djtenku | [writing] Project Chaos

Title: Warrior
Word Count: 2733
Summary: Rematch. Mind games. Victory, at a price.
Author's Note:

This chapter, to me... well, it took me half a day to write; a record that I'm sure I'll never break again. This fight is totally different from Zero's fight(s). The difference is that in Zero, there was emotion and animosity at work. This? Well, I'm not gonna comment.

It wasn’t until five minutes later that Kento regained some type of awareness, and a few more to recognize what the hell happened. He stared at Chaos, or what was left of it anyway with a bleary eye. His right didn’t open at all, and he felt a thin streak of something running down it from another cut above his brow. He flinched, and every cut contracted in response all at once, and he could only grit his teeth.

Carefully, he stood up and surveyed the damage, and moved to where he had hid Shin, passing by the warped head of Chaos. He paused momentarily. There’s no way in Hell that- Kento squinted his eye and saw a dark form walking towards him, with a smile. The form didn’t look scathed, as if some ungodly thing protected it all this time.

“Ah, I knew you weren’t dead,” said Lang, after laughing. It was an ugly sound. “But you shouldn’t sleep on the job. That’s dangerous, is it not?”

Kento noticed his dark eyes were incredibly uneven in the light. He smiled a little. “What did you expect?” he asked equally. As quick as he smiled, it dropped into a snarl. “Let’s finish what we started.”

Xiong Lang sighed, placing a hand over his face. “I can see why young people die; not enough patience to fill up a cup. However,” he pointed up towards the bowing ceiling, “time’s not on our side, so I’ll forgive that. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt – ’’

Lang’s head snapped to the side as Kento’s fist connected, producing a hollow, short sound. It was a moment before either moved again.

“I guess that was it, huh?” Kento asked in mock innocence.

Lang thumbed away the thin trail of blood from his nose, and seemed to sigh. “I guess I deserved that,” he said quietly. His eyes suddenly caught light of the fire, and for a moment, showed insanity. Without warning, he took two thunderous steps forward and head butted Kento directly on his nose, hearing a small snap, and drove his left fist in a near uppercut, aiming for his jaw.

Kento managed to move back in time and momentarily recovered, wiping away the blood. He didn’t see the other fist from the right, and it crashed into his side, twisting right on the still fresh wound. An elbow smashed in somewhere, and he nearly collapsed, coughing violently. He glanced up in time to see a falling heel and crossed his arms over his head too late, and the heel caught his left shoulder.

Lang backed off to admire his work, and chuckled as he did so. It only took a mere twenty seconds. “Get up,” he goaded, planting a boot on Kento’s injured shoulder. Kento swatted it away and rose unsteadily, readjusting his arm, undaunted.

Lang moved to the right again and smiled as his trap was set; he brought back his fist before it even met his target and switched to his left leg for a roundhouse kick. Kento caught his leg completely and stepped back as Lang attempted to strike again with a free-legged back flip. He watched in amusement as he released his leg in time and allowed Lang to simply crash onto the ground.

The Tiger Wolf sprang back immediately and caught Kento by surprise with a straight jab at his sternum and delivered another sharp kick that felled him and slide away from him. Lang snorted and reached into his pocket, donning the spiked knuckles again. “You’re starting to disappoint me,” he said tiredly, “no; you’re starting to bore me! What, you have no motivation?”

Kento rose again, catching sight of the light that surrounded Lang’s hands. “I do now,” he retorted. Straight offense was certainly out of the question now. There was another glint and he saw loose pieces jutting from the wreckage that could be of use. That is, he got past Lang. Slowly, he began circling him in a wide arch.

“No, you don’t,” Lang said. “Have you asked yourself what your purpose in doing this?”

“What?” Kento asked, laughing slightly in disbelief. “Have you?”

“Of course; I did this because I wanted to, to see if I can. And, I have.”

“I know my purpose – ”

“We’ve been over that,” Lang said tiredly again. “You’ve succeeded, all but one thing.” He pointed to the grey and white bandanna that was still around his bicep. “To protect that woman of yours.”

Kento narrowed his eye at Lang, still continuing his arch.

“She might be dead as we speak,” Lang continued nonchalantly, “and you weren’t there to even save her. What’s the matter; you’re not talking anymore?”

“She’s not,” Kento answered back.

“If you don’t hurry up, she will.” Lang smiled to himself. “You’ve also failed something else. Do you know the reason why you’re fighting me?” Silence. “I certainly know mine; it’s to survive the outcome. I saw that look of yours before; you keep denying that you like fighting, but it’s there.” More silence. His plan was working. “I was that way when I was your age.”

My age? Kento echoed silently. Just how old is he?

“I didn’t deny it; I relished it. It feels like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, so to speak. That certain rush when you’re on the verge of death and anything goes.”

“You don’t have a conscience,” Kento stated flatly, still trying to decipher the Wolf’s words.

“It still exists; I let you live, didn’t I? The point is, that you like to fight for no reason at all, or at the vaguest reason, no questions asked. You don’t give it a second thought,” Lang continued, looking idly at his hand. “It only gives you the opportunity to fight. But yet, you never seem to detach yourself from earthly possessions and morals. It’s the only way to succeed.”

Kento thought back to when he had finished off Taka and a realization dawned on him. He shook his head. “That’s what makes us human,” he finally said.

Lang heard the doubtful reply and laughed. “Exactly! But I’m not human. The way I see it, is that humans don’t kill, while animals do. And, if I’m not mistaken, that is the only difference between us.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to you!” Kento roared.

“Ah, so you have killed then!” Xiong Lang exclaimed in enlightenment. “You had no conscience, you enjoyed it! Ha, I knew it! Don’t deny it!” The hangar fell silent except the crackling of the fire. Lang glanced over his shoulder in elation. He was vulnerable more than ever.

Kento stopped short of grabbing the pole jutting out of the metal heap. He never gave it thought. It was instinct all this time, but to like it? Images started to flash in his murky mind, and became more disturbed by it by the second. His instinct took over as he saw a small shadow develop in front of him, and saw Lang in the air, seemingly there for a long time.

Lang was caught off-guard as Kento sidestepped the flying kick completely and lifted the pole in a smooth motion. The Wolf landed, going into a defensive stance, smiling. “So, I suppose you’re going to answer?”

Kento twirled the heavy pole in his hand before snapping it in front of him. There was a look of madness in his eye before it disappeared into nothingness. “I guess I have to give into the Devil this time,” he said resignedly. Neither man said anything afterwards as they circled each other, calculating how to maim the other. Lang flinched and growled, and laughed ugly as Kento reacted to it.

Still all talk and no game, he thought, greatly amused. However, there was a different aura about him –

Instinct took over and he arched his back, watching the heavy pole sail over him and felt the sharp wind a second later. Lang stumbled backwards and watched the object circle back again, low. He grinned at the predictable move and jumped towards Kento.

Kento took a step back and lifted the pole slightly; the end of the pole connected with Lang’s side and sent him flying. He landed awkwardly on his back, stunned that it even happened. Worst, he might have broken a rib. He glanced up and saw that Kento was gone, until he heard a roar from above. Lang rolled clear at the last moment, feeling the shock wave of metal slammed against one another, and the sound reverberated, singing a low note.

Lang knew that something like that stunned Kento as he rose, and lunged for him again with a straight jab, making sure that he wasn’t going to miss his target. He was a fraction slower; Kento used his free hand and delivered a palm strike, and knocked away the incoming fist, and swayed as Lang did a follow-up. How did he get so damn fast? Lang wondered.

Lang avoided another abrupt pole strike, ducking under a thrust and lunged again. This time, the spikes found a soft target and Kento bellowed a curse as he stepped back, feeling blood seeping through the underlying bandages. Lang smiled, and moved again, easily sidestepping a swipe that passed over his shoulder and caught the pole underhanded, and pulled him in. Kento moved his head in time to avoid the spikes, and they brushed his arm instead, taking much of the sleeve with it. He blocked a hook with his forearm and felt the sharp bite of the spikes again before shoving away Lang.

Both looked up as the ceiling seemed to shift, and more debris fell from the ceiling, producing hollow notes. Kento was the first to look away, and raised the pole and brought it down directly on Lang; the Wolf started to move back, moving his shoulders. Lang watched as the tip of it met his right shoulder and knocked him down to his knees. He howled, clutching the dislocated joint. He glanced down and saw that his arm hung lamely before being knocked down again.

Kento pressed his boot firmly against his chest and prepared to strike again, and Lang saw a devilish glint in the solitary azure eye and even a small smile. Lang took hold of his foot and pushed him off with his good hand, and rose unsteadily. He began to laugh. “I saw that look,” he said. “Why did you hesitate? You could’ve finished me off.”

“I didn’t. I chose not to,” Kento answered in between gasps. He watched in amazement as Lang reset his shoulder with a simple tug. Lang flexed it and rolled his neck, popping delicate bones. If nothing else, they provided relief.

“Still denying, I see,” he said, carefully peeling off the spiked knuckles. They clattered on the ground like weights. “I’ll give you credit for injuring me; maybe it was wrong of me to underestimate you.”

Kento raised an eyebrow and discarded the pole. “You sound if I did you a favor.”

Lang laughed. “Yes, of course. This warm-up didn’t go to waste after all.” He motioned around him. “The audience demands us to fight. They want a show; a real one at that.”

He was toying with me this whole time? Kento gritted his teeth.

“We only have a few minutes left before this ceiling comes down. Let’s say we finish this?” Xiong Lang asked.

“Let’s,” answered Kento Jin-Rei Fan.

He wasn’t prepared for a charging tackle that took him off his feet, knocking what little wind he had left. His arms took the brunt of the damage Lang dealt, fists raining down on him until after a slight pause; he struck Lang, digging a knuckle into a dark eye and rolled clear after flipping him off completely.

Lang’s heel nearly caught him in the temple as rose, and retaliated with a swift roundhouse, but only connected with the Wolf’s hand. Lang twisted his ankle and let him spiral towards the steel ground; he staggered back as a foot struck his head.

Kento immediately sprang up and moved in again, striking with a hook to Lang’s exposed side and followed up with a descending palm strike. Lang’s arm suddenly shot up and his hand clasped around his neck, squeezing it tightly before gravity and Lang took over, slamming Kento back first into the steel floor. The explosion of pain was enough to paralyze him as his wounded back fired its nerves all at once.

He uttered a curse as Lang reappeared, one-eyed and a smile that of a madman on his dark face. Kento gave out an inhuman roar as Lang’s boot connected with his bruised ribs, hearing something pop each time. Lang dropped back after the sixth kick, laughing maniacally.

“Is that the best you can do?” he taunted, throwing his head back.

Kento rolled over and coughed violently, blinking away the stars that danced around his blurred vision. He wiped away the blood from his lips and struggled to rise, losing his balance so often. He saw the smirk on Lang’s face and did so himself as the Wolf moved towards him with a high kick. He simply swayed, feeling the violent wind after it and punched Lang with a simple backfist in an off-balanced manner, striking his side again.

He beckoned the Wolf with an open hand, still moving back and forth with a confused look. Kento watched the smug look melt away into anger and smiled inwardly. He swayed, taking a step back as Lang assaulted, and struck occasionally, upsetting him even more until he saw his opening.

Kento deflected the incoming jab and reversed his backfist, throwing Lang off-balance and delivered a sharp uppercut that nearly lifted Lang off his feet. Immediately, Kento pulled him down by his shoulders; his knee met with his chest repeatedly, striking the solar plexus before throwing Lang aside.

The Wolf collapsed onto his knees and bent over, coughing and gasping. How could this even happen? And with no mercy, Lang added darkly, rising.

They began again, but this time neither man cared for defense, or their injuries anymore. Every strike and kick would cancel itself out as the matched perfectly. Exhaustion came eventually; they had matched each other speed and intensity and strength. It finally came down to will.

Lang sidestepped a front kick and moved behind him, his arms clasping around his waist and drew back, lifting Kento backwards. Kento botched the suplex with a jab to Lang’s head and sent him flying, but still landed shoulder first, crashing back into the ground awkwardly. Lang, with a triumphant howl, raced towards the nonreactive Kento, knowing the next strike will put him out for good.

Kento watched with a glazed eye, seeing only the shape of the massive Wolf coming toward him in slow motion.

As if a switch turned on, Kento lurched forward, sticking out his good leg and grabbed Lang’s free arm and allowed the momentum to take over, and guided him over his body. Lang bellowed a curse as he was hurled backwards, and landed with a sickening thud.

It took a full second for Lang to realize that not only he was paralyzed, but several shrapnel points were jutting out from under him and through his body. Blood started to pool out of his mouth. Kento’s eye widened at the sight, and his expression betrayed his thoughts. He approached him cautiously, but his reason knew that he was good as dead. He was shocked when Lang looked up at him.

“I know you’re…not expecting me… to make some long-winded… bullshit about nothing,” Lang said quietly, the light fading from his dark eye fading away rapidly. He motioned his head to the bandanna tied around his arm. “Take it.”

Kento was hesitant to, but did anyway. It was more tattered than before, and worse, soaked in blood. He turned away and started to go, until he heard a deep chuckle.

“I g-guess… there is a differen-ce bet-tween us,” Lang said darkly, “but, i-it’s only a very thin l-line.”

The cold, numb feeling returned as Kento glanced back over his shoulder. Even though Lang was dead, his eyes were open, staring back at him. For a moment, Kento stared into the depths of infinite darkness, and shuddered as he tore his gaze away, never to look at it again.