Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ To Fight for Life and Love ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )
Title: To Fight for Life and Love
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, shounen-ai, rape, language, Aya-bastardization ^_^
Spoilers: none
Pairings: KenxOmi
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz or any associated characters
Archive: yes, just let me know where it is
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Clack-clack-clack….clackclack…..clack…clack.
The sound of wood striking wood filled his ears as the sun beat down. He growled furiously as he fought to find an opening. As they continued their dance, Ken found himself facing the sun more and more often making it hard for him to see his assailant. Strike, block, block and move. Ken shifted his stance trying to circle around the other warrior. He wiped at the sweat that had begun to trickle down his face. His eyes darted around the arena, watching all that was going on while he still waited for an opening.
The light shined off a blonde head on the edge of the crowd. Ken took a quick glance in that direction and felt a smile lift his lips. Unfortunately, it distracted Ken long enough for the other man to rush in. Hearing the cry of the warrior, Ken turned in time to see the sword bearing down on him. He was just able to turn so he wouldn't be hit head on, but he wasn't quick enough to completely avoid it. Lights danced across his vision as he bit back a cry of pain. The blow had landed almost directly on his wound. He felt his skin break slightly and something warm slide down his back.
"By the gods! I told you to take it easy on him!" a gruff voice yelled from the crowd. Ken blinked rapidly, trying to fix his vision. The other man just shrugged and walked away.
"Kid! Yeah, you! Go fix him up, again!" the voice again ordered.
Ken felt rather than saw a small figure make its way to his side. A soft hand was placed on his back and helped guide the injured warrior out of the arena. Once in the shade, Ken was able to make out who the person with him was. Omi. The boy was kneeling by Ken's side, examining the reopened wound. A cold cloth ran over his chest causing him to shudder.
"I told you to take it easy, didn't I?" Omi reprimanded his dark haired companion. Ken just smiled and tried to turn his head to face him.
"I wasn't the one that hit me. I was just defending myself."
"You weren't paying attention."
Ken blushed slightly at the reply. Sure, he *had* been distracted. But the other man didn't have to hit him that hard. They sat in silence for a while; Omi cleaning the injury while Ken enjoyed the company and short rest.
"I'm going to have to rebind it. Be more careful this time, alright?" Omi told Ken while wrapping his shoulder.
"I was careful. Hell, they gave me a week off and look what happened. Besides, I can't afford to back down. I need to step up my training, become the best." Ken replied somberly. He fiddled with the sword by his side. The moments stretched between them as Ken sat in thought.
"Is there any hope?" Ken asked so quietly Omi barely heard him.
"Hope for what?" Omi asked finishing his work and kneeling beside the young warrior. As Ken shifted closer, Omi suddenly skittered back a few feet. Brown eyes watched as the boy became more agitated and nervous.
"Freedom," Ken sounded so fragile and lonely it made Omi calm down and study the speaker from his position. Ken still had some hope for freedom, still thought it existed. Omi was silent for so long that Ken didn't know if he had heard him, "There's a way out of this, right? I won't just keep fighting my whole life, or even…"
He didn't want to finish that thought. He would stay alive. He couldn't die yet. Omi shifted beside him so that Ken could now see his face.
"I've never given it much thought. You have a much better chance at freedom then others," Ken perked up as Omi voiced his thoughts, "but it might not be the way you wish it to be. You can either be granted your freedom, which is very rare, or you will die in the arena. Either way, you won't be fighting for very long."
Ken fought to keep the despair he felt hidden. The clacks of the wooden swords and grunts of the practicing gladiators reached his ears. He listened to the sounds he had come to know so well, following the patterns he himself practiced. Clack-clack-clack, grunt, clack-clack, yell, clack-clack-clack, grunt.
"What about you?" Ken suddenly turned, facing the younger boy, "Do you have any hope? Of becoming free, that is. Do you ever think of returning home and putting all this behind you?"
He motioned to their bleak surroundings. Omi followed Ken's hand. Ken watched his companion, his eyes tracing the boy's outline. Blonde hair swayed in the wind as Omi shook his head. Confusion lined Ken's face as he took in Omi's reaction.
"Why not?" he asked quietly.
"I've never known freedom. I've always dreamt of it, wondered what it was like, but I've always known that I'll never get it," wistful sapphire eyes meet soft brown for a moment then quickly diverted to watch the gladiators practice again.
"You mean, you've always been a slave?" Ken couldn't imagine living his whole life in servitude. Omi silently nodded his affirmation, "But, don't you believe that you will be free one day, Omi?"
"What?" Omi asked, more in surprise that the dark haired youth had called him by name than the question. He thought about the inquiry, not knowing what to say, "Freedom? I've never truly considered it an option. For now, I'm one of the only slaves with such good medical training. If I were to leave, I would have to take the time to train someone else which could take years depending on how good they were. Then I would have to buy my freedom."
Omi pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. He seemed so innocent and child like. Omi's eyes remained trained on the people before him, but Ken was sure he was aware of everything around him. That was, until a butterfly landed on his head, flapping his wings for all the world like he belonged there. The sight was too endearing not to smile at. As the first butterfly stretched its wings, another joined it. Omi was oblivious to his two followers. Ken felt a soft laugh form in his chest, slowly rising to escape from his mouth.
Omi turned to stare at his companion as Ken was racked with laughter. The butterflies didn't move as their resting area shook violently. Just when he thought his could control his amusement, Ken looked over at Omi. The butterflies looked like decorations clipped onto the blonde hair. And they made Omi look feminine. Ken found himself crying from laughing so hard. The other boy looked around, trying to find the source of the older boy's amusement. The butterflies clung to his hair; the only sign of their annoyance was the flapping of their small wings.
"What?" Omi finally asked, exasperated, "What are you laughing at?"
The boy looked really cute with that pout on this face. And his winged companions only added to his innocent looking appearance. Gaining control of himself, Ken wiped away his tears and smiled at the boy.
"It's nothing." he replied not convincing the young boy in the slightest.
"It is something," the boy pressed, "Tell me!"
Ken knew he was making Omi angry, but he couldn't help it. He smiled again and leaned back on his arms, an air of smugness in his demeanor. Omi continued to pester Ken. A slight breeze picked up, cooling the late afternoon air. Ken felt extremely content, doing nothing but relaxing and joking with, he silently wished, a new friend. It felt so good to laugh again. He didn't remember the last time he had taken the time to enjoy himself. With Omi, he felt happy. And he didn't want to lose that.
"How is your school doing?"
Youji glanced over his shoulder as his red headed friend gracefully swept into the room. He smirked and went back to studying the papers before him. He felt intense violet eyes study him before wandering around the room. He knew what Ran would think. The room was too small and simple for his tastes. Too plain and cheap. But when you were used to living in worse conditions, a room this size with anything in it seemed extravagant. After letting the aristocrat wait for a few more moments, Youji turned his attention to him.
"My school is doing quite well, as you know." Youji turned to fill a small cup with water. A soft snort followed by the rustle of clothing let the blonde know that Ran had chosen a seat. He took a sip from the cup, taking the time to savor the water in it, "Why are you here, Ran?"
"You need help, Youji. Only you don't want to admit it." While his eyes strayed around the room, Ran remained attentive to Youji's actions.
"Why are you here, Ran?"
"You know why."
"This isn't about needing your help anymore, is it? There's some other reason for your visit," Youji turned to face the other man, "am I right?"
Ran refused to meet his gaze and answered with a 'hmph'. The afternoon light streamed into the room but was unable to make the situation any more cheerful. The sounds of the practicing gladiators reached the men's ears breaking the tense silence of the room. Youji tilted his head, following the course of the practice and nodding his head every now and then as though agreeing with someone. Ran made his way to the room's small window and glanced outside. He watched as groups of fighters engaged in false battle, kicking up dirt and running into spectators.
"I want to see a battle," he kept his gaze on the scene below them, "A few of your gladiators. A fight to the death."
"Death? Ran, you don't mean that," Youji pleaded with the aristocrat. Violet eyes burned into green silencing Youji before he could continue.
"I do mean it. I want to see the caliber of your students. The best way to do that is to pit them against each other in a battle. Wouldn't you agree?"
The intensity of Ran's eyes disturbed Youji. Instinctively, Youji backed up a step before standing his ground. His eyes soon matched Ran's in intensity as neither would back down from his position.
"I am not having my warriors kill each other for your enjoyment," Youji stated icily, "I'm not wasting good fighters for nothing. They may have a chance to live and you want to waste a few for nothing."
"You can always find more of their kind. Their lives are used for nothing but the enjoyment of others. What is the difference if they die here or in the arena? Either way, it's for someone's amusement."
Violet clashed with emerald as they stood their ground. Neither was willing to back down. Finally, without letting go of the other man's gaze, Ran reached down and played with something at his waist for a moment. He brought his hand into Youji's vision holding a small cloth bag. Youji stared at it for a moment before Ran shoved it into his hand.
"That should pay for some of your men. Now you lose no money."
Youji hung his head in defeat. There was no way out of this. He could either take the money and be reimbursed for his loss, or Ran would force him to put on the show with no compensation. He felt horrible.
"Not today," he managed to say, "Give them some time to prepare."
Ran brushed past his friend quickly, heading for the door.
"One week," his voice floated back to the blonde. As the door slammed shut behind the departing redhead, Youji let himself fall onto one of the small chairs in the room. He laughed bitterly while throwing the coin purse on the desk.
"One week. I have one week to do something about this shit."
Hours slid by quickly turning the bright afternoon into dark night. The gladiators were sitting around, talking idly and finishing their meal. None of them noticed the pair of eyes watching them. Youji sighed and leaned against the window frame. The crisp night air danced with his loose blonde tresses and filled his lungs with the scent of fall. A soft knock on the door disturbed the peaceful moment. Without turning around, Youji bade the person enter. He heard feet pad across the room and stop halfway. Waiting for another minute, Youji finally turned to greet his visitor. Before him was a boy not much older than sixteen with flaxen colored hair holding a tray.
"What is it, boy?" Youji bit out harsher than he would have preferred. The boy's head remained bowed as he set the tray on the table.
"You're dinner, master. You never came for it so they sent me."
Youji approached the boy and looked at what he had been given. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"It looks good." He reached out and ruffled the kid's hair. He felt and saw the boy tense up. The boy turned to leave as soon as Youji had removed his hand. Before he was able to reach the door, Youji's voice stopped him.
"You're…Omi. Am I right?" surprised by the fact that anyone knew his name, especially his master, Omi nodded dumbly, "Thank you, Omi, for delivering this."
Omi turned again to leave when Youji's voice stopped him once more.
"Boy…Omi…you work near the gladiators, don't you?" the taller blonde was looking out the window, staring at nothing. Omi nodded and waited for him to continue. Youji turned and faced the boy, "Do you not?"
Realizing his mistake, Omi blushed and lowered his gaze.
"Yes, I do."
"How do they fight? Are there any out there that would be merciful to his opponent? Or do they always kill?" the near desperation in the man's voice caught Omi by surprise. He did not dare raise his eyes though he was curious to see his master's reaction.
"I don't know, sir. I only tend to their wounds."
"But you still spend time with them. You must know what they're like then!" Youji was becoming quite distressed. If he could find a few gladiators that would be merciful……
"I try not to stay near them too much, sir." Omi shifted uncomfortably under his master's gaze. Why did he have to be questioned about this?
"Why is that? Are they too crude for you?" When Omi didn't answer, Youji sighed impatiently and threw himself onto a chair, "That is not my business, I suppose. But you mean to say that you don't know what any of the gladiators are like? Not one?"
"No, I don't." he responded. A thought suddenly struck the small blonde, "But, there is one that seems….different than the others."
One eyebrow quirked upwards as Youji turned away from his meal. Blue eyes gazed out the window as questions began to pour from the other man's mouth.
'I hope I'm not doing something horrible.'
"Youji!" a sweet voice cried out, echoing in the empty hallway. Green eyes focused on a small, figure running towards him with coal colored hair flying in the wind. A smile graced his features as he greeted the familiar girl.
"Aya! It's good to see you again. And have things been well for her highness?"
The girl erupted with giggles. She flung herself into Youji's arms and hugged him tightly which he returned. Just as Ran came into view. Violet eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at the two. Youji disentangled himself as quickly as possible without startling Aya. Ran coughed and quickly put himself between the two.
"Is everything ready?" the redhead asked. Youji nodded his head slightly, refusing to look at his friend. Whether the motion was noticed or not, Ran continued, "I would like to see the warriors."
"Now?" the question was asked deadpan.
"Yes. I would like to see who's available." Ran continued on his way although Youji had stopped. Aya stood undecided between the two.
"Available? What do you mean by that?" anger began to creep into the trainer's voice. Tilting his head slightly, Ran addressed the man.
"I would like to see who there is to choose from. I do not want to have bad gladiators for my show."
"Bad gladiators?! I've chosen the best! They work hard and…..wait….you mean to…"
"Aya," Ran called to the girl. Brown meet violent for a brief instant as their eyes meet, "Please leave us."
"Brother…"
"Now, Aya." came the harsh reply. With one glance back, Aya swiftly walked down the hallway, her robes swishing with her quick step.
"Ran," Youji began in a low voice. There was no sign that the man in front of him had heard him. Youji moved forward, his back rigid, "Ran, what the hell are you planning?"
"Youji, I would wish that you keep your hands off my sister from now on." the calm voice floated over the distance. Sighing in frustration, Youji leaned against the wall.
"That has nothing to do with what I want to know. What I want to know is why you think you can just choose who fights for you? You may have helped us out before, but this school no longer needs your support. You can no longer do as you please here."
"I paid for them." The answer cut Youji off.
"What does that mean?"
"I paid for my show. I want to make sure I get my money's worth. Therefore I think it is only proper that I get to choose who my fighters are." Ran turned to his friend, his violet eyes hard and unrelenting.
"You bastard! You think you can keep doing this? Keep pushing and pushing?! Wanting more, trying to make me think that I still need your help!"
"You accepted the money."
"Under the impression that I would be choosing the warriors."
"You still accepted it. That makes me a paying customer. And you wouldn't want to turn away a customer, would you?" one fine eyebrow quirked up as he stalked closer to his defeated friend. Youji hung his head, not wanting to meet Ran's gaze. Knowing he had won, Ran continued his way down the hall, "Show them to me."
"Bastard…" Youji growled under his breath as he pushed himself off the wall to follow the aristocrat.
"Looks like you're almost healed. Probably one or two more days then we can take the stitches out."
"Can't we just take them out now? What's another day or two?"
"Idiot."
"Oh…com'on Omi! Please?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's better to leave them in. The wound won't heal as well as it could if they're taken out now."
"But…"
"No!!"
A pout formed on Ken's face as Omi started cleaning up. Once the boy had his back turned Ken started fiddling with the stitches, plucking at them with his fingernails. A hand smacked his away sharply. Ken let out a cry of surprise and looked up to see a very annoyed Omi.
"Sorry," he muttered bowing his head in defeat. Omi nodded in reply and returned to his previous activity. A few moments later, voices were shouting outside the room. Curious, Ken walked to the door and peered out. Omi only glanced up briefly from his work.
The sun provided enough light for the warrior to be able to see. Both gladiators and slaves were running around, some carrying armor and weapons others carrying medical supplies. Ken watched for a few moments before he closed the door. He had never seen so much activity down here before. It reminded him of the games he had attended a few weeks before. The sound of metal clinking together jolted him from his reverie.
"What's the matter?" the blonde asked, gathering the last of his supplies.
"I…I don't know. It's like…the games out there. People running around." The brown haired boy sat on a nearby bench.
"Like…the games?" Omi asked quietly. The other boy nodded in response.
"Shit. I have to go. Just don't play with those stitches." he warned before he ran out the door leaving one confused gladiator behind.
"Don't play…oi…does he really think I'm that bad?!"
Ran stood at the front of the hall watching the people running around to get his fight ready. A small blonde ran past him, barely squeezing through the small area between the wall and the aristocrat. Ran barely cast a glance at him before perusing through the crowd again. Every few seconds he thought he saw a particular person, but he was always wrong. A tall blonde man came to stand beside him also gazing out over the crowd.
"Find anyone to your liking?" the contempt dripped from his voice.
"I need to seem them in the light. Line them up outside and I'll choose then." Ran turned quickly and collided with the small blonde from before. The boy fell to the floor dropping the water he had been carrying. Before he could get up or even apologize, a foot landed in his stomach knocking the wind out of him, "Clumsy slave. Watch what you do."
Ran stepped over the boy and left the busy room. He called to Youji and continued on his way without waiting to see if his friend had heard. Omi pushed himself out of the way of the passing people. Once he reached the wall he used that to push himself up and keep him steady. Picking up the bucket he had dropped, he tried to make his way back to the well but fell back against the clutching his stomach.
"Omi!" someone shouted over the noise of the hall. A strong hand grasped Omi's shoulder, holding him up, "Omi! Are you okay?"
The boy gazed up into soft, brown eyes. Still out of breath, he nodded and tried to walk away only to fall against the wall. Ken wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder trying to support him. Omi immediately tensed up. Ken began to walk away, but Omi wasn't following him.
"Omi?" he asked turning his head to look at the other boy. Fear and hatred twisted together in the boy's blue eyes making Ken's heart twist painfully. They stood like that for a moment before Omi moved, placing his hands on Ken's chest and shoving him away.
"Don't touch me!" he shouted over the noise. Ken stared in confusion as the boy fought to keep in control, "Don't ever touch me!"
"Omi?" the gladiator asked, concern written on his face. Not giving a reply, Omi turned and ran through the crowd of people. He ran as fast as he could not caring if he hit someone. Ken stayed where he was, not knowing how to react or if he should. Brown eyes stared at the place he had last seen the boy.
"Omi…"
"Everybody line up!!" a deep voice boomed over the mass of warriors. The group split into two groups and created a path with two lines on either side. Ken glanced around from where he was hoping to catch a glance of Omi, hoping that he was still around.
"Which are your best warriors?"
"All of them have their strengths and weaknesses so it's hard to say…"
"Which are your best?" the first voice interrupted. Ken turned his attention to the two men walking down the lines, the shorter redheaded one inspecting each gladiator while the other casually glanced at each man.
"I thought you were supposed to be good at deciding that. You never had a problem before telling me if my men were or weren't good enough for the arena."
The redhead stopped before a large man. After a few minutes of careful inspection, he tilted his head slightly and turned to his companion.
"He will do." With that, he continued to walk down the line watching the men he passed. The blonde man spoke to the chosen gladiator for a moment before he returned to the redhead's side. The other man turned and left the line heading for a nearby tunnel. Ken snapped to attention when he felt the eyes of the first man land on him.
'He's the one from the arena.' Ran thought as he gazed at the brown haired youth before him. With a quick once over, he was ready to pass him over when something caught his eye, 'There's something about him alright. But what is it? I need to find out.'
"He'll do as well." Ran turned to look for his next warrior.
'That boy…he's the one the boy described. But didn't he say this one was injured? Why is he here?'
"He can't fight. He's been given time off to heal from the last games." Youji explained to the aristocrat. Ran leveled a gaze at him that made Youji wish he was able to hit him. He hated when Ran acted superior to him.
"He's in the line up and I have the right to choose whoever I please."
"He doesn't know any better. This is his first time being involved something like this. If someone had told him, he wouldn't be here." Youji argued, trying to make his friend understand.
"But the point is, he's here. I chose him. He will fight. These two will do as well."
Youji ground his teeth together in irritation. He snapped his head around to look at Ken. The anger disappeared from his eyes for a moment as he looked at the boy.
"I'm sorry," he said, "You'll have to fight."
The sound of soft footsteps echoed in the empty room. Omi couldn't hear anything from outside so that meant all the work was done and the battle would be ready soon. He would have to go out there to tend to the gladiators. But he couldn't force himself to leave. Every time he reached the door, his legs would shake and force him to sit down.
"Why can't I get a hold of myself?" he asked the darkness, "Why should I be so worked up over what Ken did? He didn't do anything. Didn't hurt me. So why can't I get over it?!"
/That's why you can't. Because he didn't hurt you./ A voice whispered in the back of his mind
"I don't understand….why would that mean anything?"
/You're scared. You're scared because he hasn't acted like the others./
"Wouldn't that make me more ready to accept him? I don't understand." he argued with his mind. Nothing was making sense anymore.
/But you do understand. You just aren't willing to accept it./
"Accept what?!" he yelled, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. The voice chuckled, a soft sound that he barely heard.
/You'll see…soon enough./
"But, I don't understand." Omi cried into his arms, more confused than ever, 'Why would I be afraid of him if he hasn't hurt me?'
/Whoever said it was fear?/
The arena had a different feel to it. Maybe it was because there was no practicing going on, or maybe it was because he was looking at it in a different perspective. But he knew most of it was because he was now going to be truly fighting in it. The gladiators that usually filled the field were now clustered around the wall surrounding the arena. Ken noticed that slaves were standing in various places in the stands and around the field.
'Probably to get the dead bodies off the field.' he thought bitterly as he watched the aristocratic red head glide onto the balcony area of the stands. Beside him was a young girl with coal colored hair and wide brown eye. Ken watched as the redhead just stood and looked out over the crowd as though he were judging them. With a soft snort, Ken turned his eyes away. A moment later, the few four gladiators in the arena were guided behind a gate and into an empty area.
The other three began to prepare for the upcoming battle. Armor slid over shoulders and weapons were given one final inspection. Ken's actions were only half-hearted. Once they finished, they lined up each waiting his turn to enter the field. A large, burly man walked by and pointed to the two men on either side of Ken.
"You, follow me." he ordered them and left without a second look. The other man left behind chuckled grimly.
"Guess that means I fight you." he glanced at Ken before walking toward the gate, "What a pity."
"What do you mean by that?" Ken joined the other man, his gaze sweeping through the small crowd.
"I was hoping for a real fight."
Anger and embarrassment flooded through Ken. Was he really that bad? Before he could give it another thought, his attention was distracted by a golden head running up the steps of the arena. His breath caught in his throat.
"Omi…" he breathed.
But when he was able to get a better view of the boy, he saw that it wasn't the Omi. The young warrior sighed and rested his head on the metal bars. He had felt really bad about what happened earlier although he had no idea what he did. But he still wanted to apologize to Omi. The rough sound of the gladiator's yells broke his train of thought. Outside, the two men that had been with him had begun their dance.
Metal bounced off metal as the sun glinted off their weapons. If Ken hadn't known better, he could have believed this was just another practice. But as the larger of the two men's sword descended on the other drawing blood, Ken knew they were truly fighting to the death. He was fascinated yet sickened by the spectacle. Who could ever like watching this? Brown eyes turned to the arena's balcony where the red head sat watching the fight as if it were a daily occurrence. Beside him sat the girl from earlier and the other man that had accompanied him on the field. Ken smirked.
'Aristocrats. Figures.' he thought with disdain. He returned his attention to the field just as the smaller of the two warriors ran his blade through the other.
Ken winced at the strangled cry he heard from the stricken man. He turned away in disgust as the other man gave on last twist of his sword before pulling it out. The soft sound of clapping floated over across the arena.
'We're nothing but entertainment for them.'
"You're gladiators fight very well." Ran commented as he watched the slaves run onto the field to clear it for the next fight.
"They've been trained to give everything in a fight. If they don't, it may be their last." Youji replied, watching the scene sullenly, "Aya should not be watching this. It doesn't fit her cheerful personality."
Aya smiled slightly, keeping her eyes trained on the floor in front of her. She had stayed in that position for the whole fight, only lifting her eyes when she heard her brother's clapping and the cries of the watching gladiators.
"Aya may do as she wishes. If she does not want to watch this, she may find something else to do." Ran turned soft violet eyes to the girl at his side. He had never meant for her to watch the fight or be anywhere were she could see it. He had made a mistake and deeply regretted it. A smile formed on the girl's lips, a silent thank you as she made her way off the balcony.
"Let me show you to a room where you can rest, Aya. I can have one of my slaves bring you something if you like." Youji offered.
"I would like that."
Ran watched the scene from the corner of his eye. Once Youji returned, his gaze was once more fixed on the arena before him.
"I wish you wouldn't talk with my sister like that."
"I was doing nothing but being hospitable." Youji retorted.
"I know how you feel, Youji. But you must remember who you are. You will never be able to have her." Ran reminded him, the slightest hint of sadness in his voice, "Even if she feels the same."
Youji didn't hear the last part as the gates were opened once again and the last two warriors stepped out. Youji would have sworn that his companion perked up a little as a chocolate head came into view. Green eyes closed for a moment as he prayed for the boy's safety. He shouldn't have let him fight.
'I hope I'm not late. I can't believe I fell apart like that. I'm needed right now. Oh please, don't let me be late!!'
Omi rushed through the hallways and across the open grounds until he reached the arena. He got there just in time to see the other slaves dragging the lifeless body off the field. Not wasting any more time the blonde slave rushed to the side, looking for the other warrior. Once he found him, Omi immediately started treating his wounds. He heard the man grunt in exasperation. Just as he was finishing, Omi heard the sound of the gate creaking open and the cheering of the watching gladiators.
Making sure the treated man received his last instructions, Omi turned to wait for the next injured warrior. His heart stopped for a second as he realized Ken was in the arena. Anger quickly replaced his surprise.
'That idiot! Didn't I tell him to take it easy with his stitches still in? What's he doing out there?!'
He was just about to yell to the young man when he noticed both of the warriors were looking straight forward. Following their gaze, Omi saw the redhead he had run into earlier sitting on the balcony with his master. He watched as the redhead raised his hand and simultaneously heard the clinking of metal against metal. Omi could only watch in suspense as the two men faced each other beginning their fight.
"Oh gods…" he whispered as the first strike was dealt.
Ken watched the man in front of him intently. Tried to guess the other's moves by his body language and at the same time try to make his own. He held his sword loosely in one hand while keeping his shield raised with the other. Ken felt he was at a slight disadvantage since the other gladiator had a trident and net as his weapons. The trident could reach further than his sword so he would have to make it a close range battle.
But the other man kept pressing his advantage, keeping a far amount of distance between himself and Ken. The sun beat down brightly making it hard for Ken to see through the sweat dripping down his face. Suddenly, his opponent rushed him, trident raised while he swung the net. Ken dodged the attempt to catch him and rolled to the side. But the other warrior was quick and was already facing Ken. He tried to stab Ken with the trident, forcing Ken to keep rolling. Once he was a fair distance away, Ken leaped to his feet and rushed the other man.
Before the net could be used, Ken grabbed the man's arm effectively disarming him. He felt something sharp pierce his side and looked down to see that his opponent had managed to stab him with one of the trident's prongs. As he pulled the sharp metal out of him, Ken hissed in pain. There were only a few inches between his face and the other man's. He heard a deep, soft laugh emit from the other's throat and turned hardened brown eyes on him.
"I'll kill you. You'll never get out of here. I won't let myself die to someone like you."
To emphasize his point, the warrior made a motion to stab Ken again. Only this time Ken managed to deflect the prongs and even force the weapon back.
'I'm not gonna die now.' Ken thought as he fought to keep those sharp points away, 'Not here, not now…and not doing this.'
Ken snarled as he used what strength he had to shove the man away. He took the opportunity of having his opponent backstep to trip him. The man landed with a thud on the ground only to find a sword hovering above his throat. Waiting for the final blow, the man growled in hatred. Instead of killing the man, Ken lowered his sword and walked away.
"Stop." a voice commanded the gladiator. Ken turned to face the aristocrat he had seen before, "Kill him."
"I will not."
The words were soft, yet Ran was able to hear the defiance and disgust in the young man's voice. Violet eyes narrowed at the outright disobedience. Who did the gladiator think he was to refuse a direct order? From his side, Ran heard Youji chuckle softly. He spared a glance at his friend, one eyebrow lifting upward in a questioning manner. One slim hand brushed the look aside as he turned to grab an empty cup and fill it.
"Not use to being disobeyed, are you? I told you there was something about him. He's been here for a good while and still has as strong a will as when he came here."
"He's disobeying my orders. Have you not taught them anything?"
"I have," the trainer held his friend's gaze before continuing, "but in the end, it's always the fighter's choice on whether to follow them or not. He's chosen not to."
"Hnnnn." Ran thought it over for a moment before he once more turned to the arena, "Kill him."
"I said I…"
"Who said I meant you?" Ran interrupted, a small smile on his face.
Omi stared as the young warrior refused his orders. He was refusing to kill the man he defeated. The slave had never seen such a thing before, and he had been around the games for a few years. Thoughts whirled in his head, none staying still long enough for him to catch.
"Ken…"
Whether the gladiator heard him or not, Ken swiftly turned his gaze in Omi's direction. Upon seeing the boy, Ken smiled brightly. It hardly seemed like he had just finished fighting for his life. Omi felt an answering smile on his lips. Ken began to walk over to him when Omi heard the voice of the aristocrat once again.
"Kill him." Ken stopped mid-stride and turned to face the balcony.
"I said I…" he began, hand tightening on the sword. Omi looked back and forth between the redhead and the brunette. Out of the corner of his eye, Omi saw something move. Taking his attention away from the others, he saw the fallen gladiator getting up and holding his weapon tightly.
"Who said I meant you?"
At that moment, the man charged at Ken who was still looking at the balcony. Omi felt fear clutch him as Ken didn't notice the man ready to kill him. Not knowing what to do, Omi did the first thing he thought of.
"Ken!! Behind you!"
Omi's warning reached him just in time. Ken ducked and spun around to face his attacker. In one swift movement, he ran his blade through the charging man. The arena was deathly silent as Ken stood up and shoved the dieing man away from him. He kept his head bowed while the other gladiator coughed up blood, his wound letting more spill out onto the ground. Omi held his breath as he watched. As the recent events took their toll, Ken leaned on his sword, his free hand clutching his side. Snapping out of his daze, Omi rushed into the arena, his medical training taking over.
"Still think he's nothing?" Youji asked, watching the scene below. A small blonde boy ran out into the arena immediately checking on the injured warrior. He watched as the two exchanged a few words. The blonde suddenly reached up and smacked the taller boy across his head.
"Ow! What was that for?!" the wind carried the voices from below making it easy to hear what they were saying.
"You idiot! I told you not to mess around! Are you ever going to listen to me?!" the irritated boy yelled.
"I don't know…depends on what you're saying…OW!! Dammit! That hurts!"
Ran sat back in his chair, his face strangely neutral. He was also watching the exchange between the two boys below. The harsh sound of the laughter reached his ears.
'Gladiators.' he thought with disdain. Youji left quickly, telling him something briefly before leaving. Ran didn't hear though, 'There is something about him. I can see it, sense it. But what is it? He fights decently but doesn't show any particularly amazing ability. And he would never have known of the other man if it hadn't been for that boy.'
"Omi? Where are you going? Hey! Wait! I need to talk to you……would you wait for a mom…OW!! Dammit! Quit doing that!" Ran's eyes narrowed as he watched the two quarrel.
"I've got work to do. Just go rest like I told you to!"
'Following a slave's orders.'
/But he's not an ordinary slave./
'No, he's medical one. But that doesn't mean he has to follow the boy around. He's acting like a love struck girl.'
/Maybe he is…/
A soft snort.
/My…are we jealous?/
'Not in the least. I just find it revolting to be so attached to someone so low.'
/But he's not in a much higher standing. You've never been so concerned about the lower people before…why him?/
'There's something…different about him.'
/So you admit Youji was right./
'Not to his face. But he does have a point. I'm intrigued by him; he's been the only gladiator I've known to refuse to kill.'
/Is that the only reason you're intrigued by him?/
Ran didn't answer.