(Author's Note: Nya, hello ducklings. Apologies for the longish wait, we were moving and there was no wi-fi! It was terrible! Anyways... I considered re-writing this chapter because I wasn't sure if I wanted to reveal this much about Kai so soon, or if the whole... thing was unnecessary, but I had my partner in crime look over it and she said it check out. Have fun!)

Chapter Five: Kai: Injured Pride and Past Awakened

Black*Star was waiting outside when I shoved the door open, an angry look on his face. I was surprised, to say the least, that he was still here, but even more surprised by the look in his eyes when he faced me. The anger and the hurt was quickly masked by his usual foolish arrogance as he grinned widely and started strutting down the hall beside me. Tapping the envelope against my thigh as we walked, I frowned ahead. Why would Lord Death be throwing a ball for the exchange students? With the amount of difficulty most new partners were having with soul resonance, it seemed to me that seeing their old companion might be a bit counterproductive.

"What'd the teacher want?" Black*Star asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow at me, "Seem to me it was pretty important if she's giving you stuff for it. Did she give us extra-credit?"

"Na, just some stuff from Lord Death." Shoving the letter in one of my books, I took them from his arms, "Thanks for carrying these for me. We'll open it up when we get home, alright?"

My meister merely grunted, pausing as we walked past the mission board. The mission board was one of the few places in the DWMAA that looked out of the ordinary – otherwise it looked nearly like a normal American high school. Here, though, it was the same design as it was in every DWMA, and whether it was the missions or the looks of the board: you could see a certain look in some of the teen's eyes when they looked at that board. Whenever we were searching for a mission, we reacted as normal teens would: mild interest, excitement when we found one that looked to be our skill level. There was an underlying blood lust to it all, a fight-savvy spark that traveled through each of us. Missions brought out our inner love of our jobs.

"Kai!"

"No Black*Star, we just came back from a mission! Plus, we have plans in a few days!"

The ninja ran to me and dragged me back to the board, shoving my face near one of the posted missions. "Look though! A big star like me and a strong weapon like you would take care of this in no time! And you'd be one step closer to being a death scythe!"

Flattery and bribery in the same sentence. He really wanted to go on this mission.

"Tom Thumb in Florida," I mused, "I guess we could take care of it in two days if we left right after lunch…"

"Then let's go!" He shouted, whooping and jumping down the hall towards the office to get our mission approved. I followed distantly, stopping at my locker momentarily to put away the books I didn't need, take the envelope, and pack my necessities into my backpack quickly. By the time that was all done, Black*Star had bounded all the way down the hall and was now excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited by the service window. I quickly joined him, slightly flattened under my heavy load, and watched silently as the lady behind the glass noticed us and rolled her eyes. We'd been here a lot in the last five months.

"Again, Black*Star?" She sighed as she slid aside the glass. Her hair, though it seemed impossible, was even more dull that her voice. "You just got back. Shouldn't you be studying?"

"Who needs to study when you're as big a star as me?" Black*Star scoffed, leaning up against the frame of the window with one shoulder and crossing his arms, "School won't help me surpass god, you know."

The receptionist gives me an almost pleading look, but at this point I feel like I need to get out of school again. I could just as easily learn a lot of our lessons on my own, in the field. Simply shrugging, I readjusted the backpack on my shoulders. She would get no help from me.

"Alright then. Which one do you want to take?"

"Tom Thumb, Florida." I offered, flicking my head in a swift motion to get my red bangs out of my eyes. "Tickets out as soon as possible, we have to be back by Friday."

With a huff of displeasure, she began clicking away at her computer to set up our mission. I took a moment to study my meister, wondering what was going through his head today. Then again, I wondered what was going on in that seemingly empty head of his every day, but today was somehow different. Maybe it was that he'd actually paid slight attention in class – which was a miracle in itself – or maybe it was what Ms. Roades had said, but my great annoyance with my meister was suddenly couple with curiosity.

What exactly made Black*Star who he was?

The boy caught my eyes and raised a singular blue eyebrow, muscles tensing as something flickered across his face. Immediately he looked away, the corners of his mouth turning down and his expression souring. It was such a strange look, him seeming actually negative, that for once my hate of his arrogance was stunned right out of me.

"Hey, what's up?" Concerned, I shifted towards my meister, my natural instinct as his weapon to confront whatever it was with him - or for him, depending on the situation. A touch of my hand on his shoulder elicited a surprising reaction from both of us: his body jolting as his eyes got rounder than a McDonald's cheeseburger patty, my palm erupting into tingles. The both of us awkwardly stared at each other for a long moment as my fingers hovered above his skin, our faces equal shades of red.

"Plane leaves in two hours, here's your tickets."

I quickly snatched the tickets, avoiding her eyes and spinning on my heel so I didn't have to face either of them. Walking quickly down the hall, I glanced quietly at the tickets in my hand, reading over the sheet of instructions she'd also handed me. Black*Star, with all his exaggeration, had probably been right about this mission probably taking a very short time for us. It was just a small town in Florida plagued by a dwarf-gone-kishin who was terrorizing teens and eating their souls. After facing things like the Loch Ness Monster – in which I had been able to show off my homeland to the blue-haired meister – dwarves didn't exactly seem like the hardest thing to take on.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!" Twisting around, I caught sight of my meister trailing behind me at a distance. "We'll miss our ride if we don't eat fast!"

Even from a distance I could see a brief battle on his face, but his usual exuberance/arrogance won out: shouting 'Yahoo!' he sprinted down the hall, grabbing my arm and half-dragging me to the lunchroom. Glancing down at his black boots, the smile on his face, my hand in his, I was struck by a fond feeling for him. Despite the fact that he acted like an arrogant, workout-happy dumbass about 99% of the time, he was dedicated at least. He knew what he wanted to do with his life, even if his goal seemed rather unattainable to me. He was loyal; passionate.

All in all, Black*Star wasn't a bad guy at all, but I still couldn't stand him half the time.

We burst into the lunchroom in a cascade of noise, nearly running three or four people over in Black*Star's haste to eat food. As soon as we reached said food, he then grabbed two lunch trays and piled them with as many types of sustenance as would fit on the school trays and slammed it onto the table where our friends were sitting. Ian and Rose immediately glued themselves to his sides while Zach and Morris, accompanied by Hannah (Zach and Ian's borrowed Filipino meister,), all shook their heads in silence at the spectacle. I sat across from him, next to the dark-haired Hannah, and watched in amusement.

"Kai, what was up with you this morning?" Morris questioned, stuffing a cheeseburger in his mouth.

Zach glanced up from his food, nodding. "You seemed pissed when you walked in."

"This one," I pointed my fork at Black*Star with a glare, "Decided his pig wasn't strong enough to wrestle with and set up an obstacle course in the hallway, complete with tripwires, a falling coffee table, and feather pillows accompanied by sticky substances. The pig didn't go through the obstacle course."

"Ouch," even Ian winced a little bit.

"It was your own fault!" Black*Star smirked, "Maybe if you were stronger you would have gotten through!"

Irritation spiked in my chest, my eyes narrowing on his. "Who the fuck sets up an obstacle course in the frickin' hallway just to get stronger when they're sober?"

Rose giggled, "She has a point, Black*Star. It does seem a little silly."

Sulkily, Black*Star glared right back at me, "That's why I'm going to surpass god and why you're never going to be a death scythe: you don't have the skill I've got."

Onto my feet I went, all warm fuzzies for my meister burning up in a fire of fury. My nails scraped across the table as my hands made tight fists. Right arm completely taken by a buzzing sensation that occurred when I was close to transforming, I dared him silently to say anything, do anything, that would give me a reason to slash him to pieces right then and there. Balanced on my toes, I was ready to attack.

Despite my silent warning, he continued to speak. "I don't even know if you have the skill it takes to be a death scythe. All you are is a wannabe, not a star."

"Take it back," I threatened in a low voice, practically spitting in my rage.

My meister stood as well, slowly, his eyes full of a challenge. "Angry, Kai?"

"Violently!"

Snarling, I leaped over the table and crashed into my meister, my fist raised for the first punch. A hand caught mine while Black*Star flipped us over, his weight slamming down on mine just as my other hand barreled into his stomach. My wrist and knuckles ached from the impact, but the wind was knocked out of him and he lost himself just enough that I was able to wiggle my way out from under him and attempt to slam my heel into his face.

My ankle twisted painfully in his hand, his soul wavelength lashing out at mine. As I felt him reach out, I changed the wavelength of my soul and absorbed the impact, taking my own strength and then attacking with a different wavelength all together. Black*Star's back arched in pain and he went slack, his grip loosening around my foot as I scrambled away and to my feet.

"Guys, not in the lunch room!" Ian whined, peeking from behind his hands.

Rose smacked his shoulder, popping a piece of broccoli in her mouth as if it were popcorn. "Shuttup, Ian! This is getting good!"

We stood across from each other, practically entire the lunchroom watching, both our chests heaving. I put my weight on my ankle and tears filled my eyes before I blinked quickly to get rid of them. Black*Star was sporting two parallel scratch marks on his cheekbone where I'd gotten a good length of skin, nearly reaching all the way to his chin. I was hurt – inside and out – and angry and all I wanted to do was pound that annoying boy into the ground. Instead, we just stood there facing each other, both of us holding onto our pain and rage and bottling it up for the sake of our partnership because we knew: this was not how a weapon and a meister were supposed to act. This is why, when Black*Star offered me his hand with a grunt, I took it and pretended that he hadn't caused me any sort of pain, hadn't made me feel smaller than a bug on the floor that he'd ecstatically squash if he wasn't forced to keep alive.

Just like that, we sat back down. Unfortunately, I had to go all the way around the long banquet-style table just to get to my own spot, so it was a painful walk of shame in which I tried my best not to limp and those around me tried to be as obvious as humanly possible in their observation of me. The seat felt like a miracle when I sat down and started silently shoving as much food in my mouth as I could without puking. Bile rose in my throat like an elevator of mass destruction, burning at the misery foodstuff I tried to choke down, but I pretended like I didn't want to hurl and continued with my rapid consumption to distract myself from what I was feeling. It was entirely stupid and immature and I wanted more than anything to stop, but I couldn't help but feel sick with myself so why not?

To sum it up: I was falling back into old, pre-Warren habits. Later I was probably going to give into the second part of my old tradition and dispose of it all, but I couldn't think of that right now.

It wasn't until all the food on my tray was gone did I realize just how soon I was going to continue with my old practice, but my body immediately fell into the groove and suddenly I was excusing myself from the table and continuing with my pitiful existence. I went and cried in the bathroom, vomiting as well, and memories of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy surfacing. Shadows of a father who had been ashamed of his freak of a second daughter and smacked her around because he'd thought she couldn't fight back. The same sliminess, the same disgust with myself was crawling over my skin and I was left wondering how the hell I'd returned to this place.

Weapons were viewed differently where I'd come from, the rules were different. My tiny Scottish town had hated my mother's abilities and had driven her to depression. I had been so young when she'd left – I hadn't come into my own ability yet. Then, when I'd reached maturity, my father had tried so hard to keep it secret. He had been ashamed.

I didn't have to worry about that anymore.

I was done. I wiped my mouth, pushed myself off of the ground, and straightened my clothes. The toilet flushed, washing away evidence of my breakdown, and I went out to the sink and cupped my hands for some water to rinse out the taste in my mouth. My own steel gray eyes met my reflection's, seeing the way they weren't even red though I'd been sobbing silently for five minutes, though they were slightly swollen. I felt absolutely disgusted and confused, hating myself for returning to my old ways.

It was weak. It couldn't happen again. Not because of Black*Star; not because of anyone. No matter how painful the memories got.

How much time has it been since I have thought of my father, I thought silently as I stared at the girl in the mirror. Already she was repairing herself. Her expression was one of silent determination, her eyes retaining some of the same haunted look she used to always wear. My life at the DWMAA had effectively pushed away my past with the help of Warren, erasing my scars with the illusion that life was better when you were killing with a purpose. They took a troubled child and put gloves over her bloodstained hands to pretend she wasn't a monster. Upon my acceptance into this school I'd let them smooth me over. I enjoyed pretending that I was a perfectly sane, perfectly unmarred soul, but the fact was: I wasn't.

An idea overtook me and I fogged up the glass with my breath, needing to talk to Warren. The fact that mirrors shattered whenever I had recently attempted to speak to him momentarily escaped my mind as I wrote his number in the glass and waited, only realizing my mistake when the inky black shadow spread throughout the surface. Panic flew through me as I stared wide-eyed at the full-sized mirror and, a split second before the break, hit the deck.

The crash was louder than it had ever been, and more vicious. Shards embedded themselves into the tiles of the opposite wall, others rained down on me and slashed at my skin as their sharp edges scraped across my neck. They covered me like a prickly blanket, so much so that I had to force myself not to move because I was afraid I would impale myself on one of the nearby pieces. I hissed as I felt some of the tinier pieces land in my hair, on my skin, cutting miniscule little gashes that hurt like bee stings.

A wind erupted through the room, smelling of salty air and bringing the sound of waves. A high keening noise vibrated my eardrums, my neck twisting in a foolish attempt to shield myself from the sound. I looked up, trying to see my way out of the craziness that had enveloped me, but instead saw that I was the center of a freak wind storm. The bathroom stall doors slammed loudly, snapping open and shut like reaching jaws. Tiles ripped off of the walls, combining with a strange vapor that tasted like seawater in my mouth and burned like acid in my eyes. I couldn't do anything but stare, caught without a meister or an opponent.

"Stay away…"

I tried to turn, but there was no one behind me, no on even near me.

"Kai?"

This is when I blinked, thoroughly confused and shaken. The bathroom was just as it should have been, not a thing out of order except for the singular broken mirror. My hands were braced against the ground in pools of blood, a few scratches welling up as well. Black*Star, seeming rather concerned, just stood there and watched me like I was an animal that should be approached slowly.

Staring at the scene before me, I didn't even know what to say. Shards of glass tumbled from my hair and shoulders as I stumbled to my feet, at once feeling dizzy. My feet nearly went out from under me, but Black*Star appeared and supported me as we walked out of the bathroom. Head spinning, stomach churning, I very nearly asked him to take me back in there so I could lose what was left of my lunch, but my body returned to normal after we exited the bathroom. It was as if a spell had been broken – I quickly pushed away from Black*Star (who I was still mad at) and stood on my own two feet for a moment. Confusion and suspicion darted through my mind as I glanced back at the mess, my eyes cool and calculating.

"Kishin hunting will do me some good," I mumbled, half reassuring myself and half reassuring my meister. "Let's go catch that plane, okay?"

"Alright," Black*Star cheered, but I detected a flash of worry in his normally so-sure attitude.

"I'm fine," I said, this time putting my strength behind my words, "Grab your bags and let's go!"