I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: and ... GO!

Warning: the bunny is now loose! Did I ever say this was written at ten chapters? Written, done, tied with a bow? And WHAT number is this chapter exactly? Yeah, just what I thought ... stupid rabbits.

H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*

Chapter Nineteen: No Kau a Kau ~ For Eternity

As far as Danny was concerned, Kono's idea to repair his board via an introduction to Makoa Hayashi had been a brilliant one. Though he was only on his third visit to the workshop and he knew that Makoa was taking an excruciatingly slow pace to cater to his questionable stamina levels, he was no longer entirely bored by the enforced restrictions of his recovery. He was engaged and interested enough in the process or with Makoa's more detailed projects to actually be enjoying himself. The distraction was timely, not too physical and incredibly different in every way imaginable. Cleared to drive, the brief morning visits also left him enough freedom and energy to put in a few afternoon hours behind his desk at the office.

Danny quickly saw that Makoa was an artistic genius despite only the three odd fingers which remained on his left hand. Well, two and a roughly one half, because Danny had assumed all three fingers were at least intact. However, he hadn't been entirely correct since Makoa's index finger had been severed by a jagged tooth at the first joint. And as Danny promptly learned through the man's caustic humor, Makoa thought it all a big joke played on him by an unforgiving universe.

"This, "Makoa had happily leered at Danny as he waggled the three digits in the air before thrusting his thumb skywards. "Only this is important. Without a thumb, a man is lost."

He had grinned. Danny had nodded in agreement, watching while he put the finishing touches on a custom board that would be ready for pickup that same day. The office phone had rung before they could say more, and once Makoa had run off to answer the call, things had gone to the proverbial hell in a hand-basket.

Makoa was nowhere in sight and Danny was faced with the oddity of an altercation as he stood nose to chest with a heavily tattooed native Hawaiian man.

"Who are you, haole?" The whispered threat had come from behind as Danny continued to remove the wax buildup from his board. Cleaning it was a prerequisite for any next step in the repair process, so Danny had naturally resumed his menial job until Makoa came back from his call. The task was benign enough, tedious even, and something Danny could manage safely during his short two-hour block of time at the workshop.

"What!" Danny jolted in surprise, whirling around to face the brawny Hawaiian man who was roughly in his late twenties. On automatic pilot, his hand strayed down to a non-existent weapon and in the end, Danny was left fisting the simple scraping tool he held high between them.

"What are you crazy? Sneaking up on somebody like that!" He scolded in a near friendly tone as he sized up his adversary and recognized trouble. The tatts were particularly gang-related and the one which Danny identified on the man's right hand had definitely been done in prison. Between his thumb and forefinger, five dots were equally spaced to represent time spent behind bars. The four black dots on the outside represented four walls, and the fifth, placed in the center, signified the prisoner himself.

"I said, who are you?" The stranger ignored Danny's dismal attempt at normal conversation, enunciating each of his own words with a slight native accent. His eyes were narrow, angry and already full of hatred as he took up any remaining personal space between them. There was so much animosity leaking from the man's very being, Danny worried that he'd already been pegged as a cop - just as he'd labeled him a gang banger - despite the plain cut-off shorts and t-shirt he was wearing. Their two worlds would never have a chance of meeting in the middle.

"Hayashi doesn't like trespassers and he sure as hell doesn't give lessons to stupid haoles," the man sneered as a threat. "Where is the old man?"

"He's in the office," Danny said calmly. "He's here if you want to see him. But do you have an appointment because Makoa also doesn't appreciate unannounced visitors."

"I see. Makoa is it?" The young man purred dangerously. He snorted softly under his breath, a bit perplexed by Danny's familiarity with the craftsman and apparent refusal to back down or show him an expected level of fear. "Not such a dumb haole after all. Or, maybe you are and just don't know it yet?"

Danny winced as the man's forefinger drilled into his collarbone and the dangerous sneer deepened when he cocked his head to view the pinked, healing scar in his hairline. "What happened here?" He chuckled rudely, peering even closer towards the healing wound.

Since it wasn't really a question which required a truthful answer, Danny held both his tongue and his ground as he automatically considered his best tactical defense moves as the situation began to escalate. However in all reality, he couldn't afford the danger of a fist fight in his still somewhat fragile condition. His timing would be off and his reflexes much too slow. Making matters worse, he would need to fight much too carefully because if anything or anyone managed to hit his head, he'd be in a world of trouble.

"Broken board," the Hawaiian scoffed around a lop-sided sardonic smile. "Matches perfectly to a broken head ... does it still hurt?" The finger which had poked Danny's shoulder now dared to rise up as if to trace the scar, but as it connected with the first bristle of hair, Danny snapped.

"You don't want to do that," he hissed angrily, the scraper forgotten and clattering to the floor as his hands wrapped around the man's wrist to twist. Almost too easily, the arm bent willingly to follow the turn of the joint and the man laughed as he intentionally softened his knees to fold in upon himself. The Hawaiian's offensive maneuver was skilled and left Danny with little choice to fight as sinewy muscles bunched reactively until a large shape descended between them, ominous in its sudden appearance.

"Back off," Makoa ground out as he physically separated the men and rounded on the stranger. Danny's grip was broken by Makoa's sheer size and strength and he stumbled backwards, falling heavily into the saw horse behind him and sending his broken board thudding loudly to the floor.

He knew already that Makoa Hayashi had a vile temper. The older man had a very real reputation for a hair-trigger rage which he wasn't afraid to channel into a strong fist at the drop of a hat. That gnarled fist did so instantly as it connected soundly with the Hawaiian's jaw to send him sinking into the concrete floor. There was a loud slap as the body hit the ground, but Danny cringed when a maniacal laugh emanated upwards.

"Why are you here?" Unperturbed by the burst of cackled laughter, Hayashi was scooping the intruder back up by the front of his shirt as he snarled his question. The sound of ripping material compounded his anger and provided more testament to the lethal strength of his remaining three fingers. Held high, his right hand was ready again to fell the stranger. "You were told never to come back. Why are you here?"

Hayashi was seething in rage, his face suffused with blood and his hands shaking uncontrollably. Everything about Hayashi's very being communicated the danger the Hawaiian had brought to his workshop as his body effectively blocked the space between Danny and the man he now physically held up on his toes.

"No, you tell me first. Why is he here, old man? Making friends with white cop haoles?" The Hawaiian countered with questions of his own instead of answering the older man. Nearly as broad of shoulder as Hayashi, his own fury was a violently matched twin to the older man's as his hands rose up defensively. "What makes him good enough? Money? Something else?"

"Shit. Makoa," Danny muttered when the two big men squared off as if to finally come to a real war of blows and he yanked out his cell phone intending to place an urgent call to HPD dispatch. But Danny was forced to hesitate when Hayahshi spared him a disapproving glance. On the heels of the demand, Danny literally winced as the older man's eyes disappeared behind their white crown of hair. In his short time around the craftsman, he knew at least that particular look and knew imminently that something else was indeed going to happen. It was a look that the stranger also seemed to recognize and though he sneered derisively, he instantly deflated.

"Fine, old man," the Hawaiian hissed with an odd laugh. "Keep your little friend; but this thing between you and me ... it isn't over." The spread fingers and apparent submission were tactics which Danny knew could be inherent lies; but as Hayashi tensed even more, Danny realized that he recognized the same thing. Hayashi was far from fooled by the possibility of a game being played, so perhaps even, he'd learned it the hard way once before.

"Leave! Get out!" Hayashi shouted his demands just once. The thick cords of his neck were prominent as they pulsed and Danny watched in shock as Hayashi literally picked the younger Hawaiian up by his shirt and bodily removed him though the back of the workshop. He aimed for the rear door which was obviously the same door the unwanted visitor had entered through. The sounds of the scuffle were loud and out of place in the workshop, making the entire event almost sacrilegious. Wisely remaining where he was and still strangling his cell phone, Danny regained his equilibrium, idly rubbing the irritated section of hair though he'd been barely touched. He stayed on edge and considered placing a call to HPD despite what he'd been instructed while he listened and watched the two through the open doorway as they exchanged heated words.

Minutes passed and Danny began to sweat, his stress level rising when Hayashi broke his stance to physically shove the stranger to the hard-packed dirt of the yard. Expecting this to be the point of no return, Danny's fingers splayed over his phone and he almost hit the send key until everything simply ended. Without actually coming to it, the stranger had once again deflated. He'd taken the one punch to the jaw, accepted his removal from the workshop, and now seemingly absorbed the hard shove to the ground.

Oddly though, Danny realized that he'd not once touched Makoa despite the verbal sparring match or the oftentimes similarly raised pair of fists. Danny watched as the younger man got to his feet, whispered something to Makoa and simply walked away.

For a long period, Hayashi stood outside his building doing nothing but clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared blindly into the distance. Understanding that Makoa needed the time to calm himself, Danny waited where he was unable to do a single thing until he was offered an explanation.

"What was that about? Who is he?" Danny asked cautiously as Makoa finally re-entered the workshop. He asked carefully because the anger had far from subsided. Silence met each and every one of his questions or suggestions and Danny panted breathlessly though he'd essentially done nothing. His heart thudded almost too wildly as the heat in the workshop suddenly seemed to be too much to manage. "You should have let me call HPD. At least let me file a report ... talk to HPD and get this on file."

"He won't be back if he knows what's good for him," Makoa finally deigned to offer a verbal opinion as he pawed sweat from his face. He stepped forward, examining Danny from head to toe and staring much too long at the healing scar. It took longer for him to be satisfied that Danny was unscathed before he heaved in a deeper breath. His hands were still trembling and he appeared to be annoyed by that fact.

"You'll do nothing because I don't need the police to manage my personal business; especially not for the likes of him," Makoa growled out. "This has nothing to do with you; stay out of it." The words were brazen and now it was Danny's turn to stay silent.

He did frown though, glancing up to examine a completely unreadable expression. The older man was shaking, yet much of the fury had now dissipated and his eyes were calmer pools of deep brown. He seemed better, however he shared nothing and Danny didn't trust the external demeanor. Now on day three, he still couldn't figure Makoa Hayashi out, nor read his choleric mood swings.

"He did threaten you." Danny simply couldn't stay quiet for long driven as he was to voice his concerns. "You might want to reconsider filing a report. I mean, you're far out here ... alone. It's not entirely safe." The unexpected visit had unsettled Danny and brought his ingrained habits to help to the fore despite the way Hayahsi nearly stopped breathing and a look of displeasure rekindled in the man's eyes.

"Makoa, please reconsider," Danny softly urged. He remained even-toned, but his inability to avoid the subject and keep his unwanted council was like showing a very large red flag to an extremely agitated mature bull.

"Go home." Makoa spat out in a temper, standing tall and taking a full step back from where Danny was standing. He understood that the detective meant well, but he had no desire to discuss or pursue any of his suggestions. In fact, sweat speckled the recovering man's brow and beaded his neck. Danny's face was flushed and he was still breathing uncomfortably. He used all of those things to finalize his wishes because they'd both had enough and Makoa, himself, was in a distinctly foul mood.

"We're done for the day. Go home; rest." With only a few feet separating them, Danny could easily see the anger returning in the dark brown eyes. Anger and yet something else which he couldn't quite define.

"Just like that?" Danny tried to change his tone as way of apology. He tried to do something to help settle the older man and calm his mind, but Makoa was utterly done with talking for the time being. "Makoa, I'd like to help ... if you want ... to talk. Are you sure?"

"Don't bother coming back tomorrow either," Makoa stated with a harsh vehemence. Each of Danny's offers were refused and his audience for the morning - as well as that of the next day - over and canceled as Makoa's thick chin jutted belligerently towards the front of the workshop. "You're tired and need a break from this. I also have another commitment and won't be here."

"Tomorrow? But ...," Danny blurted his one last objection in surprise but he was faced with the man's back as he was summarily dismissed.

~ to be continued ~