Xandra: Okay, pre-warning, this chapter will probably be more funny than action-packed, because writing the chapter before last was boring as hell because of all the action, and the last one was just boring. So, we’re taking a break with some funny. XD

Michio: As long as nobody falls on me or threatens me with their sword. glares at Asahi

Asahi: (smirk) Well, what can I say?

Zelda: Men. I swear.

Xandra: To the story! Enjoy!

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Tabidatsu: Quest for the Greatest Treasure

By Xandra

Chapter Eight: Personal Space

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She needed to bathe.

But bathing involved nakedness.

And there were four men around.

Only one of them knew that she was female.

None needed to SEE that she was female.

…

/Um, dilemma…/ She sat just beyond the trees with the excuse of needing a moment of ‘personal space’. Of course, the men would take it a specific way, but she didn’t care. What she DID care about was the fact that she needed a bath. BADLY. Just thinking about all the parasites and diseases crawling around in the time period and the things she’d been doing for the past two days just made her skin crawl uncomfortably. Sure, jumping in an ice-cold river was an ugly enough prospect, but so was staying dirty.

And then, there was the problem of her bandages, the ones binding her ‘womanly attributes’ flat to her chest to keep them from giving her away. Lily had tied them for her back in the village, but now she had the problems of how to get them off to bathe and back on to keep up her male act.

Worst part, she knew how.

She’d have to ask Asahi. Yet another prospect that didn’t glow.

After much internal debating, she decided that it was her only choice. It was either that, going dirty--a prospect completely ruled out from the get-go--or doing it alone and being discovered.

Sighing in resignation, she headed back to camp.

What she found was startling.

“Evening, Zel!”

She gawked quite openly at the sight of Michio in nothing but his pants, his long indigo haori tossed over a nearby tree-branch. He was in the process of removing the tie from his hair, which left his arms up, every inch of his massive, carved torso perfectly emphasized in the firelight. It took her at least ten seconds to catch herself before she managed to close her mouth. “W-what are you doing?” she asked, trying not to sound too startled.

He pulled the little piece of twine from his thick hair, freeing the living mass to splay out down his back as he shook his head, coarse and dark. “Bathing,” he said, somewhat disdainfully. “The old man says we’d better while we’re here. He’s already out there.” He scoffed, running a hand back through his wild hair. “I don’t see why I should have to. I washed before we left.”

About two days ago. She winced, then blinked as she noticed the massive amount of purple cloth hanging from a nearby limb, sopping wet and abandoned. It was the sorcerer’s cloak, and nearby, she noted his boots and several other articles of clothing she couldn’t identify. Bad enough Michio was stripping, but the other one was off somewhere naked! She was relieved that no trace of red cloth lay discarded anywhere visible, meaning Asahi was most likely still dressed.

“Sir Michio,” Kai’s voice called from somewhere out near the riverbank. Zelda resisted the urge to look for fear of losing her respect for him. However, it was dark enough that she was sure she wouldn’t see anything anyway. Still, it would be like walking in on her father. (She winced again.) “Stop dawdling and come wash. You’re our leader, so act it and set an example for the younger ones!”

Michio sighed, shaking his head, then turned to her. “He’s right, of course,” he grumbled, sullenly. “You coming?”

She turned three shades of red. “N-no, that’s okay!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I-I’ll bathe later!”

The violet-eyed samurai raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he cracked a sly grin. “I wish I weren’t leader, so I could get out of it that way.” He gave a deep, long-suffering sigh before turning to the riverbank. Lucky for her, he took his pants with him.

Zelda fanned her face and seated herself by the fire, nudging one of Michio’s monstrous zori with the tip of her toe as she sat. /Oh my God,/ she thought. /Why didn’t I think of this before? I’m such an idiot…/

Then, something else occurred to her as a gust of wind ripped past, rustling the huge haori on the branch above her and setting the crystals of Kai’s staff to chiming.

/Oh Christ, I don’t wanna be here when they come back!/ She scrambled to her feet and left the campsite.

‘-’-’

Michio tapped the lake surface with his toe, then winced. /Cold./ Shuddering, he peered out over the water and the solitary figure floating there. “Why can’t I wait to bathe until we get to a village?” he called. “Or until morning?”

“Because you reek now, for one,” Kai said, simply. The younger man scoffed, folding his broad arms childishly. “Bathing by daylight is improper when in the company of others, and of course, as leader, you must set the example for Lord Zel and the other one.”

“Would it kill you to call him Asahi?”

“Would it kill you to wash and stop wasting time?” the older man shot back, coldly.

Sighing, Michio finished undressing, then braced himself. /I hate bathing,/ he thought, bitterly. /Especially in water this cold. It’s not healthy…/ Taking a deep breath, he stepped back a pace, then leapt in with a resounding splash as all two-hundred sixty-five pounds of him hit the water.

When he surfaced, he was unsurprised to see Kai giving him a very chastening, fatherly look.

“What?”

He sighed. “Never mind. Just wash.”

Michio scowled. /I wonder if saying ‘I’m bigger, younger and stronger than you’ would change his mind./ He considered, then shook his head. /He would most likely turn me into something he could wash by hand./ He winced at the thought. With no excuse, he set to scrubbing the dirt from his skin, hating that he was being forced to by a man who was practically ancient. “Kai, how old are you?” he found himself asking.

The sorcerer threw his long, lustrous hair from his face, brushing the water from his eyes with the knife of his hand. The gold-banded manacles he wore glittered in the moonlight, and a matching throat-guard became similarly visible. “Forty-two,” he said, simply.

The warrior whistled, silently. He WAS ancient! Old enough to be his own father! (Actually, his father wasn’t even that old…) He certainly didn’t look that old. Apparently, people from his country kept well over time.

“Stop considering my age and tend to your business,” Kai said, scoldingly.

“Do I have to?”

“Sir Michio, how old are YOU?”

“Twenty-four!”

“Then act your age.”

He scoffed, folding his arms. “Why doesn’t Zel have to bathe?” he demanded, sourly.

Kai rolled his eyes, sighing. “Lord Zel is no doubt watching…ASAHI.” He spat the name as if it tasted bad. “To make certain he steals nothing. I’ll have him wash later. Besides, he’s half your size and smells much better.”

“I don’t smell that bad!”

The sorcerer didn’t comment. He merely leaned back in the water and settled to float on his back, gesturing with his fingertips. “Come along, now, finish up.”

He scowled. /Oh, I hate washing! Zel’s so lucky…/

‘-’-’

“PARDON me?”

They’d removed themselves to a well-foliated area that offered a small sheltered inlet to the lake, so as to hide their conversation and subsequent actions. She sighed. “I need your help so I can bathe.”

If Asahi’s face were to turn any more gold, he would look completely human, horn, fangs and pointed ears notwithstanding. “You expect ME to help you BATHE?!” he hissed, quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the others. “How shameless and foul ARE the people of your country, woman?!”

It took her a moment to realize his misunderstanding. “Whoa, hold on,” she said, quickly, raising her hands in surrender, “That isn’t what I meant. I--er…well, here, let me show you.”

“No, no, that’s quite fine!” he choked, hoarsely, turning away.

She huffed. “Oh my God, Asahi, I’m not going to flash you. Here, look.” She indicated the cotton wrappings encircling her torso, pulling her undershirt up just enough for it to be visible. “Just look already.”

He chanced a glance back over his shoulder at her, then blinked. “…Oh…” He blushed even further, if that were at all possible. “What is--?”

Zelda lifted her shirt a bit more, watching him wince in response, then tapped the cotton. “I need your help getting this off, and I’m going to need help getting it back on,” she said, slightly abashed by even saying it. “You can probably guess the function of it.”

“…” This silence is only visibly noted because he opened his mouth, but nothing came out for several seconds. When he finally discovered his lack of words, he nodded, mutely.

She sighed. “Look, I just want you to untie the wrappings so I can take a bath. And I’m going to need you to tie them back up again. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you see anything!” she spat, quickly. “Don’t even consider it!”

Asahi forced himself to look offended, though his mortification for the whole business was more than obvious. “The thought never crossed my mind, chienne!”

“Oh? Then why are you blushing?”

“I am NOT!” he shouted, his face once again turning a metallic shade of gold.

Sighing heavily, she approached him, sending him back a pace or two in surprise. “Just untie them for me and keep guard, okay? I don’t want the other two to find out. You’re the only one I can trust.”

This struck him hard, as she’d known it would. Reluctantly, he nodded. “…Very well.”

“Thank you.” With some difficulty, she removed her jacket and hung it from a nearby branch, then, sending him a warning look, removed her shirt beneath it, revealing her bare shoulders and cotton-wrapped torso. He stared, looking very visibly amazed. “What?”

“Those bindings must be very…uncomfortable.”

She nodded. “Yeah, sort of…” Taking a deep breath, she turned her back to him. “Just untie them.”

From behind her, she heard the softest gulp, then the shifting of brush, and shyly, the bandages shifted. Without so much as a sound, he undid the knot holding them so tightly around her, then drew back.

When she glanced back, she found he’d turned away. His politeness made her smile. (It was sort of a relief to know she wouldn’t have to beat him for goggling at her cleavage.) “Could you keep an eye out for Michio and Kai while I wash? I’ll try to be fast--”

“Of course,” he said, quickly. “Go. Hurry.”

With another nod, she headed off carefully down the bank, grateful for his help. What would she have done without him?

As she prepared for her quick bath, she considered how helpful he had been thus far. Had she just done the ‘smart’ thing in the beginning and not followed Asahi after he’d jumped them, they would all be dead. (Then again, had she done the smart thing from the start, she wouldn’t be on the quest at all.)

What all had he done? She took inventory. He’d rescued her from the thugs at the inn, thereby preventing a mass robbery and the loss of many important objects, and he’d saved them all from the basilisk with his courage and the aid of his voice. He’d revived the petrified Kai, gotten them on the proper track as soon as their fearless leader admitted he had no idea where to go, and he’d been her solid ally all along, if not a stiff challenge socially.

And an antagonist of her patience.

And a catalyst to her explosive temper.

And an all around pain in her ass.

But still, he was dependable, and that was as good a trait as any to cover his trying quirks. She hadn’t known him long at all, and yet, her entire position in this rested on him--his ability to keep her secret and his word. And he had. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t betrayed her so far. He’d come to her call (bitching all the way), and saved her without bidding…as much as that hurt her pride. As mad as he got and as much as they fought, he was valiant, and strong, and good, and he was keeping her secret.

At this point, Zelda was positive that she wouldn’t do well without him while she was here. Not until she learned how to really protect herself and how to navigate.

By now, her clothing was hung at random on several trees, and she was tiptoeing uncomfortably into the frigid water. She entertained the awful thought of her feminine attributes being frozen off by the temperature of the lake. Maybe then she wouldn’t need those stupid bandages.

She hurriedly tried to forget that Asahi would be the one putting them back on her. Then, she realized she’d have to figure out a way to have him do it without catching a peek or copping a feel, whether by accident or intention. Better to think about it than to face that. /Those claws of his look sharp,/ she noted, dryly. /Might be even LESS pleasant to get groped by him. Not that it would be great anyway./ She winced, then reached up to take the band from her hair.

“…Zelda.”

She jumped, then ducked down further in the water. “Asahi--” she began, furiously…but she paused. He was standing pretty close by, but his back was turned and both hands were apparently covering his eyes anyway. “You better not be trying to peek at me, you jerk.”

“W-why I never--” He sounded so embarrassed that she was amazed he hadn’t fainted from lack of blood circulation. It was all in his face at the moment, she was sure of it.

“What do you want?”

“I-I want you to stay d-down, in t-the water,” he stammered, hopelessly, “And tell me where you put the rest of your clothing.”

Her eye twitched, but she stayed down, as cold as it was. “What the hell do you want with my clothes?”

He chanced a glance over his shoulder, turning his head ever so slowly to make certain it was safe. He was still goldish around the cheeks. “I want to wash them.”

She blinked, nearly standing upright in surprise. The moment she shifted, she was staring at his back again. Quickly, she got situated up to her neck in the lake. “You serious?” she asked, minding her voice so as to keep the others across the way from hearing her. He nodded (indicated by the shifting of his hair from behind). “Why?”

“It’s covered in blood. It will attract things to you, mere animals being the least of them. Besides, what would be the point of washing only to put on soiled clothing?”

/Mich and Kai don’t seem to mind it./ Still, he had a wonderful point. “How do you plan to dry it?” she asked.

“I have ways.”

“What am I supposed to wear until you’re done?”

“I’ll be done long before you are,” he said, stiffly. “Stay down and I’ll collect your things.”

She obliged, submerging herself to her nose and pulling the band from her mussed and curly hair.

Cautiously, she watched as Asahi shot across the bank, snatching up everything she’d dropped except her shoes and arm-guards, even the cotton wrapping bandages. In a flash of blood-red cloak, he disappeared into the woods with her outfit.

She sighed, then lowered her head into the water. /If he doesn’t come back, I’m screwed,/ she thought, darkly. She’d lost track of the knapsack Higure had packed for her, carrying her only change of clothing, so that was all she had. Strange thoughts concerning her ability to track him down, nude if necessary, flashed through her mind. It wasn’t a pleasing thought, and she’d seen how thick his hide was. He’d gotten shot and survived, and Michio’s katana reacted like a butterknife against his skull. It wasn’t promising. /I guess I just gotta trust him./

Then, something occurred to her, and she stood up in the water, gawking at the bare bank.

/…He took…my…underwear…!/ Her face flushed and she dunked herself under. That was just what she needed; a smart-assed, half-dragon sorcerer-swordsman walking around with her panties. /Oh great …/

‘-’-’

Asahi avoided the dunderhead and the sorcerer by taking a wide detour through the brush around their campsite, then went to search for another inlet to the lake, the girl’s clothing tucked under his arm. /I had best make quick work of this,/ he reminded himself, /Or else those two fools might stumble across her./

The image of the unorthodox female sitting submerged to her neck flashed into his mind and he noted how different she looked with her hair down. It took all he had to keep from blushing at the very thought. The risk of seeing her in such a position made painfully real the fact that she was in fact a woman, despite her actions and his own personal thoughts toward her.

He gave his head a good shake and set to work focusing on his task as he finally came to another bare area of bank, well away from all the others. This saved him from the risk of being seen by Michio or the sorcerer OR seeing Zelda and getting himself beaten and accused of base lechery.

…In that case, he’d rather face the other two than her.

Sighing, he reached back and dragged his heavy cloak from his sore shoulders, then threw it into the water, allowing the thick, heavy material to sink to the bottom. He set the girl’s clothing aside and quickly scraped some wood together, setting it ablaze with a single gesture, then knelt on the bank and cuffed his sleeves, removing his arm-guards and tossing them aside.

The moonlight glinted off the scales lining his right forearm, and he scowled silently to himself, but forced his thoughts away from his flaws. His time was limited. He plunged his hand into the water, dragging his saturated cloak from the riverbed, then set to scrubbing it against the rough scales of his other forearm, a method he’d found worked just about as well as anything else did. (His monstrous condition was at times a useful thing.) Once he was certain it was clean, he wrung it out with considerable difficulty, then flung it to the fire he’d built.

Without so much as wavering, the water-heavy material floated weightlessly out over it, positioning itself to dry.

Her clothes came next. He was pretty dirty too, but he reminded himself of the chance to bathe at a later time, when the others were asleep. He could wash his things then and not have to risk being caught unawares by any one of his ‘comrades’. So, Asahi summoned her discarded uniform to his side and took up the shirt first, wrinkling his nose at the putrid stench of blood permeating the cloth. However, despite that, another, more gentle scent clung to it. He took a moment to wonder at it, staring at the article in somewhat of a stupor. Certainly, he knew a female scent when he caught it--gentle and muted, unlike the male scent, which was strong and somewhat rancid--but this was different, even nicer. It was this scent that differentiated Zelda from others around him, the one that had told him she was indeed no boy, not male at all…this faint, pretty smell.

He snapped out of it, flushing embarrassedly, then plunged the shirt into the cold water to rid himself of the accursed scent. If he didn’t hurry, there would be hell to pay. He could just hear her shrieking at him. /“Asahi, you asshole! You left me out there without any clothing whatsoever! I’m going to kill you!”/ He rolled his eyes. /Better to rob her of the chance and spare her the shouting./

A wicked image of the crude, unorthodox girl flashed through his mind, standing submerged to her chest, and faintly, he’d been able to see the curves she’d been masking so well. He’d been struck with a stupid epiphany: she really was a woman. His honor had forced him to look away, and it currently forced him to banish the image.

Wringing out her shirt, he tossed it over his shoulder, sending it floating calmly to hover over the fire. Her jacket soon followed, as well as her wrappings. /I hope this isn’t taking as long as I think it is…/ he thought, tensely. Despite how much he fought with, taunted and shunned her, he refused to be responsible for an untimely discovery of her secret. He didn’t want her getting in trouble…

…And he was certain that she’d never forgive him.

He didn’t want that. Sighing, he reached for the remainder of the clothing, snatching up the pants and tossing them into the water. Luckily, they were quite a bit cleaner than the other articles, as they weren’t bloody. He might just keep his word and beat her, time-wise, by returning her uniform before she finished washing. /Women spend hours washing in general,/ he thought, wryly, /I don’t even know why I’m bothering to hurry./ Then again, she was hardly normal, and unlike modern women, modern boys and men tended to wash as fast as possible and get out. And she was more like a man than a woman in those respects.

…Better to hurry.

He shoved his right sleeve up to his bicep and reached into the water, fishing for the clothing, and he certainly got something. What he pulled up wasn’t what he’d been looking for, though what it WAS completely escaped him.

His scaled brows rose ever so slightly as he stared at the small, black piece of material. “What in hell…?”

‘-’-’

“Akira!”

“Go away!”

“Oh, Akira, come on--”

“GO. AWAY. KENJI.”

He paused to consider, then went for a different approach. “Please come out, Nii-sama?”

“Cuteness not working!”

Again, failure. The younger boy sighed, shaking his head. “You big baby!” he shouted through the bathroom door. “You should be happy! The battery’s charged! That means we might be able to get Zelda back!”

No response.

It was probably eight pm--Zelda had been gone from their time for five hours. Kenji wasn’t perfectly certain how time might pass where she was, as the effects of time-travel had yet to be explored. The fact that she could return before it ever happened and mess up the balance was one thing that kept him wondering. If they managed to find her, what if she’d only been there for five minutes? Or five years? As soon as the portal was operational again, he knew he’d have to do some tweaking and experimenting, so she’d have to hold on for a little while. In the event that he managed to open another portal, he would have to calibrate exactly where and when it would open, so as not to open one in China, or a month after she’d landed. By then, she wouldn’t be there.

He sighed, raking his fingers back through his wild, eccentric blonde hair. Even for him, this was a challenge, and as much as he liked those kinds of things, he didn’t like them as much when it meant that a mistake could lose something important.

And though almost no little brother in the world would admit it, his older sister was supremely important…and not worth losing because of some mistake.

/I’ll just have to get everything ready and make it perfect!/ he thought, assertively. /That way, there WON’T be a screw-up! There’s always a way with science!/ Then, he glanced at the bathroom door again. /I wonder if I can build something to get him out of there…/

An alarm sounded from down the hall, a high, wailing honk that meant only one thing.

Abandoning his elder brother, he hurried back to the lab, where he climbed up onto a high stool and peered at his rigged computer monitor. A red two-word marquee ran across the screen repeatedly--a name--and it confirmed his suspicions. He snatched up his megaphone from the workbench. “Akira!” he shouted into it as he deactivated the alarm. “Quit hiding and come to the lab!”

“No!” came the nearly inaudible response from down the hall.

He rolled his eyes. “Stalker-boy is outside the house, you dork!”

There was a short pause, and then the bathroom door burst open and the sound of a wild stampede approached the laboratory. Akira skidded to a halt and raced inside as the young genius plugged in the proper codes, bringing up his security-camera network. “What the hell is Shinomori doing here again?” he snarled, fiercely. “I told him to stay away from here!”

“You think Yukio’s going to listen to YOU, what with how much our land is worth?” Kenji typed in the access code, then struck Enter. “Let’s be serious. I’m not in my -teens yet and even I understand that greed overrules logic.”

The elder of the two cracked his large knuckles. “Just tell me where the asshole’s hiding.”

The screen flashed, only to be covered by a total of six windows, all of which depicted a different view of the house and dojo, via the used webcams he’d rigged around the property. And these were just the outdoor ones. Camera 3 showed a dark form sitting on the ground outside the old dojo.

Kenji took manual control over it and zoomed in, and of course, it was Yukio, the snob rich-boy who had been continually dogging Zelda since the day he’d met her. He didn’t really like her, but it was written in Dad’s will that, when each of them graduated high school, they’d receive something he owned, even if they didn’t have much. Kenji, having graduated last year, had received his lab and equipment in place of his claim to part their home with the promise of access until he no longer needed it, and a car when he was sixteen. Two years prior, Akira had gotten Dad’s old truck, the offer of a job with the firm he worked for (which he’d declined) and half-custody of the house. Zelda was the last to graduate--due in a year--and she would get her half-custody, their great-grandfather’s antique sword, and the dojo.

Since he was a genius, he’d already dissected Yukio’s plans. Kenji had dropped his claim to the house, and Akira was liable to do the same, if and when he decided that Zelda was more responsible and capable of handling it. That would leave all the land in her name, of course, so if Yukio got her to marry him, legally, he would own the dojo and the house--which gave him the right to tear them down for the land-value. They didn’t know why, but their little hilltop plot was worth tons, and the Shinomori family, rich though they were, wanted it. That was why he was always around. He thought he could win Zelda over.

Of course, he hadn’t expected her A: to be an intelligent martial artist, B: to be immune his stupid charm, and C: to have brothers that meant him severe harm. (The youngest Yume owed Yukio dearly for some bad treatment in his high school years.)

Yukio kept looking at his watch in the dark, sighing crossly, and sitting back. “He’s waiting for something,” Akira pointed out, astutely. “What?”

“Zelda.” Kenji indicated the clock. “Every night, she’s usually in there training, remember? He’s trying to get the drop on her.”

“I’LL give him a drop,” the tactless older man growled. He turned and stormed from the room.

Quickly, the younger jumped down and hurried after him to supervise. Couldn’t have Akira killing him or anything. Dad would be pissed, if only for the legal complications. Together, they went to the dojo and flipped on the light, instantly drawing attention from outside. Then, Akira went to the screen and slid it aside, coming to tower over the snob.

He was up and a good seven feet back upon his appearance. “Y-Yume-sempai…” he said, shakily, exhibiting as much false-respect as he could muster to cover the obvious hatred and fear he really felt, “How pleasant…”

“Loitering’s illegal, Yukio,” Kenji sneered from his brother’s side, folding his arms across his chest.

The other’s dark eyes darted to him, narrowing hatefully, but then he remembered who the monstrous shadow towering over him belonged to. He thought better of responding and instead stood silent. It was amazing how well their schooling pattern had gone--When Kenji had been a sophomore (yes, nine in the tenth grade), Yukio had been a junior, and Akira, a senior. While the youngest Yume had been subject to the snob’s wrath, their eldest had been over him in more than one way. That was why he feared him; Yukio was a fake and a bully, and Akira had been his living, breathing slice of hell. Yukio had only learned Zelda was related to them only after the eldest Yume had graduated.

“Gimme a reason not to break your legs, Shinomori,” Akira commanded, flatly.

“Ah…” He gulped, trying to find something. “Sempai--”

“Clock is tickin’.” Akira cracked his knuckles, one at a time, and the rich-boy backed further away. Pop. “Tick.” Pop. “Tick.” Crack. “Tick.” He flexed his fingers. “Time’s up.”

“I just came to wish Zelda a happy birthday!” Yukio sputtered, quickly.

“Good. I’ll pass the message. Leave, or I’ll give her your head.”

Suddenly, he seemed to sprout some courage. “You are aware that threatening another’s safety is illegal.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, and so is assault and battery. And murder. If I’m gonna get arrested, it’s gonna be worth it, so my threatening you is the LEAST of your problems right now.”

“Oh, and you’re loitering,” Kenji added. “And trespassing. That’s illegal.”

“No one asked you,” the snob spat.

Akira jumped down from the dojo, and just as fast, Yukio shot off across the hill. “Get lost, Shinomori, or I’ll do more than just threaten you!”

“Does it frighten you so much that someone could care for your rude, mean-spirited tomboy sister?!” Yukio shouted.

The eldest of the trio just about killed him right there, but Kenji stopped him, catching a handful of his hair to keep him back. “You must be a fucking masochist to talk about my sister like that!” he roared.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking Zelda!” the younger shouted. “But you want our land and you’re not getting it! Take a hike, creep!” He released Akira, and immediately, he was off across the yard.

Yukio took off down the hill, intent on his Malibu parked below.

“You come back here and you’re a deadman, Shinomori,” Akira screamed after him, “I don’t care WHO your daddy is! I’ll KILL you!”

The car raced off with a scream.

Angrily, Akira slammed his fist into the ancient tree positioned just outside the dojo, burying his fist at least a few inches into the trunk. “The nerve of that little worm!” he seethed. “I hope he gets his balls up and shows up again!”

Kenji gave a heavy sigh, then jumped off the floor and landed in the grass. He took his brother’s arm, giving it a tug. “Never mind him,” he muttered. “We’ve got more important things to deal with.”

‘-’-’

As soon as she was as clean as she could be without soap, Zelda surfaced and glanced warily around for any sign of Asahi or her clothes.

Almost immediately, the dark scarlet of his cloak blared through the darkness of the night. There it was, draped carefully over a long limb of the nearest tree. But where was he?

“If you’re not out yet, you had better be soon,” came his voice from nearby. She looked to find him standing in the shadows with his back against another tree, hands clasped firmly over his eyes. His tone was one of reluctance, more befitting of his normal attitude than the embarrassment he’d shown earlier. “Come, now, out. Use my cloak to dry off; I have your clothing, and I’ll help replace your dressings.”

She took a moment to make certain he wasn’t looking, then sighed, folding her arms across her chest and wading back to the shore. Before stepping completely out of the water, she double-checked, but he hadn’t so much as twitched since giving his chain of command. So, she scampered up the bank and snatched the scarlet blanket from the branch, wrapping it securely around her torso, leaving her arms and shoulders bared. It was warm, she was glad to find, and it didn’t seem to be dirty. However, the air was pretty chilly, especially considering the temperature of the water she’d just left. Thank God for his thoughtfulness. Shivering, she cleared her throat, giving her head a good shake to get her hair out of the way. “I’m covered.”

Asahi dropped his hands and opened his eyes, instantly diverting his gaze to the stack of clothing he’d placed in the tree above his head. He snatched it down, then approached, offering it to her without his eyes making any contact with her in any place.

She gave a small smile. “You’re awfully shy.”

“The term is ‘polite’, girl,” he snapped, his glowing cat-eyes floating up somewhere in the foliage above her. “Hurry and dry off.” Clasped in his left hand were the cotton wrappings.

She shrugged. “I’m dry enough.” Once again, she noted his lack of attempt to peek at her, even when she was mostly covered. Not even a cheap glance! He really WAS polite. It was a scary thing, a polite man, considering her times, when boys strove for snuck peeks in the girl’s locker room. Those idiots could take a page from his book. (After all, they had the rest of the pages that made a general asshole.) “You know, you’re going to have to at least look at my back to put those on right.”

His face paled slightly in the darkness; he was blushing again. “…I know.”

Smiling again, she sighed, then took a deep breath and turned her back to him, loosening the cloak and sliding it down to her hips, where she knotted it. She felt sort of stupid and supremely embarrassed to be standing there topless, but she knew wearing her bra under her uniform would have made it just as obvious as standing there naked. She’d just have to deal with it. “All right.”

“…What am I supposed to do?” he asked, his voice dripping with discomfort.

She paused, trying to recall what Lily had done. That had been awkward, and Lily was a girl, not to mention SHE’D known what she was doing…she gulped. Suddenly, she wasn’t so comfortable with this either. “I guess I’ll just have to walk you through it…”

He didn’t say anything.

Between the two of them, they managed to get through the embarrassing, tedious and painstaking task of hiding her gender again, neither enjoying a moment of it and both of them wishing it was over. In between tying of limbs, and the shifting and the tightening of cotton, several angry shouts could be heard in the general area.

“That’s not tight enough! You WANNA get me busted? My rack is showing!”

“Gods sakes, how am I supposed to know what’s tight and--your WHAT?!”

“Oww! You cut me, you jerk!”

“Sorry, sorry! Damn it, stand still, chienne!”

“You keep that up and I’ll turn around, you--ACK!”

“Um…”

“Oww…that’s about as tight as it needs to be.”

“I could undo it…”

“You really wanna do that?”

“…”

“OWW! I said it’s tight enough!”

Finally, it was done to satisfaction, though both of their shy tendencies had nearly butchered it beyond recognition. However, the wrappings, Zelda and Asahi were all intact, for the most part (short of a few scratches and a back-kicked shin).

Sighing, she tapped the cotton, then nodded. “All right, get lost,” she told her accomplice. “I have to get dressed.”

He turned away. “Of course.”

She knelt and picked up her clothing, shuffling through the jumble of clean, dry black and blue material. Instantly, she identified a missing article, and her face reddened. “Hold on a second, Asahi,” she said, quietly. He paused. “Um…did…you happen to find…a…” She turned to glance back at him, only to turn as red as she could.

He hadn’t turned around, but extended his arm, and hanging from his index finger were her panties.

“You pervert!” she exclaimed, her voice rising to a near-dangerous level. She quickly lowered it again and snatched the article from him. “What were you gonna do, keep them?!”

“Hardly,” he snorted. “I forgot I had it. It must be important for you to act in such a manner.”

“YOU…SNEAKY…JERK…”

“Better lower your voice, lest the others hear you.”

She covered her mouth as he strolled away, then scowled at the back of his head. /I’ll get you for that, dragon-boy,/ she thought, fiercely. As soon as he was clear, she threw his cloak at the branch it’d come off of and scrambled into her uniform, putting just enough of it on to hide the rest of her figure. Then, she tied back her hair, snatched up her shoes and hurried off to catch him.

He got lucky; Kai and Michio had returned from their bathing and one of the two was dressed, the other clad in his pants and ringing the water out of his shirt with a sour expression on his face. The moment she appeared, their leader jumped at the chance to get away from his chore. “Asahi! Zel!” he exclaimed. “Where were you two?”

She looked at the auburn-haired man, who frowned, apparently at a loss. “I bathed,” she said, quickly.

Michio blinked. “Why’d you bathe way over there?”

“I’m shy…?”

“Pfft! No reason to be shy.”

That was easy for HIM to say! She just smiled, nervously.

Kai was sitting with his back to the fire, peering up at the two of them, and the shadows cast across his face did nothing to make his cold expression any more inviting. “And where were YOU?” he asked of Asahi, his weak eyes narrowed.

Uh-oh. He glanced at her, but she couldn’t think of a good alibi. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t say he’d been bathing, because he wasn’t wet, and besides, she’d just claimed she was shy--which would defeat her alibi completely. So they’d both be outed, so to speak.

Luckily, Asahi was smarter than she was. “Someone thought it an amusing idea to steal my cloak and run off with it. I was in the process of locating it.” He sent her a bitter look, though from the angle the others were sitting at, they didn’t notice that he’d crossed his eyes.

She refrained from cracking up right there and instead shrugged, catching on in record time. It was a good thing she’d left it behind, or he wouldn’t have an excuse. “I needed to dry off.”

“He won’t tell me what he did with it.”

Kai smirked, silently, and Michio chuckled. “Well, such things happen,” the sorcerer said, snidely.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to be the adult if it concerned Asahi. So, their leader decided to take up the role. “Come on, Zel,” he said, laughingly, “Tell him where his cape is.”

She threw a thumb back over her shoulder, back the way they’d come. “I threw it in the lake.”

Kai snorted in amusement, then went back to the scroll he’d been peering at.

Asahi turned into a child and stuck his forked tongue out at the back of his head. Michio burst out laughing, and Zelda snickered. With that done, he turned and stormed off, but not before whispering a quick “thank you” to her as he passed into the brush.

/Any time, man,/ she thought, smiling weakly. /What are friends for?/

“Better pick somewhere to sleep, kid,” Michio said to her. “Almost that time.”

He was right, of course. So, she went to the tree where she’d hung her satchel and snatched it down, then positioned herself on a plot of grass near the fire, setting her bag down as a pillow. “What are we gonna do tomorrow?” she asked as the huge older man finally slipped his shirt back on.

He shrugged. “Look for a bridge.”

“What if we can’t find one?”

“I guess Kai could make one.”

The sorcerer reserved comment, his back remaining turned to the two as he stewed over his reading. Where he’d hidden that scroll was beyond her, but she didn’t really bother considering it.

Their fourth member returned, looking sour and carting his cloak, which was thoroughly saturated. He’d dunked it in the lake. He didn’t stay at camp long, though; with a passing fake-glare at her, he continued onward and away, apparently to dry his cloak.

“You really shouldn’t pick on him, Zel,” Michio said as soon as he thought Asahi was out of earshot. Then, lower, “I think enough people pick on him in this group.” He indicated Kai with a small nod.

She smiled. “He picks on me too, though. I’d say we’re just about even.”

Michio sighed. “Kids. Geez.” He shook his head. “Well, as long as you’re not just picking to pick, I don’t mind too much. I’m glad that you two are getting along.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. And it was true. They hadn’t really fought since the basilisk incident--actually, the argument following that had been the end-all, it seemed. They hadn’t even argued, short of a little friendly banter now and again. Whether he was finally warming up to her or she was getting used to him, she wasn’t certain, but now that she really thought about it…she was glad.

Asahi once again returned to the camp, his cloak miraculously dry and draped over his arm. The moment he appeared, Kai turned to glance at him and they exchanged a bitter stare before the sorcerer went back to his scroll. Accordingly, he snorted and turned his back on him, sourly.

Zelda shook her head. /Men!/ she thought.

Michio seemed no more happy with it, but he ignored the occurrence completely and offered the returning redhead a bright smile. “Better pick somewhere to sleep, Asahi,” he advised. “Might wanna sleep here near the fire. You too, old man.”

“I’m perfectly fine right where I am, Sir Michio,” Kai said without turning around.

Asahi leered at the back of the fair-haired man’s head, only to pace back a few steps and leap into the air, landing on a sturdy limb of the tree Zelda was lying under. “I think I’d find it safest up here,” he murmured, coldly.

Michio blinked. “In a tree? Won’t you get cold?”

“Certain things are colder here,” he hissed, baring his fangs viciously at Kai’s back. The sorcerer snorted, but ignored him, and as she watched, Asahi’s narrow pupils turned demonically to slits, the fire glinting off his eyes to set them ablaze.

“This is getting really stupid,” she sighed. “You two need to work this out or just stop interacting with each other completely.”

Kai rolled up his scroll, turning his head to peer over his right shoulder, in the chimera’s direction. “I’d prefer the latter choice, if the BOY could possibly learn to contain himself enough to cease in bothering me.”

Asahi growled, and a baritone roar hovered beneath it, like that of a furious animal. “I’d have no problem never hearing your voice again, you blind old bat!”

Michio smacked a hand to his forehead. “Give up, Zel,” he muttered. “It ain’t gettin’ any better.”

“My ass!” she exclaimed. At this, Gakidou honked to remind her of his presence, resting nearby in the brush. She sighed. “Not you, keep out of it.” Her attention shifted back to the feuding men. “You two need to stop, I’m serious! This is idiotic! Why can’t you get along?”

“The old fool won’t LET me get along with him!” the younger accused.

The elder snorted. “I’d hardly trust a demon thief.”

The dragon in the other became terrifyingly evident, as his deadly eyes narrowed, his claws digging into the branch he perched on and an awful sound rumbling in his throat. Everything human in his face seemed to disappear. “Demon…?” he hissed, softly. “DEMON?!”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Very good.”

Zelda growled; she’d had enough. Standing up and not even attempting to disguise her voice, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “KNOCK IT THE HELL OFF!”

Everyone turned to look at her.

“I don’t see why you’re fighting at all, as you have so much in common!” she spat. “You’re both stubborn, egotistical morons, so you should get along just fine! Match made in hell!” As the two peered at her, she took a deep breath, calming herself down slightly and moving into reasoning mode. She looked between them. “Kai, you are too old to be acting like a little kid, and Asahi, you’re smarter than this and you know it. This stupid ‘sorcerer’s don’t get along’ standard is pointless. We need you guys to pull it together and learn to work together. How are we supposed to get anywhere if we’re busy fighting each other instead of the obstacles ahead of us?”

No one argued with her, and all eyes remained focused on her as she stood staring between the lot of them.

“We’re a team,” she said, evenly. “Let’s start acting like it, okay?”

Neither sorcerer nor chimera uttered a single word, but traded a short glance, during which both looked deeply thoughtful. The animosity between them was obvious, but so was the shame. The two of them were both arrogant, obstinate and proud, but the final of the three was likely to keep them from fighting, at least for a little while, because being compared to children hurt that pride. She hoped that would hold them at bay, if only for now.

Finally, they went back to what they’d been doing, their argument completely discarded. Kai turned away, unrolled his scroll and drew his hood up to shield his eyes from the brightness of the flames, while Asahi stretched out on the tree-branch, arms folded under his head. They were most likely sleeping where they were. But they weren’t fighting.

Michio stretched his big, long arms up over his head with a lazy yawn, then patted Zelda on the shoulder as she sat down once again. “Good job, Zel,” he murmured, smiling encouragingly. “That was really good of you.”

She simply shrugged, then laid down on her side, burying her face in her bag and closing her eyes. The ground was cold and sprinkled with rocks, but she knew she’d have to get used to it, uncomfortable as it was. However, she was amazed to find how tired she was, even despite the pain sleeping here would cause her. With a sigh, she settled into her satchel and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to claim her.

----

/‘Zelda…’/

A cold breeze ripped past, removing her one source of heat and startling her awake. She jerked upright…an action she regretted, as her stiff back ached. Groggily, she rubbed her eyes, then glanced around, reaching around for the blanket covering her.

It was then that she remembered they were outside, and she hadn’t had a blanket.

Then what--?

Rubbing her eyes against her arm-guard, she looked around, only to find that it was dark; the fire had burned out. However, she soon located what had been keeping her warm, as her blind hands came to grasp something in the grass next to her. Weakly, she pulled the heavy material into her lap, recognizing the feel against her bare palms immediately. /…His cloak…?/ Confused, she turned her eyes to look up, but the tree-limb was bare. Asahi was gone. /Where’d he go?/ she wondered.

What if Kai’s attitude had finally pissed him off to the brink? What if he was gone…permanently?

She gave her head a good shake and peered around in the dark. Michio was snoring away on his back nearby, and Kai lay resting against a fallen log, wrapped in his all-concealing mantle. They were sound asleep. /He wouldn’t leave this with me,/ she thought, numbly. /He’s gotta be around her somewhere. Where could he be?/

Her answer came in a simple form, as a soft melody echoed from the distance, enrapturing and gentle…the sound of someone humming, but the sound was produced by no normal voice.

She recognized it the moment she heard it, remembering the night at the inn, when the beautiful voice had sung her to sleep when she’d most needed it. That had been open singing, though, while this was just humming…but it was the same.

And she knew only one person who could sing, or so she’d been told.

/What’s he up to?/ she wondered. Setting his heavy cloak in her abandoned sleeping space, she stood up, holding her aching back a moment as she honed in on the direction of the soft, pretty melody. It was easy to locate, as it was closer than she’d thought--not far at all. So, quietly, she crept off to see what would have him up at all hours, and singing, of all things.

She headed off away from the camp down a path that followed the direction of the bank, and steadily, the sound got closer. She was on the right trail, anyway. As the sound drew nearer, her mind puzzled over what on earth he would be up to, especially so late. If he wanted to do something secret, why was he humming? That drew attention. Then again, his voice affected women…maybe that was why she was even awake. The guys could sleep through humming, after all. Still, there was her excuse--where was his?

And then, as Fate would have it, she heard another sound, one that revealed exactly what he was doing up.

-SPLASH-

Her eyes widened and she froze mid-step. /He’s bathing…!/ Her first thought was to turn around and go right back to camp, lay down and force herself back to sleep, which was a very good idea. However, it was only her first idea. Her second was to go see what differences lay between normal, healthy boys and healthy half-dragon boys. She mentally smacked herself. /No! I can’t go peeping on him! That’s not only rude, it’s shallow!/ Then, she paused to consider again. /Am I shallow?/

The humming continued, and her mind made itself up.

/I’m shallow./ With that decided, she crept hurriedly along to see exactly what was going on for herself. She came upon a clearing akin to the one she’d used to bathe in privacy, and what she found was everything she’d expected.

A nearby tree was hung with several articles of clothing that she recognized as his cotton shirt and pants, his sword hung with them by its sheath’s strap. Not far from there was exactly whom she’d been looking to find, and it turned out that she wasn’t the only shallow thing in the area; the water barely came to his mid-hip, revealing more of him than she’d ever seen of any other man. Distantly, she felt her mouth fall open.

His dignity was spared, if only barely, but what was visible was enough. He stood facing somewhat toward her, his eyes closed, so he didn’t notice she was there, but in the process of this, his bared, chiseled torso was made painfully visible. As she remembered from before, gold plates formed to his well-defined abdomen in the way of a snake’s protective plating, and they shone brightly in the moonlight as trickles of water raced across them from his broad shoulders and chest, tracing every ripple of his flesh. Red scales accented the lowermost area of his belly, which terminated in the water and left her mind only to wonder what was beyond. As she watched, he stretched his broad arms above his head, and for the first time, she was able to see how well-formed they were. His hair was soaked, and now wet, it was longer than it had seemed when dry, reaching down well between his broad shoulderblades and resting on either side of his strong neck. Here, lines of those glittering scarlet plates ran down from beneath his jaw to trace gorgeous patterns across his pectorals and shoulders. Drops of water jumped from his hair and dribbled down his sharp profile, drawing her attention to just how handsome he really was. And still, he was humming as his bronze-clawed hands ran tenderly across his body, drawing her eyes.

Her face was probably as red as his auburn hair as she goggled at this, not blinking for fear of missing something. And she was glad when she didn’t, because it was at that moment that she witnessed something nothing short of astounding.

After a few moments more of stretching and washing, he took a deep breath, cutting his sweet melody short in a sort of weak groan as he exhaled. Arms held high above, he slowly lowered his head, and as she watched, two other narrow limbs stretched from his back, as if having appeared from no where, attached from behind each of his shoulder blades. Together, as he lowered his arms, they extended, and five narrow, claw-like prongs grew from each. Their reach was greater than twice his own, and slowly, a thin red film formed between the prongs, and claws sprouted from where the greater limbs bent, creating joins…

She couldn’t hardly believe what she saw then, as he finally relaxed.

He had wings.

----

To Be Continued

Xandra: To be shallow, or not to be shallow? That is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to run and catch a peek of a naked guy, or to sleep, perchance to dream of doing the same thing anyway... my answer? Be shallow. XD Thank you, thank you. Ripped of Shakespeare anyone? Sorry. I was hyper. As for this, it’s an update. How was the chapter, good? Not updating again unless I get a good eight reviews, if not more. (More would be good.)

Oh, and if you like Tabidatsu, check out Shadow Artist’s “Willowbrooke: Shades of Purple”. It’s a great story, written by a good friend of mine, and it deals in magic, adventure, romance…but only if you can deal with slash/shounen-ai. If not, better not go. But it’s cute. I recommend it! Until next time!