Hello! I'm back! ^_^ In this chapter, Gala and Songi have a bitch-fight. ...Yeah. I admit I had a lot more fun writing this than I should've. :P I like to think I made the two fairly in-character for this chapter. Gala might be a bit... meaner than usual, but you can't really blame him. Songi is just such a douche. XD

Again, special thanks to Barako for proofreading this for me, and for sharing my obsession with this pairing! xD Ugh, I do make some really STUPID homophone-related mistakes. :O Also, thanks for the advice on changing Rikku to Riku to make him sound less like a girl. ^^

Chapter 10

It was only about half an hour later when Songi returned, though to Gala it had felt like several hours. The brunet had realized after the first few minutes of waiting that he wasn't going to be able to just sit passively for who knew how long. So, he'd spent the rest of the time pacing back and forth, visualizing pummelling Songi, staring up at the ceiling, visualizing pummelling Songi, kicking at small specks of dust on the floor, visualizing pummelling Songi, and a number of other things.

Just as he'd been thinking of wrapping his arms around the bastard's neck and squeezing as hard as he could for the umpteenth time, said bastard had returned, pushing open the door and stepping carelessly in. His arms were full of bread, vegetables, meat and small cakes - no fruit, as he'd never really liked it much. He looked rather more cheerful than he had for a while, although he was still walking with a noticeable limp. When he saw Gala standing right in front of him though, his face hardened, and he looked at him defiantly.

"Welcome back," Gala said evenly, folding his arms.

"Damn," Songi muttered.

He didn't look dismayed or terrified, of course, only annoyed. Shrugging his shoulders slightly as if to say, "Well, whatever," Songi stepped forward and attempted to side-step around Gala. Arms still folded, Gala moved to the side, blocking his path.

"Don't walk away from me, Songi."

"Oh, sorry Master Zopu," Songi said in a mock-formal voice.

Gala hated him.

"I guess I wasn't clear enough," he said. "You do not leave this house without permission."

Songi laughed, but Gala saw the way his arms tightened around his purchases. He was getting angry as well.

"That might work for a four year-old, but I'm not gonna let you order me around like that," he said.

Gala closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to fly at Songi and start beating him.

"I don't think you understand," he said, opening his eyes again. "If I told anyone in power who you are and what you did, you'd be dead within the month. If I wake up and find you gone again, I'm going to do just that."

Unlike the last time Gala had made this threat, Songi didn't even flinch.

"If you wanted me dead, why would you have saved me?" he said.

"I don't want you dead, but if you leave me no other options-"

"If I die," Songi interrupted, a slight smile on his face, "just think what that'd do to Maya. She'd never forgive you if you killed me. She's already lost her husband, right? Do you think she'd be able to stand it if she lost me too - because of you?"

Gala wasn't even aware of hitting him. One moment, they were standing apart, glaring at each other with equal hatred; the next, Gala had driven his fist into Songi's face as hard as he could.

He knew he'd hit him somewhere around the eye only because, when he came to himself, he saw that all the skin around Songi's right eye was as red as his hair. The eye itself was squeezed shut and watering, not as a result of crying - Songi never would've cried under such circumstances - but simply because the force of the hit had forced the tear ducts open.

The groceries had gone flying everywhere, landing in various places on the floor, and Songi was staring at Gala, his good eye wide with shock and pain.

Unlike the night before though, Gala didn't feel nothing after he'd struck him. Notably, he didn't feel happy or angry, as he'd probably thought he would have. Instead he felt something he was just as used to associating with Songi as those other emotions: shame.

He was supposed to be a calm and collected student of Biron. Why was he reacting with anger and physical violence every time Songi pushed him too far?

"Songi..." he said, slowly lowering his still-raised fist. "Songi, I'm sorr-"

That was as far as he got before Songi punched him square in the jaw. Gala staggered back from the impact until his back hit a wall. Songi, his right hand still raised in a fist, smiled coldly at him. He almost looked happy, even though his injured eye must've been causing him great pain.

"That," he said tonelessly, "was for just now. And this..."

He advanced and hit him again, this time on the side of the face, causing Gala's head to snap back into the wall. He felt the wood and plaster crack behind him.

"...Is for last night," Songi finished, stepping back. "Are you going to let it go any further, Gala? Because if you want a fight, I'd be happy to-"

He was interrupted when Gala drove his fist towards his chest. Songi jumped to the side just in time, and Gala only hit air. Despite this impressive dodge however, Songi's face had grown white again, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

"You're going to open up that wound again," Gala said calmly, as though he hadn't just attempted to attack him.

"So I suppose you'd rather I just stand still and let you beat me?!"

"Since you asked, yes!"

Gala dove at him, using his entire body. This was a rash move Songi clearly hadn't been expecting, and he didn't completely manage to dodge it. Gala's left shoulder caught his right, throwing him off balance. As Songi tried to regain his footing, Gala pulled out of his dive and drove his right knee point-blank into his stomach. He purposely made sure to strike him as close to his wounded torso as possible. He told himself later that he hadn't been trying to cause him unbearable pain, that he just wanted to end the fight, but he knew deep down that that was a lie. He could've just walked away.

Upon impact, Songi let out a low groan of agony and fell to his knees, clutching his stomach with both hands. Gala slowly backed away so he was out of striking-range if the older man decided to retaliate.

But he needn't have bothered; Songi was far beyond retaliating, at least for the time being. He stayed down for well over a minute - probably a record for him, unless one counted the time in the Seru-kai - massaging his bandaged torso and evidently forcing himself not to groan again.

Finally, his hands dropped and he stood up, using the wall to support himself like he had at Zalan's. He looked at Gala, but it was impossible to tell from his face what he was thinking. Although, it wasn't really hard to guess, especially when he next spoke.

"Cheating... bastard..."

Gala returned his gaze steadily. He felt surreal and drained. His face and jaw were throbbing where they'd been hit, not to mention the part of his head that had smashed into the wall from the impact. And there was a dull ringing in his ears that he hadn't felt since...

XxXxXxX

"It's the Mist."

Numbly, Gala surveyed the inside of the monastery, the place that had been his home for over a decade. There was Mist, Mist everywhere, just like that day...

Really, he should've suspected something like this when he'd seen the broken fans outside. Those fans had been the only thing that had kept the monastery protected from the Mist for so long. And now that they were broken...

Maya... Master Zopu... Songi...

"Why is the Mist in the monastery? What on earth happened?" Gala was speaking, but he wasn't really hearing himself, nor was he aware of the two kids gasping in dismay somewhere nearby. His brain was still struggling to register the terrible brutality around him.

Bodies... Bodies everywhere.

His darting eyes caught sight of a young monk lying on his back, one he recognized as Riku. He was a well-built, good-natured man, many years older than Gala and Songi but still only a lower-ranking monk. He and his mother had been from the same village as them, and they had been brought to the monastery for refuge at the same time as Gala, Songi and a few others. Gala remembered him as being one of the several monks who'd gone to East Voz Forest with Songi.

An awful kind of panic seized Gala, and rushed to Riku's side. The man was bleeding heavily from a deep, jagged hole in his chest. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. Very faintly.

Just like before. Just like with...

"Riku! Wake up! Get ahold of yourself, Riku!"

Slowly, Riku's eyes opened, and he stared up at Gala in a drowsy haze.

"Master... Teacher..."

Gala was afraid to lift Riku's head in case he exacerbated the bleeding, but he couldn't just leave this dying man alone. He settled at last for placing a trembling hand on Riku's shoulder, just as Vahn and Noa came up behind him. He ignored them though, just as he'd been doing for most of the short time he'd known them. Right then he only had eyes for his fellow monk.

"Riku, what... what happened here?"

Gala's voice cracked, the first time it had done so in years, and he swallowed. There was a lump building in his throat, and his lungs didn't seem to want to work properly. Despite their similar pasts, he wasn't really any closer to Riku than he was with any of his other students, maybe because Riku hadn't lost any family in the attack like he and Songi had. But still, he was his student, and he was a fellow student of Biron. How could this have...

"Master Teacher, I..." Riku stopped and coughed out a mouthful of blood.

Just like before...

"Master... Songi," Riku said after he'd recovered slightly. "He's..."

"Songi?!" Gala said sharply, feeling cold all over.

No... No. Please, Biron. Not Songi too...

"Where is Songi?!" Gala demanded. He realized he was squeezing Riku's shoulder, and he made himself relax his grip. "Riku, did Songi make it back with you? Is he..."

But Riku didn't answer him. He never said another word. A few seconds later, with a low sigh, he went limp on the hard floor of the monastery, his eyes staring unseeingly up at Gala.

Just like before.

XxXxXxX

Gala kept looking at Songi, the man who'd caused all those deaths in their home. Riku's last words had been wasted talking about this pathetic bastard, and to add insult to injury, Gala had wasted the dying man's last living thoughts on asking about him as well. He hadn't told him he'd been glad to have him as a pupil, or that he'd been so proud of all the progress he'd made, or even that he'd take care of his mother in his place. No. He'd just asked about Songi, the reason Riku had died in the first place.

"Songi..." Gala said quietly, his ears still ringing. "Songi, get out of here. I mean... go to your room or... or something. If I have to look at you right now, I... I might do something I end up regretting."

Songi stared at him blankly for a moment, but perhaps he sensed the pure rage in his companion and realized he was only seconds away from being on the receiving end of it. Under normal circumstances, he certainly would've risked it, but he was hardly in any condition to fight back. Not right now.

Stopping only to grab a cake, a piece of steak and some radishes from his scattered supplies, Songi walked out of the room. A few seconds later, Gala heard a door slam.

Breathing hard, he sat down on the hard floor and put his head in his hands. He pushed his palms into his eyes as hard as he could, not stopping until bright, white stars jumped out at him. Then he slowly lowered his hands, closed his eyes and breathed.

In. Out. In. Out.

It took a long time, and many suppressed thoughts of following Songi into his room and beating him until he was nothing but a writhing and bloody mass at his feet, but eventually Gala managed to calm down enough to think clearly again.

The first thing he did was stand up, gather the rest of the scattered food Songi had bought into his arms and take it into the kitchen-area of the main room. As he looked down at the various meats, vegetables, breads and cakes, he caught himself wondering spontaneously how Songi had spoken to the street vendors he'd undoubtedly purchased the food from. The only person he'd ever heard him be polite to was Master Zopu and their former Master Teacher, but then, no one had ever had a need to shop in the Biron Monastery.

ZzZzZzZ

In the small room that was now his, Songi lay face-up on his bed, munching lazily on a radish while he rested his hands behind his head. The bed wasn't nearly as comfortable as the one at the jeweller's, but it would do. It was practically the only piece of furniture in the room anyway, save for a tiny, decrepit-looking bedside table.

The steak he'd brought lay over the eye Gala had whaled on. He would've liked to eat the steak, but he had no means of cooking it in here, even to the very rare state he loved so much. At least it was providing some relief to his aching eye, although not as much as he would've liked.

Before this, the still-healing wound he'd gotten in the Seru-kai had stopped troubling him for the most part, but Gala's cheap, well-placed knee to the stomach had changed that. Now not only was the resulting bruise there incredibly painful, the wound around his torso had come back with a vengeance too. And his cheek... One couldn't forget about his cheek and the nice mark Gala had left for him there.

Songi scowled up at the ceiling and spat out the half-chewed radish. He'd wolfed down the cake and all the other radishes within the first few minutes of coming in here. He'd really only been messing around with that last one out of boredom.

Hopefully Gala is hurting too. Should be. I hit him as hard as I could.

Songi smirked a little at the satisfying memory, then winced as his eye throbbed again under the steak.

What else were you expecting? He was so pissed the other night. I suppose all the stuff you did before that played a part in it too, though.

"Shut up," Songi muttered aloud, bringing one hand up to clamp the steak more tightly against his eye. There was no real emotion in his voice as he spoke, unless weariness counted.

Gala is an idiot. One minute, he acts like Maya while I cry like a girl next to him...

Songi shuddered inwardly at the memory. He'd been trying not to think about it over the past week, trying to wipe it from his mind altogether. Of course, he'd just had to act like a whiny moron and bring it up with Gala before, but still...

The next minute, he acts like I'm some disgusting parasite on the bottom of his shoe. As it happens, I am a disgusting parasite, but I sure as hell aren't on the bottom of his shoe. Gala is just as bad as I am.

How can you say that? some deeper, more rational side of him protested. Gala saved your life, got rid of the Mist that killed so many people and earned the respect and admiration of everyone in the monastery. What did you do? Betray and attack your own people, join the people who created the Mist in the first place...

"Shut up!"

Songi sat up, still clutching the steak to his eye. Now there was emotion in his voice. Was there ever.

Blood was pounding in his ears, matching the pounding in his eye beat for beat. Despite that, there seemed to be a deafening silence stirring in the room. It seeped through the walls, hung from the ceiling, rushed up through the floors... It was maddening. Songi felt his ears would burst from it, even more than they'd burst from the relentless pounding of his heartbeat.

He was about two seconds away from jumping off his bed and smashing the nearest thing he could get his hands on, if only to stop the madness, when there was a knock at his door: three brisk knocks, so close in succession they almost sounded like one sound.

Songi knew that knock.

OMG, a cliff-hander! Yeah, I'm evil. XD It's about time Gala and Songi had a fight. There was no way Songi would let Gala get away with hitting him and generally making him his bitch. ;D But will they ever reconcile? ...Oh hell, it's slash - of course they will. ^^

As for Songi's self-loathing (namely calling himself a parasite), I hope that seemed offhanded enough to be somewhat believable. He's not really showing it now and won't for several more chapters, but he really is sorry for all the stuff he's done. It's much easier for him to hate Gala than it is to own up to his mistakes. Stupid Songi. :(