SAMURAI SOULS: A Ronin Origins story
Part One: Boys Will be Boys
by Kajite Gray email at YoroidenGi@aol.com
Day dawned bright and hot over Yokahama. Her citizens jammed the
streets already, early commuters jostling each other in their rush to
work. Sunlight reflected off the concrete and glass buildings. Starlings
shrieked at one another flurrying through the trees, harassing pigeons on
the wing. The city was wide awake, even at 6am, and all creatures were up
and charging headlong into the routines of the day.
All except, perhaps, for one.
In a cluttered and darkened room he slept, sprawled like a dead sack
across a bed that was perhaps a trifle small for him now, tangled in sheets
that needed washing badly. Snugged amid a nest of dirty clothes, comic books
and food wrappers, Kento snored contentedly. As unmoved by the mess as he
was, a crazily-patched black and white cat snoozed against him. Malachai
batted a sleepy ear at the birds outside, but didn't wake. The room was as
still as stone.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
The battered clock radio on the nightstand shrilled its alarm like a
berserk mosquito. The boy in the bed jerked, cursed fitfully into his pillow,
and dealt with the matter.
BLAM. His meaty fist came down hard, silencing the noisy contraption.
Malachai blinked. Crude, but effective, he thought sleepily. For a
long, merciful minute, the room was silent. Kento, buried deep in his pile,
was contentedly sliding back into a lovely dream of bikini-clad girls
feeding him double bacon cheeseburgs and chocolate-dipped Frenchfries. Now
if only they had remembered to bring the ketchup......
SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
No more frenchfries, no more pretty girls. Only that damned CLOCK
again......
A ragged hightop sneaker slammed down on the clock, startling it into
silence. Ken, desperate to return to his dream, sought to bury himself
deeper under the covers. With reckless disregard for its safety, the clock
shrilled again.
EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
"Ch - Kuso!!" snarled Kento, finally snapping fully awake and
punching the clock off the nightstand. It hit the opposite wall and fell
silent, landing dead amongst the wreckage of a dozen other clocks which had
met a similar fate. Growling cantankerously, Kento hunkered stubbornly back
under his sheets. It was just too damned early for this. Nothing could
convince him to leave his bed.
"Kennnn-TOOOOO!!!"
Except that.
The sheets were suddenly jerked off of him, nearly landing him on
the floor. He found himself blinking groggily up at an alarm clock which
nothing could shut off. Mama Fung. Ken closed his eyes and groaned. The
woman folded her stout arms and glared down at him.
"What do I have to do? Drag out out of bed and throw you on the bus
myself?!"
"But...." he protested feebly. She shook a thick finger at him.
"If you're late one more time, it's no Ramen for a week,
understand me?" Kento's eyes went wide at the threat. He fought loose of the
twisted sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes.
"I see - It's alive after all," she remarked in a gentler tone.
"Aww, Mom....." he grumbled, getting up anyway. He felt somewhat
less than alive.
Seeing that her son wasn't going back to sleep, Mama Fung left him
to dress and grumble sleepily at the morning sun.
He yawned hugely and stretched. Scratching his rear absently, he
peered around for something to eat. His eyes brightened, lighting on a
mangled package of crackers, which he'd apparently been sleeping on. Perfect.
He grabbed one, about to cram it in his mouth - he noticed just in time that
it had an occupant. A fat grey cockroach squatted on the cracker, waving its
antennae in greeting. He glowered at it ferociously.
"This one's MINE, bug," he informed the insect. Uncannily wise for
a cockroach, it vacated the cracker and ambled off down Kento's wrist.
Satisfied, Ken plopped the cracker into his mouth and chewed noisily.
"U-Urgk!" his face contorted, and he spat a combination of dampened
rice cracker and roach shrapnel across the room.
"Yeucchhh!!" he gagged. He glared angrily at the first roach. "Hey,
pal - You never told me you had a FRIEND!!" He grabbed up a split baseball
bat and charged.
Mama Fung paused in her rummaging in the kitchen. She scowled at
the sounds of destruction coming from her son's room.
SMASH!! Kento picked up his shoe and flung it at the frantically
scurrying roach. He missed by a mile, taking out a stack of videos instead.
"Quit tearing your room apart and get ready for school!!" roared
Mama from the kitchen.
Ken, swinging a hockey stick madly at a half-dozen roaches, yelled
back.
"There'z bugs in here Ma!!"
His wild swing narrowly missed Malachai, who dove beneath the
dresser for cover.
"If you wouldn't eat junk in bed, there wouldn't be a party in your
sheets!" retorted his mother.
Kento considered a witty reply, but instead thrust his head out the
door and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Mama. She did NOT look
amused. Sheepishly, he tried to hide the broken hockey stick behind his back.
"So!" he said brightly, hoping to block her view of most of the
wreckage behind him. He leaned on the doorframe, causing it to creak under
his weight. "Whas' for breakfus'?"
Wordlessly, she pushed a box of cold cereal at him. Kento looked at
it in dismay.
"Awwwwww....." he complained. Mama gave him a stern look.
"It's all you have time for. If you would get up at a civilized
hour, you'd have more time." Ken stared at her as if she were crazy.
"Who said 6am was CIVILIZED?!" She laughed and rumpled his mop of
blue-grey hair.
"Sorry, kid."
"It's not fair," he pouted, scowling at the cereal. Mama shrugged.
"The World's not fair. You know that." He gave her a forlorn look.
"No puppy-eyes, Kento. I have to get back to the customers." She
brushed back strands of greying hair which had escaped from the loose bun
she wore and made a face. "It's a crazy-house down there today." Kento
grinned.
"Busy, huh?"
"You know how it gets. But Busy is good." She planted a quick kiss
on his cheek. "Don't be late," she admonished one last time, before bustling
off down the back stairs that lead to the resturaunt's main kitchen. Kento
was left alone to sniff longingly at the smells wafting up from below. He
sighed and stared dejectedly at his box of cold, lifeless box of cereal.
Downstairs was a scene of organized chaos. The dining room of the
Big Fung resturaunt was fuller than usual. Everyone from excited schoolgirls
in colorful uniforms to sombre business men dressed in shades of grey seemed
to be there. Noisy families with raucus children added to the din. Behind
the flowered curtain on the back wall, the kitchen was a whirl of activity.
Kento's parents worked feverishly, trying to keep pace with the mobs'
appetite.
Tetsuo Fung wiped his sweaty brow with a sunburnt wrist.
"Whew!" he whistled. "Who invited all of THEM??" He crooked a fat
thumb back towards the crowd. He looked tired, but cheerful. Mama didn't
glance up from her pot of bubbling soup.
"Don't look at me. I didn't put out all those fliers advertising
"Morning Miso Madness." She gave her husband a wry look.
"Worked, didn't it?" He gave her a disarming grin, the same look she
got from Kento a lot. Shaking her head at him, she smiled. Carefully
balancing a set of trays, she took them over to the window to be picked up
by the bussers. Tetsuo shot a sly look at her back. He eyed all the goodies
sizzling, bubbling and stewing before him. Big Fung was advertised as a
Chinese resturaunt, but offered a mind-blowing variety of other cuisine.
Miso soup and tofu, rice dishes, fish of all types and several European
dishes crowded together in harmony on the cooking surfaces. Western
omelettes, hashbrowns and pancakes simmered in neat rows, looking strangely
out of place beside squid and marinated eels. Slyly, Tetsuo speared a fat
piece of fried squid and popped it into his mouth.
"Shame on you," teased Mama, pinching his ruddy cheek playfully.
"You'll lose your figure, twiggy!" Tetsuo laughed, and slapped his thick
belly cheerfully. He prodded her waist.
"You too, my little beanpole!" She giggled helplessly and shooed his
hand away from another piece of squid.
"You're hopeless. Simply hopeless."
Speed Racer zipped along the racetrack, narrowly edging out the
mysterious Racer X. They sped along madly, leaving smashed cars and mangled
racers behind them. Speed crossed the Finish Line first. Proudly he waved
the golden trophy, not a hair out of place. Trixie squealed excitedly at his
daring-do. He had won the race!
As always, thought Kento, munching his way through a third bowl of
Sugar Eeps. He lounged on the sagging green couch in his underwear, wedged
comfortably between piles of newspapers and dirty dishes. He drained the
sugary sludge from the bottom of his bowl in one sloppy gulp.
"BYAAAAURRRKKKK!"
He let loose with a loud, satisfying belch, knowing that his mother
would've killed him for it if she had been there. He peered in the box
speculatively. Just one bowl left. No sense wasting it.
He upended the box over his bowl, and was startled by a sharp "Ping!"
as something bounced off the lip of the ceramic bowl and skittered under
the lounge chair.
"What the fuzz?" he muttered, peering after the shiny object. He
glanced at the box. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a picture of
a funny old dude with long white hair and a big hat grinning up at him. He
looked like a priest or something. He held up a colored ball cheerfully. The
caption beneath the picture read: "Prize inside! Be the first in your
neighborhood to collect all five colors!!"
Huh. Kento scratched his head.
"So where'd it go?" he muttered. Getting down on his hands and knees
on the stained carpet, he peered under the chair. Something under there
glimmered at him. Grunting, he reached beneath, grimacing at the scungey
stuff his groping fingers encountered. Hairball, dead roach, pizza crust.....
where was that thing? Eventually, grunting and scrambling, he ended up with
head, shoulders and arm all underneath the chair. He flailed about blindly
with his hand. Where the heck....? His fingers suddenly encountered
something round and cold. That had to be it! He grabbed it.
"Kento!!"
"Wha - OW!" He had jumped, banging his head on the frame of the chair.
"Owwwww - ooohhh..." he muttered, rubbing his smarting scalp.
"You're going to be late! Put it in gear, boy!!" His father's voice
boomed from the bottom of the stairs. Kento coughed, spitting out dust
fuzzies. He hauled himself out from under the chair.
"Okay, Dad!" he yelled back. He took only a moment to glance at his
prize from the wacky priest. Some sort of marble, vaguely orangish in color,
winked brightly up at him.
"Huh.... thanks," he muttered at the cartoon picture as he stuffed the
empty box in the garbage can. With no more thought about it, he hurriedly
dashed through the shower and dressed for school. Minutes later, still damp
under his school uniform, he glared at his reflection in the mirror.
"Stupid tie," he muttered, struggling with the knot. He hated ties.
Oh well, he could fix it later. He snatched his bookbag off the chair and
shot Malachai a resentful look. "Well, so long, you lucky bastard," he said
to the cat asleep on his pillow. Wish I could sleep all day like that, he
thought.
He grabbed his black and orange jacket, absently stuffing the marble
into one pocket. Jacket slung over his shoulder, he thudded down the steps
and into the kitchen. Rats. Mama was there with her spoon, warding him off
from the customers' plates. So much for stealing a bite. He mumbled a hasty
"Ja Ne," carefully staying out of range of the spoon.
Kento burst recklessly through the flowered curtain into what his
Father affectionately referred to as "The Mess Hall" and stopped short.
"Hey!" He glared openly at the skinny blue-haired boy who sat at a
table, wolfing down a plate of waffles and hashbrowns.
"Hey, yourself, Shamu," retorted the boy rudely, blue eyes flashing
from beneath his unkempt bangs.
"Hey, you bum," growled Kento, "How come you get a nice hot breakfast
and I don't?!" Rowen slurped the last of his Miso soup noisily, peering over
the edge of the bowl at his friend.
"Prob'ly cuz your Mom always liked ME best."
"Brat," muttered Kento, picking up an empty dish. "The least you coulda
done was save me some pickles."
"In your dreams, pal," remarked Rowen coolly, spearing a chunk of
steaming tofu. Kento dove after an untouched bowl of rice and nano and
gobbled it down fiercely.
"Hey!" protested Rowen, then glanced at his watch.
"Jeez!" he yelped. "Lookit the time!!"
"Huh?!" Kento's head jerked up, rice stuck to his chin.
"Come ON!" commanded Rowen, grabbing him by the arm and jerking him
away from the table. (Quite a feat, considering their difference in size.
The only thing stronger than Kento's urge to eat was Rowen's passion for
learning. )"We're gonna miss the bus, idiot!"he snapped.
He was nearly right. They made the green and white city bus with only
moments to spare. Squeezing in amidst the jam of morning commuters, Kento
turned to Rowen triumphantly.
"See? We made it!"
"No thanks to you," snarled Rowen.
"Oh, shut up," said Kento, settling himself in for the hour-long ride
to school.
In his rush, he had not noticed the hole in his jacket pocket. Nor
did he notice when the shiny ball fell through it. Now, as the bus pulled
away, the ball rolled to the side of the road. Unnoticed by anyone, it
glimmered sullenly from the muck in the gutter. Waiting.
The clock tower on the schoolgrounds chimed 3:15. Kento sighed, leaning
on the chainlink fence next to the basketball courts. Impatiently, he
scanned the swirl of students milling past him. School was out, so where the
Hell was Rowen?
Smack!
A stinging slap across the back of his head answered his question.
"Ow...." growled Ken, rubbing the spot and glaring at Rowen, now perched on
the fence behind him. He'd never heard him coming - guy moved like a
goddamned ghost. Rowen waved cheerfully.
"Hi!"
"A pleasure as always, sir," muttered Ken ruefully.
"Charmed," grinned his friend, sassy as ever.
"Took you long enough," complained Kento peevishly.
"Awwww..." said Rowen, rolling his eyes in disgust. "I got another
detention."
"AGAIN?!!" Ken's eyes widened. "What for THIS time?" Rowen winked at
him devilishly.
"The Usual. What else?" Kento groaned.
"Oh, No - ROWEN!! Will you just leave the girls' skirts alone?! You're
gonna get in major trouble!"
Rowen shrugged, tossing his blue hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah, but it was worth it."
Not again, thought Kento wearily. He was well aware of his friend's
exploits.
"You shoulda seen it, man." Rowen's eyes glazed over, shining with a
distant, lustful light. "She had on the most excellent pair of black
lace-mf!!"
Kento slapped a hand over Rowen's mouth, glaring at him in disgust.
"For God's SAKE, Rowen!! I don't want to hear about your adventures in
PantyLand, OK?!" His friend pulled free and gave him a wounded look.
"Spoil sport. Just 'cuz you've never been there doesn't mean you have
to get jealou - OW!"
"Jerk," muttered Kento.
"You're no fun," pouted Rowen, rubbing his arm where he'd been hit.
Kento grunted and leaned his arms on the fence, causing it to sag slightly.
He peered up at Rowen.
"So... what do you want to do with the rest of today?" His friend
shrugged.
"Idunno. Whatta you wanna do?"
"I dunno. Whadda YOU wanna do?"
"Hmmmm," thought Rowen, scowling. His face suddenly brightened.
"Wanna graffiti the Boys' room?"
"No."
"Wanna go look up girls' skirts under the train platform?"
"NO." Ken rumbled dissaprovingly. "Pervert. That's what got you in
trouble already today."
"Ok. Wanna pick a fight with Boi and Kowasaki?" he asked eagerly.
"We did that yesterday. We lost, remember?"
"Fine. Let's go moon cars off the expressway."
" I DON"T think so," snarled Ken. Rowen scowled, slouching against the
fence.
"I'm bored," he complained. Kento scratched his thatch of blue-grey
hair, trying to come up with some activity that wouldn't land them both in
trouble. Or jail. Rowen bored spelled mayhem. He snapped his fingers.
"Hey - get a load of this thing," he said, reaching into his pocket.
"I got something cool to show you." Mildly interested, Rowen watched him
fumbling through his pockets. He cocked his head, blue hair falling over
one eye.
"So watcha got?" A frown creased his friend's round face.
"Rats! I got a damn hole in my pocket - I musta lost it!"
"Oh," shrugged Rowen without much interest. "What was it anyway?"
"Nuthin' special, I guess," mumbled Kento. He was disappointed though -
it had been an awfully nice marble. He slouched against the fence alonside
Rowen and sighed irritably. Now what?
"Kento!" His head popped up at his name. A cheerful boy with red-brown
hair waved at him excitedly. running at full speed up the walkway. His loose
blue jacket flapped behind him; his face was flushed from running. Kento
grinned and waved his thick hand in greeting.
"Hey, Cye! C'mere."
Not that he needed any encouragement. Cye was new at the school, and
had taken to following Kento around like an eager blue shadow these past
few weeks. Ken didn't mind. Cye was a nice kid, sweet-natured and shy. Not
all like Rowen.
"Ow!" yelped Kento, rubbing his leg where Rowen had kicked him. The
blue-haired boy jerked his thumb at Cye, who was still coming at a run.
"You friends with that Poof?" Kento scowled.
"He's NOT a Poof!" he hissed fiercely.
Cye came pattering up to them, grinning and exuding a sickening level
of cheerfullness that made Rowen wince.
"Suuuuurrre he's not...." he whispered low. Kento glared at him again.
Cye screeched to a halt before the fence, panting.
"Hi, Kento!!" he crowed happily. Rowen flinched, pulling up his collar
to shield himself from cheerful-cooties. Kento grinned at Cye, who was
somewhat dusty from his run.
"Hiya, buddy! How's it goin'?" Cye returned his grin.
"Super!" Ken gave him a thumbs' up sign.
"Hey - thanks for those knishes last Friday. I never had THOSE before -
they were GREAT!!" Cye giggled.
"Thanks. Glad you liked 'em."
Rowen, his back turned on the chatty pair, sneered over his shoulder at
Kento.
"So now he COOKS for you?" Ken gave him a surreptitious kick, silently
reminding himself to ask Rowen later who it was that had put the bug up his
ass. Rowen was normally a pain, but today he was being downright OBNOXIOUS.
Cye peered over at him, blue eyes bright with interest.
"Hey, Kento - who's your friend?" Rowen hunched his shoulders, face
half-hidden by his collar.
"None 'a your business, fluffy," he snarled unreceptively. Kento
laughed.
"This is my pal Grumpy," he said, snatching a handful of blue hair and
jerking his head to face Cye. "...Also known as Rowen."
Cye started to extend a hand in friendship, then dropped it. His happy
expression shifted to shock before degenerating into a scowl.
"Hey!!" He stabbed an accusing finger at Rowen. "I know YOU!!" Ken
looked at the two of them in confusion. Cye stamped his foot in the dust.
"YOU'RE the guy who wrote 'Poof' on my locker!!"
Rowen shrugged.
"So what about it?"
"You JERK!!" Cye exploded, gesturing angrily, "Do you know what they
DID to me in gym class?!!" He was practically shrieking. Rowen sneered
haughtily.
"That's what you get for bein' a Poof. Everybody hates Poofs."
Cye's hands dropped to his sides, his mouth open. He snapped it shut.
"Don't call me that," he intoned, suddenly quiet and cold. He said it
so softly that Kento almost didn't hear him. Rowen, safely behind the fence,
teased the bear.
"Poooooofffff...." he crooned in a sing-song voice, enjoying the
outraged look on Cye's face. He looked ready to burst.
"Knock it off," Ken snapped. He turned to a seething Cye. "Ignore him -
he's just being a dick. He doesn't mean anything by it." Cye's turqouise
eyes flashed dangerously.
"Oh, he's a dick, alright. And yeah, he means it." He folded his arms.
Rowen's eyes narrowed angrily.
"What're you gonna do about it, Poofy-Boy?" he challenged. Cye pinned
him with his eyes.
"Come over on THIS side of the fence and call me that." Rowen almost
fell on the ground laughing. This new kid was really asking for it. Cye was
several inches shorter than he, and was so slender he looked as though he
might be blown over by a strong breeze. The long fluffy hair that blew in
his eyes made him look almost like a girl.
A Poof if I ever saw one, thought Rowen. He laughed derisively and
vaulted over the fence.
"Rowen, DON'T - " warned Ken. But there was no stopping him.
"Poof, Poof, Poof, Poof, Poof..." taunted Rowen, flapping his wrists
limply at Cye. A white hand shot out, snaring his wrist. "wha-" began Rowen,
but he had time for nothing more. Abruptly he was jerked forward and back.
He felt the world spin around him as he flipped through the air. Rowen saw
sky, earth, sky, earth, sky-
"OW!!!" He landed hard on his back in the dirt, and found himself
staring up at Cye. The smaller boy looked down at him smugly, smiling that
sweet, infuriating smile of his.
"I TOLD you not to call me that." Kento's mouth was a round O of
astonishment. Rowen shook his spinning head, seeing roughly three Cyes
looming over him. The young man gazed down at him coolly.
"Don't mess with the Poof, pal."
Rowen staggered to his feet, weaving unsteadily. His face twisted into
a scowl.
"You little punk!!" he screamed, charging at Cye. They both went down
in the dirt, scuffling and cursing. Kento watched them tussle for a minute.
Then, with a disgusted sigh, he heaved himself off the fence and separated
the two combatants. ( Largely by virtue of picking up Rowen and tossing him
back over the fence.) This action earned him snarls and surly looks from
both of them. Cye wiped dirt from his face with the back of his sleeve.
"Bring that little coward back over here - I'm not done with him yet."
He started for the fence, but Kento stepped into his path.
"Yes you are," he rumbled firmly. Wisely, Cye chose not to argue. He
made a face at Rowen, who glowered back at him. Kento gave them both
disgusted looks.
"C'mon, you guys, cut the crap! This is stupid." He jerked his head
towards the basketball courts. "Look, if you two wanna kill each other,
that's fine - but save it for a game or something important like that." He
picked up his bag and headed towards the asphalt playing area. "C'mon.
There's a court opening up and I'm gonna play, with or without you."
Cye and Rowen, still glaring daggers at eachg other, grudgingly
followed him. He sighed inwardly, looking back at the muttering pair, hoping
this shit wasn't going to continue.
Padding onto the hot asphalt, Cye dropped his bookbag and looked around.
"Hey - there's only three of us." Kento shrugged, stripping off his
jacket and dress shirt.
"So? You'n me'll play Rowen." He kicked off his shoes and rummaged in
his bag for his sneakers. Cye paused in removing his tie, brows knitting.
"That doesn't sound very fair...."
"Hah!" snorted Rowen, tossing aside his shirt and flexing his wirey
arms. "I can beat the BOTH of you." Cye arched an eyebrow at him.
"You're ON, pal." As the other two stretched a bit prior to the game,
he peeled out of his pale blue dress shirt and folded it neatly on his
jacket. He didn't want to get it any dirtier than it already was. As it
was, his mother was going to have a fit. He turned around and frowned. The
other two boys were staring at him. Cye looked puzzled.
"What?" He glanced down at the perky yellow smiley-face on his T-shirt.
The printing read: "Hug The World." Rowen rolled his eyes at Kento, who
ignored the gesture.
"C'mon, Cye, let's play. You guard Rowen."
"'Kay," he shrugged, joining them.
They played for awhile, working up a sweat. Kento found (somewhat to
his releif) that Cye was a decent ballplayer. Great at shooting the basket,
though not nearly as agressive as he needed to be. The only agression he
displayed involved the unbeleivable number of fouls he made against Rowen.
Giving as good as he got, Rowen fouled him right back.
Kento winced as Cye bounced off the pavement for the fourth time in as
many minutes. Boy, he's much tougher than he looks, thought Ken. Cye jumped
right back up, smiled sweetly at Rowen, and threw him the ball - somewhat
harder than neccessary. And... his aim was a little low - not on accident,
either, Kento realized as Rowen caught it and gave Cye a nasty look. If he
hadn't had such quick reflexes, Rowen might've ended up singing soprano in
the Vienna Boys' Choir.
The two sidled around each other, breathing hard. Ken had the ball,
dribbling it slowly from hand to hand, looking for an opening around Rowen.
He's FAST, thought Kento ruefully. Like a bug on water. He didn't even look
winded. Despite the odds, Rowen was two points up on them. Kento, tired as
he was, was not about to give up now.
He darted in, dodging around Cye, who was guarding Rowen. Cye was
between them, but Rowen ran him over like he wasn't even there. Before Kento
could react, Rowen was on top of him spilling him onto the asphalt and
turning the b-ball game into an impromptu wrestling match.
He LOST, of course. Kento saw to THAT. They were both laughing,
though - it wasn't a serious fight. Rowen sometimes screwed around and threw
a game for the hell of it.
"Baka!" reprimanded Kento, pinning his squirming friend in a sweaty
headlock. "You KNOW better than that!!" Rowen thrashed around in his grip.
Unfortunately for him, all his struggling only succeeded in him getting his
face wedged in Kento's armpit - which was a TERRIBLE place to be.
"Blg rk, grrrg aaurk ng!" he sputtered, trying to twist free. Cye was
on the ground, dying from laughter.
"Hlgf mmmf!!"
"What was that, old buddy?" yelled Ken, tightening his grip. "I can't
hear ya!" Rowen flopped like a dying fish, flailing desperately. Mercifully,
Kento let him go. More in self-defense, really - Rowen was not afraid to
bite him.
"Pff, bleugh! Ughh - YeeUCK!!" he exclaimed, his blue hair sticking up
wildly. He was practically green.
"You dumb prick!" he gasped. "I'll get you for that." Kento grinned
fiendishly.
"Hell, you had it coming!" Cye giggled in agreement. Rowen stuck his
tongue out at him.
"Geez, Rowen, isn't it about time you grew up?"
Rowen jerked upright suddenly. A look close to panic flashed across his
face. "Jeez!" he hissed, shooting a wild look at the sun, now low in the sky.
"I gotta go home! Now!!" He jumped to his feet, tossing the ball in
Cye's direction. Rowen fumbled with his clothing, twisting into his shirt.
"I - I'll see you guys later." Cye gave him a baffled look, still seated
on the pavement.
"But.... you were WINNING! Don't go yet -"
"I HAVE to!!" spit Rowen, snatching up his coat and dufflebag.
"S'ya tomorrow," he tossed back at Kento, running off the court. Cye
looked after his retreating form, confused. He turned to Kento, concerned.
"What's the matter with - " he began, but got no reply. Kento was
gazing grimly after his friend, a look of mingled anger and guilt marring
his face. Never before had Cye seen anyone look like that. Kento shook
himself a little and grunted, squinting at the sun.
"He's right. 'Bout time I went home too."
"What?!" yelped Cye. "Not you too!" He gave Kento such a distressed
look that it surprised him. "C'mon," Cye pleaded. "Don't quit now!"
Scratching his head, Kento sighed tiredly. He was going to feel this game
tomorrow.
"Oh... okay. One more set." Cye perked up brightly. Kento shook his
head and grinned. He seemed to starved for company, he couldn't just leave
him there.
"After this one, though, I GOTTA go home," He remarked, dribbling the
ball between his legs.
"What for? It's not late or anything." Ken grinned.
"I know, but if I'm not home by 6:30, Dad gets my desert." Cye laughed.
"Good motivation." He looked at Ken's stomach. "I see you haven't been
late yet!" he teased.
"That's it," rumbled Ken in mock ferocity. "I'm gonna clean up the
court with ya!"
Laughing, the two friends played for awhile longer as twilight slowly
descended over the nearly empty schoolgrounds.
Rowen made his way home alone.
YIKES, gasped Kento inwardly, glancing at a businessman's watch
nervously. 6:10 already. He had finally begged off from his game with Cye
and would barely get home in time to defend his plate from Dad. Why was
the bus being so Goddamn slow tonight? He peered out the window at the
glowering sky and felt sorry for people who had to walk home. Streaks of
rain slashed angrily at the smeary glass. Kento heard a low rumble of
thunder above the din of the bus engine.
At his stop, he launched himself off the bus, trying to shield his
head from the sudden downburst with his bookbag.
"Yuck!" he winced, feeling the cold sting of rain. The wind snatched
at his clothes as he ran the three blocks to his house. He raced up the
iron staircase that lead to his family's upstairs apartment. Swearing
inventively at the weather, he fumbled his key in the lock and fell
gratefully into the warm apartment. With some effort, he managed to slam
the door against the wind.
"Ugh," he muttered, dropping his books on the floor and peeling out
of his wet jacket. His damp hair streamed in his eyes. Disgustedly, he
pushed it back.
"Where did THAT awful stuff come from?"
Rain made him moody. He hated cold, damp weather. Fortunately for Kento,
he abruptly became aware of something else that lifted his spirits
considerably. Food. He raised his head, snuffing loudly. His nostrils
flared at the delicious aromas wafting up from the resturaunt below. His
empty stomach rumbled, loud as the thunder booming outside.
"Okay, okay, I'll feed you," he chuckled. Still shaking water out of
his hair, he slipped through the cluttered den and tiny kitchenette. Both
his parents would be downstairs at this hour. Careful not to make any
noise (which was difficult on the creaky steps), he eased himself down the
back staircase. Cautiously, he eased the door to the resturaunt kitchen
open. A wall of food-smells rolled around him like caressing hands. He
closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Heaven, thought Kento, I'm in Heaven. His mouth watering uncontrollably,
he stole a look around the kitchen. No one in sight. He was alone with all
that food. A great many delicious things were bubbling, cooking and
simmering around him. What drew his eye was that golden, steaming mound of
roasted hens on the far counter. Licking his lips, he looked around. The
smell of the meat mesmerized him. The stack of hens seemed to call: "Eat us,
Kento..... Eeaaat ussss...." Stunned and stupified by their glorious odor,
he was drawn in like fish on a line. So close. They wouldn't miss just one,
would they?
Knowing very well that he shouldn't, he scooted along the edge of the
counter, his eyes fixed on the hens. Enchanting creatures. He stretched
out a stealthy hand to snatch one.
K-RACK!!
The well-worn back of a massive wooden spoon came down squarely across
his knuckles.
"EeYii-Yii-Yii- OwWow OUCH!!" he yelped, dancing backwards, shaking
his smarting hand in agony. HellDevil had claimed another victim. Kento
gulped, staring at the spoon, doomed eyes traveling slowly up its wicked
length. None other than Mama herself stood on the other end of HellDevil,
shaking her head dissaprovingly.
"KENTO!" she scolded in avoice that made him wince nearly as much as
the spoon had. He ducked his head sheepishly, sucking on his sore hand.
Mama swiped the graying hairs from her face with an irritated gesture. Her
blue eyes fixed on his.
"Those are the CUSTOMERS' hens. You KNOW better!"
"But..." he all but whimpered, drooling pathetically. HellDevil flashed
beneath his nose. He gulped hard, eyes crossing as he stared at the thing
like a bird staring at a snake. Mama Fung growled.
"Not one more step, young man," she warned. For a terrifying moment,
the spoon hovered beneath his nose. Then she raised it in a sweeping gesture
that made Kento flinch. HellDevil directed him towards the curtain.
"Scat!" hissed Mama fiercely. "Go find a table and WAIT like you're
supposed to." Nervously, Kento edged his way around the spoon, scooting
between it and the wall. At the door, his good sense deserted him and he
paused a little too long. He turned beseeching eyes towards his mother.
"C'mon... can't I have just a little taste -"
SWAT!!
HellDevil connected solidly with the seat of his trousers and his
resultant yelp was enough to make sveral patrons in the resturaunt jump. A
very subdued-looking Kento tried to act nonchalant as he edged, somewhat
stiffly, into the room. Several customers shot him startled glances as he
emerged, red-faced from the kitchen. Fortunately he found a corner table to
hide himself at. He sat gingerly, wincing at the spot where the spoon had
landed.
Ouch. Now both his hand and his rear hurt - and he was still just as
hungry as ever. Hungrier, he thought forlornly. Blinking away a stray tear,
he rubbed his poor hand. Everyone around him was eating and talking,
eating and laughing, eating and having a good time... but mostly eating.
He swallowed hard, trying not to stare. With a little whimper, he lowered
his head to the table. This was torture! He gave a long-suffering moan as
he watched the food disappearing around him. Miso, tofu, chow mein, burgers,
spaghetti, everything. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands so he
wouldn't have to look.
Sensing someone standing over him, he looked up. Mama was there,
spoon still in her grip. He glanced at the thing nervously unwilling to
take his eyes off it.
"Uh...." he began.
"Give me your hand," his mother said quietly. He winced. Not again!
"Give me your hand," she said, a little more forcefully this time.
Wincing in anticipation, he held out his sore knuckles. To his surprise,
she kissed them. He looked up to see her smiling at him.
"It's not THAT bad. You'll live." He drew his hand back ruefully, not
sure that he agreed with her.
"Here," she said, setting a large covered platter in front of him.
"This should make you feel better." Kento lifted the cover and peeked
underneath. Not only a hen in a bed of rice, but honeyed tofu, ramen platter,
chowmein and a host of other goodies lurked under there. He beamed up at his
mother, knowing that he was forgiven.
"Silly," she admonished gently. "You know I'll always feed you. You
don't have to steal." Feeling guilty but grateful, he bowed his head.
"Gomenasai. I'm sorry, but...." He sighed heavily. "Your cooking is so
fantastic I just can't help myself!"
"Well, you come by THAT honestly," she muttered, spying Tetsuo in the
kitchen helping himself to some fried eels. "Fink," she rumbled, heading
back in. Kento chuckled. He knew she wouldn't dare hit his father with that
spoon, but there might be..... other penalties. He wasn't sure what they
might be.
Turning his attention back to his dinner, he attacked it with his usual
gusto. What it might have taken a family of four an hour to eat, was gone in
twenty minutes. including seconds on desert. Stuffed and happy now, Kento
felt himself getting sleepy. Can't have that, he thought, shoving himself
away from the table. He still had studying to do. Licking his fingers as he
went, he headed upstairs to hit the books.
Two hours later, the books started hitting back. Beginning calculus,
English 101 and Ancient History had all taken their toll on him. He stared
blearily at the wall clock. Only 9:30 and he was ready to lie down and die.
He looked at his cat, who was sprawled across a book, sound asleep.
I wish I were a cat, thought Kento wearily. Cats don't have to study
Algebreic rythms.
With a giant yawn, he pushed his chair back from the table. He stacked
the books more or less neatly, prying Japanese History of the 1400s out
from under Malachai. The cat gave him a pissy look.
"Tough luck, furball," he muttered, scratching the black and white
tom under his chin. Malachai purred sleepily. He dropped down from the
table and padded after Kento into his bedroom. Malachai sat back on his
tail and watched the young man undress, leaving a trail of dirty clothes
between bed and bathroom. Malachai scratched an ear, wondering vaguely why
humans had so little fur. Kento and most others had plenty on top of their
heads (where it was impossible to groom properly) but little elsewhere.
His father Tetsuo had even less fur now than he used to. With a catly shrug,
he followed his furless friend into the tiled bathroom. And immediately
fled. Kento, apparently having reached peak insanity, was standing in the
large tub under that contraption which (shudder!) sprayed WATER on people!
Well, it was supposed to, anyway.
Kento cursed, fussing with the shower knobs. There was no water.
"Stupid piece of European crap!" he snarled, hitting the shower head
with his fist. Damn thing.... The pipes in the old building rattled and
clanged fitfully. Kento squinted into the showerhead and yelled as cold
water suddenly sprayed him in the face. Shivering and chattering, he managed
to adjust the water temperature to that elusive point between "Freeze your
ass off" and "Burn your ass off".
Twitching his tail, convinced that his friend had lost his mind,
Malachai curled up in the dirty clothes and waited for him to regain his
senses. It proved to be a long wait. For now Kento was mangling "All of Me"
in a cracked baritone. Malachai retreated under the bed as Kento switched
to abusing "Journey", "Men at Work", and all the Van Halen he could
remember.
Only when all the hot water was gone did he emerge. He towelled himself
off hastily, dragging on his pajamas and robe. After more splashing noises,
he came out. Malachai peered at him warily. Was the singing over? Yes. Had
the water stopped its terrible rushing? Yes. Was his friend sane again?
This, he wasn't too sure about.
Kento staggered sleepily out of the bathroom, ready to snooze for a
week. Ruefully, he set his alarm clock, which SOME generous soul had
thoughtfully patched together for him using duct-tape and..... He peered
closer. Were those staples? Probably. Most of his father's repair jobs
involved the liberal application of staples. Including those ofa few
household appliances and their '79 Toyota. Kento shrugged, setting the
vaguely clock-shaped object down on his nightstand. Whatever worked.
He turned towards the bed and froze. What in the WORLD?! He blinked
hard at his dresser.
IT was back, glowing softly in the dim light, as though lit by an
inner fire. Waiting patiently for him. Kento stared at the marble. What
was it doing here? He picked it up, scratching his head, then smiled. Well,
of course - that was it. He padded towards the kitchen
Mama, in dishwater up to her elbows, was somewhat surprised when her
son ambled up and kissed her on the cheek.
"Oh. Hello, NightOwl," she murmered, kissing him back.
"Thanks, Mom," he said, looking at his marble.
"What? Oh, you're welcome, dear," she replied absently. She was quite
tired after her long day.
"I thought it was gone for good. Thanks for finding it for me." Mama
looked up from her washing to stare at him.
"WHAT was gone for good?"
"You know - this thing." He extended his palm with the crystal in it.
It's surface flashed bright orange in the flourescent light.
"Why, how pretty!" Mama exclaimed. "Wherever did you get it?" Kento
shrugged.
"It was in the cereal this morning and - Wait a minute. You mean you
didn't find it someplace and put it in my room?" Mama Fung smiled.
"Goodness, no, dear. I'm not THAT brave. I wouldn't want to go in
there alone!" Kento frowned, holding the little globe up to the light. He
stared at the shifting colors for awhile. It almost looked like there was
something written inside, but he couldn't tell what it was.
"How'd it get in there, then?"