AN: ... I know, It's been a while since I've updated. Long story short, life got crazy busy and editing takes way longer than it should. Anyway, thank you to all who favorited, alerted, did a combo of the aforementioned and a special thanks to I'm Sexy, KF2104, Supermangas92, LeaStar, Link Fangirl01, kuroXIII, Kiomori, Skye96, Mizu Hoseki, TearyBlueMoon twice, 5, chronos-girl, azure blue espeon, Kisa167, Cristle and Plushiepaw for reviewing. I'm happy to announce I've added you all to my word processing dictionary, so I don't have to look at all the squiggly lines whenever I type them. All those lines did was end up making me neurotic, but I digress. Also, we are on the precipice of the end of the ToS animation, so there is that. (SPOILERS) I do have to say I was rather disappointed at the grievous lack of Oyako and no fight at the origin seal in the previous episode. That was a let down, to be honest. Still, we have one more episode so I'm still holding out with a smidgen of hope that there will be some oyako. And if not...

... well, we'll get to that later.

I still don't own ToS or any of the characters manipulated below. There is truth in my words, for if I did, I wouldn't have disappointed myself, now would I?

Chapter Twenty Eight: The Age of Flight

Zelos was in a very foul mood. For the past three days, he'd gotten very little in the way of sleep, and as things seemed to stand at that point, any change for the better didn't seem to linger in the horizon, literal or metaphorical. While the scarlet haired seven year old had enjoyed the night life to his heart's content when he'd been his former glorious self, getting dragged out of bed at a ghastly hour in the morning when he didn't have any cavorting to do was not in his top ten list. And, since the last time he'd gone a cavorting had been when he'd been living it up as a fully grown and fancy free adult and not traipsing all over the worlds with the band of would be rebels who'd dragooned him into their ranks, being awake at three in the morning did not sweeten his mood.

The glare of the moon burned brightly into his eyes and he squinted, trying to stave off the intrusive beams that coated the streets he meandered through. Zelos swore under his breath and rounded the corner. About ten minutes prior, he'd been rudely awakened in his manor by an infernal beeping through a comlink in his trench coat pocket. The chosen casanova had pitched a pillow at it, but the piece of magitechnological hell incarnate kept beeping away. Only after he dragged himself from his warm bed, crossed the room and stuck a hand into the coat pocket did he realize exactly which comlink had gone off. Out of all of them, that one in particular had to be the one that went off. It figured.

Rubbing at the circles he suspected were under his eyes, Zelos slinked into another corner and glared sharply at the harpy who had been the one to summon him to the corner of a dark alley at such a Martel awful time of night.

"I'm here, what do you want?" He demanded crankily as he stepped into a shrouded alley. "You do know its nighttime for most people. I know you like to hide behind archeological layers of makeup and rouge, but some of us need our beauty sleep."

"Lovely as ever to see you too, Chosen." Pronyma stepped into the moonlight, blocking out the light so the only illumination was the stray lamppost at the corner.

"So why'd you want me out here?" The stunted cherub folded his arms behind his head and cocked his head at an angle. "Did you want to show off your brand new street corner? And to think you actually listened to my suggestions."

"I have orders from Lord Yggdrasill to debrief you and you will comply, if you want to be allowed to go back to bed."

Zelos smirked.

"You can debrief me anytime." He winked at her. "Though, I should warn you. I don't wear briefs."

"Come back when you hit puberty." Pronyma sniped back. "It has become known to my lord that Lloyd is no longer traveling amongst you. Where is he precisely?"

"Why do you need to know?" Zelos looked her up and down with a scathing stare. "Last I looked, no one was planning on stashing an old soul inside his corpse."

"Lord Yggdrasill must be aware of his enemy's whereabouts at all times for security measures. Why else do you think you would be implemented?"

"Besides to annoy me?" The second grade swordsman shrugged. "If you've got to know, he's with the old man, Kratos. Something about learning more about him and finding a weak point or something, he didn't specify. Dunno why or what he's got up his sleeve though. That's all I've got."

Pronyma's features darkened, though the shroud of night managed to mask some of the expression before she quickly wiped it from her face.

"I see. How... enlightening. What else have you learned, Chosen?"

"Well, not really much to be honest. Colette's still pretty sick and they're trying to take you all down and everything. Guess they don't know when to quit. Kinda commendable, if you're stupid, that is. Oh, and everyone's getting kinda edgy. Colette's keeping something from everyone else and insists there's nothing to know, and the Professor, Presea and Regal are really keeping their guard up. They've been talking about something in secret, and when Pancake and I tried talking to them earlier, they totally blew us off. Same with the short man."

Pronyma's drawn on eyebrows actually moved upwards in surprise, an expression Zelos wasn't originally sure she was capable of expressing in the first place.

"You all are... at odds?"

"I dunno about that, but it's not exactly sunshine and daisies, if that's what you're asking. People are hiding secrets and nobody's talking, but I don't know if I'm the only person who's noticed this. Maybe it's just me, but there something going on and hell if I know what. And believe me, I've been trying to find out. Whatever they think they're on to, they're not telling and they're keeping everything under wraps. It's really honking off the walking sidewalk."

"Who?"

"Sheena."

"Ah. Anything else you wish to add?" Pronyma folded her arms against her ample bosom.

"Not really." The cherubim chosen scratched at his cheek. "There's not a whole lot to tell other than that. We're doing what you said he wanted and are going around looking for the cure to Colette's funky cold, so there's that."

"So the Chosen's illness has been diagnosed?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" Zelos arched one sardonic, yet carefully manicured eyebrow. "Nice of old jumpsuit to keep you up to speed. Anyway, we're heading to Altamira for the first ingredient. Should take us a while to get there, even with the rheairds, so be a dear and don't show up, mmkay? You don't exactly fit in with the local color, you get me?"

The harpy of a harlot desperately looked like she wanted to retort with an even more scathing reply, but Zelos knew she knew he was right. A get up like hers right in the middle of a tourist attraction would be anything but conspicuous and if any passerby mentioned even the slightest hint that she was nearby, the rest of the group would bolt like a spooked gaggle of neurotic geese.

"... fine. However, I'll be keeping in touch." Pronyma glowered down at him. "Don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare get my hopes up." The cherub of a chosen yawned into his fist and walked away, waving lazily over his shoulder. It was almost pathetic how easy she was to rile up. He didn't even have to try, not really. Halfway around the corner, Zelos stopped his lackadaisical cadence and listened for stiletto heels clicking on the cobblestones. Nothing caught his ears. So she'd taken her leave then and wasn't trotting after him in an effort to catch him in an unsavory position. How wise of her, and how fortunate for him.

The short second grade swordsman sighed and ran his hands over his bleary eyed face. Wandering about the town in a sleep deprived haze, answering to multiple comlinks in the middle of the bloody night, being at the caller's beck and call when summoned, when told 'jump', having to answer with 'how high', all for the sake of freedom. His eye twitched. The irony was just sickening.

Groaning, Zelos shoved his hands into his pockets and began his long trek back to his mansion, all the while trying not to fall into a stray wall should his balance decide to fail.

"Y'know, I'm starting to wonder if this whole triple agent thing is worth all this trouble."

Lloyd peered down into the watery depths of the fountain at the base of the second floor of Meltokio and glared at it. There wasn't anything too horrible about the fountain in question, but he wasn't looking at that per say. Lloyd was much more preoccupied scrutinizing his reflection in the water. However, despite his sour expression at himself, there wasn't anything too particularly awful about it either. By all accounts, he didn't look terrible, two eyes, one nose, a healed cut over his eyebrow and no missing teeth. All and all, Lloyd appeared to be a fully healthy first grader. Still, regardless of his healthy visage, he continued to stare unfeelingly into the water, waiting for a ripple to show him a vision of the days yet to come.

Yet try as he might, no vision or spark of revelation struck his senses. Sighing with no luck whatsoever, Lloyd rested his forearms on the fountain's slick edge and pulled at a piece of hair that drifted over his nose.

'I'm just being a giant dork.' He let his eyes sink back down to his depressed looking reflection. 'They look fine. I shouldn't even be bothering to look.' Ever since he'd woken up that morning, the bantam boy kept finding himself staring into anything with a reflective surface and observing his face with more effort than he probably had done in all his seventeen years on the planet. He'd never thought of himself as a vain individual, but the more he stared at himself in the fountain, the more Lloyd realized he had the potential to rival Zelos if he kept it up. Lloyd snorted and pulled his gaze away from the water.

Yeah, well, at least he had a good reason for being a little concerned. Zelos was just being stupid. HE didn't have to be worried about... them.

Lloyd suddenly shook his head and growled. When had he ever been this concerned about his appearance before? He wasn't that shallow. Never had been and never would be. Yet, if that was the case, why did he constantly find himself gaping at anything with enough shine to show him his face? Snorting angrily, Lloyd smacked the water so his visage disappeared in a rush of ripples and tucked his face into the crook of his arm.

All morning he'd been obsessing over his visions that occurred in the night, but he more than anyone else should have realized that that was all they were; visions, illusions and dreams. The images that had played through his mind the night before were just weird concoctions of his own imagination. It's not like they were really real...

... right?

Turning, Lloyd sat down on the edge of the fountain, folded his arms against his chest and sank his head down in thought. Last night he'd had a nightmare, not the worst he'd ever had mind, but certainly one to make an impression. Despite his efforts to forget his terrible dream, Lloyd hadn't been able to do so. The images of the two shades dissolving into the inky vision, followed by a horrifying scream, were enough to send a grown man into a panicked frenzy, let alone a teenaged boy turned first grade kid with the weight of the world balanced precariously on his prepubescent shoulders. Still, after all he'd seen ever since he'd started the world regeneration journey, a little thing like a silly nightmare shouldn't have been enough to keep him up at night.

Why this one was an exception he had no idea.

No, that wasn't quite right. Lloyd had a very good idea why the dream had stuck with him so violently. The screams at the end of it had done the job, there was no denying it. A sound that summed up all the utter, optimizing agony that could be endured and suffered by any sort of sentient being wasn't one to be forgotten or ignored.

Still, he knew that if he'd stopped dreaming at that point during his sleep cycle, he never would have gone back to sleep, so Lloyd had steeled himself and forced himself back to sleep. However, while the dream from before was no longer the main focus, another had drifted through his mind. One that inadvertently had been the cause for him to stare at any sort of reflection he could find.

The second dream had been equally as hazy as the first, with shadows and blinding light blocking any semblance of a proper view, but the content Lloyd could recall as plain as day. Apparently, in the dream or vision or whatever it had been, Lloyd's mother -he figured it had been his mom- had been outraged when Lloyd had received a haircut courtesy of someone who could not have been mistaken by anyone other than his father and had proceeded to give him one hell of an earful for it. According to her, his hair had been cut at a weird angle and 'was so short, his ears stuck out like dinner plates' and 'how could he -Lloyd suspected his Dad- have done like that to her precious baby?'.

Dinner plates. she'd said. Lloyd yanked at one of his ears uncomfortably. They weren't that bad, were they? Glancing down at the water again, Lloyd groaned and tugged sharply at the rim of his left ear. Yes, yes they were. They were round, large and very much in charge. In fact, if he was of the dramatic sort, Lloyd would have even gone far enough to say that they were the showcased feature of his face, a fact he found to be rather unsettling. He didn't want the first thing people found striking about him to be the birds perched precariously on his ears.

Sighing a tad, Lloyd groaned into his hands. He knew he shouldn't put so much stock in something he wasn't sure was real or not, and it had been a hazy memory at best, but that part was so vivid, so real, the scene didn't feel like it had been one he'd made up out of the crevices and dregs of his memories.

Lloyd faced the fountain once more and peered into the depths.

"... my ears really DO stick out." He tugged at his ear again and sank against the fountain miserably. Why hadn't he noticed before? Lloyd knew he wasn't the most observant of people at the best of times, but you'd think at some point in his life, he'd have caught sight of the large serving platters attached to his head-

"Lloyd."

"Huh?" Lloyd tore his eyes away from the stagnant water to see Kratos standing at his side, sword at his hip and stern glint in his eye.

"I've made the final preparations for our departure. Let's go." Kratos pointed lacklusterly towards the stairs and started towards them, regardless of whether or not Lloyd was in tow. Shrugging, Lloyd quickly got to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Okay." He nodded and trotted after Kratos' lengthy gait. "Hey Kratos? Can I ask you something?" Kratos sighed.

"Something tells me you will regardless of my answer."

"You DO know me, don't you?" Lloyd grinned, but quickly became somber when he remembered the dreaded topic of the day. "Do my ears stick out?"

Kratos screeched to such a sudden halt, Lloyd almost ran into him.

"... what?" The elder seraphim inquired, his expression blank and mildly shocked. Lloyd yanked on his ears.

"Do my ears stick out? Be honest."

"I..." Kratos cleared his throat uncomfortably. "...I suppose they do... a little."

"They do?" Lloyd's shoulders slumped and he gazed into a nearby puddle. "Hm... maybe I should grow my hair out. That'd cover them up, right? What do you think?" Despite his view span focused on the puddle, the silence filling the air around him gave the distinct impression that Kratos was staring at the stern of his head like he'd decided to sprout a nose out the back. Lloyd looked up. Sure enough, his initial hypothesis had not been incorrect.

"... I loathe to ask, but what brought this up?" The seraphim swordsman asked apprehensively. "And since when have you been concerned about your appearance? I distinctly remember your teacher having to manhandle you into attempting to comb your hair."

"I only refused because every time I tried to comb it, all the tines in the comb would break off in my hair and I'd been pulling out comb bits for weeks." Lloyd protested halfheartedly. "And the reason I was worried -well, not worried, exactly. Maybe just a little self conscious- wasn't because of that. Do you remember when you said sometimes things that we've forgotten come back?"

Kratos nodded.

"Alright, don't think I'm crazy, but last night I think I remembered something. Something from a long time ago and... I think my parents were in it."

The elder seraph's eyebrows shot towards the sky.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it had something to do with a haircut that I got from my Dad and apparently my Mom didn't approve." Lloyd added. "She said my ears stuck out. Like dinner plates, she said. And... after looking at myself all morning, I can't say I disagree. Why my Dad did that to me, I don't know."

"... ah."

"Anyway, the more I got to thinking about it, the more I think I should grow my hair out." Lloyd pulled the rogue strand of hair that tickled his nose straight out and let it go, so the piece of hair sprung back into place. "And that got me to thinking... what if I've had the same haircut she didn't like this whole time? How embarrassing would that be to find out the haircut I thought she'd given me had been one she'd hated? What a way to honor somebody's memory. 'Hey, I have that haircut you didn't like and I'll remember you every time I look in the mirror and see the haircut you disapproved of'."

"Do you like it?"

"Huh?" Lloyd blinked. "Uh.. I didn't really care all that much, but-"

"If you like it, then you should be free to make your own decisions." Kratos replied coolly. "But.. if you find it bothers you to... how did you say it -have ears the size of dinner plates- then it would suit you to grow out your hair and use it as a shield of sorts so the world won't see them."

Lloyd's head caulked at a curious tilt.

"You mean sort of like how yours grows?"

Kratos' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"... what are you implying?"

"Nothing!" Lloyd frantically waved his hand up and down, though that did very little to assuage the mutinous expression mounting on the seraph's visage. "Nothing. I was just asking if that was what you meant when you said growing out hair and stuff. I didn't say YOU had big ears. Yeesh, don't be so touchy." Rolling his eyes at Kratos' defensiveness, which he couldn't for the life of him fathom why he'd suddenly become cranky.. -er, Lloyd returned his interest back down at the puddle by the stairs.

"Well... my ears do get cold sometimes. Best just deal with it and grow my hair out. That'll hide my ears too. Too birds, one stone and all that." In winter, Lloyd had always complained about how his ears were always colder than the rest of him, and that one time when he was ten he almost got frostbite on one, so perhaps growing out his hair wouldn't be so bad anyway. Once the hair was long enough, that would solve both his issues with appearance and the risk of frostbite. Camouflaging them was really the only sensible option Lloyd had. He couldn't very well hack of his ears, now could he? Hearing was much more important than vanity and besides, if a little hair could solve the problem in the long run, how much of a problem was it really?

Kratos was right. In this instance, being practical was the best way to go, regardless of whether or not that initially trumped his instincts. The hair would just have to grow.

"Hey, there sure are a lot of guards out today." Lloyd pointed to the platoon of knights stationed at the front gate when he touched down on the bottom floor. "Wonder what they're guarding."

"I don't want to risk getting too close to find out." Kratos replied coldly, hand ever fastened to the hilt of his sword. "We'll have to go into the sewer."

"Why the secrecy? I thought you said if we ran into any sort of resistance, we'd have to fight our way through."

"And start an all out riot in the middle of the most populated city in Tethe'alla? Contemplate the results of a en masse panic. There would be stampedes of panicked people rushing about the town and you've not lived until you have seen the remains of a freshly trampled victim-"

"Okay, okay, I get it already. Spare me the details." Lloyd interrupted, a shudder flailing down his spine. He didn't doubt Kratos' knowledge of what a julianne corpse looked like, but he didn't really need the visual treat.

When they reached the entrance to said sewer and Kratos pried out the manhole cover, Lloyd stuck his head down the pipe and quickly retrieved it. He wanted to retch. There was something down there. Something that smelled unbelievably foul. And that was compared to how it normally reeked.

"Down there smells nastier than usual." Lloyd reported with a grotesque face. "Like somebody left out some nasty rotted hamburger in the sun for ten days." Frowning, the elder seraph joined his charge in observing over the top of the sewer entrance and drew back, expression just as repulsed as Lloyd's had been. Lloyd snickered. Even Kratos couldn't fend off a grossed out face when up against such a bad stink.

"Stay here." Kratos told Lloyd and climbed down the sewer. Lloyd watched him go until the darkness swallowed him up and sat by the edge. He didn't know how long the seraphim took before he quickly climbed back up the rungs of the ladder and slammed the manhole cover back into place, but it couldn't have been more than two minutes tops.

"Kratos?" Lloyd raised an eyebrow at the elder man. "Why'd you cover the sewer lid? You just said we were going to go through the sewers to get out of here. We can't very well do that if the lid is back on." Kratos didn't answer immediately. Instead he took a very deep breath and glanced at Lloyd from the corner of his eye.

"... I'm going to revise my previous statement. We'll take the back exit instead."

Lloyd blinked.

"What? Why?"

"Do you remember what I said when I mentioned the trampled remains of a freshly stampeded victim?"

"Yeah."

Kratos looked over his shoulder at the manhole cover.

"I believe I may have just stumbled upon a prime specimen to prove my point."

Lloyd's eyes fell upon the manhole cover with utter repugnance and he stared at Kratos.

"You mean... that gross smelling pile of hamburger is-"

"-WAS, yes."

"... ew."

Blond hair fluttering behind her, Colette flounced down the hall in a flurry, hand clutched over the comlink she'd been assigned before parting company with the friends. Despite her usual cheerful countenance, her face had drawn into an irritated pout and she frowned unhappily at the device as she ran. Prior to the darn thing going off, she'd been in the midst of finishing up her puppet version of the Goddess Martel with the assistance of Yuan, but just as she was about to sew the last eye, her pocket had buzzed with an incoming call. After she expeditiously excused herself to the facilities, Colette ducked into an alcove, removed all trace that she'd ever been annoyed from her outward behavioral display and flicked the comlink on.

"Hello?" She whispered into the microphone. "Guys? Is that you?"

"Hello Colette." came a flat affected tone through the receiver. "This is Presea. How are you?"

Colette visibly relaxed. Presea wouldn't be the one calling if there was an emergency. Likely that role would have been reserved for either Genis or Zelos, who would then be shrieking bloody murder while explosions sounded off in the background.

"I'm great, thanks for asking." She replied blithely. "How are you?"

"I am performing adequately. However, while I am contented you are also at optimum efficiency, this call is not merely to exchange menial pleasantries. There is a task we must ask of you that is of the most delicate nature-"

"-Presea, how about I handle that." There was some shuffling on the other side of the connection. "Hello Colette, this is the Professor."

"Hi, Professor, how are you?" Colette repeated the same question. "Doing well?"

"Fine, thank you. Colette, we need you to do us a favor."

"What kind of favor?" The blonde lilted her head in interest. "What can I do?"

"We need you to interrogate Yuan for us about something to do with Kratos."

Colette's face ran pale like marble.

"... o-oh? What about?" She asked, trying to keep the sudden shakiness out of her voice and failing miserably.

"We need to know whether or not... Kratos has ever had..." The professor cleared her throat. "...intimate relations with a companion, most specifically a female one."

"What do you mean? You mean like a best friend?"

"No, closer than that."

"Oh, you mean an imaginary friend? I used to have one of them, his name was Bosco-"

"No, no, you misunderstand. We need you to ask Yuan if Kratos has or has had... a family." The Professor sighed in what seemed to be a very pedantic fashion. "You know, more than just parents. Like... offspring or..."

Colette suddenly found herself incredibly grateful that she was not in their presence in any other sense but her voice. None of her friends could see the sheer look of panic gracing her face that way. Swallowing hard and trying to keep a steady head, Colette held onto the comlink with both hands and tried to stop them from shaking.

"What's this about?" She inquired quietly. "Why do you want me to ask Yuan about Mister Kratos' personal life? What are you looking for exactly so that I might be able to be specific?"

There was silence on the other side of the line.

"... nothing really important. We just need to get to know the enemy." Raine finally replied. "And... if we do know more about Kratos' personal life, perhaps we can find a weakness to exploit."

"... like family?"

"Yes, that's one angle."

"Well, uh... then you're in luck. I already asked Yuan." Colette replied as fast as she could muster. "He said that he didn't know anything about that sort of thing."

The Professor snorted and the bantam blonde could practically see her eyes rolling by sheer snort alone.

"Of course he'd say that." Raine retorted impatiently. "You need to dig deeper-"

"Oh, I did. I asked him if he was sure he didn't know anything about that and he said that if he found out anything about Mister Kratos, he'd let us know. He's got no reason to hide anything about Mister Kratos, after all."

Another exasperated sigh sounded through the receiver. Apparently Colette's efforts to cease the Professor's nagging had worked to a certain degree, though whether or not she had permanently stopped them or merely abated them temporarily was anyone's guess. Regardless, if the poignant expulsion of breath was anything to go by, the professor had lost what patience she'd had and resigned herself to the fact that no matter what she said, Colette was going to continue insisting Yuan knew nothing. Which of course was true, if Colette had anything to say about it.

"Well, just keep at it and I'm sure you'll get somewhere eventually." The Professor's voice droned out of the speaker. "You seem to have charmed him somewhat."

Colette stared at the comlink.

"Ch-charmed him?" She repeated incredulously. "Oh, I don't think I did that. He's just really nice when given a chance-"

"Just keep trying anyway. And when, not if, you find anything out, let us know."

"I'll try, but I don't think I'll get anything else from him. Talk to you later then." Colette cut the connection between the links and sank against the concrete wall of the alcove. She sniffed deeply and shook her head that rested in between her legs, trying to keep her adrenaline from rebounding in the form of hysterics.

"... I'm sorry, everyone." She murmured, guilt riddling through her body in the form of dry sobs. "But I promised not to tell. I promised Mister Kratos I wouldn't tell. I don't break promises." Colette hadn't wanted to lie to her friends. She never wanted to do so if she could avoid it. However, the way circumstances were, she couldn't tell them the truth. If any of them found out Lloyd was related to Mister Kratos and they wanted a way to get to Mister Kratos through a side door, Lloyd would be their best shot. Even if they were her friends, she didn't think she could let them do it, use Lloyd as a weapon. Not that they would if they found out Lloyd was their key to exploit Mister Kratos, but regardless, she couldn't take that chance.

Colette wasn't sure how Lloyd would react to being related to Mister Kratos, but if he found out in a way that involved him as leverage against Mister Kratos in some form, there wasn't a chance he would take it well. He'd probably see them as using him and Colette didn't want Lloyd to ever think so badly of his friends.

Besides, she'd already made a promise to Mister Kratos she wouldn't tell or interfere. She'd made a sworn promise to keep his confidence and if that meant lying to her friends in order to keep it, that was the price she had to pay.

Lying in order to keep a promise. That wasn't really lying, was it?

Swallowing hard, Colette got to her feet and brushed her cheeks with her hands. She couldn't stay in the corner wallowing like a little kid. She had company to attend to and a puppet to finish. Taking in a deep breath, Colette banished her uncomfortable and misery stricken face and stepped out of the alcove just as fresh faced as she'd been upon entering.

When she returned to the Renegade leader's office and stepped through the door, Yuan looked up from the desk where the Martel puppet sat waiting for its eye exam and nodded to her in greeting.

"You certainly were gone a while." He noted. "What took you so long?"

Colette trotted over to the desk, clamored onto her chair and picked up the Martel puppet and the threaded needle.

"... oh," She stuck the needle into the face of the puppet. "Nothing really important."

Kratos scanned the expansive field in front of his eyes and found himself satisfied for the first time that day. It had taken him a while to find such a field, nearly three hours of flying around with a backseat flyer attached to his shoulders, but after he'd passed by some farms, Kratos found a perfect grassy field just outside the last farm's outskirts, past a vast cornfield. He couldn't have asked for a better location. There were very little in the way of people around to witness any sort of abnormal phenomena, and the field held plenty in the way of space so maneuvering around wouldn't be an issue either. This field would be perfect for going over the basics of angelic flight with as little hindrances as possible.

However, that would only be possible if his pupil decided to stop dragging his little heels and get over there so they could begin.

"Lloyd, kindly stop terrorizing the geese and get over here before I cast judgment on you right here and now." He called to his son, who had found a flock of geese and had taken to herding the gaggle up and down the field.

"Sorry." Lloyd bid farewell to the geese he'd been chasing and trotted over to Kratos, a few feathers in his hair and a winded grin plastered on his face.

"Lloyd, you make look six, but in reality you are seventeen years of age. Why were you chasing the geese?" The seraphim swordsman interrogated disapprovingly. Lloyd just grinned at him.

"I know I'm not supposed to, but I couldn't help it. I like geese."

"I figured as much. Whether or not the geese like you is a different matter." He folded his arms against his chest. "Leave them alone before they attack you."

Lloyd paled.

"Geese ATTACK people?"

"Yes." Kratos nodded. "You've never heard of attack geese? They are quite aggressive, second only to swans, and have no qualms when it comes to attacking any perceived threat."

"Wait, second to swans?" Lloyd asked incredulously. "You mean swans are mean too? But I thought they were supposed to be majestic and graceful, like in that one ballet. So that ballet is wrong?"

"Not necessarily." Kratos replied. "You obviously have never crossed swords with a thwarted prima ballerina."

"I won't." The smaller of the two shuddered and rubbed at his arm in an effort to warm himself. Sniffing slightly, Lloyd peered around their newfound surroundings and became increasing fidgety when the listless air of tranquility reigned down on him.

"So... field." Lloyd murmured in an effort to kill the quiet.

"Yes, field." Kratos nodded.

"Why the field?"

"Have you really forgotten that quickly?" Kratos raised one very exacerbated eyebrow. Lloyd blinked.

"Forgotten what?"

The elder seraphim drew in a pained breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't usually swear much, for he believed profanity to be the linguistic crutch of the inarticulate, but one thing he swore was that Lloyd had the attention span of a cookie.

"Your... oh, never mind."

"What?"

"Flying lessons."

"Oh... OH!" Lloyd's russet eyes lit up as the memory came careening back to his swiss cheese steel trap of a mind. "Right, flying lessons, sorry I just-"

"Forgot?" Kratos offered as his left cheek twitched ever so minutely. Lloyd rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly at the elder swordsman.

"... er... yeah."

A snickerdoodle with extra sugar. Maybe a touch of cinnamon.

"Summon your wings and we will get started." Kratos shook his head burdensomely and walked towards the center of the field. Lloyd ran after him in a bouncy trot.

"Kratos, I would, but I'm not sure how. I mean, the few times it's happened, I couldn't control it and I almost floated out the window the last time. Just how am I supposed to-"

"First, stop thinking you can't. That is a self fulfilling prophecy." Kratos interrupted tersely. "Second, stop talking. Third, start thinking about summoning your wings. Apply all your willpower and attention into summoning them and visualize the mana protruding from your back."

Lloyd quickly shut up, to Kratos' grateful ears, and closed his eyes. After a good five minutes of willing himself to near death, cerulean tendrils of mana sprang forth from the slight six year old's back and lifted him so he hovered perhaps a foot from the ground.

"Very good." Kratos said appraising. "Staying stationary while hovering is the first step, and I can see you are proficient in that regard. However, very rarely will you just be hovering directly above the ground. There is usually no need for doing so, as many angels simply prefer to walk. When you do have your wings out, generally that will be when you are high above in the air, probably in crux between the upper troposphere and the lower stratosphere. The second step for your development will thus be practicing hovering where the oxygen is weaker, to give your body a chance to adjust and prepare for any potential altercations-" He stopped. Lloyd was strangely quiet. Normally he'd never have gotten that far without at least one interruption.

Kratos looked at Lloyd and found his son was still in the midst of meditating, his eyes closed and his head bowed.

"Lloyd, you can stop focusing now."

Lloyd didn't answer.

"... Lloyd?" Frowning, the elder seraphim came closer to the lilting form of Lloyd and examined his son closely. Lloyd wasn't in a serious trance, nor was he concentrating in a deep sense.

Lloyd had fallen asleep.

Typical.

"LLOYD!"

"I didn't eat the pie, I swear-" Lloyd jolted back into the world of the conscious and hyperventilated as his eyes focused back on reality. "I... oh."

"Hello." Kratos greeted crossly. "Nice of you to rejoin me. Have a nice nap?"

"... no." Lloyd tried to kick at the ground, but missed by a foot. "The professor was yelling at me for stealing a pie. Of course she made the pie, so I should have known that her yelling about me eating it wouldn't have ever happened in anywhere by a dream."

"I see. Then perhaps I can rectify that and yell at you for something you did in reality."

"I didn't mean to." The skinny six year old protested. "I was trying to concentrate and think about my wings -which didn't have anything to do with hot wings, by the way- and it just sort of happened. I didn't exactly get much sleep last night anyway. And, it's not like that wing exercise... hey, it actually worked! And I didn't even need to hit myself in the head."

Kratos pinched the bridge of his nose.

"... lovely. Now, try flapping your wings and lift yourself further from the ground. Don't go too high too quickly, because you will lose your balance if you rush." Lloyd nodded intently and shut his eyes with a snap. From where he stood, Kratos watched Lloyd work intently, just in case the small boy decided for another quick cat nap. However, Lloyd appeared to be wiser than the man gave him credit, because his wings began to slowly but surely float up and down. However, the flapping increased in pace until Lloyd looked very akin to a spastic hummingbird.

"Lloyd... have you always had that problem?" Kratos tilted his head to the side in mild curiosity. Lloyd wrinkled his nose.

"What do you mean?" He asked. "What problem?"

"Your wings are -how do I put this delicately- your wings appear to be hyperactive. Were you aware of your apparent... trait? Or do you enjoy appearing to be a hummingbird with an energy problem?"

Lloyd looked over his shoulder at his wings and groaned.

"Great, that's just great." He groused. "I don't flap. I flutter."

Kratos' eyebrows lifted towards the clouds.

"I understand your concern, but I don't think you understand exactly what I am trying to tell you-"

"No, no, I get it." Lloyd groaned. "I'm not supposed to flutter. What guy 'flutters'? You don't and Yuan doesn't and not even Yggdrasill flutters. My wings are girly. I have girly wings." With a defeated face in hand, Lloyd stared down at the ground and heaved a defeated sigh.

"And they aren't even pink."

"You'll live." Kratos interjected while rolling his eyes. "I was not objecting to that. Merely slow the pace of your wings down. You will burn too much energy otherwise. The 'fluttering' as you so called it, is not to be concerned. Small wings tend to do that."

Lloyd's dismayed expression grew more severe.

"... small?"

"Yes, but do not fret. I can see you wish to fret by just looking at you. They will most likely increase in span when you return to your original form. Do not give me that look."

"Yeah, right." Lloyd frowned. "Until then, I'm Mister Small Wings. That's the name Colette came up for a stunted budgie. I don't want to be a stunted budgie."

"Like I said before, you'll live." Blue mana unleashed in a cluster brought forth his own pair and Kratos assessed his charge. It was really amazing, how far Lloyd had come in his own way since he had first begun. Having barely known anything other than his own self taught techniques, he had done quite well for himself. Yes, he still had a long way to go, and yes, his attention span was still quite limited, but perhaps that was part of his innocence that just refused to die. Despite what he'd seen during his travels, Lloyd wouldn't relinquish his initial innocence when it came to the essential goodness of other people. He knew it was horrible to say, but in a way he deeply envied that in Lloyd, as he had in Anna and originally Mithos. How he envied them, but he couldn't bring it within himself to deny that part of reality. Reality was harsh and unforgiving and he out of everyone knew that fact all too well.

Maybe he'd lived too long. He was too jaded and only someone like Lloyd could truly fix the mistakes Kratos had allowed to spring forth. He was certain of it. The last great hope the worlds had of ever coming together in the end was Lloyd.

"Now that you are fully lucid, we will begin." Kratos shook himself out of his thoughts and faced Lloyd. "The first thing you need to work on is how to keep oneself aloft while stationary."

"Um... aren't I already doing that?" Lloyd dangled his legs back and forth for added effect.

"You are, but we aren't in the lower parts of the stratosphere, now are we?"

"If five inches off the ground isn't the stratosphere, then no."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Kratos pointed to a cloud that resembled a rabbit and flew upwards. Lloyd followed close behind, his wings fluttering like mad until they both reached the rabbit. Kratos stopped when he floated just underneath the underbelly, but Lloyd overshot his aim and went right through where the rabbit's eye would have been. He reemerged thirty seconds later, sopping wet and thoroughly annoyed.

"Y'know when people say that clouds are like big balls of cotton candy?" Lloyd grabbed a handful of hair and squeezed the water from it. "They lied."

"I'm sure whomever told you that wasn't speaking on literal terms, Lloyd." The seraphim sword master responded coolly. "While you're drying yourself off, attempt to adjust yourself in the air by moving up and down, side to side, but still while facing me."

"Why?"

"Evasion practice."

"Oh." Lloyd began shifting from left to right, diagonally, up and down and any combination of the two. Kratos smirked ever so slightly. In a way, it almost looked like someone was using him to mark an invisible cosmic word jumble.

"Good, very good." He said approvingly after ten minutes. "That should be enough. The next thing we are going to cover is moving forwards and backwards."

"Oh, so you mean actual flying and not me looking like someone's using my back to wash an invisible window?"

Kratos' eyes narrowed into slits.

"Lloyd, what did I say about being snippy?"

The brown haired boy peered sheepishly down at his shoes.

"... not to."

"Then you would do well to remember that." Kratos pointed to a small copse of trees right next to the neighboring cornfield. "What I want you to do is to fly out in that direction until you reach the edge of the cornfield, then turn and come back straight here. Do you think you can manage that?"

"What?" Lloyd looked positively affronted. "Of course I can do that. You just watch." Taking a deep breath, Lloyd swung around so he faced the cornfield and took off with unbridled gusto, his wings beating against his back at a rate Kratos hadn't thought possible. Kratos watched as Lloyd flew, albeit a bit crooked, towards the trees and reached the line between them and the cornfield.

"Now pivot your wings to an angle and make a turn!" The seraphim called out to Lloyd.

However, Lloyd didn't pivot his wings. He didn't pivot at all.

He just kept going.

And going.

And going.

In fact, he didn't look he was going to stop anytime soon. Kratos russet eyes widened.

"Lloyd, turn around! Come back!"

"I can't come back, I don't know how it works!" Lloyd shrieked back in a panic, his wings speeding up with each passing second. "Kratos, I can't stop! How do you brake these things?" In a moment of sheer hysteria, the bantam boy tried to use his own weight to counter the speed of the flight of hell, but all that did was flip him upside down and make the wings fly faster, which in turn caused him to let out a completely undignified wail.

Kratos suddenly felt a wave of depression sink in. There went the last great hope for the world, flying upside down out of control and screaming like a girl.

"Before I taught him how to go, I probably should have taught him how to stop. I'd better go catch him before he flies into a tree."

"Well, that was certainly an interesting first flight." Kratos commented as he touched down in the center of the deserted field, Lloyd tucked firmly under his arm. "As well as an interesting first landing." Lloyd pried himself from the seraphim's grip, landed on the ground and dusted himself off.

"If we'd been somewhere else, I woulda had a fine landing." Lloyd retorted bitterly, pulling out a cornhusk lodged in his chestnut tresses. "It's not my fault they put a cornfield in my way."

"Fine?" Kratos arched a sardonic eyebrow. "I had to pull you off of a scarecrow."

Lloyd glowered at the dirt. It had taken twenty minutes of searching, but Kratos managed to find his wayward charge's trail when Lloyd had flown out into the ether, completely unable to stop or turn or really do anything more than scream. However, that trail eventually led to a crop circle like pattern in the middle of a corn field with Lloyd in the center, hanging off a scarecrow. Well, that was only half accurate. Lloyd was hanging upside down from the scarecrow having gotten the seat of his pants snagged by the wooden stake propping up the scarecrow's arm.

Kratos probably would have been able to keep his wry amusement safely underground if Lloyd hadn't been flailing about like a beached flounder when he'd finally located him.

"I can't believe you laughed at me." The skinny swordsman muttered. "Out of all the times to prove you're not a robot, you chose that time of all times to laugh, and I mean really laugh. You couldn't breathe. I was upside down, having a really bad time of it and you laughed. Now I've got a hole in my pants and you almost split the seams in yours before you finally deigned to help me. I thought you were gonna leave me there forever."

The elder swordsman's eyebrows creased. There was a certain amount of truth in that he'd had found Lloyd's predicament facetious, but Lloyd was surely inflating the details. Kratos had laughed, but not to that agree and not nearly as long as Lloyd had described. Surely an overactive imagination was to blame in this instance. However, he didn't blame Lloyd for over exaggerating. It was, after all, his nature to do so, being both young and highly embarrassed an inanimate object such as a scarecrow had managed to best him while in flight.

"It wasn't that severe, Lloyd."

"Yeah, for most people. But you're not most people. You're Kratos. Mister 'I have no sense of humor and I like to stare blankly at people because I want to see if I can make their brains explode by just thinking about it', Kratos. You just don't DO that." Lloyd shifted his russet eyes towards Kratos' own pair. "It was like you broke or something."

Frowning, Kratos regarded Lloyd's fearsomely piercing, yet strangely unanimous stare.

"Am I really such a taciturn statue that you perceive me to be in need of repair when displaying any sort of emotion beyond irritated disdain?" The seraphim swordsman inquired.

"Yeah."

"... ah." Kratos' expression grew acerbated. "On that note, I believe your landing is in desperate need of perfecting, or rather, executing without attacking an innocent scarecrow in the process. Perhaps then it will be 'fine' as you so aptly put it."

"My landing was fine." said Lloyd. "It's just the braking I need. Other than that it was fine."

"You would really call your endeavors in the cornfield fine?"

The slender six year old shrugged.

"'Pends on what your definition of 'is' is."

Kratos restrained himself from sighing pedantically and rolling his eyes.

"Perception versus reality." He commented lightly, folding his arms against his chest. "Your perception, much like your landing, is skewed."

Kicking the dust again, Lloyd's expression grew sour and he looked away.

"Yeah, very funny." he muttered, "I bet your first flight was just perfect."

"Actually, no it wasn't."

Lloyd's head shot upwards, as did his eyebrows.

"It wasn't?" The skinny swordsman practically gaped at the elder seraph. "Why not? What happened?"

Biting back yet another sigh, Kratos gestured over to a space shaded by a few trees. If he was going to take a trip down memory lane, he might as well allow Lloyd a brief respite in the process.

"As I was a fully grown adult at the time I ascended, I had a difficult time balancing my own body weight on the seemingly fragile wings. Wings are a much different platform than the ground to keep one's 'footing', so to speak." He began, Lloyd hot on his heels. "Normally my balance is unmatched, but in a new environment such as the air, I could not rely on the balance usually employed by the legs. Flying is more of an abdominal balancing act, employing more of the torso and back as a stabilizer, unlike normally walking, running or shifting on the earth."

"You had a hard time balancing?" asked Lloyd, thoroughly amazed. "But you don't seem the type to not be able to balance."

"I rarely have difficulty when on the ground, even when on the ice, but as the air employed a different set of mechanisms, it took a while to really get the reigns of the subject matter. However, unlike you, I had no teacher or help of any kind. The most I had was Yuan and as you know, when it comes to actually being helpful, he is severely lacking."

"Yeah, that's true." The slight swordsman nodded. "He's four different kinds of unhelpful in a two pound bag. So, what happened? What went wrong?"

"During my first excursion into the air, I was caught up in a gust of wind and ended up flying backwards. By the time I managed to pivot myself so I was facing the direction I intended to fly, I was traveling a velocity at which I could no longer control my trajectory."

"... and?"

"I flew into the side of a windmill."

Lloyd let out a snort, then a snicker, and then fell onto the grass, laughing his little head off. Kratos' cheek twitched a little, but other than that he remained silent. There wasn't much he could say really. What he could do was wait it out until Lloyd's hysterics died down to the point he could breathe properly again before continuing.

"Who's the one laughing now?" Kratos raised an eyebrow, peering down his nose at the cackling rendition of what was left of his mentally seventeen, yet physically six year old son.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. But that's just... too funny." Lloyd managed through gasps as he pulled himself back up. "I pictured it in my head and it's comical to even imagine something like that happening to you. You always seem so perfect with everything you do."

"Why do you suppose I am telling you this, Lloyd?" The elder seraph picked Lloyd up by his collar and half carried, half dragged him over to the tree, where he was then unceremoniously dumped. "I am not disclosing this information solely because I enjoy being the brunt of a humorous anecdote. I am telling you this because you should know that no one starts off as an expert. Everyone begins as an amateur and must work at what they desire to come to fruition."

"So you think I could eventually get better at this whole flying thing?" Lloyd adjusted himself against the trunk of the tree and pulled a twig out from under his seat. "Cornfields included?"

"Yes. The only thing separating you and I is experience."

"And bigger wings."

"Yes, I suppose that does factor in somewhat." Kratos relented. "Still, work hard at what you wish and eventually it will come to pass. The dividing point of success and failure is between those who give up at the very beginning and those who discipline themselves to persevere."

"You mean people who are really stubborn?" Lloyd flashed him a wide toothy grin. "'Cause I've got that in spades."

"That much is obvious. However, stubbornness is only as good as the person who applies it. Perseverance in itself is simply applied stubbornness coupled with purpose."

"So if I keep at it, flying will get easier. Does that mean we're going to talk about how to stop when flying then?" The skinny boy asked hopefully. "I'd like to learn how to brake, if that's okay with you." Kratos smirked a tad, and looked back out onto the deserted arena that was the field.

"I suppose I have no other alternative. After all, there won't always be a scarecrow for you to cling."

Lloyd scowled.

"For the last time, I don't HAVE clearance." Regal repeated hotly at the receptionist behind the desk. "However, if you were to call George like I repeatedly suggested, perhaps we could sort this out-"

"Sorry, kid." The receptionist shook her head and pointed at the sign above her. "No clearance, no going up to the higher levels. That's the rules." Everyone groaned. For the past twenty minutes, they, or rather Regal and Raine, had been arduously attempting to get into the archive rooms of the Lezareno company in order to locate exactly where the zircon had been stored. Without it, the recipe for Colette's cure would be completely useless. However, at the rate things were heading, breaking in through the window would probably have been more time saving. Yes, it would technically be a felony, but at least it would be an efficient felony.

And efficiency was seriously lacking where they were.

"So you say. And just what blustering idiot came up with inane assortment of travesties that are passing as rules?" The petite president demanded tersely.

"That would be the president of the Lezareno company, Duke Regal Bryant."

Regal's eye twitched. From over his shoulder, Zelos snickered, snaked an arm around the collar of the petite president's suit coat of green crushed velvet and winked.

"The truth always hurts, doesn't it?"

Regal kicked him in the shins with his heel.

"It does now." Sheena grinned as Zelos rolled about on the floor, clutching his shins and squawking that he'd been maimed.

"Look, if all you're going to do is waste my time, why don't you go wait over there." The secretary pointed to a set of red sofas. "Maybe if you're lucky, the security will take you to the daycare center."

Thoroughly aggravated, Regal bristled at the suggestion and was about to say something particularly rude, but Raine yanked at his arm and pulled him away. The others followed, Sheena dragging Zelos by the back of his collar and they grudgingly headed for the seating area the secretary had suggested.

"When I am at my full size and age again, my first act is going to use my influence to outlaw bureaucracy." Regal muttered angrily once they were safely out of earshot from the help desk. "'Help desk'. Hah. A laudable title, my posterior."

"That's just the hormones talking." Sheena consoled, patting his shoulder. "Give it a minute, they'll cool down."

"Is that what this is?" He asked exhaustedly dropping into an armchair and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Normally something like that wouldn't have bothered me whatsoever, but as of late, I seem to be lacking in tolerance for utter stupidity."

"Yep, that's hormones." Genis nodded. "They kinda interfere with the logical workings of your brain and then before you know it, you'll start acting like Lloyd. If it gets really bad, you'll end up like him." He hooked a thumb at Zelos, who was still playacting on the floor like he was seconds away from death.

In truth, he might have been if the expression on the Professor's face was any indication of her intent.

"Perish the thought." Regal grimaced.

"Zelos' scene aside, how do you plan on getting us inside then, if the receptionist will not grant us access?" Raine carefully stepped over the twitching pile of Zelos on the floor and folded her arms. "I highly doubt we will be able to bribe her with the ice cream coupons the mascot at the front gate gave us."

"Yeah, that wouldn't work, I don't think." Genis added. "Besides, you said I could get an ice cream cone with those. You're not backing out now, Sis."

"You'll get your ice cream AFTER we retrieve the zircon. Anyway, we need a way to get in that doesn't involve going to the front desk. I am a bit surprised George did not leave you with a code clearance card, Regal."

"As am I." Regal replied with a sigh. "At one point, I believe he might have mentioned doing so, but if he had, or simply forgot to give me one, I do not know."

"I don't think you need to worry about that." said Zelos, still on the floor with his head flopped on an arm, and pointed at the elevator doors. "The man of the hour has arrived."

They all looked up. Exiting the doors, arms laden with paperwork and files, stood George. It took them all of three seconds to cross the room and by that point, George had already noticed the large circle of prepubescents surrounding him like he was the focus of a cult sacrifice.

"Master Regal. How nice for you to join us again." George greeted and set his various paperwork upon the receptionist's desk. "While I am indeed pleased to see you again, what has called you back to the Lezareno company so soon?"

"It's lovely to see you too, George." Regal replied, shooting the awestruck secretary a subtle glare. "And as for my return, I wish it was of a leisurely sort, but unfortunately that is not the case."

"Oh?" George blinked curiously. "Might I be of assistance?"

"Actually yes. Do you perchance remember when the last shipment of Zircon was dated?"

"Not off the top of my head, no. However, if we check the archive room, I am certain we will find out." George turned back to the elevator and gestured them to follow. Having wasted too much time as it was, they all trotted hurriedly in George's wake, Regal and the front and Zelos bringing up the rear. When the final occupant passed by the otherwise stunned receptionist, Zelos looked her way and flashed her a smug, wolfish grin.

"Burn."

"If what George's information is accurate, the zircon should be somewhere in this filing cabinet." Regal yanked open the drawer on the top of the filing cabinet while the other shorter members of the team pulled on the other drawers.

"Alright, I get that you have some of the zircon, sure." Zelos said after yanking his fingers out of the way just in time to barely miss being pinched by a wayward drawer. "But why a filing cabinet?"

"Normally samples of magical substances would be kept in a specialized facility designed to handle and control the environment to avoid accidents, but with Zircon, that is not necessary. Zircon is not that potent on its own. In fact, it is no more effective in a neutral setting than a common garden rock." The professor responded, rifling through a spare file, sighing and stuffing it back into its home. "And as zircon is a particularly memorable name, probably the archivist figured a filing cabinet would be easier to locate the sample in an alphabetized setting than in a large storehouse filled with identical boxes."

"But why bother keeping it?" Sheena asked. "I'm happy they did, for obvious reasons, but it's not like this sort of disease that Colette's got pops up every day. What would the Lezareno company need with keeping samples of all the stuff it's sold? That's borderline hoarding."

"There is a very fine line between hoarding and tax preparation." Regal replied. "Aha, here it is."

Reaching in a hand, the petite president retrieved the small disclike piece of Zircon and held it out for the others to see. Genis' eyes widened and he reached for it, but before he got a chance to lay a finger on it, the sample was gone.

"What the hell?" Zelos gaped. "Where'd it go? You didn't drop it, did you?"

"Of course not." Regal shook his head, equally perplexed. "You didn't see me do so, did you?"

"I didn't see anything, that's kinda the point-"

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Everyone wheeled around on the spot. On the far side of the room, Kuchinawa leaned up against the side of the wall, tossing the zircon up and down like a skipping stone.

"Kuchinawa!" Sheena gasped in utter perturbation. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." said Kuchinawa coolly, still lazily catching the zircon without looking at it. "Though, I must say, this is a new low for you, Sheena. Not only could you not control Volt, you decided to relive Mizuho's pain by adapting the look of the murderer of most of the clan. How fitting."

Sheena turned blotched scarlet and looked at her shoes.

"You can't talk to her like that!" Genis yelped angrily, his bracers snapping against his bony shoulders. "She didn't mean for it to happen, and it's not her fault she's like this right now."

"Oh, whose fault was it then?" Kuchinawa mocked in a singsong voice. "Was it the summon spirit? Or was it just being too weak? Take your pick."

"Are you still on about that?" Zelos demanded disbelievingly. "The whole 'oh my village was destroyed' crap you've been spouting since forever and a day ago? Get a new tune, because this one's getting real old, real fast."

"You DARE mock the massacre of Mizuho-"

"Yep, pretty much." The cherubim chosen shrugged, taking a few steps towards him. "'My life's unfair', 'my life sucks', 'it's your fault', blah, blah. That's all you ever say, when you really boil down to it. And yeah, it does suck. Life can suck pretty badly sometimes. And yeah, people died. It happened, the world gets it. But you're missing a pretty crucial point there. A pretty big one."

"She was seven years old, you prick. I seriously doubt you'd be able to do much more than wet yourself if you'd had to do something like that. If anyone's life sucked at that moment, it was hers and you can't possibly say you suffered the same amount she did. Yeah, you lost your parents, but you weren't there. I bet watching everyone you know die was a hell of a lot worse than just hearing about it later."

"Regardless, she was at fault, she couldn't control Volt and she couldn't do what her village needed of her."

"What part of 'she was seven' don't you get?" Genis added hotly, pointing his kendama at where Kuchinawa's nose probably was behind his mask. "That's a bit much for somebody who has barely mastered arithmetic, y'know. Now how about you hand over that thing you just took and we'll let you leave with all your body parts still attached. Or would you prefer I char them off?"

Kuchinawa laughed at the meager threat and glanced down at the zircon.

"Oh, you want this, do you?" He mused offhandedly. "Well, if it's so important to you, maybe I'll just smash it-"

"No!" Sheena yelled in a panic, having finally shaken herself out of her memory induced stupor. "We need that!"

"If you have any sense of decency, you'll hand that over." The professor pointed to the zircon. "If not, an innocent victim's life will be forfeit."

"I don't see how that's my problem." shrugged Kuchinawa.

"Have you no honor? No sense of empathy?" Regal interjected in utter repulsion. "No desire to better yourself through acts of charity towards an unwell victim of circumstance?"

"No."

"You heartless-" Genis brandished his kendama and made to step forward, but a hand caught his shoulder and held him back. His eyes whipped around angrily towards the source of the hand, but he paused when he noticed it had been Zelos who had stopped him.

"If that's the way you wanna play it, fine." He murmured in a low voice, one not suited for someone who looked as young as he did at that precise moment. "We tried asking nicely, but if you wanna be the jerk in all of this, I suppose we'll just have to resort to plan B."

With nary a warning, Zelos launched himself at the ninja like a pouncing panther, grabbed onto his middle and latched his fingers into whatever he could reach.

"What the hell are you doing, you little runt!" Kuchinawa yelled as Zelos swung about on his middle, all the while clawing and trying to bring the elder male down. He scraped and dug and scratched, all the while trying to get to the Zircon gripped in his fist.

Genis stared. So did the Professor, Regal, Presea and Sheena. Zelos had just attacked Kuchinawa and for all sakes and purposes, he was winning.

"Well, what are you all waiting for, an invitation?" The clinging chosen demanded at his friends in the middle of his grappling, "Help me already!"

"I suggest we attack." Presea dropped her axe to the ground and she, along with the remaining five, dashed forward and leapt into the proverbial fray. Some, like the Professor and Regal, opted to stay low to the ground and attack the shins, but others, like Presea, Genis, Sheena and for the most part, Zelos climbed all over Kuchinawa like angry spiders, pinching and kicking all the way. Kuchinawa screamed and swore, trying to pull off the cluster of attacking children, but every single time he managed to pry one off his person, another latched on with unmitigated fervor.

From a distance, he looked like a kid coatrack.

"I can't get the zircon away from him!" Genis grabbed at the hunk of zircon still embedded within the ninja's grip, but couldn't manage to get the darned thing loose, no matter what he tried.

"Hang on a minute!" Zelos grabbed hold of Kuchinawa's flailing arm and sank his fangs right into the fabric coated flesh. Kuchinawa let out a bloodcurdling scream, but that stunned him just long enough for Genis to pry the zircon from his fingers.

"I've got it!" The minuscule mage beamed, tucking it into his trouser pocket. A glorious cheer erupted from the others, but they didn't stop their attack just yet. There was still Kuchinawa to deal with and from the looks of things, he was VERY unhappy.

"We've no choice other than to dispose of him." Presea commented, barely missing a swipe at her pigtails as she climbed over Kuchinawa's shoulders and boxed his ears.

"You are NOT committing a murder in my storage room." Regal admonished tersely, landing a hit right near the ribs. "I just had the carpets cleaned."

Shrugging, Presea whacked Kuchinawa on the back of his head with her fist, finally rendering him unconscious. Once the lifeless form of Kuchinawa hit the floor with a flump, his attackers removed themselves from the fray and observed the damage in a sort of adrenaline induced silence.

"Well... that went well." Zelos commented amusedly after a minute, sporting a black eye, but looking rather pleased with himself all the same.

"Not really, but I gotta say, that was really, REALLY satisfying." Genis sniffed, his nose bloody. "I've been wanting to do that for ages."

"I agree." The Professor nodded. "However, now that we have him, what do we do with him?"

"Is skinning him an option?" Genis asked hopefully.

"No."

"... darn."

"Would that be appropriate?" Presea pointed to an old utilities closet. "That would be a sufficient space to store his lifeless body." While from a distance the cupboard had looked just a mite too cramped at first, with some shoving and a dislocation here and there, they managed to stuff Kuchinawa into the closet and shut the door, locking it from the outside.

"... I can't believe we just locked Kuchinawa in a closet. He's the master of deception and we just locked him in a closet." Sheena commented numbly, jiggling the handle and peering into the lock to make absolutely sure the lock had latched.

"Yeah, well now he's master of the closet." Zelos snaked an arm around her shoulders and forcibly steered the acute assassin away from the door. "Don't worry it about it, griddle cakes. He'll be fine. Somebody'll find him. Eventually."

"You think so?" Sheena looked at the closet nervously. The chosen casanova to be heaved a sigh. She'd been so rattled by what Kuchinawa said, she hadn't even grasped that he'd called her another euphemism for being flat chested. A true waste of his talents, surely.

"What's with the grim look? Of course I'm sure." He replied cheerily. "Right, guys?" The second grade swordsman cast a hinting look at the rest of his compatriots.

"Statistically speaking, there is a high probability his presence will be revealed." Presea stated, gently patting Sheena's shoulder. "You need not fret."

"That.. doesn't really make me feel better, but thanks for trying, Presea."

"You are welcome."

"Presea's right. Of course he will be found, there's tons of people working around here." Genis piped in right behind her. "Now whether or not he'll be found alive-"

"Genis, how about we get you that ice cream now."

"But sis, I didn't-"

"NOW, Genis." Raine grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and frogmarched him towards the door.

"I wouldn't let what either of them said bother you, Sheena." Regal folded his arms as he watched the Professor pry Genis' fingers from the doorframe. "This room is cleaned from top to bottom every monday as per protocol. You needn't concern yourself."

"... okay." Sheena nodded, though she didn't look very convinced and shook Zelos' arm off her shoulder. "If that's right then... alright. Good then." Letting out a shallow exhale of breath, she trodded over to the door, and left the archive room. Presea checked the lock on the door in a silentious fashion, picked up her discarded axe and left as well, humming a little tune under her breath, which left Zelos and Regal as the sole remaining occupants.

"Man, that guy really got to her, didn't he?" The younger of the two whistled.

"Are you that surprised?" The petite President inquired. "Obviously her history concerning Kuchinawa and her village has ingrained a deep sense of guilt and regret that should not be contained within one so young."

"Yeah, I guess." Zelos shrugged, but as he did, a thought sprang into his head.

"Hey... hey Regal."

"Hm?"

"You said that this room is cleaned Monday, right?"

"I did."

"What day is it now?"

Regal smirked.

"Thursday."

Woo, finally done. Also, just a heads up, the final episode of the ToS animation has been dated at coming out October 24th, 2012, so keep an eye out. Anyway, please review and keep those fingers crossed for oyako!