The massive oaken double doors leading to the castle's inner library were slightly open. Shaking his head tiredly, the lone magistrate left the path he was cutting through the dark hall and made for the doors, muttering under his breath. "Infernal scaled cur," the aged man grumbled, referring to the resident pet. "That blasted land dragon gets into *everything*..." Before he could so much as touch the polished wood panels however, they flew wide apart, revealing the trespasser, who was most definitely NOT the family dragon. For a moment, the fallen magistrate didn't recognize the human figure he saw framed by the candlelight of the library... Or maybe his mind *refused* to recognize who it was. "Wh-what is the meaning of this!?" the downed magistrate snarled, indignant. He picked himself up from the rich carpeting and peered into the shadows concealing the other man's face. "What were you doing in Master Maimsworth's library? I've got half a mind to call the castle guards on you! Why--" "Calm down," said the dark figure mildly, interrupting his tirade. The voice was eerily familiar. A single eye gleamed from above the high- cut steel collar. "Nothing to worry about, Klein. It's me-- Craig." "NONSENSE! Utterly ludicrous!" the old keeper was about to scoff, but then he took the time to observe the offending individual a little more closely. And indeed, it WAS Craig-- the shaggy, almost dirty-looking hair, the wild eyes staring out from underneath it, and most of all, the large, bulky black armour that he wore almost everywhere. How could he not have seen it right away? His eyes weren't what they used to be, the aged magistrate decided. But... there WAS something very different about the young man this time around. Something about the way he *carried* himself that had made him unrecognizable to the magistrate even if only a few moments. "M-Master Craig!" Klein, the magistrate, gasped, blinking with confusion behind his pince nez. "M-my apologies-- I didn't realize it was you! Please forgive my brashness, lord. Are you lost again? Please allow me to guide you back to the main hall and--" "I'm not lost," Craig said in an unusually calm, almost *reasonable* tone. "I meant to come here." There was a moment of dumbfounded silence. "But... the library!? YOU... went to the library by *yourself*?" The bewildered Klein was almost stammering in his shock. "B-but what FOR?? If it was homework, couldn't you have a-asked for one of the castle minsiters to do it FOR you? Where's Gruell? That's *his* job! The young fool must have--" "I've dismissed Gruell early. And no, it's *not* homework," Craig interrupted again, stepping forward and into the brighter torchlight of the hall. He began to walk, and there yet another discrepancy was present. His stride was different. He walked purposefully. His head was high within its metallic fence, his gait sure and steady. He looked somehow... *dignified*. His armour still clanked, though. "But why, Master Craig? Why the *library*?" Klein shuffled worriedly behind his young charge, in his beffudlement quite forgetting protocol by questioning his own lord's actions-- but that breach was rather understandable, considering. Craig had never been *seen* with a book unless it was for some kind of forced schoolwork. And now a whole *library*? "Just catching up on a little family history, that's all," Craig responded almost absently and left it at that. Klein ceased following and could only gape as Craig marched on ahead, leaving the old magistrate mouthing like a fish. He stopped in his tracks and watched as Craig walked down the corridor... only it was NOT Craig. Not by a country mile. And then, it hit Klein like a physical blow-- the way Craig moved HAD been familiar... The passage of time had faded his memory, but now that the connection had been made, all was clear. It was almost as if the old master Maimsworth had come back. *** *** *** *** Craig's family had no name-- at least, none that historians could ever agree upon as a whole. "Maimsworth" was merely a convenient tag, a meaningless label that only served pragmatic purposes. No, the ancestor the Maimsworth's family line was most famous for was known of only by his true name, one that Craig's grandfather had acquired for himself... "I am Craig Maimsworth," the young knight breathed the beginning of his new personal mantra. "I am Craig Maimsworth... grandson of Mordred Maimsworth, slayer of kings, kingdomsbane..." Craig knew he would never forget the bitter shame of his own repeated failure that Kurosawa-sensei had forced him to acknowledge. Rifling through the old books and musty scrolls of the library, Craig had then sworn to himself that he would never forget (now that he knew about it, anyway) his own proud lineage of killers and conquerors. Just as he would never forget the the trespasses of one Yuri Mikagami. Stalking off to Dark Heart that morning following a sleepless night amid the mouldy tomes of his ancestral archives, it turned out that Craig *would* be forgetting something that day after all. *** *** *** *** ********************************************* Dark Heart High Netherworld Educational Institution for The Universal Propagation of Evil started by Mads ********************************************* Part Twenty Three: Liberation. by Mads ********************************************* ********************************************* *** *** *** *** Somewhere, someone else had changed. Looking up from the bunched stacks of legalise (regarding a certain 'nonexistent' flower franchise gone to seed (no pun intended)) cluttering his desk, Truncheon peered out and down at the figure walking towards the wrought-iron gates of the school. At first, he didn't recognize the teenager approaching-- one maggot looked like the next one, as far as the Coach was concerned. But no, *this* specimen *was* different... for one thing, he was wearing the male version of the Dark Heart High uniform. No one wore the school uniform anymore. NO ONE. Well, not no one... but this new person could hardly be *Mikagami*. Abandoning his paperwork for a few seconds, Truncheon pulled the slats of his blinds down to peer a little harder. The boy seemed to be new... but where had he seen that gait before? *** *** *** *** The "new" student strode into the courtyard and amidst the disjointed sea of pubescent and adolescent humanity that was the Dark Heart High student body, one more aspiring villain in a humming throve of others hurrying to their morning classrooms. Like any other society, the student populace of Dark Heart had a dynamic all its own, a mutually understood set of rules and taboos every participating individual had to adhere to or defy at the risk of ostracization... among other things. The tradition was clear: stay away from the upperclassmen. These beings had survived one or more schoolyears in Dark Heart and were only too happy to demonstrate to their somewhat weaker schoolmates exactly WHAT they had to survive in order to get that far. It was common knowledge. Common knowledge quailed and then dispersed in the face of impending doom. "You must be tired of living, boy," a blindfolded third year male growled as a body backpedaled right into his chest. The rest of his entourage halted in their walking as well, smiling and waiting to see what punishment their friend would mete out on the freshie offender. "Well? Beg for your life already." But instead of the apologies and piteous pleas for mercy that they expected, the freshman began bubbling incoherencies typical of the severely affrighted. Only, it was clear in this case that he was not affrighted of THEM-- there could be no other explanation for the fresh- man's retreating INTO them, and instead of AWAY FROM. Extremely unsatisfactory. "Tch," the blindfolded one spat in disgust and shoved the freshman away (and into a wall, where he cratered). Looking up, he faced in the direction the freshie had come from, curious as to what he could have seen that was scarier than a Dark Heart upperclassman. The waves of power his clairvoyant eyes met were as unexpected as they were strong. Overwhelmed, the upperclassman actually staggered back a few paces and, fortunately for him, into a student of similar status. "'Zup, Uling?" Kashin hailed the blindfolded boy, catching him by the shoulders. "Why so wide-eyed? Figuratively speaking, of course." "That kid," Uling managed through clenched teeth. He was still backing into Kashin, almost as if to give way to the roiling energies he could feel-- *see* rushing past him, through him. "T-that... *freshie*! Who IS that?" Kashin adjusted his glasses with two fingers and stared out at the source of his contemporary's discomfort. No, never saw the guy before, Kashin decided at a glance. But still, that wasn't the same as not *knowing* who it was... Kashin rubbed his chin thoughtfully as the knot of power in the form of one male freshman walked past him and Uling's staring group. *** *** *** *** Looking out of his window that morning, Amakusa noted a peculiar aberrance in the tide of incoming students-- something was cutting a path through almost the exact middle, parting the throng of human (for the most part) bodies as one parts stalks of grass passing through a field. In the middle of this anomaly was a figure in the complete Dark Heart uniform, walking towards the main entrance as if unaware or uncaring of the artificial rift of which he was the center. The figure reached the hall and entered, passing out of Amakusa's line of sight. Without seeing, Amakusa knew that this boy would be stepping into the doorway marked, "10A". A knowing smile crept onto his lips. *** *** *** *** "Not so late this time," Yuri thought to herself as she walked into the courtyard, unaware that she was just late enough to miss the previous series of events. Only scattered remains of the morning's supply of students could be seen walking, running, floating, flying and oozing to the entryways. "Come on, Yuri-oneesama!" Amy chirped, playfully tugging at her beloved's arm, which she'd held tenderly (Yuri'd have said, 'clung onto') since leaving the Mikagami household. "Let's hurry or we're gonna be late!" *** *** *** *** The first thing that Yuri noticed was that barely half the class was present, making her wonder whether she was almost-late at all, and not unusually-early instead. Yasuko was there, but she seemed absorbed in what looked to be schoolwork, and Ki, who was wrestling with his own invisible emotional phantoms, feigned disinterest in Yuri's arrival. The next thing she noticed was the person she had never seen before. Taking her seat in between a semi-circle of almost entirely empty ones, Yuri had an unobstructed view of the stranger, even as Amy relocated to a place closer to her and proceeded to cuddle her arm in what Yuri hoped was a sisterly manner. The newcomer was male, definitely about her age, and of the same build as most other males... well, most other male athletes, at least. And though Yuri was sure she'd never encountered this one before, she felt a strange bond between him and her that she couldn't explain... a bond which *didn't* involve the fact that she was wearing the Dark Heart fuku, while he the Dark Heart buttoned black schoolshirt and black slacks. "Mikagami Yuri!" Fujiko repeated from her place in front. "Hai!" Yuri half-shouted with a start and blushed slightly as she realized that she'd ignored the morning rollcall. "Here!" "So I see," Fujiko Kurosawa-sensei said dryly. "Students have been known to leave simulacri of themselves to escape attendance." "Ummm... this is really me, sensei," Yuri said, somewhat lamely. Kurosawa-sensei nodded. "Or a very good facsimile. May I remind you, however, that as long as you are in that seat, your duty is to pay attention to *me*. Taking inventory of those who have chosen to appear in class today is *mine*. Understood?" "H-hai!" Yuri sat down immediately, only now aware that she had stood up quite reflexively at the teacher's summons. "Don't mind her, Yuri-oneesama," Amy mumbled, leaning over. "She's just a frigid bitch, that's all..." Fujiko gave the former Sakura Art student a freezing look and she silenced immediately before the 'freezing' part became literal. Satisfied, the teacher turned to the stranger. "Preparing for the upcoming sports meet, I see," she said feelinglessly. "How gratifying to see that you've opted for my class instead of utilizing the time to catch up on your training." The new boy nodded. *Catch up on your training...?* Now something was *definitely* weird. Why was Kurosawa-sensei talking to him as if they knew each other? And why should that nondescript manner of nodding and the near-bored halfliddedness of the eyes on the boy's face stir such... confused feelings in Yuri? Fujiko had asked another question, but Yuri didn't hear it-- she was just beginning to notice the absence of yet someone else. Two others, in fact. But before she could turn to look for her missing friends, the boy nodded in response to Kurosawa-sensei's question, this time, a little lower and harder. The boy's unruly brownish-black hair bobbed and waved, revealing the glinting cat earring dangling by his left ear. Yuri stared, but that was not what made her jaw go slack with shock. "B-Ba--" "I hope you do us proud this year, Bala-kun," Fujiko went on, confirming Yuri's suspicions. The teacher's expression had warmed just the slightest, infinitesimal bit (if that were even possible). "Dark Heart has a tradition of athletic excellence stretching back to even before my time. I'm sure you won't do anything to jeopardize it." Clearly, that was as close as Fujiko would ever come to actually state confidence in the boy's abilities. "Hai," Balabalalde answered. Hmph, as far as boys went, this one didn't look so bad. Didn't change the fact that he was a jerk, though, Amy Angeleye concluded, her hand having once again found its way to Yuri's own. She looked up to stare lovingly at her goddess' fa-- "Yuri-oneesama? Yuri-kun? Yuri?" Amy worriedly shook her beloved, who had gone blank-faced and open-mouthed. "Are you awake? Hello~..." *** *** *** *** "Neeee!? What's wrong with her!?" Amy whined, barely able to keep herself from hopping up and down in agitation (her old schoolmates used to do just that when upset). "What's wrong with my Yuri-oneesama!?" Leilei licked her popsicle. It was a quaint enough scene-- a small, pink-haired girl was eating ice cream under a silently shedding sakura tree. Around her, two high school girls and a boy were standing close by, apparently enjoying the short freedom noon lunch break afforded them. Only, one of the girls had her mouth open and she seemed to have given up blinking. After the noon meal, the three had found... or more precisely, *Leilei* had sought them out for a little talk. Apparently, she had just come from cavorting about the city... alone. "Nothing unusual, really," the small girl said matter-of-factly. "The mind sometimes goes into a state of extreme shock when confronted with danger, a state where the fight or flight reflex literally stops cold. Lots of Bala-kun's classmates froze too the first time they saw him freed." Yuri blinked. "Is *that* why half the class didn't come in this morning?" she asked, ignoring Amy's squeal of joy from beside her and the subsequent arm- hugging that inevitably followed ("Yuri-oneesama! You're okay!"). "Glad to see you back among the living, Yuri-kun," Leilei beamed up at her friend. "And yup, that's right. I'd say all of Bala's classmates remember him from junior high... and since the junior high sports meet more or less happens at the same time as the high school's, I suppose that the tradition lives on, ne?" She lifted her sweet towards Yuri. "Wanna lick?" "No, thank you," Yuri replied absently, still not taking her eyes off Balabalalde-- it was as if the whole thing was an illusion, and he'd be back in his bandages the moment she looked away. It was just that he seemed so strange without them... almost *naked*, somehow. Yuri blushed profusely at that line of thought and quickly looked away for the first time in a few hours. Bala didn't seem to notice-- by all appearances, he was finding the sky particularly fascinating at the moment. "Ummm, you said something about tradition?" Yuri mumbled, only distantly aware of how Amy was giving Bala a dirty look from askance. "Well, you know how Bala's on the soccer team and stuff?" Leilei said, working her way through the creamy middle. "That's only cuz' some of the events happen at the same time, and even *he* can't be everywhere at once, you know?" "You mean..." "Yup," Leilei yupped, taking a big bite and sucking thoughtfully. "Without his bandages, Bala's pretty much a tank wherever he goes to play. And play he does. It's the one time in the whole year when his family's caretakers actually take off *all* of his wrapping stuff." Leilei paused a moment to gesture with her free hand and make a small *fssssh!* through her lips. "So, he joins every event he can at every opportunity-- any excuse to be rid of the bandages, you know?" A familiar glint of mischief flashed in the girl's eye. "Just don't ask him to play chess," she giggled and eyed Bala for any signs of a reaction. He snorted and went back to avidly studying cloud formations. Leilei laughed. "*All* his wrappings," Yuri breathed, slightly tempted to step forward and touch the teenager in question... but, no. Especially not so soon after the pizza place... *incident*. "What about those weird scro--" "The ofuda?" Leilei put a finger to her chin. "They left one of those-- the most powerful one, in fact." She grinned. "After all, we only want him to win, right? Not actually *kill* the other team." She laughed and Yuri followed suit, if somewhat weakly. "Honestly," Leilei sighed, getting up and sticking the almost finished confection's stick in her mouth and stretching her other arm. "I've *told* Coach Truncheon that Bala doesn't *need* any of that practice he makes him do, not unwrapped. I guess he'll have to find that out for himself, ne?" "I guess..." Yuri agreed halfheartedly. Amy seemed happy enough ensuring that her right arm wouldn't fly away or something. Bala was as aloof as ever, which probably meant that he was just dandy. Then why was *she*, Yuri, so ill-at-ease? Biting down cutely on the wooden strip in her mouth, Leilei went on: "Really, Yuri-kun! You should *see* the trophies Bala has in his room! Maybe one of these days, he can take you there to see them, ne?" That single thought brought the just-disspating heat in Yuri's cheeks back almost tenfold. "Hg..." Yuri near-choked. "Aw, psh, these strawberry rockets don't last very long, do they?" Leilei grabbed Amy Angeleye by the arm. For a moment, this small reversal of roles stunned the older girl enough to make her let go of Yuri's. "Whu-?" Angeleye blinked. "C'mon, Amy-kun! Let's go get another one!" Leilei declared cheerfully. "So I can get to know Yuri's new friend a little better and stuff! It's vacation time for me, so my treat! C'mon!" "B-but--" Infatuative attachment proved no match for hyperactive youth on this occasion. Leilei dragged a futilely-protesting Amy away and towards wherever it was that cold sweets could conceivably be purchased near Dark Heart High. And that was how Yuri found herself alone with an unbandaged, unchained Balabalalde of the Wargmere-Agherukk. *** *** *** *** It was bad enough that things were going nowhere with Mikagami. Now, he had been attacked. Actually ATTACKED. Ki Tamaida was no one's fool-- he did his research, and research told him that today was not the best time to cross Balabalalde. Neither was tomorrow. Or even a short string of tomorrows after that. Ki smoldered. He chafed. *Nobody* got away with pinning the scion of the Steel Thorn. He had gutted people for lesser insults. And yet, he didn't get this far by being careless. The wretch couldn't *possibly* be as powerful as the rumours (and there were many of them) made him out to be, but it wouldn't make sense to take risks. No... he would count on *Bala* being reckless if he wanted to be rid of the interfering lout once and for all. For now, it would pay to be prudent... and patient. Patience. PFAH! Ki forcibly pushed away his frustrations. He was supposed to have transcended emotions,for darkness' sake. Ki glanced at the other occupants of the room that lunch break. Only the hardiest or the bravest (or most foolish) of Bala's old classmates had opted to appear in class that day. If there was anything to lore, they'd show up the next day... what these types were most afraid of was what Bala might do in celebration of being loosed and to exercise his recently liberated limbs. The rest of the roster was made up of those who'd never,or at least seldom encountered the boy before this schoolyear, like Ki himself. Among those who could be classified into the latter was Sakazashi, the one who called himself the Doombringer. Apart from never having known about Balabalalde before Dark Heart, he was plenty powerful in his own right. If *half* the rumours about the Endbringer were to be believed, he'd already be *twice* as dangerous as an unwrapped Balabalalde. Not that mathematical reckoning ever counted when considering ability, raw power and such, but still... In Dark Heart, rumour was not all that far from the truth. Ki leaned his chin on an arm, eyes narrowing, mind entering the welcome state of cold, ruthless calculation. He had almost forgotten how it felt. Today, he slipped into it without even noticing. Sakazashi promised to be a spectacularly cruel upperclassman when the time came. Sakazashi was also, unlike Bala, proud of his reputation and sometimes, quite protective of it. Perhaps there *might* be a way to get payback this week, after all. *** *** *** *** Sakazashi looked up suddenly from his box lunch, prepared to blow an unfortunate classmate into the next multiverse. He didn't like it when his meals were interrupted. Ki didn't even flinch. Judging from the way the swordsman was standing in front of Sakazashi, *he* had been the one to tap his shoulder. The Doombringer lowered his fiercely glowing hand as one might lower a gun raised in a false alarm. "What do you want, Ki?" Sakazashi had a rule-- in the case of fellow badasses, hear them out first. And THEN blow them to kingdom come if it so pleased him. "I have a proposition for you," Tamaida said conspiratorially and his eyes gleamed... darkly. A smile touched the corners of his mouth. Or was it a sneer? "A proposition that might quite happily enhance your fame in this school, and maybe even in the entire prefecture." That was a start. Sakazashi grinned. Kingdom come could wait. "I'm listening." *** *** *** *** "So... um... does it feel good to be out of those bandages?" "Hai." Yuri winced slightly. It was *still* jarring to hear Bala's voice... or re-acknowledge the fact that he had *any* voice at all. Gathering her courage, she tried again. "Ummm... So when the Sports Meet is over, they'll wrap you again, ne?" "Hai," Bala nodded, but not without snorting first. Aieek. Bad move, Yuri, the girl chided herself. You reminded him, and made it even sound like that you *want* him back in those awful things. Which she didn't. Yuri pouted. If she was going to strike up any sort of conversation, she would have to change tactics fast. "So, um... did you do all your homework?" "Hai." Blah. Yuri put a hand to her forehead and closed one eye in a small, painless mock-knock to her own head. Sticking her tongue out at her own foolishness, she realized that she'd sounded just like her father that time. Blah. "Ummm... Nice weather today, huh?" Yuri tried, referring to what looked to be Bala's current field of interest. "Hai." Okay, so yes-or-no questions weren't exactly cutting it. The recurring answers were almost as good as Bala's usual no-answer-at-all... which was, of course, not good. Let's see... "What're your favorites anyway?" Yuri finally asked, glad to have found a topic that would elicit more than just an affirmative or negative response, and one she realized she was honestly curious about. "Flavors? Movies? Color? Animals (not cats, that's for sure)? Hm?" Bala provided a perfecly informative answer. "Hai." Yuri pouted, this time out of growing exasperation, more than anything. "Did they take your brain away too when they took the chains?" "H-" Bala gave Yuri an inquisitive 'Eh?' look, an eyebrow raised. Yuri grinned, and shrugged. "Just testing." Bala blinked, his characteristic brooding look replaced by one of gentle confusion. Yuri giggled. Yuri laughed. *** *** *** *** "Ne, what's taking them so long?" Yuri wondered aloud. She glanced restlessly at the school's clock tower. It smugly declared that it had been almost fifteen minutes since Leilei had left with Amy. Yuri, of course, got no answer from her companion. She went back to leaning on the sakura tree. No, in truth, she didn't really want her friends to come back just yet. That was the part of her that was still afraid, that still wanted to delay what had to be done, had to be *said* now that there was a perfect opportunity to do it, what.... "Bala-kun..." "Hai." It was reassuring to know that he was, at the very least, still listening. Yuri bit her lip and softly wrung her own hands in her discomfort... but she pushed on. "About that... kiss... the other time..." Silence. Yuri could almost *hear* the boy tensing up. She couldn't trust herself to look up at him. She had little enough nerve knowing that he was standing almost right beside her. But she pushed on. "I... I want to apologize. I'm sorry. I, I don't know what came over me," Yuri half-stammered, finding to her horror that, now that she had started, all the words wanted to come out in a single heady rush, threatening to knot her tongue, wreak havoc on her coherence. "I was thinking... I don't know what I was thinking! I mean, I... It was just that you sav-- I mean, you've been a really good friend to me and I really li-- I mean, I... I... I--" Her breathing became erratic. Yuri hoped to heaven that those weren't tears she felt brimming over her eyes, ready to spill at the slightest provocation, making her look like a real cr-- Yuri looked up suddenly, eyes widening. The swift motion sent grains of small, perfectly spherical teardrops flying from her misted green eyes. Some of these caught the noon sun and became tiny worlds of prismatic color and light. Bala had touched her hand. He was looking down, at her, *into* her; deep, muddy browns locked onto her own emerald pupils. His expression hadn't changed, but his *eyes*... they were warmer than Yuri had ever seen them... or could have ever hoped to see them. "It's alright," Balabalalde almost murmured, his fingers light on the back of her hand, and yet strangely more comforting than any embrace could ever have been. "Shh." Yuri blinked for a few seconds, taking it all in. Bala's first other words... the indiscribable relief, the joy, the... She wiped the tears from her eyes, unshed. Features softening, she stepped forward, away from the tree and leaned her head on Bala's chest, eyes closed. He wore no cologne, she noted, only distantly remembering that Ki had. And yet, he smelled pleasant. Like pale cinnamon. She could feel his breathing from underneath the shirt's fabric... Yuri gasped. She could feel a pair of strong hands gripping her shoulders. They felt tense, somehow; as if undecided whether to push her away... or pull her closer. Yuri stepped forward and pressed gently against the boy's body. "Bala-kun... I..." "YURI-CHAAAAAAAAANN!!! BALA-KUUUUUUUN!!! We brought you some ice cream, too!" came Leilei's high-pitched call. "Sorry we took so long-- it's just that I forgot what flavor Yuri liked, and, well... Amy-kun wanted to make sure..." Yuri separated almost reluctantly and... Yuri boggled as Amy approached, carrying what appeared to be a pile of popsicles... one for all 58 flavours available. *** *** *** *** This would not do. Her beloved Yuri had been left alone with the brute for twenty-five minutes... twenty-five *whole* minutes. What had they been doing alone together?? This would NOT do. Amy made a disgusted 'pfftpptptp' sound through her pursed lips. Her attention was anywhere but on the teacher lecturing at the head of the classroom. She knew nothing could be done about Yuri's feelings for the boy-- was it Yuri-oneesama's fault that she was so pure, so innocent, that she couldn't see how this... this... *man* was manipulating her feelings so? No. The problem lay with the brute himself. And Amy thought she knew how to fix that, now that the talkative Leilei had disappeared again for parts unknown. She laughed. "A very commendable effort, Angeleye-san," the Alchemy teacher said in his reedy voice. "However, I would appreciate it if you would save your laughing practice until *after* my class, hm?" "H-hai, sensei!" Amy bowed, and then got seated again. *** *** *** *** ARRRGH. Reading didn't work. Immersing herself in schoolwork didn't work. Disporting herself with the first boy/girl/animal within reach hadn't worked. *Nothing* worked. She just *couldn't* get that trollop out of her head. Yasuko couldn't allow herself to admit being bested just like that. She just couldn't. Still, she couldn't ignore the deep sting that Kurosawa-sensei's words had had for her either. She could *not* make the same mistakes again. MUST not. And then once again, Yasuko found herself scheming... slipping into the lusciously devious manner of plotting that was so HER. She laughed. The Alchemy teacher, tired of subtle warnings, lobbed a piece of chalk at Yasuko. It hit her square on the forehead 'tic!' and bounced once to disappear behind her seat. Yasuko clammed up. *** *** *** *** Balabalalde was free. Stifled by the chains, suffocated by his bandages, Bala would often feel himself diverge mentally... Like he was slowly being torn into two persons, one external, the other internal. It was amazing how a few hours outisde of his bonds could cure him of all of his private dichotomy. And after that small episode with Yuri under the sakura tree, he-- "Balabalalde-kun," came the flat pronunciation of his demonic name. He blinked. "Ha-" "We need to talk-- NOW." Amy Angeleye's eyes blazed. She would not be routed this time, her demeanor said-- *screamed*. Hmp. Bala was hardly averse to hurting females. Especially females he didn't much like. His fingers clenched into a hard ball... "Anou-- Amy-chan, Bala-kun?" Yuri peered back quizically at her two friends. They had stopped walking with her in the middle of the hallway. Bala's fingers relaxed. "Don't worry about us, Yuri-oneesama," Amy called back over her shoulder-- she had made it a point to literally block Balabalalde's path to her beloved first. It would be a fitting beginning to what she would do next. She turned back at her captive audience. "I want to talk to Balabalalde-kun here about a few... things." Yuri raised her eyebrow, a trifle worried. She had come to know how Amy could be somewhat... *protective* of her (Yuri refused to use the more appropriate term, 'jealous'). "We won't take long," Amy promised. "Oh let them go, Yuri-chan," came a new voice, making Yuri whirl. Yasuko was standing in front of her, arms folded. "*I* have something to talk to you about, too-- and it won't take long either. I promise." The succubus smiled. Yuri smiled back uncertainly... And was pulled by her hand to an out-of-the-way corner of the hall. *** *** *** *** "YOU are beneath my notice." A few moments of silence. "WHAT!?" "You heard me," Yasuko huffed, raising her nose in the air, glaring down at Yuri from behind halflidded, haughty eyes. "You, trollop are beneath my notice." Yuri, at a loss for words, decided not to try and find any. "You're just a flighty *girl*, for darkness' sake," Yasuko went on, hands on curvy hips, snobbishly empahsizing every other word by gesturing with her torso. "How can you possibly compete with me in my field of expertise? *You*? Best a Wareme succubus in the carnal arts? Don't make me laugh!" Yuri could only blink. "So from here on in, trollop," Yasuko said, venom flashing in her eyes. She leaned forward a little more than was necessary, arching her back dramatically, and then poking a finger at Yuri's collarbone as she spoke. "I won't even dignify your pathetic existence by trying to end it. That's right. You're *nothing* to me anymore, you hear me? *NOTHING*." "Um... okay," Yuri managed, still blinking. There. The trollop *seemed* crushed and desolated enough. Throwing her hair back, Yasuko let loose one of her more inspired evil laughs, folded wings bobbing, and other parts of her anatomy following suit. She turned on her heel and sauntered away, feeling rather proud of herself. There was NO fate that could not be surmounted by scorn. "Um... Yasuko-kun?" "Hmmm?" The Wareme turned, curious. Yuri was shuffling almost bashfully. There was something rather endearing about it. Yasuko's guard dropped just a little. In the time it took for Yasuko to make her little speech, Yuri had come up with a crazy idea... no, a REALLY crazy idea. One that involved forgetting that Yasuko had tried to *kill* her several times... After a moment of further deliberation, Yuri had decided. *Dad would prolly love her,* she thought, reflecting on her father's attitude towards Amy and her other, more normal friends. "Um... My parents went away for a while," Yuri began. "I might try and throw a sleepover one of these nights... and since you're one of the first girls I met here in Dark Heart, I was wondering if you could come if anything should push through. You know... a just-the-girls thing. Yasuko-kun?" Yasuko blinked. NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO-- "Hai," went Yasuko's perfect lips. "WAI! Great then!" Yuri exclaimed cheerfully. She skipped towards where Yasuko was standing and staring at nothing. Yuri clasped the succubus' hands for a moment in a gesture of friendship. "I'll call you at home when it's final, okay? Ja ne!" And then she had gone. For a few minutes, Yasuko just stood there. "What the hell just happened?" became her first coherent thought. *** *** *** *** Yuri stepped out of the corridor Yasuko had pulled her in feeling happier than she had in days. The whole kissing mess had been cleared up, and now sleepovers in the making! She grinned and wondered whether Reika and Atsuko would come over if-- Dodge. >From the corner of her eye, Yuri had seen the unmistakable glint of steel. Her irresistable instinct to dodge the descending point of light earned her a torn fuku ribbon but saved her life-- the sword clanged on the floor, dry of blood. Yuri only had enough time to register the face glaring up at her from below. The body attached to it was bent forward at the waist, in the aftermath of the slash it had thrown. The person was someone she knew... and yet she didn't know him at all. Not now. "Craig!" Yuri gasped, finally coming up with the name. Grunting, Craig begun the motions for his followup blow, like he was trained to do. No more exaggerated strikes this time, no more crushed walls, pulverized stone. Only cold-blooded efficiency. Forewarned, Yuri backed away from this just in time-- and into the hall corner. The draft from Craig's upward slice was fading... the cut from above would not be long to follow. Yuri stood her ground, unwilling to cry out or claw against the wall in a futile gambit for escape. She stared up in defiance, gazing into Craig's eyes... And saw him hesitate. *** *** *** *** Craig had timed his attack flawlessly. Leilei was absent. Bala was nowhere to be seen. Ryuji was off somewhere, hunting for a new body. Amakusa was in a meeting. Ki had gone home early. He didn't even roar as he attacked. He just went and did it. Yuri was fast, he had to give her that. But now, he had her, he REALLY had her this time. Escape was not an option-- nothing could save her now. NOTHING. As his sword fell downwards in its killing arc, several things happened at once. Yuri's eyes had looked up at him, and Craig had not been prepared for what he saw in them. Bright green. Simultaneously, in the direction from whence Yuri had come, a mass of shadows came alive, moving in towards Craig and his prey. And then, in that splitsecond, Craig remembered what day it was. At the same time, Craig was thinking back to when he'd first kidnapped Yuri, to when he'd set traps and failed, to when he'd sabotaged and failed... and then he understood what Kurosawa-sensei was talking about. Those times, he *deserved* to fail, he had *every right* to bungle, to utterly miss the mark. Luck had had nothing to do with it. THIS time, it was luck. Just pure LUCK. "EEEAAAAARRRGH--" Craig bellowed in anger and frustration, already knowing what would happen next, his curses to the world coming out in an emotional glut of sound when no doltish utterance of 'dragonturds' would suffice. His sword descended, already past any point of recant. There was the sickly 'THUP' of a tempered blade tasting firm flesh. *** *** *** *** "Why can't you just stay out of this!?" Craig demanded, pushing down on his sword hilt. Balabalalde only grunted, but not out of any exertion on his part. He had Craig's blade by one hand, holding it up against the opposing force being applied to it as if it were made of nothing more substantial than styrofoam. Yuri was behind him, her face slightly less surprised than one might expect. Who could blame her? This was fast becoming a regular thing for the girl. A rivulet of crimson ran down Bala's left hand. "HAH! You're not invincible *after* all!" Craig screamed crazily at the sight of blood. He pushed his weight down even harder on his sword, confidence regained. "You're wounded! You *bleed*! You--" Whatever would have come next was knocked out of Craig's lungs by a casual right-handed jab to his abdomen. Relatively speaking. All Bala did was jerk his fist slightly forward, arm bent at the elbow. Craig's armour spiderwebbed and then shattered in largish chunks of ebon steel. The force of the blow launched Craig across the length of the empty corridor to impact on Dark Heart's reinforced wall. THIS spiderwebbed and then gave way to the human projectile, crashing about on the downed fighter in fragmented chunks and blocks of broken stone. The windows closest blew outwards, glass spraying away in crystalline flecks and sharpened, knife-like shards. The old Craig would have passed out on the spot. The new one was trying to get up. "No... not this time... I can't lose to her AGAIN," Craig moaned through clenched teeth. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth. He got up from out of his nest of rubble, and onto one knee. "No... I can still do this... I--" A human shadow appeared by his feet. He looked up. Yuri looked down at him with an expression of mixed exasperation and... pity? "Craig? Are you okay?" "I... I have to pay you back," the knight groaned, attempting to stand. He fell forward again on his knee. Pieces of his armour were still falling away, revealing the chain mail underneath. "For all the times that you'd humiliated me... Pay you back... YOU. I--" *CRACK* The report was loud in the corridor and the sound echoed impudently before finally vanishing. The silence that followed was even louder. Craig had stopped struggling to his feet. His face was cocked slightly to the side, eyes wide and uncomprehending from under his blonde hair. His cheek throbbed red. Yuri had slapped him. "Really, Craig," Yuri said, straightening. Her eyes were gentle. "Grow up." She walked away, leaving Craig stunned, on one knee, supporting himself with a sword stabbed into the floor... *** *** *** *** "Yuri-oneesama!? Are you okay!? I'm so glad that lunatic didn't hurt you!" "I'm okay, Amy," Yuri smiled wanly. "Just a little shaken." Amy started forward to embrace her. "Thanks to Bala-kun." Amy stopped dead in her tracks. Yuri stepped over to where Bala was standing. He was staring at his bleeding hand in the air of someone who has found a small blemish on his person. "You're wounded again," Yuri said, not bothering to keep the worried tone out of her voice. "We'd better go fix it up. I'm so sorry, I--" Bala glanced at her once... and then walked away in the opposite direction. He didn't even look back. "Bala-kun?" Yuri blinked in puzzlement. "He has other more important things to worry about," Amy said from beside her. The former Sakura Art student didn't take Yuri's hand this time. "Don't worry... a flesh wound like that won't kill him." "I suppose," Yuri murmured, a little put down by Bala's ignoring her. That time under the sakura tree? It seemed like an eternity away. "C'mon, Yuri-kun, let's get you home," Amy urged. "You're tired and need to rest." She pushed unhurriedly on Yuri's shoulder. Yuri followed where she led without protest. Before they had left the corridor completely, Amy looked over her shoulder at where Balabalalde of the Wargmere-Agherukk was walking away. Her lips became a straight line of determination. For today, and for the past, Amy would forever be indebted to the boy for saving Yuri's life. But she would not take back what she said to him. She had seen with her Angeleye a point of weakness and had exploited it. Some sacrifices were necessary in the name of true love, Amy reasoned, draping an arm across Yuri's back and pulling her closer. Yuri, ignorant of Amy's thoughts, was comforted somewhat. *** *** *** *** Balabalalde strode hurriedly down the hallway, lest he be tempted to look and see whether Yuri would still be there behind him, watching. *You make her sad, Balabalalde-kun. It's the truth.* Why should he believe in anything that worthless Sakura Art girl told him? The pervert was already showing signs of skewed orientation-- she was probably lying through her teeth. *I'm her friend, Balabalalde-kun. I care for her. And you do, too, I'm sure. Can't you see that when you're around, all she ever gets is trouble?* And so what if she had been telling the truth? What did HE care? All he wanted was to be rid of his bandages, chains and seals, wasn't it? And now he had all of that. He was *freed*. He should be HAPPY, damn it! He didn't care about Yuri. He didn't care about ANYONE. Why should he? Why-- *She looks so sad sometimes, don't you see? She worries about her friends and you worry her too much. YOU make her sad, Bala. YOU do.* The way she had looked at his wounded hand back there... the way she had looked at HIM. WHY couldn't he bear the SIGHT of that expression on Yuri's face!? *Stay away from her, Bala. It's for her own good.* Balabalalde coiled. And sprang. He burst through the building wall a moment later and landed gracefully on the courtyard. Not missing a beat, he launched himself again, cratering his starting point, engaged in a full-speed sprint within mere milliseconds. He was free. He was free. He was free. He ran the thought through his mind as he ran, using it to soothe his jangled emotions, relax his inexplicably turmoiled heart. He didn't care. He didn't care. He didn't care. ... Did he? *** *** *** *** Sakazashi the Fifth looked out at the dust cloud trailing in Bala's wake. He smirked. *** *** *** *** When they were all gone, Craig had gotten up, unmindful of the pain in his gut, the ache in his bones. Balabalalde had sucker-punched him, without chains, bandages, or ofuda. He was *lucky* he didn't have anything broken, anatomy-wise. His stomach would still need serious medical attention, though. Then... Then why did that puny, insignificant slap hurt him much, much more? Staggering drunkenly through the Dark Heart halls, he was a man in a daze, weaving across the doorways, stairs and paths without direction, only disjointed thoughts. His sword dragged noisily behind him. Why? He found himself thinking back to the time Yuri had helped him up the first time Balabalalde had defeated him. Her eyes. Green. "Maybe you're just trying to get her attention, Craig-kun, didja ever think of that?" Craig whirled. Leilei stared up at him. "Wanna lick?" *** *** *** *** AUTHOR'S NOTES Mmm... Such fun following up Brian's chapter. *_* Anyway, whoo, I realize that this has been one big emotional roller- coaster for almost all concerned, but lemme try to assess the damage I've singlehandedly wrought on yon continuity. *Bala unwrapped. Woo. This should prove interesting. >%D *Not much mention of Amakusa or Akurei... but fleh. Nevermind them. *In Brian's part, it was mentioned that Bala had a "bare cell" for a room. Leilei implies that it's a big ole suite what with all the trophies it supposedly has. Hmm... just... think of it this way: Leilei witnessed Bala win all those trophies and so, assumed that he'd put them all in his room, i.e., she never saw his room before. Ah, come on, cut me some slack, eh? I had to find SOME way to work that 'room' thing in. ;p *Set up a little thang with Ki... and Sakazashi. Will we be seeing a battle between two veritable DHH titans? I certainly hope so. *Made an attempt at setting up Brian's desired 'sleepover' thang. Hope ye're happy with this, ya perv. ;p *Established Amy Angeleye as The Devil herself. Okay, so no, not really... but man, was she *insidious*, or WHAT, eh? ^_^ *Oooooo-- does Craig have a crushy-wushy? Okay, that was lame. No, seriously-- I hope this can be molded into something worthwhile. I've put a lot of thought in its making (right) and I decided to push through with it. Dinnae have a plan. Only the 'punch to slap' scene in mind, and a vague notion of how the 'hai' sequence would go about. I'm... rather happy about how this turned out, however. *_* Thankee sai, BrianS and Nicolas for prereading! They be the bizomb, truly. Thanks, too, go to the rest of yaz. For reading. ^_^ Godspeed! -MtB 3/16/02 *** *** *** *** A black blur zoomed past. Long after the blur had gone, whatever it was, the vacuum it created as it surged by brought rushing with it flying, flapping pieces of paper, dust, aluminum cans, and other random assortments of light objects that hadn't been tied or nailed down. This debris hailed down harmlessly on a line of standing boys just in front of the Knight School gates. One of them wore shoes with what looked like wings adorning the heels. Around his neck dangled a card proclaiming in bold letters, "TRACK TEAM". Several moments of reflection were spent before this one uttered: "I don't even know why we bother. Why don't we just *give* Dark Heart the trophies every year and spare ourselves the trouble of playing?" This was met with noogies and kicks to the ass from his comrades.