Outside was unlike the world of his own; it held in its almost picture perfect painting a depiction of serene tranquility. For outside, on the other side of the frosted windowpane, snowfall, perfect in white, continued to fall languidly across the Russian city. Thickly and slowly, the tiny snowflakes covered the streets in an undisturbed blanket of white. The sky continuing to let fall the tiny untainted ice crystals as they danced to a song all of there own.
It was almost like a scene from a story book, beautifully depicted. Peaceful and serene.
However, looking in from the snow world of white, chaos ensued.
... Unbroken ...
With the last remaining night they had in Russia, the Russian tournament bladers gathered together for a final goodbye in the all to small hotel room of the Bladebrakers. Of the teams attending, the Blitzkrieg boys were all that remained this late in the evening. Due in part to the fact that their own rooms were in the same hotel, two floors down.
In the small living room, Yuriy and Boris sat quietly bickering back and forth with each other, their infatuation with each other momentarily forgotten in the balance of Sergei and Takao's all out verbal brawl. Takao, ever quick to anger, was the even quicker to try his luck with a few good swings, though they were easily pushed aside, and only furthered his anger and their amusement.
In the connecting kitchen, Max, Kyouju and Hiromi ate quietly the remaining slices of cake, debating everything from statistics and strategies to the preliminary round rookies earlier in the tournament. And in the middle of all this, Kai sat quietly in the middle of the living room conversation. His remarks were limited, few and far between to the scene before him.
Outside it all, Rei sat. His attention was not with the people around him, but with the scene outside the window. His gaze focused solely on the small white flakes that fell just beyond the windowpane. His thoughts were not upon their recent victory, or of battle strategies. His thoughts were elsewhere, contemplating.
He took no notice of his surroundings.
He took no notice to the flame like crimson gaze upon him, questioning.
Hazily, he droned out the conversations around him. They were distant in his mind as he fought to control the chaos within himself. Despite this, a small part of him found himself paying attention to details he needed to know.
"Flight to Japan … Nine thirty… With Chief and Hiromi."
"Kai… staying a bit longer."
"Leaving for America … Mom… Nine-fifty… tomorrow morning."
"Kai not seeing us off."
Because he wouldn't return.
He bit his lip in contemplation; he couldn't return there. He wouldn't.
Despite his love for them, their ways were no longer his. They threatened everything he'd fought to build for himself.
They threatened him.
No, he could no longer return.
Because he was no longer welcome.
Returning to Japan wasn't an option. While the plane flight and fair was already booked and paid for, his return to Japan would be one of the first places the look. If they looked.
He shook himself mentally. He wouldn't think about that now. He wouldn't let himself. It was only a matter now of leaving undetected. Because they would never give up, he'd just have to disappear until he understood what he should do.
It made it easier without Kai to see them off and the deflected questions of his return to the White Tigers.
And as such, at 9:30, Takao, Hiromi, and Kyouju boarded flight fifty-seven to Japan on time, and without delay. At 10:20, Max's America bound flight took off after an unexpected twenty-minute delay. The delay taking an additional ten minutes after boarding before finally taking off.
The lie had been his returning flight to China, an hour and a half after Max's American flight; it was foolproof. All he had to do was leave unnoticed by the familiar faces and teams, which was easy enough, many of the returning teams had earlier flights. It was the known Russians he had to avoid.
Retracing his steps with a practiced familiarity, he made his way back through the airport, solemnly. Eyes downcast.
He'd drone out the early morning chatter surrounding him, the announcements made overhead every five minutes, and the pointed stares from blading fans to afraid to approach. He continued retracing his steps, without the need to completely watch his surroundings as he walked on. It was when the glass doors finally came upon him he stopped in his tracks.
Beyond the sliding glass doors, outside, the snow continued to fall gently upon Russia; peacefully. Unlike inside, where chaos overwhelmed.
Emotions surged like waves, ripping the calm surface. How had it become like this?
It hurt so much.
Why was it that it hurt so much? He didn't understand, why did it hurt so much to love someone? Why was it so wrong?
Questions consumed him as he stepped forward, the glass doors sliding to open at his movements. Pulling his jacket tighter against him in an effort to fight off the foreboding cold, he stepped out onto the snowy. He clutched tightly to the strap of the duffle bag over his shoulder, lifting it slightly to redistribute its weight as he walked the empty street.
He didn't understand.
The slow crunch of snow under tires behind him did nothing to catch his attention. The soft hum of the engine unnoticed, so deep in his thoughts was he. Unhurried, he walked down the dark sidewalk with no particular destination in mind.
He didn't know where exactly it was that he was going, only that he'd figure it out when he got there. A hotel for the night maybe, a bus fair in the morning.
A town where no one would notice him.
Where no one would question.
He paused, the slow crunch of snow finally catching his attention, the soft hum of the engine behind him suddenly noticed. He froze, stiffening, his fists clenching in reflex at his side.
Tentatively, he took a step forward; the snow crunching behind him as the driver of the black limousine pulled forward and came to a stop with the rear passenger side door to him.
His breath came out in warm white wisps before him as he waited, the black window slowly rolling down to reveal the occupant within.
"Get in the car, Rei."
Rei's breathing hitched, Kai's voice freezing him.
How?
He didn't turn to face him, or acknowledge his presence.
Why? Was it really that wrong?
He took a tentative step away, keeping to his allotted path, "Rei."
Was it really that wrong? Why did it hurt so much? What made it so wrong? Why wouldn't it stop!
"Stop." The voice was almost a pleaded command, but Kai would never plead, he told himself. But there was something in that voice that made him do just that, and he stopped.
Why did it hurt? It hurt so much.
To never be able to tell, to be scorned by those who knew.
Why? Was it really so wrong to love, him?
"Rei…"
The car door opened quietly, footsteps carried by the crunching of freshly fallen snow. When they stopped, a gentle hand fell upon his shoulder, asking him to turn.
Was it really so wrong, Kai?
With pained eyes he slowly turned, daring to chance a glance into crimson eyes before falling to the tainted white snow at his feet.
But it was enough to see the sliver of carefully hidden concern beneath slate colored bangs.
Why did it hurt so much?
Sorrowful eyes closed, breathing out a staggering breath with an uncertain step forward to.
The car ride itself was considerably quieter than he expected it to be. There was no narrowed gaze, no angry voice that berated him with questions, demanding answers. Kai himself spent most of it on a mobile phone he produced from his pocket. His language kept to a brisk Russian during many of the calls, occasionally shifting to a brief English and even briefer Japanese.
Although Rei didn't understand much of what Kai spoke, in Russian, his voice was strangely soothing. His thoughts were strangely calm as well within his presence, and a calm he hadn't felt in weeks fell over him. His sleep starved body lulled to a much-needed sleep by the native Russians tongue.
Kai pulled his wrist forward, glancing to the watches held time. It was the soft warm thump that fell across his shoulder that startled him, as the raven-haired neko-jin's head fell against him in sleep.
A soft smile crossed his lips as he paused in his speech. Carefully, he brought up a hand, softly brushing away raven locks obscuring his view.
"We have arrived Sir."