|
|
Post by KANE on Apr 10, 2013 7:47:13 GMT -5
Era turns the key in the ignition of his motorcycle after he parks next to the police station, and waits until the bike fully quiets before he returns the key to his pocket. The teacher flips up the blackened visor portion his helmet up above his eyes to look at the sign of the building. For a moment, he contemplates leaving. However, on some deeper level he’s aware that if he had intentions of leaving Ken in jail, he wouldn’t have even driven here. With a sigh, Era leans slightly to the right place his foot on the curb. He winces as he carefully lifts his other leg high enough to bring it over the motorcycle before he sighs and enters the station, helmet pulled off.
He glances around the room once before he moves toward the desk and speaks with the associate there. He’s never been in a police station before, and seeing as Ken is in the small holding cell with only two others, visible to whatever public may enter the building, he assumes that’s the cell for those who are lucky enough to have their asses saved by somebody willing to bail them out.
Era gives no indication he’s even seen his younger brother before he finishes the papers passed from the man behind the desk, and hands them back. Era places the helmet on the counter and watches as the man releases Ken before he vanishes in the back with the papers, and Era assumes he needs to copy them. He stares at Ken from a distance, though, wondering if he’d get even some form of an explanation.
He doubts it, though.
He hated the fact that he had to rely on his brother to get him out of there, but he didn't want his parents to know. And, well, as much as he wanted to call Caspian, Ken didn't memorize his phone number like he had memorized Era's: the excitement from a few days ago had disappeared and his whole body hurt. Those bastards at the bar were clearly professionals, they knew where to hit and how to hit and, upon receiving one of the cell's other inhabitants glare, Ken found it fitting to glare back. Goddamn Japan and their goddamn cells.
He didn't look at his brother, however, not keen on doing such because he was aware he was going to have to put up with him. What a hassle. Being around Era was like cancer to the soul, it kept eating away at his sanity little by little. So, without further ado, Ken merely got his belongings, checking if everything was alright, then stood there, hands in his pockets, and he sighed. He didn't have to talk, last time that approach worked. His issues with his anger management were easy to solve as long as he didn't get mad. Talking made him angry.
The police officer that released him gave him a pat on the shoulder and the pain radiating from the bruise he had there made Ken glare at the man, giving him a well deserved curse in English. So much for not getting mad, apparently.
Era sighs when he hears the curse from his brother’s mouth and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brat. he thinks, but rolls his eyes to shove the thought off. He takes his helmet off the counter and holds it by the portion that wraps around his jaw as he slowly limps toward his brother, almost deciding to turn around and simply let his brother exit. However, the older Shinobu stands between his brother and where the man appears after a moment.
He takes the paperwork and folds it up with one hand before he slips it into the pocket of his jacket against his chest. ”C’mon.” he murmurs to Ken in English, and dares to raise a hand to his collar and lightly – though firmly – take the back of his shirt to practically push (or drag if he's difficult) him toward the door, as well as hopefully out it. ”Let’s just get out of here.”
He expected nothing less from Era: wasn't he always the one that got him out of all kinds of trouble as a kid? Still, he couldn't bring himself to say a word, despite the angry huff that left his lips. What the hell, what the hell, did he still think of him as a small kid? He was not a kid anymore, Era didn't catch Ken pulling some girl's pigtails again and he wasn't going to give him an earful as he escorted him to their mother to tell her about what Ken did and what Ken said. It was just the two of them now, two grown men who lost their way to each other, somehow.
"How 'bout you get the fuck off my back." It was a bit sad, to be honest, how the only words that left his mouth were so full of bitterness, but he didn't make any move to get out of Era's grasp. He didn't need to do so: Era would let him go eventually. He always let go of him. In a way, Ken wished the two of them would have never met again: maybe that way they would have never gotten into this kind of messy situation because of something so incredibly stupid.
Era sighs silently and rolls his eyes at Ken’s abrasive response, before he snaps back under his breath, ”Would you rather I keep it there or watch you get your ass landed back in that cell?” he pushes his brother through the automatic doors to the station before taking a sharp right to the alley between the police station and the building next to it.
He gives Ken another push, this time into the alley and leans to the right against the side of the station. He doesn’t exactly want to be standing here at the moment, but he’ll do what he feels is necessary as an older brother…not that Ken sees him as such anymore. ”Mind telling me how you even wound up in there in the first place?” his voice is flat, ”Along with anything else?”
Ken is undoubtedly pissed, and given what Era knows of his brother, he'll stay like that until he lets it out somehow. Better me than somebody else in a bar to get an earful, he reasons.
The prospect of returning to that cell didn't appeal to him, so the young man kept his mouth shut, at least for the moment. It wouldn't be long and he'd be out and away from Era once again: maybe he could shake him off and run away, but that would have been too cowardly, even for Ken. Not for Erasmus, though, not from Ken's point of view, and he could even imagine it if he tried hard enough.
He didn't explain himself, however, as he stumbled backwards a little, perhaps the tiniest be surprised that his brother was taking a definitely unexpected turn. No, he should have just let him go and go home and back to his goddamn Oxycontin. Still, Ken hissed slightly when he nearly stumbled over a thrash bag: did they hit his leg too? Great, two cripples in the family, daddy was going to be damn proud about it.
"I've got nothing to say to you." The reply he gave eventually was venomous, though he didn't expect himself to be so hard to get along with: after so many hours spent in that cell, he was still as mad as hell, and he wasn't going to take it anymore. Not this time.
|
|
|
|
Post by KANE on Apr 10, 2013 11:02:14 GMT -5
Era sighs again when the harsh reply shoots at him from Ken’s lips like a bullet from a gun. However, he steels himself against whatever backlash may appear from his brother’s mouth for his next words. ”Right. Just like you didn’t disown me last time we spoke.” His expression doesn’t change in the slightest, but his words are laced with sarcasm. ”surely you jest if you expect me to believe that load of crap.” Waving the red cape in front of the bull? Certainly.
Will it be worth it in the end, though?
Era can only hope. ”I doubt you’ve changed since you were a child. You’re pissy and temperamental and always had something to say, so there’s no doubt you do now. You need to do something to get your frustration out, just like back then.”
There was a small moment of respiro between the two of them, a moment of utter silence in which Ken could feel his heart beat clearly, resonating throughout his body, his mind and perhaps his soul too, even though he wasn't sure he had one. Get out his frustration? On him? Out of all the people... If he could have laughed, he would have done so without any hint of remorse, but Ken's face bore the most serious of expressions: he was tired, he was hungry, he was dirty and he needed to get as far away from Era as possible, lest he wanted to lose control of himself.
"Okay, are you done now? I gotta get home." Good. He had things under control. Era couldn't possibly get to him with such silly insults. "You picking a fight or something? Go to a bar. They're amazing." Oh, alright, so Era did actually get to him with those silly insults. Still, Ken stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking for some change to get himself a coffee at the very least.
”No I’m not.” Era stands straighter, and extends his left arm to place his palm flat on the brick of the building next to them, effectively closing Ken’s only way out. ”Nor am I interested in going to a bar at the time.” The fingers of his right hand tighten over the jaw guard of the motorcycle helmet he holds it in.
”Getting away is what you’d like to do, I bet.” He begins prodding at Ken with a sharpened stick again, ”Funny considering you preached at me about running away for six years yet here for the second time you’re running away like a coward rather than facing me to talk.” He doesn’t want to fathom the potential repercussions of his words now but he keeps plowing forward, in hopes of releasing his brother from whatever anger is pent up inside him – most of it likely directed at Era himself.
”You have no right to talk to me about being a coward or not when you yourself are no better. And in case you didn’t notice, you can’t go running home to mum either considering she’s halfway around the world.”
He was looking for a goddamn fight, that's what he was doing at that moment, and Ken couldn't stand looking at him for another second: if he didn't control himself, he could end up hurting Era and that was the last thing he wanted to do. ...well, maybe not the last thing, but somewhere there. In top ten things he wanted to do most, actually. ...hell, he wanted to punch those words out of his mouth.
The mention of their mother got him going though and he felt his blood getting to his head, making him clench his fists tightly, until his knuckled turned white from the effort he was making not to go all out on his brother. His own brother, the same blood, yet so different in so many ways. "Oh, so now you suddenly know everything about me, huh. How about you leave me alone? I don't need you." Of course he needed Era, but Ken wasn't stupid enough to let his brother know that. Not to mention that it seemed to him like Era didn't need him anymore anyway.
"I have absolutely no need for you to lecture me." And from the way he slowly raised his voice, emphasizing each word, it should have been clear he was slowly losing his temper.
”I know enough about you to know when shit happens,” Era retorts. The older Shinobu doesn’t claim to know everything about his brother – he’s not that arrogant. Ken doesn’t know everything about him, either. That’s the way things are supposed to be. However, having a giant rift between them isn’t the way things are supposed to be. Era has slowly acknowledged the fact that he probably helped dig the rift between them as Ken had, but now the only thing left to do is fill it or somehow cross it.
”Apparently you do need me to lecture you.” he says evenly, noticing the physical changes in his brother’s position, despite how subtle they are. Good. Some kind of reaction. If anything, the raised voice and accented words are proof enough, even without the clenched fist. ”Otherwise you’re just about as aware of what you should do or say sometimes as a five year old!”
Era goes so far as to scoff at Ken’s words, too. ”And you don’t need me? Ha. Good joke. Without me you’d still be stuck in that jail cell freezing your ass off with people you don’t even know. Not like they’d be good company, either, considering the state of your Japanese.”
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by KANE on Apr 10, 2013 11:04:28 GMT -5
Wha- now that was something Ken had not expected, not in a million years. That kind of attitude that pissed him off majorly simply because he gave off the feeling that he was better than him, that he was superior in every aspect and that Ken couldn't do anything about it, no matter what. If he could just reach out and grab him by the collar and shove him into the pile of thrash behind him, then it would have all been much, much better. But he wasn't going to do it: no, he was better than that.
Five year old? "Why, you little..." He could've swore he felt a vein pop in his head somewhere and he even took a step forward, towards Era, muttering a curse or two through gritted teeth. "How dare you! I'm a student in Oxford, with a goddamn scholarship, a spot on the football team and on my merry way to becoming a doctor so I could help you, and you out of all people, a mere teacher in some god forgotten city, lecture me? You've got some nerve!" He still got a hold of himself, just barely, but the slight waver in his voice, the shaking of his fists, it was all a sign he was slowly breaking.
"Anything is better than you! I would've called Caspian if I knew his number, but it's your number I memorized, you-" He bit his lips at that point, so utterly enraged that his face turned red. Well, this was going great. Just great.
Finally. Era doesn’t move when his brother approaches him, nor does he raise any form of guard. If hitting him will help release the anger from where it’s boiled inside his brother, he’ll take it. His jaw tenses when Ken mentions the promise he made all those years ago to him, but he doesn’t speak until Ken can’t speak any more. ”Careful, don’t give yourself an aneurysm.” Era says, his tone a shade more serious than it has been for the past few minutes, before it returns to the sharp one that holds only a hint of mocking (for the sake of stabbing his brother verbally) in it.
”Tokyo. Forgotten city. Right. Okay.” Era’s eyes narrow. ”Do a check-up on your present day.” The older Shinobu swallows before he continues, ”Oxford, scholarship, med school. Flashy. Not much behind those other than a pit of anger, though, is there? Great lot o’ good that’ll do ya when you’re graduated.” He tries to delve deeper into his brother’s rage, and in the process, forcing himself to be this intentionally mean-spirited to his younger brother is upsetting him, evident by the dominance of his English accent appearing.
But as far as Ken knows, it’s just from the fact he’s beginning to talk quickly. ”And for what reason, I have to wonder, are you so pissy. You would have called Caspian? Cute. You hate him almost as much as you hate me.” Right now, at least…possibly other times too, as of late, given their last fight. ”You ridicule my nerve but what of it do you have in comparison?”
He promised himself he wouldn't let his brother get to him anymore, that his words won't hurt him anymore, that'd he'd upgrade himself and manage to detach himself, but in the end it only made Era's words hurt more. An aneurysm? Really? Goddamn smart ass, he just knew what made him tick, it was really easy to get to him, wasn't it? He took his time, however, and waited to see what else could his mouth let go of.
What did he have in comparison? This little prick was forgetting that Ken gave up on all his dreams so he could help him and his stupid leg. "You fucking cripple, I'll make you swallow those words of yours." It took him exactly one second to get a hold of his brother's shirt with both his hands and, using all the force he could muster in his weakened state, he shoved him into the opposite wall of the alley. "What do you think you know about nerve? Nerve is standing up to dad and taking one hell of a punch when he says we don't have to look for you anymore. Nerve is comforting mom when she's crying because her favorite son left. Nerve-" He slammed Era against the wall once more, making sure to give his liver a well placed, quick jab, like his classmate in Oxford taught him, then brought his face close to his: he enjoyed it, finally taking it all out on this pathetic excuse of a brother. "Nerve, you moron, is believing in your brother and showing up at his door even after six years and leaving everything behind. But I don't expect you to understand. Nerve is standing by your brother even if he's almost addicted to Oxycontin." His glasses were barely on his nose anymore, but he could care less about them at that moment: he had a brother to bring back home, wherever home might've been. "Nerve is something you have no idea about." It was then when he noticed he was shaking, that his head hurt and that his brother was probably physically hurt, but he didn't care anymore. Too late.
”…cripple…”
So that’s what you really think of me, huh?
Era visibly flinches with the word his brother uses to call him a name; it’s been a trigger word for him since he was a teenager. In spite of this, there’s a twisted sense of satisfaction within the older Shinobu when his brother finally breaks free of the restraints he’s had on his temper. He’s taken by surprise, though, when Ken’s hands grip the collar of his shirt and throw him into the wall. Jesus… His brother’s tired, and undoubtedly temporarily undernourished state have made him weaker than Era’s sure he can be, but the fast action is still enough to knock the teacher off balance. He’s almost sure his upper body strength is greater than his brother’s, but he doesn’t raise a hand to defend himself, instead consciously forcing back the reflex within him to get out of this situation as quickly as he can.
He hears his brother’s words and the first flicker of uncertainty enters his eyes, though it’s not enough to make him let go of his train of thought, nor his goal to get his brother to release everything pent up in him. Era winces again when Ken slams him back against the wall a second time, and is caught entirely off-guard when the punch to his liver is dealt. He felt his back buckle over in the instinctive motion to curl up protectively, and a hollow cough leaves his mouth and he practically gasps for air. He’s aware of what a punch to the liver can do to a person, but he’s never before been on the receiving (or delivering) end of such.
His right knee buckles slightly and he sinks a few inches down the wall until he regains his balance, but his awkward position being pinned by Ken leaves him unable to return to his full height. Era lets the helmet slip to the ground from his hand - a short fall. His eyes lock on his brother’s at their level.
So he wasn’t oblivious to the drug habit, after all.
Era takes the verbal beating, with little more to respond to it than the only comprehensible thoughts that enter his mind. ”Of course that bastard would say that.” Era rasps, referring to their father, ”He doesn’t give half a shit about me. He only has eyes for you, his ideal son.” The teacher says nothing about their mother, already aware of how broken she was when he approached her with his decision to move overseas in the first place.
”Clearly there…” he coughs again, and continues to take uneven, nearly gasped breaths to subside the winded feeling from the punch, ”…are different definitions of ‘nerve’, four-eyes.” Era knows that last statement is a lie...compared to what his brother's just said. However, he uses it to lace extra venom through the insult on the, what could be considered suicidal, hope that it will finally remove the last barrier of control on anger that Ken has.
He held him alright, Ken held his brother up and didn't let him fall: wasn't that what he had always tried to do his entire life before Era left? He had done his very best, yet that never seemed to be enough for anyone. No one wanted what was best, only second best.
"He only has eyes for me, that's why he isolated me on campus, forbidding me from coming home. Right. I forgot, you know so many things that happen home." One hand found it's way to the older man's neck and he squeezed a little too much for his liking, fingers pressing into the skin without much of a problem. Even like this, tired and barely conscious of what he was doing, he could feel the pulse, the life of the man before him, and he felt perfectly alright with taking it. Just do it, just a little tighter and he could have ended this pathetic excuse of a man's life without any kind of regrets, but he didn't. Instead, he let go of him enough to bring his fist to collide with Era's face this time: that face he had tried to keep himself from forgetting.
"I don't want anything from you, I had to get to where I am on my own, I don't owe you anything." Another punch, to the other side of his face, and his left punch is just as strong as his right one: ambidextrous. He'd have bet everything that Era never had any idea about that. Though, he rarely had any idea about anything. The thought that his brother was spewing insults at him for a reason didn't even cross his mind: he was far too angry to care about what he might have said.
"Come on, tell me about how you're suffering all the time, you stuck up brat. I'm always the spoiled one, aren't I? You're worse, you Ice Prince. Get off your pedestal, or I'll bring you down." He leg go of him just to make sure he put all his strength in one final blow, a clenched fist to his brother's stomach, forceful enough to make him at least curl up into a ball and die. That was exactly what he wanted.
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by KANE on Apr 10, 2013 11:05:39 GMT -5
Well, the two punches aren't something Era had expected. At least not to the face. The first hit more around his zygomatic arch and eye. It will be black for the next week, no doubt. He'd turned his head just enough so that the punch causes him to tilt one way rather than slamming his head against the wall. The second punch causes him to shift the other way, this time square in the jaw. Good lord.
His face hurt like hell already - Ken's stronger than Era gives him credit for, even in his fatigued state. The futbol training and constant workouts are evident.
The punch in the stomach almost brings him to his knees, and it successfully winds him (fully, this time, rather than partially as the punch to his liver had) and he silently gasps for air, turned to lean against the wall with his right arm entirely against the bricks to support himself.
"You --" Era fails to speak, instead he needs to stop and get more of his breath back before he can even consider the possibility. It takes about twenty seconds to get the minimum amount of air back. "--you should realize it's his method..." he coughs some, left arm crossing over his stomach, "...his method of making sure you become a successful part of...the Shinobu family...a world-famous doctor."
It was just short of a written rule that had stood for three generations. Offspring were obligated to become world-famous in a successful, respectable profession.
He coughs again, "He's not above...harsh methods to stay proud of someone...or make sure there's nothing but perfection in the public eye."
His right arm bends upward, at an odd angle against the wall so he can push himself to stand taller than he had keeled over with. "I'm on no pedestal. Nor do I gripe to you about any "suffering" I may have, you pretentious prick."
He's finally getting somewhere. Now he just needs to let Ken say everything by any necessary means.
He never doubted anything he had been told: simply followed the instructions, took his brother's place, and that made him question the ethics of those around him, his parents in particular. Although he didn't whine and didn't complain: Ken did what was asked of him, like a good child would.
The way Erasmus was taking it all so lightly, these sacrifices he had made just to be acknowledged, it pissed him off greatly, so he delivers another fist to his stomach, and another one, and another one, then a knee or two, not saying a word. Was there anything left to be said? Obviously not. They had nothing else to say to each other and they retorted to violence now. In the end, the last defense was violence.
He wished he could have told him to be a man, to stop blaming everything on their father for wanting them to be successful. Happiness alone never fed anyone, never made the poorest man in the world any better. Happiness alone didn't help, didn't heal and didn't make old scars fade: not even in their case.
But that was enough for him, despite the fact that the two of them might not have been happy, despite having been away from each other for so long, despite the blows that lost their strength entirely, and the younger brother supported his older sibling, helping him stand, not once letting him fall to the ground. He wouldn't let him fall: the heir and the spare, wasn't it always like this? He was the spare, he'd take the fall for him.
He brought one of his arms around Era, holding him tightly, the other twining itself in his hair and pulled him in a hug, an awkward, although heartfelt hug, and rested his head on his shoulder. Era would understand, wouldn't he? He always knew everything, he was always smarter, faster, stronger than he'd ever be.
Pretentious prick that wanted to go home.
The slow barrage of punches and kicks at last warrants a cough of blood from the older Shinobu, and his eyes are shut tight with pain that drains him steadily of his will to remain standing to face his brother. The only move he makes to defend himself is to drop his left arm from in front of his stomach to act as barrier between Ken’s aggression and his sore hip after Ken’s leg brushes it roughly when the younger Shinobu moved to knee his brother in the stomach. The assault goes weaker, but drives Era to the point of near collapse, so when his brother finally loses the power to do anything more, his right leg (long since the only thing supporting his weight aside from the wall) crumples and Era falls.
By some grace, though, his brother had moved forward at the right moment to catch him and hold Era up. His steel blue eyes open finally, and he realizes what’s happened. A sense of relief showers over him and he moves his free right arm – as the left is pinned between himself and his brother – around his brother’s shoulder when Ken hugs him, tightly. Like he used to when they were children. … Era tilts his head back slightly before he tightens his grip around Ken in a return of the gesture, the hope that Ken’s gotten everything he can out by using him as a sandbag burns harshly in Era’s chest.
”Ken…”
The older brother understands.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out at first, until he finally gets his voice – rough as sawdust – back. ”…I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much pain.” It could almost seem petty to say simply that to encompass everything he's now aware he put Ken through, but what solidifies his statement in its whole meaning is the tone of his voice. It's unwavering, truthful, and threaded with unmistakable regret.
Most of the time, he wasn't aware where it came from, this insatiable anger that consumed him, little by little, turned him into a pile of ash only for the fire to start again, thanks to some unknown circumstances. Still, the simple fact that his brother said sorry made Ken's hold on him tighten slightly, enough not to cause Era anymore physical pain, and, gods, he felt his eyes sting, but he wouldn't cry. No, only a child would cry and he was not a child, not anymore.
But time had passed and, despite being painfully aware he should have said something, he didn't: it was enough happiness there for him, when his brother returned his hug, why should he care about anything else? In the end, it had always been about his brother: maybe that was where his anger stemmed from, the point of origin for all that rage that slowly built up in him. In time, he was going to have to let go of it again, but would Era be there next time or was he going to disappear once more?
It wasn't the end of the world as they knew it, even though they had spent a few days away from each other, and it wasn't the end while the two of them were still brothers. Some siblings took long walks in the parks, other siblings liked to taunt each other all the time, but Ken reached the conclusion that him and Era were the kind that would always fight over the stupidest of things only to make up soon after because, well... Ken had to admit, he could not live without his brother.
He merely mumbled an 'It's alright' and let go of a small, barely noticeable sigh. Good, at least the two of them should be fine now, right?
Perhaps this is what an older brother is supposed to be there for. Not necessarily mirroring a sandbag as Era had, but to be someone their younger sibling could release turmoil to and let them get it out entirely.
Perhaps this is something else he's failed at - being the sibling he used to be. After he thinks of that, though, he realizes that he has, in fact, failed.
He pats Ken on the back, a little roughly though it's unintentional, and another cough escapes him. He manages to shield his mouth with the wrist that's behind his younger brother, and Era looks down at the sleeve. More blood.
The teacher makes a note not to go to school tomorrow. More than likely the day after, either.
He sighs when Ken does, and stands with the support of his brother for more than a minute in silence. At least he's gotten everything out... or what Era hopes is everything. It's the least I could do.
There's more silence for at least another minute before he speaks. "...come back to my place for a bit." The words are murmured, and still rough. "You need food, water, and rest."
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by KANE on Apr 10, 2013 17:30:25 GMT -5
Maybe if Era would have been there when he got into his first fight, he'd have known what a vengeful person Ken really was. But, alas, he had not been there when he was needed the most: one of his ex girlfriends had to tend to the bruises he received and, even though he liked her quite a bit, it didn't help at all.
But to go back to his place? "That's a bad pick up line, Era." He found it suitable to chuckle a little, despite the seriousness of the moment, and he carefully stepped a little away, his hands tightly holding his brother's arms, offering him the support he seemed to need.
"Don't tell me that actually worked before." Another amused chuckle and Ken felt a little bad for trying to lighten the mood, though there was little he could do at this moment. He could patch him up, help him feel a little better, but those bruises and that pain he had received, Era deserved every little bit of it.
"Just take a taxi and go home. I'm fine." But he was certain Era didn't care about his well being, at least not for the moment. His eyes took a good look at the damage he inflicted to his face: well, he was going to have a pretty bruise at least for a few days. "You look like shit." He spoke again, though this time guilt coated his words in a thick layer. He probably didn't have to tell him that, he knew it better than he did.
Era manages to laugh weakly and shakes his head. ”Unintended pick-up line…” he murmurs as he looks back at his brother for the first time since the assault had ended. The teacher tries to lean more against the wall so he’s not entirely relying on his brother’s support just yet. ”But...” he sinks down, straight against the wall for a moment and hooks his fingers around the jaw guard of his helmet before he stands again, and grips his brother’s arm to help pull himself up.
”…I think I can hold on to consciousness long enough to drive back.” Era tries to smile, but the bruises already splotching on his jaw and around his opposite eye throb with the expression, so he drops the expression quickly. Another weak laugh escapes him when at the comment about his physical appearance. ”I’m sure I do.” he responds with a shrug, ”But I’ve more than likely looked worse.”
The older Shinobu shifts his weight slightly, to test out his leg. He doesn’t need to do so for more than a few seconds before he comes to a quick conclusion. Nope. A collective beating on top of the usual pain he experiences, in addition to having not taken Oxycontin for little less than an hour past the usual dose rate isn't something he wants to experience for long if he can help it. The leg had threatened to buckle with even the slight weight he tested on it. He glances at his brother before he looks back at the street a short distance from them, unable to hold eye contact for what he says next. ”Lend me your shoulders, Ken," as a crutch, "I need to get back to my bike.”
Normally there's an immense amount of pride that prevents him from asking for someone else's help as he just has. However, after the beating he just took, Era figures that's the least of his worries.
Upsetting, to say the least, how the two of them failed to understand what had just happened between the two of them. Ken had seen people, siblings, a lot older than him and Era who blatantly refused to talk to each other and they looked like one of their limbs had been torn off: perhaps that was exactly what he looked like, off, as Caspian described him, and he had certainly felt like that throughout the few days he had to spend away from Era.
The idea of him driving home made Ken smile the tiniest bit to himself: it all seemed so familiar, even his words earlier, because he would've said the exact same thing to rouse his own anger. "If you say so. You not old, respectable and smart man." A compliment? Perhaps an awkward one, but a compliment nonetheless.
But Ken doesn't linger on it too long: it embarrassed him. So he lent Era his shoulders, despite the tiredness and the hunger he felt: he tensed up considerably, putting forth all the energy and strength he could muster, and helped Era get back to his bike, though he doubted he could deal with driving. Not to mention Ken had failed to tell him he had been in an accident involving one of those back home and it didn't turn out well.
"After I rest a bit and after your bruises heal, I'll give you the worst beating of your life." And his tone was serious, as serious as it could be. He meant every single word.
What spurred that? Awkward...compliment? Can he even call it that? Era says nothing to note it, and instead makes an odd expression in response, and hooks his arm across Ken's shoulders instead so the younger brother can help him back to his motorcycle. The sparked humiliation is muted compared to what it could be, but he ignores it for the sake of using his brother's support to get to the bike.
He slips the helmet on and manages to position himself on the bike without incident - good lord his torso hurt - and he clicks the strap beneath his jaw before he looks back at Ken. He doesn't hear any sort of humor or waver in the younger Shinobu's voice.
....he's not kidding.
"Great." Era says, unenthused with the prospect. Clearly there's still something in his brother that has yet to find its way out. "Ask your questions beforehand - that way your assault seems more justifiable." There's a pause before he adds, "...one week. Just don't land me in a hospital. I think I've spent enough time in them to last a lifetime."
His voice raises accordingly when he turns the bike on and leans forward to grip the handles. Ow.
"Now go rest up." He brings the blackened visor over his eyes and glances in the mirror before tapping the kickstand out with his heel and driving off.
Clearly, settling Ken's anger will take more than he thought.
[/size][/justify] |
|
