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Kazuo's Kind
by Lara Bartram

Part 3


	Everyday Kazuo felt haunted.  Haunted by the knowledge that he
had killed someone.  His bloody fingerprints weren't on the knife or
anything, but they were awfully close to being so.  And he was
beginning to believe the things the other members of the kendo team
were saying.
	He wasn't good enough to be captain.  He couldn't stand up to
the pressure.  His ego just wasn't strong enough to stand up to
losing.  And it always felt like there was someone watching him at
practice.  Kazuo could imagine who that someone might be.
	Sometimes he just wanted to yell at everyone that it was all
his fault.  But this was Furinkan.  They would just think he was
strange and dismiss everything he said.  It was how things normally
happened.
	When the meditation stopped working, Kazuo had tried to turn
to other things to calm him.  Practicing helped less than meditation;
he just couldn't immerse himself in his movements like he used to be
able to do.  Music didn't work either.  The rich, powerful sounds of
classical, the thumping bass and grating singing of pop, even the fast
guitar and muted words of speed metal raised no emotion in him.
	Then he tried something one day.  The fact that it worked had
surprised him.  He had never cared for it before, but something in it
seemed to really touch him.
	"I'm surprised to find you here."
	She had done it again.  Kazuo snorted contemptuously.  "Why?
You think I can't read?"
	Nabiki shrugged.  "Never know.  Not that I've ever seen you
here before."
	"And you're such a scholar."
	Nabiki nodded knowingly.  "Keep it up, Ochiai-san.  You're
putting up a pretty good front.  I bet most people can't even tell."
She smiled at him.  It was small and smug.
	Tell?  Tell what?  They couldn't possibly know...  He laughed
nervously.  "Good one.  Go ahead, say it.  Your little mind games
don't bother me at all.  I still remember that this is mostly your
fault, not mine."
	Nabiki shrugged, running her fingers over the backs of the
books.  "Think whatever you want.  I wasn't the one that wanted him
out of the way in the first place."  She walked halfway down the row,
her fingers trailing over the books, her eyes on the shelves.
	Kazuo had to bite his lip to keep himself from saying
anything.  Without thinking it out carefully, his words could be used
against him as easily as a land mine.  "Like you weren't responsible
at all."
	Nabiki's head turned to look back at him.  "Prove that I was."
	Kazuo boggled for a moment at that.  That... that was probably
true, something he had never thought of.  Running through his very
limited options, Kazuo realized that in any sort of court, Tendo
Nabiki had better motives for not seeing Kuno Tatewaki dead.  Kazuo,
on the other hand, gained quite a bit.
	He looked down at his hands.  Yet, he hadn't gained anything
except misery.  Every day was misery.  In the end, the gain hadn't
outweighed the price.  Being the captain of the damn kendo team didn't
mean squat when he couldn't sleep, could barely eat, always felt like
he was being watched.
	"What's wrong, Ochiai-san?" Nabiki asked, walking back toward
him.  "You look a little... haunted."  She wasn't smiling, but she
could have been.
	"Leave me alone.  You got your money.  If you want more to
stay quiet, you're not getting any."  Kazuo was still looking at his
hands.
	"No, I wouldn't want any more of your money.  I think it's
accomplished enough.  What do you think?"
	"I think I'm not going to listen to you any more.  Goodbye,
Tendo Nabiki.  I wish I had never known you."  Kazuo made a show of
relocating his page in the book in front of him and starting to read.
	Nabiki arched one eyebrow in acceptance.  "If that's the way
you want it... captain."  Nabiki stood behind him and looked at the
book he was reading for a moment.  "That was Kuno-chan's favorite book
of poetry, you know?"
	Kazuo said nothing and waited until he was sure she was gone.
Then he slammed the book shut and threw it across the table.  Staring
at the book, Kazuo shook his head.  "Liar," he whispered.  When he
reached to get the tome, it was as if his hand refused to touch it.
	"Liar," he said again, a bit more loudly, then stood up and
left the library.

***

	Class.  He couldn't concentrate.  He hadn't been able to for
quite some time and his grades...  Well, his grades were taking a turn
for the worse.
	He couldn't ask for any leniency.  If he did, they would ask
why.  How was he supposed to explain that he had done something...
No.  He hadn't done anything.  Kazuo had to tell himself that
continuously.  He hadn't done anything.  It wasn't his fault.  He
would never kill anyone under any circumstances, so he couldn't
possibly be held responsible...
	Suddenly, Kazuo had to wonder how many other people besides
Tendo Nabiki could tell he was hiding something.  How many other
people could see through the crumbling mask he put on every day to
hide the fact that it was his fault?
	No!  It wasn't his fault!  Kazuo shivered and realized he had
been three quarters of the way to asleep.  That would be a bad mistake
in class; he didn't need any more trouble dumped on him.
	"Ochiai-san!"
	Too late; he had been caught.

	Standing in the hall with his two buckets of water, Kazuo had
plenty of time to consider things without distraction.  And there was
definitely no falling asleep with the buckets in his hands.  He
snarled.  He had heard the snickering as he had left the classroom.
Sure, it was always real funny to everyone else.  They could laugh as
much as they wanted at him...

***

	Kazuo woke up the next morning and realized he was late.
Getting ready with a speed he didn't know he had, eating breakfast in
two bites, he was out the door as fast as he could go.
	He arrived at Furinkan with time to spare, thankfully, though
he had missed yet another early morning kendo practice.  That would
not be looked upon kindly.  Meaning to get to class as soon as he
could, he turned to come through the gate and slammed right into
someone.
	"Hey, why don't you watch where you're going!" Kazuo yelled as
his bag went flying.
	"Don't blame me, pal.  You're the one actin' like there's a
fire," the person retorted.
	Kazuo looked up to see he had run right into Saotome Ranma.
Saotome Ranma, the stud of the school that had girls drooling all over
him.  "Maybe if you weren't in the way, you'd realize I actually take
an interest in my education.  Not like you."
	Kazuo stood up and dusted himself off before retrieving his
bag.  "Next time, why don't you just use your martial arts to tae kwon
leap out of my way."
	That got a growl out of Ranma.  "Why don't you just pay
attention where you're going, stick boy."
	Kazuo looked at Ranma, surprised.  "Stick boy?  Well isn't
that original.  Isn't that what you called Ku..."  Kazuo's eyes 
narrowed.  "Shut up.  You're not worth my time."
	"I can make you worth mine if ya want.  It's not a problem,
really."
	Kazuo could see Ranma's eyes evaluating him.  If Kuno couldn't
defeat Ranma, than he couldn't.  But...  But he had seen where Kuno
had done everything wrong when fighting the school upstart.  Kuno had
had skill, but had never been able to adapt.  Kazuo could adapt, could
see patterns and change his methods.  Kazuo could beat Ranma.
	"Another time, when I don't have better things to do," Kazuo
said haughtily.  Turning his back to Ranma, he walked to the front
doors of the school.

***

	Saotome Ranma.  What a jerk.  Thinks he's so good, so perfect.
Thinks he can beat anyone.  'Stick boy'.  Stick boy my ass.  He'd
crush Saotome Ranma then shove his stick where the sun didn't shine.
That'd definitely get Saotome Ranma's attention.

End 3