twenty [action]

[imatreenow]

[Almost a week ago Mithos had returned from a mission, the first he'd ever volunteered for. It may have seemed a strange choice for someone who trusted no one, who loathed being a pawn for others, to submit himself as a lab rat for combat testing, but his choices are narrowing around him. There is something he is after. Something he can finally close his fingers around, after watching it all scream past him for so long. If he is going to be used by the Malnosso regardless of his choices, it is better that he gains something from it - which he'd had to remind himself many times to dampen the sour taste sitting in the back of his throat.

Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.

Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]

Comments

[shiningbinds]

I merely came here to train. [Which is the truth. However, he has been attempting to keep an eye on Mithos more often lately. Ever since that morning he discovered Mithos was no longer his student once more, actually. But that's not why he's here now, surprisingly enough.] Though it appears you had a similar idea.

[imatreenow]

Find somewhere else. [Never mind that Kratos had said he was leaving - an extra push doesn't hurt. He still hasn't lowered his weapon. His face twists in disgust, and finally he has to ask.]

Where is that noise coming from? [Spoken as if it is definitely Kratos's fault.]

[shiningbinds]

That would what I'm attempting to do at the moment.

[He tries leaving again, as he still would like to avoid explaining any of the business with the music to Mithos.]

[imatreenow]

Answer my question, Kratos. [He only half cares about the answer, but it's the principle of the matter, and his annoyance drives him to pettiness. The miserable traitor is allowed to leave only when he answers to him.]

[shiningbinds]

[The music is a source of embarrassment as it is, so he's still walking away. If you wish to know so badly, Mithos... well, you may have to resort to force. Look at that inviting back.]

[imatreenow]

[His eyes narrow and his lip curls in disgust. He could make his training routine more interesting. He could easily launch himself forward and slash Kratos across the back, blade honing in on his wings, before the man takes another step. For old times sake.

He stays where he is, knife brandished but still.

Kratos would counter him easily. He can already see where the battle would lead, blow for blow, and while the outcome can't be certain, he can guess: his knife, Kaori's knife, confiscated, his actions reported to Raine.]

Fine, run away like you always do.

[shiningbinds]

[Well, at least Mithos makes up for not literally stabbing him in the back with his words. Kratos definitely felt that jab on a different level, tensing up.]

...the "noise" is none of your concern.

[Speaking of which, it's getting louder again.]

[imatreenow]

I don't care anyway. [The retort of a child, disguised as something steel-sharp and diamond-hard.]

[shiningbinds]

Then you needn't ask. [Kratos sees the childish retort and raises Mithos some logic--a fruitless move if there ever were one.]