulped that right down! I guess the Great Gala really is good at everything."

"Songi, I told you to stop calling me that."

"Fine, fine." Songi laughed. "Well anyway, let's go. We don't wanna be late."

ZzZzZzZ

The stage for the tournament had been set, quite literally. A large platform had been erected in the middle of the main training room, with all the spectators gathered eagerly around it.

The rules of the tournament were simple. It was single-elimination with eight fighters, all the best elites in the monastery. In the first round, the fighters were paired with those closest to their level in order to make things as fair as possible. Naturally, Gala and Songi, easily the two strongest participants, were paired together straight away.

"Gala! Songi! Are you ready?"

Master Zopu's voice rang out over the eager chattering of the spectators, and all went silent almost immediately. The two young monks, standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder save for the inch or so Songi had on Gala, bowed in the traditional Biron fashion and stepped up onto the platform. There they faced each other, expressionless, as they'd been taught.

Gala hadn't been looking forward to this at all. He and Songi already sparred as part of their training, and it was uncomfortable enough to look him in the eye after beating him then, let alone in front of so many people.

Maybe if the ways of Biron hadn't meant so much to Gala, he would've considered losing to Songi on purpose. He would've done almost anything to stop those hate-filled glares he always received during and after their spars. But Gala couldn't do that, and he doubted the older teen would fall for such a trick even if he would.

But now... Now Gala had even more to worry about. Because either Songi had felt bad enough about giving himself an unfair advantage to confide in and help Gala, in which case beating him would be even more unbearable than ever, or else Songi had...

"In praise of the great benevolence and miracles of Biron, we hold this ritual tournament!" Master Zopu said.

Most of the spectators cheered. They were clearly eager to see a match against the two strongest members of the monastery aside from Master Zopu.

Near the front of the crowd though, Maya looked worried as the two boys who were like sons to her faced each other in their individual fighting stances. They'd once been so close, and now they hardly spoke. Participating in this tournament, not to mention competing for the title of Master Teacher, probably wouldn't do anything to help restore their friendship either.

Nearby, Etha surveyed the opponents closely, biting her lip. Under normal circumstances, she would've been cheering for Songi, even though she respected Gala a lot as well, but she couldn't bring herself to now. Like Gala, she wanted to trust Songi, but unlike him, she didn't think she could. She knew how much jealousy he had for the brunet, and she knew he wasn't above doing unorthodox things to get what he wanted. And Gala hadn't even taken her warning seriously...

"Let the tournament begin!" Master Zopu shouted.

One of the other monks banged a huge gong, signaling the start of the fight. Gala and Songi were now free to go all-out against each other, free to finally prove, once and for all, who was the better fighter.

But Gala didn't move. He couldn't. His head was spinning, which meant the whole room was spinning. There were bright, flashing colors in front of his eyes, and his entire body suddenly felt too heavy to be supported by his legs. He would've said he felt drunk, if not for the fact that his mind was still perfectly unclouded.

In front of him, Songi's face swam in and out of view. He was just barely concealing a smirk, but even without that, Gala knew.

Songi betrayed me.

"What's the matter, Gala?" Songi said. He was a terrible actor, and he probably knew it. The bit was really only for the benefit of everyone else. None of them would suspect him, except maybe Etha, and she wasn't about to rat him out.

"Are you scared? Fight me! Come on, Gala!"

He had never sounded so cruel, so gleeful to see a fellow human being suffering.

Gala groaned, swaying on his feet. The next second, he felt a sharp, agonizing smack to the back of his head. Songi had gotten behind him and delivered a fierce, unrestrained blow.

Gala's condition meant that even the lightest tap probably would've downed him, but where would be the fun in that? Songi wanted to prove that he was the best, and a light tap simply wouldn't cut it.

Gala fell to the hard floor of the platform without a cry, completely senseless. In the crowd, someone called out in amazement:

"It only took a matter of seconds! Gala lost! I don't believe it!"

Songi laughed, turning from Gala's unconscious form and towards the silent, staring crowd.

"That's right! I beat Gala! Me, Songi! I win!"

He raised his hands as most of the crowd slowly and confusedly began to applaud. Maya, ignoring several of the other women trying to call her back, ran onto the stage and over to the two boys.

Songi beamed at her and held out his arms, expecting a hug. Normally it bothered him when Maya hugged him, mostly because the experience reminded him of his father, and he didn't like being reminded of him. Now though, he actually felt like he wouldn't mind.

But Maya ignored him and ran straight over to Gala, kneeling down beside him and calling his name in a concerned murmur.

Slowly, Songi lowered his arms, his smile fading. He felt very cold and numb, almost like he'd been given a dose of Jigul grass too. But when he heard the continued applauding of his fellow monks and saw Master Zopu's incredulous, amazed face, these feelings melted away, and he grinned. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly happy.

ZzZzZzZ

"Songi! You made Gala take the Jigul grass, didn't you?!"

Etha stood glaring in the doorway to the small room Songi was lounging in.

About half an hour before, Gala had been taken by stretcher to the monastery's infirmary. A fever, all the healers were saying - well, all the healers except Etha - an unexplained illness that would probably leave the patient bed-bound for several days.

The tournament was to resume in only a few hours, because Gala wasn't in any real danger. Songi was secretly glad for this; he hadn't been trying to kill him, and he never would've forgiven himself if he had. He wasn't a bad guy, really, no matter what some people said.

There would probably be questions. Not so much about whether Songi was responsible for what had happened - there was no proof, after all - but about whether or not Songi had truly 'won,' since Gala had been so out of it when they'd fought.

Songi wasn't really worried though. The rules of the ritual tournament did not cover illnesses or injuries. The best man won, and that had been Songi. Once he became Master Teacher, he wouldn't have to deal with Gala anymore, and he would easily become stronger, and more respected, than him before long.

Etha, though, was a problem. If she kept yelling the way she was, someone might hear her and realize what had happened.

"Aw, be quiet!" Songi said impatiently, getting up from the chair he'd been sitting on and walking over to her. "How should I know what medicine he takes anyway?"

"Stop playing dumb!"

Etha looked livid. He'd never seen her so angry at anyone, least of all at him...

"You may think you've tricked Gala... But he knew! He knew all along!"

Songi returned her gaze stupidly.

"What?"

"I told him!" Etha snapped. "I told him that I gave you the Jigul grass. And I warned him not to take any medicine you gave him!"

Songi gaped at her.

"Y-You..."

He couldn't believe it. Etha had betrayed him? But she was one of the only people in the monastery who really liked him, wasn't she? She was the only person who thought he was better than Gala. Even Maya and Master Zopu liked that macho moron more than they liked him.

"But Gala just laughed," Etha said. "'Oh, Songi's my best friend. Don't worry!' he said."

At these words, Songi felt an unbearable combination of hatred and guilt beginning to bubble up inside him. Each emotion was struggling to overcome the other, and it hurt. It hurt so much he could hardly stand it.

Without even replying to Etha, he turned and walked slowly out of the room. His heart was hammering against his chest like it was trying to escape him and all the things he was forcing it to feel, and he had a horrible feeling he wanted to cry. How long had it been since he'd felt like that? Gritting his teeth, Songi went on walking.

ZzZzZzZ

"Gala! Gala!"

Gala didn't answer him or even stir. He just kept lying in the infirmary, breathing peacefully. The healers had left him to go back to indulging themselves in the pleasures of the Transmigration Festival. Probably not very professional, even if they had confirmed that their patient was in no real danger, but it didn't matter. It meant that no one would be around to interrupt them.

Songi reached forward and roughly grabbed one of Gala's shoulders. He tried to shake him awake, actually expected him to awaken, and was furious when he didn't.

"Gala! Damn it!"

He let go and backed away, breathing hard. He could not remember ever being more angry than he was now. The guilt was still there, struggling against the anger with all its might, but it was fighting a losing battle. Songi wished heartily that it would just admit defeat and leave him already, instead of making him feel as miserable and alone as he did right then.

"Gala, you think you're clever, don't you? You think you let me win! You're so arrogant! You think it's funny to make a fool of me like that? Some best friend! You hypocrite!"

Songi clenched his fists until his nails dug agonizingly into his palms. It was the only thing he could think of doing to stop himself from jumping on the unconscious man and punching him until his fists bled.

"You'll never get away with this - never! I'll crush you! Gala, I'll beat you to a pulp!"

And so saying, Songi turned and strode out of the room, never dreaming that Gala, though numb and dozing, had heard every word he'd said, or that his impassioned rant would end up haunting the brunet for years to come.

ZzZzZzZ

Etha was waiting for him right outside the infirmary.

Oh, crap. Did she hear all that?

Songi's fists clenched again. So what if she'd heard him? He didn't care what she thought, any more than he cared what Maya or Master Zopu thought. They'd all already shown which of them they preferred, which of them they'd much rather have as Master Teacher. So what did it matter if one more person despised him?

"I can't believe you did something so dishonorable, Songi."

Etha was looking at him in hurt bewilderment, and Songi found himself relishing it.

Good. At least I'm not the only one suffering now.

"Clearly you can," he said evenly. "You warned him about me, after all. So I guess you never trusted me either."

"'Either?'" Etha repeated in disbelief. "Gala trusted you completely! That's why he took the grass from you!"

Songi only just stopped himself from spitting at Etha's feet.

"Yeah, right," he said. "He did it to make himself look good. He thinks showing pity to someone as pathetic as everyone thinks I am will get people to like him even more than they already do."

He shouldn't have been speaking so openly, especially now when he was angry, but he couldn't help it. He'd been keeping these feelings of resentment inside him for far too long. If he kept them all there any longer, he felt he would explode.

"You idiot!" Etha shouted. "How blinded by jealousy are you?! Are you really going to let it turn you into such a horrible person?!"

Songi let out a short, humorless laugh.

"'Horrible person?' Is that what you honestly think of me, Etha? No, never mind. Of course you do. You probably only got together with me because you wanted to get closer to him. You're just like everyone else. You prefer that stupid oaf over me. And you have the nerve to start ranting about trust and dishonor after you blabbed to him about what I did!"

Slap.

Etha drew her hand back from where she'd hit him and, without another word, turned on her heel and stormed off. Though Songi would never know, she didn't allow the tears forming behind her eyes to run down her cheeks until she was well out of sight.

Once she was gone, Songi slowly raised a hand and rubbed the mark on his left cheek - the exact same spot Gala would hit him later, in fact, though much harder - a small smile on his face. Damn, that girl could really hit hard. But that was okay. The pain numbed what he was really feeling, and he was absolutely fine with that.

He knew now that Etha wasn't going to keep quiet about what he'd done. She was going to tell someone, someone who mattered, and they would tell someone else, and soon everyone would know. And what would happen then?

Well... Maya would be heartbroken, Master Zopu would be disappointed and furious, and his fellow monks would probably lose most of their respect for him.

Well, let them. I don't care what any of them think.

Oooh, snap! Songi, feeling guilty? Well, that idea was quite fun to mess around with, since we don't really know how he felt when he realized Gala trusted him. Of course, he let anger override the guilt pretty quickly, the douche. I don't know how my idea with giving Songi a GF (that he ends up losing over this, if that wasn't already obvious XD) will be received, but I'm hoping it worked okay. Like I said, I like the idea of him having experience (though it never went that far xD).

Also, for anyone who's curious, Etha is pronounced eh-thuh. It seemed like a Legaia-ish name. I couldn't just keep calling her 'the healer,' after all. XD