Description: ...because trying to hold a conversation with K' is pretty much analogous to tightrope walking. After the fight with Cherise, Kentou gets grudgingly peeled off the concrete by K', who subjects the boy to a curt questioning as to what the wireslinger wanted; and in replying, Kentou unwittingly hits on a topic that gets K' a little upset.
In Southtown.. This is not an uncommon sight.
In any other city, sirens would be blaring and paramedics would be on the scene immediately with a ring of concerned pedestrians milling about and staring with quiet murmurs at the rescue team while police begin taking statements and evidence.
In Southtown? People are just trying not to trip over the prone body.
Not twenty feet from the Youth Center lies Kentou Ondori. His limbs akimbo with his torso rolled slightly on his side. Head lolled awkwardly with his long braids stretched out from his collapsed form upon the cold asphalt. His body raked with dozens of burning lashes, still smoldering in places. The pavement around him cracked and buckled beneath the force of the blow that ultimately felled the youth.
Only the stirrings of pebbles and tiny debris in front of his bloodied nose is any indication he's still alive.
And the people? Keep to themselves. Hugging their coats tighter as they attempt to roam in pack-like formations. Nobody wants to be out alone at night in downtown Southtown. Nobody.
Eventually, of course, sooner or later someone from the Youth Center will emerge and take notice of the boy. When that will be... Who that will be.. Only time will tell..
Eventually, notice comes. But it doesn't come from within the Center. Not this time. This night, relief comes in the unlikely form of a tall, long-legged young man, one so dark in complexion and dress as to be nearly indistinguishable from the gathering night. His demeanor one of pulled-in, standoffish reserve that could easily be mistaken for susceptibility to cold, but is in reality just self-absorbed thought, K' comes loping down the sidewalk at a casual, steadily-quick pace. His bike he left parked some distance away, someplace he could actually chain it to something the local nightlife couldn't simply pick up and take with the vehicle.
It's his habit to come and go from the Center as he pleases, sometimes showing at ludicrously early hours-- sometimes not appearing until after the sun's long set. He had figured his randomness might perhaps be efficacious, given the infrequent and unpredictable nature of attacks on the Center precipitated by people powerful enough that his intervention was required. His first indication that it's not comes when he finds himself standing in Kentou's blood.
K' frowns absently down at the young boy's prone form, as if it had personally affronted him in some manner. He's visibly considering some rather troubling things, the erstwhile experiment not usually unwise enough to let himself think too hard-- but finding it hard -not- to in this situation. He thinks it over, seemingly unaware that society generally frowns upon those who actually need to think about rendering aid to a child.
Then, of course, he notices the manner in which Kentou is mangled. The peculiar slashes still sizzled with a telltale pattern of energy. K''s eyes half-lid. Heaving a sigh, he leans down to pick the kid up out of his blood. A brief flicker of fire bangles his ankles as he steps away, searing the pavement clean of blood in an instant of light.
About an hour later, K' is still moodily sitting in a chair by Kentou's bed, primarily due to a lack of anything else to do: and due to the fact he has some questions to ask of the boy, whenever he regains consciousness. The scant staff peopling the infirmary at this hour have already treated Kentou as best they could, and have retired: leaving the irritable-looking young man alone with his unlikely charge. K' looks, for all the fact that he has already made such a generous concession as to actually stick around this long, spectacularly disinterested in the beaten boy not a foot distant from his person.
In fact, he's not paying attention to Kentou at all. He's musing over a cigarette, letting it sit idly in his mouth like some sort of point for him to focus upon. The little cylinder, rarely seen in K''s lips unless he's -really- troubled or needs to actually think about something, profusely smokes up the little infirmary, establishing even further the fact that K''s willful flouting of social niceties knows no bounds.
Of course, the local nightlife have come to learn who's bike is who's.
Reputation, while sometimes dangerous, does come with its perks. When one is known to be a ruthless beast that even the thugs of Southtown fear.. They tend to leave one's ride alone.
Of course, what passes for 'society' in Southtown would hardly begrudge K' his hesitation. Afterall, its not like many other passersby are even looking at the boy's form in a measure of thought. Nobody wants trouble, nobody invites trouble.
The boy is easily hefted. His limbs dangling from the Beast's arms with his head drooping to the side limply. The kid weighs, perhaps, a fraction more than his size suggests. His muscle tone, for a boy his age, is very excellent. That said.. He's a bundle of feathers compared to K-Dash's strength.
Time passes.
Why does the world smell like burning socks?
That's the first question that enters the boy's mind as consciousness rears its ugly head. The boy's face, laden with a few band-aids and white cloth wrapped around his brow in the manner of a headband, shifts from innocent sleep to scrunching up in clear discomfort. A soft grumble escapes his throat as his head tosses this way and that.. Fighting a terrible urge to sneeze at that horrible odor.
Wait... where is he?
With a shocked gasp of air, Kentou bolts upwards. Sitting upright for perhaps two seconds before instantly flopping back down with a yelp. "ACK! Aaaag.."
Kentou's muscles tense a moment, feeling the wracking pain from his bandages across his body. He's been beaten up before... But being scourged by burning energy into unconsciousness is a sensation altogether new. And not a welcome one.
"Wher ..wha.." Groggily, mousy eyes squint open. Wetness blurring his vision as he tries to take stock of his surroundings. The feel of the blanket under his hands and the white interior suggests the Youth Center Infirmary.. But the smell is all wrong.
As his eyes focus upon the source of that stench, Kentou's expression falters. Clearly surprised to see this man in particular, as memories of recent events begin to replay in his mind.
He was.. waiting for him here? What? How long was he out?
".....H... hi?" Kentou posits lamely, lifting an aching hand to wave pope-like as the corner of his lip quirks into a confused half-smile..
It's true most of the entrenched wildlife of this part of town have learned -not- to mess with this particular vehicle. Nonetheless, sometimes you get the occasional traveler or complete idiot, and K' lacks the patience or the time to teach everyone the lessons in life which they so richly deserve. As for the trouble inherent in actually stopping to regard someone who's obviously gotten trashed... well, K' doesn't worry much about that, either. Most of the people who could mess with him in any appreciable manner already have other, more dire things on their mind.
The first thing that rouses K' out of his own thoughts-- even if the experiment doesn't evince much reaction to it-- is the minute movement that accompanies his slow awakening to consciousness. And to the pain. Indifferent to Ondori's discomfort-- including that which he himself is generating-- K' simply waits for the kid to get over his surprise and get into a bit more of a useful state.
K''s left hand lifts idly, holding the cigarette close by his knuckles as he finishes it off. The result of this rather defensive-looking manner of holding the little cylinder? Much of the lower half of his face gets obscured, leaving only those intimidating yellow eyes as any indication of his mood. When Kentou's greeting eventually breaks the silence, it doesn't provoke much more than a casual sideglance from those eyes: reminiscent enough of a hawk's to carry a startling intensity. Direct and cold, the former agent considers Kentou wordlessly for a few moments.
Eventually, Kentou gets a noncommittal grunt out of the older boy for his pains, K' flicking his gaze away as he removes the spent cigarette and puts the burning end of it out, crushing it against the palm of his gloved hand. If any of that heat transmits through the metal enough to cause pain, it doesn't show. "So." The young man's voice rasps harshly, partially from not being used to the smoke-- he's not a frequent smoker by any means-- and partially just due to that being the way his voice is. "The hell did she want?" A long pause, as K' regards Kentou critically. "...and why'd she bother with -you-? You piss her off?"
Oh K', you card. There's a reason for the question, though. He'd like to know whether she was provoked, or whether it's her impression she can attack whoever the hell she wants at -his- place: a place where he's determined he won't permit it.
It suddenly dawns on Kentou.
...He... he may have just beat up K's girlfriend..
It would certainly explain why this intimidating fellow is staring at him like that!
Kentou, possessing all the intimidating fury of a brave little mouse, slowly reclines back in his bed. Perhaps subconsciously hoping even that little extra distance may make a whit of difference if the biker lunges for him at top speed.
The tense moment is broken up as the boy wonder hacks lightly. A fist moving to his lips as his shoulders jostle briskly with quiet coughing. Ugh.. The smoke is making his eyes water. His guardian Ol' Sak smokes occasionally, but always lighter tobacco in that old pipe of his.
The boy would tell the older punk to cut it out, buuuut he's fearing for personal safety at the moment. Hardly in a position to repulse an attack, and from what he knows... He doubt he'd last long against this guy anyway.
Wide eyes shift about as the beast finally offers the abrupt question, "...Uuhh.." Thoughts swirling behind his eyes as he considers his response very, veeeery carefully. If that was his girlfriend, albeit a veeeeeery mean one, certain details he perhaps should not be voluntarily forthcoming upon for the moment.
A slow swallow as the boy speaks up, "..She.. asked me where you were.." His eyes drifting a moment as he recalls the scene in his head.
"...I didn't tell her.." The memory of turning his back to her, dismissing her question. Then the world going white with an abrupt pain in the side of his head.. The fight starting from there in earnest..
"...I guess.. that made her real, real mad.."
If K' ever got a girlfriend-- ever -wanted- to have one, even-- he'd certainly be upset if people came around and started beating them up, no matter whether it was the girl's fault in the first place. Kentou's concerns are not entirely misplaced. Fortunately, Cherise isn't K''s girlfriend, and he has no intention of her -ever- being associated with him in that manner.
Nonetheless, the thought that Kentou might believe Cherise to be his girlfriend doesn't occur to him. K' doesn't even know Cherise is walking around calling herself such, or else he'd seek her out and (refuse to) kick her through walls until she stopped. As such, he doesn't cotton on to the real reason Kentou's choosing his words so carefully. The way Kentou drags his feet responding is, thereby, little more than an irritation that causes his eyes to narrow just that much more. That is, up until the answer finally comes.
K' leans back slowly in his seat, mulling over the response. His head dips lazily, tilting slightly to one side, long bangs eventually coming to obscure his eyes. After a moment, a truly strange thing happens. An unusual sound breaks the quiet. K'... starts laughing.
The sound is extremely rare, to be sure. K' isn't the sort to laugh. He doesn't even smile much, for that matter. In fact, truth be told, anyone who's around K' for any length of time will soon realize that a smile is just an indication his mood's gone straight into the trash. He's really like a beast in that way; the expression's only ever used in order to threaten dire harm. As for laughter... well, who knows. Kentou will certainly find out within the next two or three seconds.
"Crazy bitch," K' expresses irritably, but not without some morbid sort of amusement. Albeit the sort of paternal amusement one might show a dog that just keeps chewing on the furniture. "Beat the shit out of her twice and she still wants more. Well. Why didn't you just tell her?" His yellow gaze rakes back towards Kentou, though his head doesn't move. K' regards the younger boy out of the corner of his eyes. "Would have saved you a good beating, looks like." His gaze darkens, a little dangerously, eyes narrowing in an unpredictable sort of way. "Would have saved me wasting my time dragging your ass in here." A shrug, as K' kicks back even more negligently in his seat and shoves his heels moodily outwards in a lounge. "Though granted, I'd still have to waste my time taking -her- to the hospital again... guess it evens out."
Once again, misunderstandings abound as the harsh-looking man actually starts.. to laugh?
The tension slowly begins to ease from Kentou's shoulders, desperate enough to assume the sound to be genuine as his own expression dares to smile, little by little. While the boy isn't about to approve of his choice of words.. Kentou will admit the words are about on the money.
A soft shudder runs down his spine as he remembers those eyes mostly. He's only seen eyes like that once before in his entire life. Eyes of pure madness within a pretty package. At least this confirms that the girl is most certainly NOT a significant other to this guy, and the notion relieves the boy greatly.
FWEW. Bullet, dodged.
However, as the youth's expression begins to sag, he perks up as the man has a second question.
A vapid blink. Kentou.. Doesn't even seem to understand the query.
Only after a fashion the boy begins to venture, "W..Well. I.. I had a hunch she was up to no good.." Stiffing that bus driver was the first clue. Calling him names was the second. ...Looking like she had a small armory worth of weapons in that trench-coat about sealed the theory in his head, ".. Didn't want to get you in.. you know.. trouble or anything.." Tilting his head this way and that, dismissive of the protective gesture over a total stranger.
Brown eyes look over his bandaged arms, feeling the sting of her wires yet across his skin. Flinching in memory of that coup de grace in the end.. But similarly remembering her recoil from his strikes. Finally mastering the Soushou Shin technique taught by Hotaru-sensei.. The Ondori master technique sending her flying. With a tilt of his head, the little warrior simply adds, "..She was strong.." His lips even dare to quietly turn into a soft smile, "...It was a good fight."
No.. He doesn't regret it. Getting one's 'butt kicked' is just the price you pay to live in this town. To be a fighter, as he once told Mizuki. Honor is all that matters.
And the Honorable thing was to not give an inch to someone who was evil.
"..Yeah.." Kentou finally adds as he closes his eyes and grins, "..It does even out.."
The humor is not meant to soothe, even if Kentou takes it that way. It's essentially K' amusing himself at the sheer predictability and singlemindedness of Cherise Bouchard. Nonetheless, K' doesn't notice if Kentou seems relaxed by it. He doesn't bother much with noticing Kentou at all-- at least, not until the boy answers his question. K' gets pretty damn still after that, his breathing quieting down to nothing: his lean frame draining of motion.
Beyond the obvious things wrong with that reasoning-- he's /here/, being paid, to stop people up to no good himself, not let one of the kids get mangled trying-- K' finds himself extremely irritated by the tone of Kentou's voice. At first, he gives no warning of his displeasure, his legendary tendency to switch moods at the drop of a hat leaving no trace of its sudden surfacing; but then, in the next moment, he's suddenly standing. And looming, to great effect, over the poor bedridden boy with a barely-repressed, intense violence reined back in his yellow eyes. His next words get growled, a hint of smoke still roughening his deep snarl.
"I don't need a kid looking out for me. Deciding what's best for me. And I don't appreciate your need to involve yourself in my business." K' leans over a bit, simultaneously upping the threat and putting emphasis on his conclusion: his vehement objections a clear sign he has a severe problem with anything that strips his ability to decide things himself. "You want to get yourself killed over your own problems, fine. But next time, you let me handle my own shit."
It's not really to be mistaken for moral uprightness. Nor is it to be confused with a desire to protect Kentou, nor any sort of warped gratitude towards the boy. It's the genuine irritation of a willfully insolent, independent young man taking grave issue with someone walking around making decisions for him and sanctimoniously 'keeping him out of trouble.' And beyond that particular annoyance, K' is just not interested in bothering with the conundrum of 'owing' people anything. Nor does he like having to deal with the weird, barely-there disquiet that arises from seeing somebody take a fall for him; a sensation which he, not being a moral person in the slightest due to his depraved upbringing, does not understand and does not like. Lastly... he's just not interested in letting other people poke their noses into his affairs.
He'll handle it himself, or not at all. He won't have intermediaries deciding a damn thing for him.
Kentou's moment of serenity is destroyed in a flash as the beast is on his feet and growling. The shocked boy's attention snaps to him with wide, glimmering eyes as he listens to the roaring tirade. While such an abrupt shift of anger would be enough to send the boy scurrying for a better defensive position, pain from his previous ordeal holds him fast. That.. and something else. The youth pales before the anger billowing from the man's raging lips. While the tone of the words makes him feel the target... The actual words suggest something different.
Ultimately, the puzzled boy can only sit upon his infirmary bed, white as a sheet while finally managing to clamp his jaw shut with an audible 'clomp'.
What the heck can he say to that? He's furious because... Kentou did him a favor?
Favors make people angry? ... What? Does not compute. What is he even mad about? The boy suspects that the true source of this anger isn't REALLY that he spared K' another encounter with his personal stalker. The boy can sense there's something else behind the rant. Mousy eyes shifting back and forth searchingly, struggling for comprehension.
"...Okay.." The boy quietly lies. Trembling voice harboring reservation, but he won't talk back. Kentou doesn't regret what he did, and he'd do it again if the chance arises. This mental decision bolsters his determination, hardening his jaw in a fractional semblance of defiance.
As the tense quiet continues, when K' seems he's about to turn with his point made. Only then does the boy pipe up in a small, quiet tone, "..Don't think.."
The sentence hanging a moment on the tip of his tongue. Swallowing softly as he weighs the words, "..Don't think you'll.. Leave the same.. as you came here.." The cryptic little statement is met with a knowing half-smile.
If there is anything Kentou knows to be true about the Youth Center.. It is this.
K' has a lot of problems. A lot of them revolve around the concept of autonomy and lack thereof. Some around physical contact. A number around control and identity. The usual subset of issues one gets when one's raised as a lab rat... and then some. Kentou just touched on at least one of them.
Indifferent to Kentou's puzzlement, shock, or fear-- or perhaps actually, in some perverse way, mollified by that trembling acquiescence to his demand-- K' leans back on his heels into a less threatening stance as an echoing silence descends. His scathing glare stays locked with Kentou's eyes, less because he actually likes keeping eye contact and more because he's aware a direct stare is generally effective at intimidating people into submission. It's cruel, and it runs counter to all the commonly-held beliefs about how people should act towards one another, but K' sure does derive a whole lot of satisfaction from scaring people into shutting up. It's not like he -ever- got to feel much control over anything when he was with NESTS, after all.
And he seems to have gotten what he wanted, in that regard. Kentou complies and, ultimately, falls into silence. With a dismissive 'che,' K' does indeed seem about to leave, the boy turning roughly away... but then, Kentou actually gets the nerve to speak up again. And K' pauses, his back turned-- but nonetheless, for whatever reason, still compelled to listen.
"...You don't know the first thing about me," K' starts calmly; though the evenness of his voice is clearly not representative of his mood. The result is a sharp contrast between 'safe' and 'dangerous,' not unlike a clear sky stretching windlessly over the sea. "So I suggest you don't try speculating. I get enough of that from the other people around here."
Half a beat. K' glances over his shoulder. "Though in some way, you're right." He half-turns back towards Kentou, shoving his hands in his pockets. That cold, yellow-eyed gaze returns to the younger boy's, perhaps to his grief. "Cause I'm gonna leave here with a considerably longer list of things I know I hate."
It is true that Kentou has no idea what its like to hate. The boy.. really doesn't hate anyone or anything.
..Well.. One person, but the boy doesn't even know whom it is. Without a name or face to give that reality.. Its more of a fleeting concept of what he might feel should it ever reveal itself.
Perhaps Kentou doesn't know the first thing about this man, but.. He's already gleaned a few things. The boy is often injudicious... but he is very observant. And what he observes is not unfamiliar.
Images of memories flood Kentou's thoughts. Of the young kid first coming to the Youth Center. Fighting absolutely everybody, challenging all the weaklings, demanding that they show him what they got. Dismissing Hotaru as some weakling girl..
Even as K' rages, the boy's eyes descend a bit. Subdued, in part cowed by the vehemence that K-Dash displays. However, also in part.. because he remembers being like that. Thinking he needed nothing and nobody except his fists.
It didn't take long to realize the truth while being in this place. The Youth Center is far more than just a place where children can learn discipline in often very chaotic and stressful lives. ....But for some, perhaps a place of redemption.
Or the promise of finding a better life, even when you weren't looking for one?
Of course, Kentou could try to argue with K'. Offer his own speculations on this, but that would just incense the man further. Besides.. It isn't Kentou's place to say. He has a feeling though, that the beast of flame may come to realize this sooner or later.. In his own good time when he's ready. Until then.. clearly.. the guy's working through an awful lot of issues. And doing anything that might chase him away from the one place in this ruthless town where he could find the answers .. well, Kentou won't be doing that.
"..Y..you're probably right.. Um.." The boy murmurs quietly, eyes flitting up nervously a few times as he peeks out from beneath his bushy bangs, "..I.. um.. Didn't get your name, sir?"
The boy never did hear it. People just kept saying 'Okay' all the time when they were talking about him. What is up with that, anyway?
K' is all too familiar with what it is to hate. In fact, one could say that hatred is virtually all that drives him. Hatred, spite, a need for vengeance: all of those take a far greater precedence in his mind than the more benign goals that come incident with a full-fledged crusade against NESTS. In fact, the only motivation he has which stands largely free from that anger that suffuses him is the desire to remember. The rest of his motives are self-absorbed, hate-filled... desires that will be satisfied by nothing but destruction. And it's not hard to tell all this, just from looking at him: from listening to how he talks, and what he talks about. When he talks at all.
Now... he's aware already that most of the people here frown on the mindset of 'needing nobody'... but to be honest, K' has already learned the lesson that sometimes it's okay to rely on people. It's just that to date, only Maxima has ever made it past K''s extremely stringent qualifications to attain that level of trust. The rest of mankind? K' isn't really capable of relying on anyone else in a meaningful manner. They just get classed as 'having their potential uses.' And K' certainly doesn't shy from using others for his own means. Admitting that without their 'contributions,' he couldn't have done things he's accomplished to date.
He's not big on people doing things for him unasked, though. He doesn't trust kindness. He doesn't like people doing things for him.
Stance rife with aggressive confrontationalism, his slight lean forwards a wordless dare for Kentou to just -try- and keep talking back to him, K' regards Kentou as the boy wisely opts just to... essentially sit back and say "Okay." Even if he doesn't really mean it. K' has his suspicions as to what's really going on under that mop of hair, but he's not interested in figuring out what they are. It's good enough for him that Kentou just keeps his mouth shut and nods.
Straightening up, K' huffs out a scornful breath as Kentou stutters and murmurs out that halting acquiescence-- and then asks for his name. A flicker of bitterness enters his eyes as he finds himself having to pause at the question, unsure of how to answer-- and he turns away again. "...che. She didn't mention it? I guess you'd find it out from a fight tape or TV anyway. Or someone around here. K-dash. K if you're lazy." A dismissive lift of a shoulder. "And before you bother, I don't care what yours is. In the unlikely event I do, I can find out."
...Kadish? Kadiche?
What kind of weird foreigner name is that? But then, all foreign names sound utterly bizarre to the boy anyway. Although, as he mentions 'K' for short, the youth's gaze turns downward as his cheeks fluster lightly in remembered embarrassment.
Oh.. So they weren't just saying 'Oh-Kay' after all. Ahem..
While certainly anger seems to drive him, now that Kentou knows the truth behind K's visit... Well. The youth is sticking to his initial conjecture, no matter how the dark-skinned man tries to deny it.
Anger is only part of being human. There are other things, other important pieces. While they can be ignored for a time, they cannot be denied in the end. Kentou has.. only begun to figure that out for himself.
Because of this ignorance, the youth indeed does not talk back to the Beast. Allowing his point to go without conflict, for now. Although.. As the young man blatantly tells the kid he doesn't want to hear it, a small smile dares to crease his small lips as he blurts out, "It's Kentou."
Oh no! Another thing K' specifically didn't ask for but got anyway! The boy is such a rebel!
But, doesn't keep the man any longer and asks no further questions or gives the thanks that he really wants to say.
Thanks? Of course. Thanks for checking in on him. A gesture that.. Perhaps K' doesn't even understand, but the boy thinks he knows.
Saaaa... Old people are confusing sometimes. ._.
What truth behind K''s visit?! All he wanted was to figure out what the hell Cherise wanted from him: why she came, and why she felt the need to be thrashing people while on -his- territory. Regardless of whether he actually -likes- said people, it's still something he's not entirely willing to permit the wireslinging girl to do. He's not supposed to be allowing such things to happen around here, after all... and whatever else you can say about K', he does not tolerate poor performance from anyone: least of all himself.
K' is halfway to the door by the time Kentou blurts out his name. His pace slowing slightly, K' flashes a sharp look over his shoulder. For a few tense moments, it's uncertain whether the volatile, unpredictable young man will snap again; but after a lengthy pause, K' seems to decide he doesn't care. Perhaps one rebel can recognize another. Perhaps he just can't be arsed. Whichever it is, Kentou doesn't get his head bitten off.
All he gets is a scoff, as K' looks back forwards. "...whatever," he shrugs, before he finally makes good on his escape.
Log created on 22:47:50 01/17/2008 by K', and last modified on 01:36:01 01/21/2008.