Literate All Boys School For The Gifted (Shounen-Ai)

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi looked up, his face a mere foot away from his mentors, silvery eyes peering over the top of his glasses and through the pale tendrils of hair that fell in his face. He stared at Karle a moment.

"You avoided the question. How did you get the scar?"

Kiyoshi was rarely curious, and when he was, he forged ahead until the curiosity was satisfied. It wasn't satisfied yet.

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle gave him a long thoughtful look, strongly considering telling him...

"Another day lad. I'll show ye. I can't right now," the Sorcerer said at last, looking rather resigned. "Ye need to listen to me when I say summat is dangerous though. Don't play sillybuggers with this."

No you stupid git, 'cuz you drained yourself with that lesson, Calcifer hissed inside his head, and for an instant the silver ring with an onyx stone caught the florescent lights rather strangely.

It was hard to tell at a distance, but up close Karle's face looked very tired, almost drained.

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi watched Karle for a moment, broodingly, noticing the drawn look on his face. He felt a flash of something akin to magic, but disregarded it.

"It's draining, isn't it? The magic..."

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle shook his head. "Nah, magic is drainin' fer any sorcerer. S'other stuff. Anyway, ye wanna learn 'is language or hear 'bout a ruddy sorcerer's 'eart troubles?"

He seemed to regain some of his charisma, althought the touch on his chest had elicited an unwarrented feeling of discomfort. He didn't know what, and he had little intention to find out.

[Nitrogen51]

Sitting on the roof was one of Ketaro's favorite pastimes. So thats where he was. Just sitting there, listening to music. Music was the best thing, next to screwdrivers and other boys. Dang it! He had to think about that. He decided to go get something to drink, so he went to his dorm and spent quite a while in there.

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi noticed the look of discomfort that passed across Karle's face, and, curiosity still reigning, pressed his fingertips a bit harder against the shirts fabric. He was interested in this man, in his dangerous language and in the secrets Kiyoshi knew he held. He felt no pang of loathing, no hate for the curiosity or interest; that encouraged him.

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle gave an unexpected wince, gripping Kiyoshi by the wrist.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The way his eyes narrowed and flickered briefly from orange to deep cyanne and back to violet again when the hand was pulled away was a most dangerous of warning looks. It wasn't the glare he'd give a noisy class to shut up. It was a look that spoke that that was a sensitive spot, and not to be prodded.

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi was fascinated by Karle's reaction.His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he canted his head in a nearly child-like manner. He stretched his hand and wind gathered around his palm. Slowly, gently, the thin strands moved forward until they pressed very lightly against the fabric above the scar.

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle clasped Kiyoshi's wrist in his hand once more, redirecting the wind from the scar.

"Iff'n ye really wanna know, I took me own 'eart out o' me chest. Now quit pesterin' it. Thing took damn near century to heal right."

Resting Kiyoshi's hand once again on the desk, Karle sat back. He had missed out on the important details as to why, and how, and what he was doing still alive. But he had told Kiyoshi the cause of it.

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi stared at him, eyes wider than he normally would have allowed. Then, he furrowed his brow, knowing he hadn't been told all of the details. Snorting softly, he withdrew his hand.

"It doesn't seem to have healed properly at all."

He blinked. Century? Confusion flitted across his face. Was this man like him? Kiyoshi had said 'a few years' in jest, believing himself to be far older. Instead, perhaps this man truly was his elder.

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle gave him a rather grumpy look, folding his arms over his chest.

"It'll ne'er 'eal properly lad. 'Cuz o' the writin' I used. I'm stuck with a chronic 'eart conditon fer the rest o' me damn life. Now, ye 'ave any questions about the lesson afore we move on? An' NOT about me damned scar."

He was looking like his usual foul tempered self, glaring sourly at his student. But for a moment there, there had been something else...

[BadLuckShui]

A small smile stretched Kiyoshi's lips, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth, and catching him quite off-guard. His body ignored the shock that his mind radiated.

"How did you get it? And, if you tore out your own heart, why are you still alive?"

He canted his head further, silvery tendrils of hair falling across one side of his face.

"Finally, if it took you a century to heal, how old are you?"

[Karle the Sorcerer]

"Look lad, what 'appened was very complicated. It wunnit jus' alakazam, me heart's outta me chest. I 'ad to acchually pull it out. It 'urt. It still 'urts. I'm still alive from what 'appened to attach 'emselves to me. Ruddy parasites."

"We are not!" Angelika huffed indignantly. "Well, maybe Cal."

"Oh hush ye great feathered killjoy..." the fire demon muttered. Karle made very sure to ignore them.

Sitting back in his chair, he puffed on the pipe again. As for how old he was? Well, that was a bit of an innocent question.

"As fer 'ow ol' I am, I'm seven-'undred." He paused, muttering to the side "An' two..."

[BadLuckShui]

Kiyoshi thought a moment, putting a crooked finger to his lips. Finally, with a shake of his head, he came to a conclusion.

"Seven hundered and two...a few centuries older than myself, at most."

His mind froze, this time cowing his body into obedience. He swallowed, hard. How long had it been since he'd told anyone something that intimate? A derisive voice piped up from the back of his mind.

Have you forgotten so quickly? It was nearly a century ago that you revealed similar information... A snapshot flashed in his head. Dark hair, careless grin, tan skin. Another followed. Gold eyes, quirked brow, lazy grin. Another. Connected palms, fingers splayed, soft smile. It was a mistake then...is it now?

Kiyoshi stared intently at the book in his lap, following the curves of his writing. His jaw was clenched, beginning to hurt. One hand slowly curled until the nails bit into his palm. He closed his eyes.

[Karle the Sorcerer]

Karle shrugged. "I'm pretty young by comparison to mos' sorcerers o' me level. Me mam is bloody ancient. Ch. Ol' bag..." He mused rather fondly. He hadn't been home in a while...

And then he saw Kiyoshi's expression, his own one of concern. It was the same expression he saw when the young man had seen Machiavelli weeping to his God.

One cautious hand reached out, steadying his shoulder.

"So ye'd be what? Four an' half centuries, give or take a few decades?"

He tried the diversion to get him to snap out of it, rather worried about just who this lad was.