Chương 25: Interrogations and Turtle Traps

Six hundred students filled the cafeteria with noise, yet the corner table remained deserted save for Kurisu and Kenji. As Kurisu ate, he watched Kenji hunch over his tray and shred a napkin, the boy's eyes darting toward the doors, presumably searching for the men in suits.

"You're on a list now, you know that, right?" Kenji hissed, keeping his voice low.

"And I'm probably on it too, just from association! They don't just write 'Kung Fu' in a notebook and walk away; they watch everything, flags that ping every time we buy fertilizer or cross a state line."

"They are merely scribes," Kurisu said.

"Those who fight only on paper break easily before a blade."

"Great philosophy," Kenji snapped, biting a chunk off of his crust.

"But paper is actually pretty dangerous here because paper gets your bank account frozen, and it gets you put in a black site in Nevada while they tell your family you moved to Belize." Considering this, Kurisu recognized the threat of bureaucracy as a slow siege meant to starve the enemy rather than crush them, a strategy he chafed at, feeling that such cowardly tactics were beneath a warrior, a frequent point of contention he had had with his grandfather, drawing a sigh from Kurisu.

"Eat," Kurisu commanded.

"Then... training." Kenji groaned.

"I ate enough, and I lost my appetite when Agent Smith got involved, not to mention I really don't feel like excavating another chunk of the lawn."

"Practice," Kurisu insisted, standing up and slinging his backpack over one shoulder; he waited for Kenji to get up and shove a slice of pizza into his mouth before leading the way out. The afternoon heat baked the bricks of the old schoolhouse as they found their spot in the shade of the oak. Kurisu dropped his bag and sat, watching Kenji drop his own bag to lean against the brick.

"Yesterday, you drew upon your and the land's Chi." Kurisu pointed a finger toward Kenji's navel.

"However, you must utilize your Tanden. Your Ki." He lowered his hand.

"Ki is what allows our bodies to move, and the fuel we use to manipulate nature. Kaki, Suiki, Fūki, Doki." Kenji crossed his arms.

"It gets stuck, man. Every time I use my Tanden, the pressure builds up and it physically hurts."

"As I told you yesterday," Kurisu replied, shifting into his native tongue for clarity.

"You must keep it in motion. You have to squeeze the Ki through your Keiraku, much like swallowing, but through the entirety of your body." Observing through his Zanshin, Kurisu watched the erratic pulse of energy as the boy relaxed his hold, releasing the dam, feeling the immediate spike in pressure when Ki flooded out of his Tanden, rising to lodge against his diaphragm.

"It's stuck," Kenji grunted, rubbing his sternum.

"It's bunching up right under my ribs like I swallowed a medicine ball." Kurisu pointed to Kenji's navel.

"Keep it moving. The rotation helps to create the flow." Kenji frowned.

"Like... centrifugal force? Keep it moving so it doesn't jam?"

"Just so." Kurisu nodded.

"You must squeeze and spin. Whether calling upon your Ki or not, you must always keep your Tanden flexing." Closing his eyes again, Kenji pushed the stuck energy, forcing it to rotate while his face tightened in concentration. Through his Zanshin, Kurisu felt the boy churning the Ki until it slowly moved, picking up speed to swirl in a circle within his Tanden, the pressure easing against his ribs as the energy squeezed through his Keiraku, pushing them open after what must have been years of suppression.

"Good," Kurisu whispered.

"Now. Thread. Pull." Reaching into the churning ball of energy, Kenji dragged a line from his Tanden up his spine, guiding it through the shoulder and down the arm, creating a continuous stream to the center of his palm. Sweat beading on his forehead, Kenji squeezed his eyes shut, his face scrunching up as he flexed his core. Monitoring the flow, Kurisu saw the boy increasing the intensity, forcing the walls of his Tanden to shudder under the strain.

"No," Kurisu interrupted.

"Stop." With a large exhale, Kenji opened his eyes, dropping his arm to his side.

"I'm trying, man. It's not lighting."

"Force no shape," Kurisu said.

"Make no flame."

"Then how?"

"Raise the temperature," Kurisu clarified.

"Just... heat." With a shrug, Kenji focused on the empty space about an inch above his palm, pushing the Ki into that space to increase the temperature.

"More," Kurisu coaxed.

"Slow." Pouring a little more into the rotation, Kenji squeezed the Ki up through his Keiraku, the air shimmering above his hand like hot asphalt.

"Good," Kurisu murmured.

"More." Pushing the intensity higher, Kenji heated the invisible point above his hand until a tiny, singular flame popped into existence, appearing as a simple, teardrop-shaped tongue of fire barely visible in the shade.

"Always spin, or your energy will grow stagnant again and cause discomfort, just as it did between yesterday and today," Kurisu reminded him, watching the boy keep the pool churning to feed the tiny flame with a steady trickle of Ki.

"It is how I know you are not practicing on your own."

"Whatever, I'm a damn fire bender!" Kenji said, his voice spiking with excitement as he watched the flame.

"I know not what that is, but the title seems accurate enough," Kurisu said, parsing the translation before continuing in English.

"Ki fuels. You shape. Kaki, Suiki, Fūki, Doki."

"But if I don't shape?" Kenji asked.

"If I just... push?" Drawing upon his Ki, Kurisu materialized a sphere of condensed yellow energy above his palm, letting it hum before shifting the color, transitioning into red then bleeding into an emerald green before finally settling into blue. Letting out a bark of laughter, Kenji grinned, eyeing the blue orb.

"So, are you going to shoot a Kamehameha with that?" Kurisu tilted his head, the blue light reflecting in his eyes as he looked at Kenji, drawing his eyebrows together.

"Ka-me... ha-me... ha?" Kurisu repeated the sounds slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion as he closed his hand, shrinking the orb to an ember before snuffing it. As a tremor seized his shoulders, Kurisu clamped his jaw shut, turning his face away. He pressed the back of his fist against his mouth, muffling a snort. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"The wave of a tricked turtle?" Kurisu choked out in his native tongue, fighting another tremor.

"Why would one invoke the regrets of a trapped reptile on the battlefield?" Giving up, Kurisu bowed his head, his shoulders heaving with his laughter.

"Dude, seriously?" Kenji laughed along with him.

"It's an anime blast. Why the hell are you dissecting a cartoon turtle right now? Come on, share with the class." As the laughter faded, Kenji's smile vanished. He tilted his head, eyeing Kurisu.

"Wait, you really don't know what a Kamehameha is?" He pointed a finger at Kurisu.

"What rock have you been living under?"

"Terra."

"Terra? What's a Terra?"

"Planet."

"Wait, what?" Freezing in place, Kenji did a double-take, looking from Kurisu's serious face to the sky and back again.

"Are you telling me you're an alien?" The bell rang, cutting through the courtyard as Kurisu grabbed his backpack and walked toward the building. Hauling himself up, Kenji chased after him, pointing a finger at his back.

"This discussion isn't over. We are definitely coming back to the alien thing." He turned toward the building, shaking his head.

"If I fall asleep in math, poke me. Don't hit me."

"No hit," Kurisu agreed with a slow tilt of his head.

"Today." Ms. Addison squeaked her marker across the whiteboard, circling the discriminant in the quadratic formula.

"Remember," she said, tapping the board.

"If the value inside the square root is negative, you're dealing with imaginary numbers." Nudging Kurisu's elbow, Kenji slid his phone across the desk. Despite the nudge, Kurisu copied the equation from the board, finishing the problem and underlining the root to start the next one before Ms. Addison had even finished writing it.

A frustrated grunt escaping his lips, Kenji shoved the phone harder against Kurisu's forearm, drawing an exhale as Kurisu glanced down at the screen where the translation app sat open in text-only mode. [Alien? You said Planet. Like... outer space?] [Focus. Learn.] Kurisu typed, before Kenji snatched the device back with a huff. Kenji typed again, thumbs flying. [Dude. You dropped a bomb. You can't just say 'Terra is a planet' and then go back to Algebra. Do you have a spaceship?] Sliding the device back across the desk, Kenji nudged the phone into Kurisu's arm again with a pointed glare, prompting the boy to pick it up with a sigh.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Ms. Addison asked, standing over their desk, arms crossed, the classroom silent. While Kenji froze in his seat, Kurisu stood up, holding the phone out to display the calculator app he had swiped to.

"I sought his assistance." Pointing to the equation on his paper, Kurisu tapped his notebook.

"This formula is complex." Ms. Addison looked at the phone, then at Kurisu's notebook where the work was perfectly transcribed.

"Right," she said, her expression softening.

"Use the calculator, Mr. Nodaichi, but keep the phones flat on the desk." With a nod, Kurisu reclaimed his seat.

"Laps!" Whalen barked before blowing his whistle.

"I want blood moving! Go!" Following the order, the class jogged forward, Brad and the football players taking the lead while pounding the hardwood with rhythmic thuds. Jogging up beside Kurisu on the outer lane, Kenji kept his head down. Kurisu noted the distinct difference in their movement, the other students bobbing up and down while he glided, his head remaining level and his arms loose at his sides as his feet struck the floor without a sound.

"So," Kenji whispered.

"We need to talk about the 'Terra' thing." Kurisu kept his eyes forward.

"Run. Breath. Rhythm."

"Screw running!" Kenji hissed.

"You're from another planet. That explains the strength. The way you talk like a robot samurai." Kurisu turned his head slightly.

"I am no machine." The translator app clipped to his waistband chirped the English out. Approaching a girl who was struggling to maintain her pace a full lap behind, Kurisu and Kenji split around her, passing her on both sides without breaking stride.

"Turn that thing down," Kenji muttered.

"Look, does the government know?"

"Government... knows nothing," Kurisu replied.

"So it really was just the goblin you knocked out," Kenji said, confirming his suspicion.

"I mean, I got attacked by one at my house! Is that why you're here? You're on some mission to hunt them?" Ignoring the query, Kurisu maintained his pace.

"Come on. You can't shut me out," Kenji pressed. Passing the bleachers again, Kurisu noted the gymnasium falling silent, the thudding of the football players ceasing as the team collapsed onto the benches, a detail apparently missed by Kenji as the boy just kept asking questions, his legs pumping automatically to match Kurisu's pace while circling the court for the thirtieth time.

"Ware do not shut out," Kurisu said.

"Protect."

"I don't need protection," Kenji said.

"I need answers."

"Tetsuya!" At the shout, Kenji flinched, stumbling over his feet as he looked around the court. Coach Whalen stood at center court, staring at him. The rest of the class was scattered on the sidelines wiping sweat and drinking water; even the football players were seated, chests heaving. Glancing between Kurisu's steady breathing and his own heaving chest, Kenji flushed.

"Uh. Yeah, Coach?"

"You trying out for cross country?" Whalen asked, checking his stopwatch with a frown.

"You two just beat the varsity record pace by thirty seconds." Kenji slumped his shoulders, forcing a wheeze.

"Just... zoning out, Coach. Trying to keep up with him." Whalen grunted.

"Right. Hit the showers." As the Coach walked away, Kurisu leaned in.

"Amateur."

"Oh shut up!" Kenji waited by the bike racks after the final bell had rung. Kurisu emerged wearing his black duster that he'd left in his locker, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"You're coming over," Kenji stated.

"I texted Mr. Miller, Mom's making curry." Kurisu stopped.

"Curry?"

"Yea, curry: potatoes, carrots, beef, you know." Kurisu considered for a moment; he'd never had this 'curry' before, but the mixture of vegetables with protein seemed reasonable.

"Acceptable. Go."

"Good." Kenji motioned to the idling yellow buses.

"Because if I have to go another hour wondering if you're going to phone home, I'm going to lose it." They boarded the bus, moving to the back. Kenji took the window; Kurisu took the aisle. The bus jostled them as it lurched into traffic.

"So," Kenji asked, his voice kept low enough to be drowned out by the chatter of the other kids.

"Terra. You said it's a planet. But... what is it like?" Looking past Kenji, out the window at the distant peaks of the Rockies, Kurisu watched the horizon.

"Green," he said softly in his native tongue. Gesturing to the mountains, he added, "Lush forests and high mountains."

"Like here?" Kenji asked. Kurisu shook his head.

"More green... More wild," Kurisu said, searching for the word.

"Beasts... Dangerous." He glanced at Kenji.

"It is a splendid place."

"So how did you get here?" Kenji asked.

"Do you have a ship?" Reaching up to brush the thin band of purple and onyx scales tight against his throat, Kurisu traced the ridges while staring at the vinyl seat back in front of him.

"Ryū threw me."

"A dragon threw you?" Kenji repeated, his eyes wide with mock disbelief.

"Those aren't real... are they?" Chuckling at the linguistic tangle, Kurisu shook his head.

"Not a dragon. Ryū is Terran, like me. He is my retainer."

"Oh, so like Street Fighter," Kenji muttered. Circling a finger in the air, Kurisu amended the thought.

"He cast me into the hole. Did to save Ware."

"So... where is this guy? He just dumps you into a hole to save you and doesn't check in?" Kenji asked.

"After save Ware, Ryū... unknown. Bahamut here," Kurisu said with a nod, tapping his choker.

"Bahamut?" Kenji repeated, his face twisting in confusion.

"The ultimate summon from Final Fantasy? Like the mega-flare dragon? Is this one a dragon?" he asked mockingly. Smirking slightly, Kurisu gripped the choker, his thumb pressing against the black surface.

"A dragon, yes." He looked at Kenji, his own brow furrowing in confusion this time.

"Mega-flare... unknown. Bahamut is my familiar."

"Familiar?" Kenji whispered, his eyes widening.

"Wait. You have a magic pet? A dragon... as a magic pet?" Kurisu looked at him sharply.

"Not pet. Partner. Soul."

"Okay," Kenji said, raising his hands in surrender.

"So your attendant and your... soul-partner... threw you in a hole to save you. Save you from what?" Kurisu dropped his gaze, staring at his hands resting on his knees.

"Everything."