This, thought Tsurara Kenjirou, just had to be one of the stupidest situations he'd ever found himself to be in his entire life.
And he'd found himself in several such situations, ever since a pair of very miffed social workers (he assumed) had dropped a small grimy girlish brat right at his family estate doorsteps and had insisted, upon pain of utter humiliation via gossip grapeline, that the family take the brat in Right Now Soonest.
And he still couldn't figure out just how they happened to be related, anyhow. It seemed to involve several relatives he'd never even heard of, and it wasn't like he had his elder brother's resources... Though at least they didn't seem to be closely related. He'd couldn't have borne it if Ha-- Hanaoka had turned out to be yet another half-sib or something.
It was bad enough that he actually was related to the most girly-ish of the girly, after all...
"--Hanaoka, come on! You could always take the mid-terms again, you know that!"
It wasn't like the idiot hadn't been studying. Hanaoka managed to get quite good grades when he actually managed to attend classes and take tests, which did explain why his grades weren't even worse then they were...
"...Come on. I'll go talk to the Teachs with you, all right?"
He had to be here. Hanaoka always came and moped by the riverside when things went wrong...
The riverside. Lunchs, barbeques, Hanaoka grabbing yakitori, broken Super Sentai toys shut up in a box now ("Are you better, Ken-chan?" "Why'd you always call me Ken-chan, nii-san's a Ken too, you know..." "That's different")
He had to be here, damnit. Had to be.
Cuts classes all the time, can't be bothered to take major tests--He'd always been a handfull but it was getting plain ridiculous.
Plus, a couple of days ago, he'd been...limping.
What the hell was that about? Why wouldn't he tell him?
Hanaoka was a bloody scrapper, and fought as mean as he was pretty, as several would-be bullies had discovered to their sorrow... So it couldn't be something a simple as bullying.
Could it?
Where the hell was he?
And just why was it so...
Cold.
It was early summer, damnit.
The cold swirled. Covered with...
Flower petals.
Students and old people, colapsed on the ground. Like broken dolls. A postman, flung on his back, mouth open.
Tsurara Kenjirou looked up. And up.
Into the maelstorm.
Where his cousin danced against the monster.
Damn. What was Ken-ch---Kenji doing here? Stupid good-doer.
Why couldn't he stay home?
Well, at least he couldn't recognize---
Ahh, no time for that now. Blasted stupid monster. It was lodgy with overfeeding for one thing, but on the other hand it had enough energy to burn, and if he made it use up too much of it, there wouldn't be enough to go trickling back to their real owners---
And that was when the monster started to open. And flower, wider and wider---.
And glow green.
--Welll--Shit!
Monster Flowers?
Oh, who cared. None of this was real, could be real, anyway--
Except the wind and flowerpetals, forming into screaming wind-swords--
And--
--And--
"--Hanaoka!"
What the hell? What had happened to all the Recognize-Me-Nots that were supposed to be liberally plastered over this form, anyhow?
"Stay back, you damn fool. Stay out of it!"
Go to good schools, get good jobs, be married to the right woman and be set for life. You deserve it.
--You do.
Really.
"---Haru!"
Ahh. You. Damn. Fool.
Thanks for making me feel sort of not-totally-worthless sometimes, OK?
Hanaoka Haru closed his eyes, and readied Final Strike.
He knew. At that moment, he knew.
His stupid class-cutting girly cousin was going to--
*Do his duty*
--No.
*He told you to stay out of it*
No
*You could just walk away none of this is your fault after all*
No, no, no--
*Why?*
Why?
The weight. A sword. Cold in his hands.
Colder then Grandfathers---
When had he ever held a real sword properly?
But he could feel the weight. And the Ice.
Deep, deep in his heart and soul---
Haru shaking yakitori in his face. Toys. Books. Shaved ice.
*I'm better at math then you are--*
Duty.
Haru.
Tsurara Kenjirou looked up once at the night sky, bidding good-bye to his life and plans up to that point in time.
And followed his cousin into War.
"Damnit, why couldn't you stay out of it?"
"--It was my Duty too, you know that. --Damn idiot."
"Shut up, Kunzite. --Or is it Malachite? It isn't, is it?"
"Come on now, even you should be able to tell the difference--Though it'll be a lark if Nii-san turned out to be ole' Mal, to be sure..."
"No, no, no...Bad thoughts, Kunz, bad thoughts!"
"Awk. All right. Though---Final Strike, Zoicite? And to think that, once upon a time, you actually used to be a student of mine..."
Well, sort of.
Hanaoka Haru pouted.
"It was a modified Final Strike. I would have survived fine, if there was enough energy left over for that."
Neither of them bothered to mention that that that was a rather big if.
"OK, then...and just what are we going to do now?"
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(Posted Fri, 03 Jun 2005 07:12)
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