Description: Having had it out with Kataki physically, Tran decides to have it out with his brother verbally. The good Doctor unexpectedly finds his rage mirrored in Frei's mounting fury and frustration at the situation, but it may be that being incensed is just what the doctor ordered for the monk...
Normally when Frei is on duty at the YFCC, he's upstairs, at the desk. He doesn't do the big punching-kicking-throwing martial arts training; indeed, the only classes he teaches are on meditation and tai chi for flexibility, the only things he feels comfortable with. His classes on chi control went mostly unpopulated once people found out it wasn't all just chanting and waving wands like a Harry Potter book. So he typically mops up the administrative paperwork and such that the other, more 'fighting-oriented' staff don't have time to do.
Today, though, finds him downstairs in the practice area, with a look of determination on his face. For the most part, the center's users are off on their own, doing katas or working out, chatting and talking, enjoying as normal. A small group, though, are against the wall and watching Frei. Two are from his tai chi class; another is someone he tends to say hello to when she walks in to do exercises. And all three are whispering that it seems like the monk is a man possessed today.
One of the rare few that have the ability to empower their normal punches and kicks with chi energy, watching Frei do 'katas' (in the loosest sense of the term) is already a fascinating lightshow, like watching a raver with five colors of glowstick taped to his hands. Currently Frei is standing in a 'ready' position, kung fu-like, eyes closed in concentration, not moving.
He suddenly leaps foward, throwing out one arm in a stiff-armed, open palm punch to what would be his opponent's torso. Around his arm, there is a swirl of red flame, like a snake coiled around the blow, that ends in a burst just at the extent of his open palm. The monk holds the pose of the completed punch for a moment, then sighs with disappointment and brings his arm down. The onlookers, seeing a typical Frei punch, seem confused as to his consternation... but he is indeed frustrated with the results, as is evident on his face.
Despite Frei's current dissatisfied mood, it's a pretty nice day. Calm. Tranquil. It's well-suited to quiet introspection, perhaps some light relaxation. It's the sort of day one might describe as being 'lazy'.
"It's the kind of day one man takes as a challenge.
"FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEI!"
The inexplicable sound of revolving doors slamming echoes forth, as Dr. Tran barges into the YFCC's lobby, stalking forward like a man possessed. By a really, /really/ angry ghost. Of course, he doesn't ever come here while /not/ super-pissed, so one could also say it's more or less just business as usual.
Ignoring the nice young lady at the front desk whose name he can't ever remember, Tran makes a beeline straight for the practice area, vision sweeping around for traces of the normally so happy-go-lucky monk. It does not take long for the doctor to reach the edge of the viewing area, look down, and spy his prey.
"FREI, you happy sack of shit! We've gotta talk!" And then Tran leaps over the railing, landing roughly in a flare of coat. Didn't anyone ever teach him to use stairs?
As he stands back up from the pose he was holding, Frei's body has an almost mechanical look to it, like a factory machine resetting itself after performing whatever mind-numbing, menial task was asked of it. He blinks a few times, exhaling a loud breath of annoyance, though as this is happening just as Tran leaps down, it hardly seems as if it could be directed toward the good doctor.
Frei gets to standing up just as Tran lands, and people who've been at the YFCC a long time take an automatic step back. Then they note Tran's apparent mood and take another one right afterwards.
For his part, the monk looks at Tran evenly, head tilted to the side. It's been some time since he'd seen his teammate and tiny furybox, and for a moment he simply takes in Tran's essential Tran-ness, blinking a few more times. That he made an entrance like Batman is a little strange, but as far as he can recall, Frei doesn't remember Tran ever wanting to *talk* about anything in his entire life. In fact, the green eyes actually widen in momentary surprise as Frei realizes that the person who might be able to help him with this is actually right in front of him.
So he shrugs and reaches behind his head, tightening the headband he's wearing. "Alright," he says simply. "What about?"
"Oh, don't give me that 'what about' crap." Tran, more or less completely oblivious at this point to anybody else in the entire YFCC, advances on Frei threateningly. Well, kind of. It's hard to properly intimidate people when you're tiny and they're renowned for being unflappable in the face of whatever the universe might care to throw at them.
Dr. Tran makes a good try of it anyway, going and shoving an accusing finger right up under Frei's chin, totally getting all up in his grill. "Tell me, was it jealousy? Green-faced envy of my wild success? Figured that since I hadn't vanished for good after all, you had to make sure of it? Don't play dumb, just admit it! You hired someone to try to kill me!" Detective Tran cracks another case!
Amused surprise gives way to genuine surprise at that. The comment about envy strikes home rather harder than Frei or Tran might have accounted for, but the idea that the monk would sic anyone on Tran to hurt him, let alone kill him, is so ludicrous that Frei does indeed take a moment to laugh, though it's the sharp, barking laughter of shock and surprise rather than the more gentle tones of someone actually amused. He doesn't seem to recoil from the advance of the furious Tran, nor the finger up in his face, though he does raise one eyebrow at the commentary. After all, it doesn't seem to make a lot of sense.
"You'd be surprised of the things I could be envious about..." Frei starts, voice low and dull, before he shakes his head and gives Tran a serious look. There's one possibility that might actually be distant here, but getting it out of the sargasso of exaggeration that is the typical Tran statement is going to take some work. "Anyhow, I obviously didn't hire someone to try and kill you. Does that sound like something I'd even remotely consider doing, at all?"
There's no break in Tran's anger while Frei talks. It's as if the doctor didn't even hear the man, like he is so blinded by pure FURY that speech is completely failing to register. He just stays there, glaring at Frei, face to neck! He stays silent for several long moments, as if waiting for a response, and then...
"Huh? No, I know you didn't actually do it." In setting a world record for world's fastest verbal 180, Dr. Tran lets his finger drop, his voice now empty of the tidal wave of malice and suspicion that were overtaking it just moments ago.
"Seriously though. How could anyone think you would hire someone to kill, well, anyone? And heck, even if you wanted to, do you even know any assassins for hire? I rest my case." Tran pauses for a second, blinks. "Wait, envious, what?"
The monk's eyes go heavy-lidded for a moment, then he sighs and sort of slumps over backwards, landing on his backside and sitting on the mat he was practicing on, legs apart, arms splayed behind him to hold up his torso, face slumped forward and a bit of red hair dangling into his line of sight, even with the headband. It's as if Tran's sudden, furious entrance was the final blow that knocked the wind and energy right out of him, and in truth Frei really does look *exhausted* on closer inspection. Something atypical, perhaps, from the normally bouncy personality.
There's a pause as Frei runs a hand through his hair, then shakes his head and waves a hand dismissively at Tran. "It's nothing. And I don't know, I guess I'd try the yellow pages or something, you can get anything in Southtown, really..." Finding his mind wandering without him, Frei blinks, then pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again and looking at Tran. "I'm in kind of a rough spot right now, you know? I'm not very focused. What made you charge in here and accuse me, anyway? Boredom?"
Frei may look totally worn, but damn if Dr. Tran will show even the slightest bit of sympathy for him! It'd just be coddling, encourage him to slack around looking all sorry even more, and from there it's just a matter of time until he starts wearing black eyeliner and posting on Livejournal about how nobody understands him. So in essence, Tran charges right ahead with the conversatin as if he didn't notice a damn thing.
"Oh, no. Somebody really did try to kill me, and I kind of want to know who and why." He says it so casually, as if it were an everyday occurance. Despite this, his hand is repeatedly clenching and unclenching, as if he can barely keep himself from commiting some horrid act of brutality against the nearest convenient thing. Or maybe he just had too much coffee. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
At first he says nothing, just stares at Tran long and hard for a moment. It's a two stage process for Frei, because his brain is working on two different tracks. One is trying to figure out what the heck is going on at all... and the other is considering Tran's gestures, his words, and everything he does to express that nameless rage that seems to fill him at all times. Frei himself once joked that Tran's chi manifests as steam because he somehow combined being fiercely emotional with being unrelentingly angry... add fire to water, and you get steam. It's hard not to notice the constant nervous/kinetic curling of the fingers, the making of and releasing of a fist. Something's a little different.
Throwing back his head, Frei keeps his eyes closed and lets out another big sigh. If Tran wanted to say anything specific by now without prompting, he would have; thus, the monk forges ahead with his guess. After all, even if he's *wrong*, Tran probably needs to be warned anyway. Probably. "Let me guess..." Frei says tiredly. "It was a Japanese teenager in purple and black who just happened to throw my name around." His voice is odd, almost as if he knows he's probably right while praying desperately that he is *wrong*.
To be honest, Frei's internal assessment may not be too far off the mark - the simmering anger that pervades most of Tran's life, constantly co-existing with any other emotion he may happen to be feeling... He may have been joking, but it really does make its own sort of sense. But the doctor is not here to think about the nature of his own personality, and through that, his chi. No, he's here's for one reason only...
And there it is. The confirmation! Dr. Tran lets out a small sigh of relief, and then smiles. "Glad I didn't waste my time coming here, then." His hand's stopped in the 'fist' position, but then he puts it into the hand and starts to massage it, cracking the knuckles. He's not even looking at Frei at this point, just kind of staring off into space, a mildly vacant look in his eyes. "So. Where does he live?"
The answer is a long time in coming. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Frei is actually quite impressed with his brother. To find out that Frei is friends with Hotaru or Mizuki, that's not particularly difficult... but to trace the monk's improbable friendship with the creature of rage simmering before him is something else entirely... especially considering that all their public appearances together have involved one beating the bejeezus out of each other. Of course, if he's anything like his mother -- and Frei knows Kataki to be like his mother -- he's a perfectionist. Nothing but the best for his inexplicable campaign against a brother he's neither seen nor spoken to in seven years.
"Kyoto," Frei says at last, pushing both hands into the mat and then forcing himself standing. "At least, that's where I know his permanent residence to be. As for where he is *right now*, I don't have the slightest idea." A pause, and then one hand comes up; Frei grips his forehead, shoving hair out of the way, and looks as much confused as he does resigned. "I was wondering what the deal was on SNF last weekend." So Kataki tried to severely maim yet another of his friends. But in this case Tran's behavior seems to be totally normal (well, normal for Tran), just like Mizuki. Hotaru, on the other hand, was a different story... so why her? What the hell does he want?
"For what it's worth..." Frei starts, bringing his arm down and turning away somewhat, gritting his teeth a bit. "For what it's worth I'm sorry. Blame me, beat me up if you want, I don't care... I don't really know why he's doing what he's doing."
Well, to be fair. Kataki's psychic hooks did dig into Dr. Tran's psyche, albeit briefly - it's just that, well. How could they possibly even have the same level of impact as they did on Hotaru? She's a nice, strong-hearted young girl. Dr. Tran is steaming puddle of anger who hates, at least a little bit, almost everybody he knows. How do you top that?
"What, all the way in Kyoto? Why couldn't he live close, like a proper psychopath? It's always supposed to be someone right in your backyard, practically." Tran frowns, and continues popping knuckles. "Oh well. A challenge can make everything more rewarding in the end." He stays silent for a moment, considering, and then finally he looks down at Frei again. His frown deepens.
"Oh, I do blame you, and I do kinda really want to beat you up right now, but it's not about this. Christ, just looking at you right now is enough of a reason to slug you, you pathetic shit. God, look at yourself. If this is what happens to you if you're not so goddamn annoyingly happy, I'd rather have to suffer through that. Cry more, why don't you." Tran pauses again, part of him trying to think of curse words so he doesn't repeat himself, part of him retracing his own twisted internal logic, so as to better present it. He sighs, and then rubs at his forehead with one hand. Now that he's through the abuse part, he has the rare and ever so unwelcome niggling feeling that he should probably explain himself somehow. "Shit, look, it's like this. Uh..." He trails off into silence again. This may take a while.
In the space, then, Frei fills in the gaps in a rather unexpected way: by turning on Tran in genuine fury, eyes flashing. It's almost as if the beginning of this little meeting were being played in reverse, with the same actors switching roles. Even with his (very slight) height/weight advantage, Frei isn't a very physically imposing person; even when he's incensed, he never seems to give off the impression that he is interested in doing actual physical harm. But as he starts stomping across the mat toward Tran, to get back in in-your-face range, it might be worth noting that the monk has shown him exceptionally capable at dealing *metaphysical* harm, come to that, and perhaps it is only his typically disarming cheerfulness that keeps it in check.
"What the hell do you know about it?!" Frei suddenly bellows, and the boy has got lung capacity if nothing else; the sound rebounds off the walls of the training center in a way that makes *every* head there suddenly snap Frei-and-Tranward. It's as if each step is punctuated by some sort of exclamation from him as he walks closer and closer. "Nothing works! Nice didn't work! Philosophical didn't work! Angry didn't work AND got me beat up!" Another step, another, and his voice is indeed getting louder and, more to the point, less steady the closer he gets. "Yeah, he cut you. It'll heal! What he's doing to me, I can't do anything about! And this is why I'm jealous! Because you get angry and it makes you do something! I get angry and I JUST. GET. CONFUSED!" Finally, he's right in Tran's grill, face flushed with a nameless set of emotions. "I've spent all day trying to do something with how angry I am and it's not working! So leave me the hell alone!"
If one were to make a full, comprehensive list of the things Dr. Tran did not expect to happen today, and it would certainly be a pretty goddamn huge list, Frei getting angry and flipping the hell out would probably be right at the bottom, right between 'develop a healthy love and respect for all of God's creations' and 'beat Alma in a straight fight'. Tran's silence quickly evolves from awkwardly unsure to deer in headlights, before finally settling where it usually does: fuming fury.
Tran lowers his head so that he's looking at the floor, and then his counter begins. It starts off relatively quiet, a stark contrast to Frei's ear-splitting outburst. That should probably be the first warning sign. "What the hell do you mean, what the hell do I know about it?" He looks up, and his entire body is /quivering./ "You're the only one who'd had to deal with shit? The only one who doesn't know what the hell he's doing?"
Abruptly, Tran explodes forward, getting right up in Frei's face by standing on his tiptoes, doing his best to prove that the monk isn't the only one with deceptively powerful lungs. "NEWS FLASH, YOU THUNDERING RETARD! I'M ANGRY ALL THE TIME, AND IT'S LIKE I'M TAPED TO THE FRONT OF A SPEEDING BUS AND THE BUS IS GETTING RAINED ON AND I CAN'T SEE AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE MY STOP IS AND...AND...and...GRAAAAAH!" Tran wheels about and stalks a few paces off, then whirls again, pointing an accusing finger at Frei.
"Because god knows I am a CONSTANT BEACON of sanity and well-thought out action that is always ONE HUNDRED PERCENT EFFECTIVE at solving problems and never, ever, EVER leaves me even angrier than I was before I tried anything! Just fucking grow up and act like a goddamn adult instead of sitting around here moping and feeling sorry for yourself and boo goddamn hoo, and...GOD DAMN IT!" The wheels of efficiency at work, folks. "God damn it, now I don't even know what I'm trying to goddamn say anymore, shit! Aaaaaagh!"
The problem with this scenario is that Frei, *already* jealous of Tran's ability to use his anger, is not listening to anything approaching logic and instead has become something of a mirror. The angrier he gets, the angrier Tran gets, so the angrier he gets. People are actually cowering now, probably because while Frei doesn't know he's doing it -- indeed, Frei's conscious mind is off somewhere having a nice drink while he works this all out for a second time on an emotional level -- his emotions are resonating with his aura, which is resonating with the air. Which is to say, that fiery battle aura thing they sometimes use in anime to prove people are seriously cheesed off? It's actually happening to Frei, only it's not a special effect, *he really is radiating chi flame*.
"Yeah, 'cause the way I've been up until now has helped me avoid 100% of psychotic family members trying to cut my friends IN HALF?!" Frei bellows, pointing one hand at Tran accusingly, as if it's somehow HIS FAULT that Kataki attacked him. "What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?! You got mad and you came and you said something! TO ME! I don't feel sorry for myself, I just don't know how to fix things! Maybe someone needs to just kill him! BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE HE'S FAMILY, UNDERSTAND?!"
It's somewhat flattering, overly much so in fact, to describe what Tran is saying as 'anything approaching logic'. Let's be honest here: Dr. Tran is not the kind of guy to apply man's greatest of gifts, reason, to the greater majority of situations, least of all one where he is completely super-pissed. So super-pissed, in fact, that he doesn't even notice Frei's anger aura. Hell, if Tran didn't reflexively bottle his own chi like there was danger of a chi draught looming on the horizon, there's a good chance that he would be completely obscured by a cloud of it at this point.
"WHY DO YOU THINK I WANTED TO KNOW WHERE HE WAS!? I didn't come here to ask you to fix shit! If you're so worried about it all, if you think maybe he should die, fine! That's why I came here, so I could find the shithead and kill him! There! Problem solved!" Tran continues glaring at Frei for a moment, unable to think of anything further to say as the realization that he just threatened to kill the man's brother slowly sinks in. Really, where do you even go from there?
The monk actually opens his mouth to say something back to Tran, and is cut off by a shout, maybe even a bit of a yelp or shriek. Frei's head whips around to see what the hell it was, features still contorted in anger, still wreathed in flame. It's then that he notices the people cowering from this, one of them pointing at him and, apparently, the person who yelped. Nothing is on fire, per se, but the material that makes the mat Frei was standing on is beginning to curl and blacken from the persistent heat; while elemental chi energy doesn't last long on its own, a constant stream of it can have very similar effects.
The scream seems to snap Frei back to reality, leaving him open-mouthed and flustered; without the heavy emotion to power it, the aura of fire flickers, then snaps out of existence entirely. The students watching this entire exchange have been slowly moving toward the door, and seeing a break in the action, they run for it; the monk is left looking at the floor, having stepped off the mat he just ruined, thinking about Tran's words. "You probably think I was just being a jerk when I said it... Frei begins, glancing down at his own hand, held palm-up at waist height.
When he turns around, it's not clear if Frei is sad, annoyed, still angry, or most likely some combination of the three. "I really am jealous of you though. I know you wouldn't kill him, but you'd go out and you'd do *something*. You'd try to fix it, even if your anger made you do it in a stupid way." Please, don't pull any punches, Frei. "And you can call me a mopey shit all you want, but I *have* tried to fix things in my own way. They just haven't worked."
Without Frei's own rage to rail against, Dr. Tran's personal fury fades once again. At least, down to its normal levels, which are easy enough to cope with. He's still mostly oblivious as to the chain of events that lead to this, though, not noticing the mat or anything. To his eyes, it's like Frei just suddenly stopped for no reason. Which is fine.
"Alright. Alright." Tran takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, and then decides to press on, in a way that might actually make sense for once. "I probably think you were just being a jerk...full stop." He grins, and then continues, "No, no, seriously though, let me just get this straight, make sure I understand what you're saying here. You've got me, and I am acting in a reasonable, dignified manner, despite how when I do shit it's dumb as hell and doesn't accomplish anything. You are acting mopey, despite how when you do shit it's probably not dumb as hell and doesn't accomplish anything." Tran folds his arms, case made, confident in his own victory.
"I'm *not* being mopey. I'm thinking it through." That's been Frei's mantra for weeks now, hasn't it? Whether or not he firmly believes it appears to be beside the point. He really hasn't done anything. He promised Mizuki he would try, he promised Kentou he would try, he has done his level best to bring Hotaru back from the brink and completely failed in that respect even where others may have succeded. And of course, every failure layers on top of it new doubts, new concerns, and the 'thinking about it' continues anew. Nothing gets done. Which is, in fact, exactly what Frei admits. "But you're right. No amount of thinking has actually gotten me to do anything worthwhile about it."
Turning back towards Tran, he gives the doctor a flat look; Tran might be able to smile a grim smile, but all the monk can do is continue to justify being called 'mopey'. "Kataki is my brother. Younger brother. He showed up a few months ago and has been making the people in my life miserable. Not me; them. I think he's why Hotaru has been acting like a psychopath lately. He... nearly killed Mizuki. I'm not sure what else." There's the ghost of a shrug, Frei's eyes closing but the lids shaky with the effort of keeping his concentration, trying to stay logical. "I don't know what it's about. He doesn't visit me, so I don't know. I haven't seen him, or my other brother, or my mother in almost seven years."
"Oh." So it's even worse than Tran thought. Frei's not just being mopey, he's /thinking/ about things. Not just any old thing, even, but a matter of family. The angry little doctor man has had...experiences with family. Not really positive ones, although they certainly don't approach the level of 'brother trying to kill/maim/cripple everybody you know and cherish'. Still, the principle should be sound - trying to think through these things is like trying to catch a greased pig. It's just not going to happen.
"Alright, look. I'll tell you what." Tran waggles a finger knowingly. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. God knows I can't stand it when other people try it. Work it out however you want, even though by the looks of it whatever you've been doing so far is pretty much a complete waste. Deny it if you still want, I don't care. Let me know how it goes while I hunt him down and kill him like the disgusting, filthy, despicable animal he is." That'll teach the bastard. "Deal?"
That gets a chuckle from Frei, but it's mirthless. "You and Jiro, maybe even Kentou... you can form a hunting party, go out and beat him up yourselves. But..." And here, Frei shakes his head sadly, breathing out. "Believe me when I tell you that if just beating him up would get things to stop, I'd have done it a long time ago." Or tried, perhaps; it occurs to Frei that he hasn't seen his brother fight since he was 12, and Kataki has doubtless come a long way since then. Never mind that he also knows just what kind of fighting style is being talked about here... Musou Tenkei doesn't go for the draw or the friendly match, it's carpe jugulum all the way.
For a moment, Frei regards Tran again with an analytical gaze. He might feel fear, but it never shows. He does feel anger, and it often shows. And it's hard to tell if Tran is courageous and bold, or simply foolhardy. In the end though, the monk asks himself, is there really any difference? The answer might be 'no'. And he thinks what's been going on so far has been a waste of time. Frei would be hard pressed to disagree.
It's the monk's turn to clench his hand into a fist; his fingers are curled so tight his knuckles go white and the back of his hand flushes red from it.
"I don't know that he's a disgusting, filthy animal. I do know that he's changed. And I know I've been trying to solve this without knowing all the details. So I'm going to go find them out." There's a pause, and then the monk simply starts walking, as if he's going to do what he said *right now*. However, halfway across the gym floor he turns to Tran with an even expression. "Tran... don't get hurt again on my account. Alright?"
Dr. Tran does not laugh. Instead he regards Frei with a steady, cool gaze, serving mostly to mask the blazing tower of fury within. "I'm not going to beat him up. I'm going to kill him. End his life. Make him cease to be. Unless..." He pauses, as if something has just occured to him. "...Unless after he's lying on death's door, I decide he amuses me, and suffer to let him live with the knowledge that he does so on my petty, off-handed whim." Tran's hand is twitching again as he recalls some decidedly unpleasant memories.
Once Frei pauses, Tran starts walking toward him, moving past him toward the stairs so he can get the hell out of here. "Don't mistake me, Frei. I'm not doing any of this for you. You're a decent guy, as far as these things go, but I'm not going to throw my life away over you." After a few more steps, at a distance he doesn't think Frei's going to be able to hear at, he mumbles to himself under his breath. "Myself, now..."
Log created on 15:15:46 04/05/2008 by Frei, and last modified on 19:22:19 04/05/2008.