K.S.H. CHAPTER THREE: CLEAN-UP

The powerful blue boy an the mischievious brothers swept quietly among the rubble and ash left behind from the boy's "bar fight", brooms in hand and frilled pink aprons strapped over their usual attire. Thanks to their little incident, they had been forced to clean up the place using old, dirty wooden brooms that were golden yellow in colour but were probably a different colour when they were bought. Muchi had tried to protest, saying that an innocent, feeble young boy like himself shouldn't do any work that was supposedly "those mean teenagers' " fault in an attempt to get his brother and the other guy to do all the dirty work, but the bartender wouldn't hear any of it. In fact he probably COULDN'T hear any of it, thanks to all the hair in his ears.

"Jus' hop to et, eh?" was all that he said.

"*cough, cough*!" a loud cough split through the repetitive sound of brushing and the occasional falling debree, as everyone turned and calmly stopped to see where that came from, and soon found a very depressed Muchi surrounded in a cloud of dust, holding the inside of his arm to his open mouth to supress the cough and keep dust from further penetrating his lungs. He finally opened a squininting eye at his new acquaintance, who just stood there and stared.

"Hey, superboy!" he taunted, "Are you gonna go speedy fast and clean this place up already?"

"I can't," the boy replied, "I'm still no good at controlling my speed. I'd probably do more harm then help."

The older brother turned to his brother, sighed, then focused his attention to the mysterious young lad while leaning on his broom out of fatigue.

"Sorry about my brother," he apologized, "he can be a dick at times…"

"HEEYYY!" Muchi shouted, shaking an angry fist at his brother.

"Hey, I don't mind. This is my fault, after all. You guys shouldn't have to clean up after me." The boy replied.

"Oh, that's okay," said the older brother, "It's the least we can do after how you saved us back there."

"No it's not," Muchi objected, "The least we could do would be doing what he wants and letting him do all the work."

"Shuddup or you don't get any supper."

"Gotcha."

Their conversation ended there, and they got on with their work for several minuits until the older brother cut in on the usual monotony.

"Hey, we didn't catch your name," he said, "You mind telling us?"

The boy stood blankly at him for a few seconds, confused, until he remembered something and looked under the colar of his shirt combo for some reason.

"Uhhh… Roje… Roje Hunter!" he finally revealed.

"Wow," Muchi insulted, "Dang idiot can't remember his name!"

His brother gave him look like a mother to a disobedient child, hips at his side, and scolded him, saying, "You apoligize to right now for your disobedience!"

"Sure thing, mom!" he remarked. It looked like the brother was going to smack him, until Roje cut in. "So your name's Mom?"

Muchi started laughing like he heard the funniest joke in the world, and the older brother started to blush furiously out of anger.

"NO!" he thundered, "MY NAME IS NOT MOM!"

Muchi stopped his laughter almost instantly, standing at attendance with a look of fear on his face. 'Mom' took in a deep breath, and calmly corrected himself. "My name is not mom. It is Takuya."

He guided his hand towards his brother's direction. "And this is my mischievious brother, Muchi." He winced at the word "mischievious". "Mom is simply his nickname for me, due to the fact that I have to keep him in line ALL THE TIME."

He calmly walked over towards his younger brother, slapped him across the face so hard cats outside near the garbage actually fled at the sound of contact, waltzed over to his broom, and continued to happilly sweep away while humming a happy tune.

Soon, almost all the rubble was swept up into a tiny corner, and Muchi and Takuya were huffing and puffing with dust on their faces and knees and calaces on their sweaty palms. Hunter was just as dirty, but otherwise unfatigued and not an injury or disfigurement was in sight. In fact, he looked rather energetic.

"So youse fellers done wit' all them cleanings, eh?" said the burly voice of the bartender, his liphair furrowing with every word.

"uh-huh" groaned the brothers.

"And yer done wit' de outshide, too?" the bartender checked.

"uh-huh" they confirmed.

"Then yer all done wit' de cleanin'!"

Muchi insantly came alive with energy, bolting for the front door as fast as he could, only to be caught by the colar by the fuzzy bartender, his static cling aiding him mid-capture.

"Now hold yer horesies!" he exclaimed, "I said youse fellows 're done wit' de cleanin'! I didn't say youse were done helpin' me!"

"WHAT?" Muchi shouted, his legs still flailing in an attempt to break free from his captor's grasp.

"You fellers still got to help pay my fer de plumber's bill he left for repairs!"

"Aw, crap…" he gave up as the bartender shoved Muchi over towards the kitchen of the juice bar, his massive body sealing the exit completely.

"Who did this to you?" An elderly yet well-built K.E.S.S.O. soldier stood over his son's hospital bed, examining his son's bruises and scars that covered his body like chickenpox. The soldier's blue uniform and dozens of badges showed that he was most likely of a high rank. The son just managed to weakly turn a wartorn head mounted on a broken neck towards his dear father, showing a weak grin from a crooked mouth.

"hehheh… S-…Some weird… Blue kid…" he quivered.

"Blue kid? Do you mean like an alien?" his father answered, confused. What had those people done to his child to hurt his young teenage mind?
"No… way…" he replied. "This isn't… Avatar…"

His father just looked more confused, but at least he knew his son wasn't hallucinating too much.

"So, what do you mean by blue?"

"I mean… his hair… his clothes…" his father raised a gray eyebrow in intrigue. "They were all blue. And he was… lightning fast…"

"…Is that so…?" his father said blankly, staring towards the ceiling in a thoughtful manner.

"You… probably think I'm… crazy, huh?" The son asked hopelessly.

"No… not at all son…" He turned towards his son and held the only uninjured part on his body, his right hand, in a clenched fist. "In fact, I think you may have helped a case that was lost for six years."

"Then…" his son managed, "Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure, son."

"Go…" he closed his eyes and plopped down into his bed. "…Kick… his… ass…"

The monitor started to beep, and doctors rushed into the room with difrubulators, urging the soldier out and away from the scene.

"Sure thing… Bull… my son…" He shoved off the doctors, and calmly walked out of the room on his own accord, pulling out and cocking his pistol in an augmented fashion.

"I'm gonna bring you home kid." He whispered.

THIRD CHAPTERRR! And after how long? Sorry for the wait and long broken promise, but it's a hard one to keep, especially with karate, extra gym and such. Just lettin' you know that I'm still alive (Portal FTW) and that I'm still posting these things. Kudos to King Luffy (user) for his wordless motivation that really strived me to finally get this done! Anyway, please R&R and tell me how you think!