The dog, that was a tiger
Clouds forming in the distance
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Heloo..oo..o..o…(echo
fades off)
Uhh, just wanted
to say, this story has been updated. Just, you know, read and review.
I had to
play a little with the Japanese police system for it to fit my story, I have
no idea if a department like the one which is mentioned in this chapter
exists, but hey, all for the plot, ne?^^°
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5.
Clouds forming in the distance
„You little
bastard! How dare you go around and tell people such things, your mother
and sister of all! Now they think, I am some kind of brutalizing monster,
although all I did, was trying to teach you some manners!” shouted his father.
“If you had
really cared that much about me, you might have found it once in a while to
grace the annual parent talk with your appearance, but no, you never once in ten
years showed up! And don’t give me crap about being busy working, because
my teach made up at least four special appointments just for the three
of us, and guess, who never came? It’s no wonder, the local police officers
never booked me in when they caught me in a brawl!”
~The
cream colored, beat up Nissan rolled to a halt in front of his door. He never
dared to look up once, although he knew, all neighbours would recognize his
shock of blond hair immediately. And it was not like he was the first kid in
the neighbourhood being brought home in a civilian police car, seeing as this was
one of the more hazardous areas of town.
Besides,
eight out of ten inhabitants of the cheap appartment house could smell a cop
from ten miles downwind.
When
they neared his home, the door flew open and there stood his father, his red-shot eyes throwing daggers at him, as he barked:
“Now,
what did you do this time, you little punk? I hope, it was only a fight, because if I ever hear you being caught for shop-lifting or something, there’s
no more reason for you to come home, am I understood?!”
Katsuya
shrank back behind the police officer, who gave him a quick pat on the back,
before adressing his father:
“Excuse
me, Sir, am I right by assuming that you are Jounouchi-san senior?”
He
folded his arms over his massive chest and snapped:
“If you
don’t mind, lady, I was talking to my misshapen son here, so bug off!”
“Excuse
me, Jounouchi-san, I am afraid, I can’t-“
“Get the
hell off my porch, before I call the poilce and have you arrested for
trespassing!”
Flashing
an ID at him, the lady shot back:
“I
Takano Yoshimi*, department for investigation of domestic affairs, to be exact,
and you are in serious trouble! Now, may I enter, or do you want me to take you to the station in handcuffs?”~
Huffing,
each of them standing on opposite sides of the table, they glared at each
other.
With a
swipe of his hand, Jou removed the slight trickle of blood where his cheek had
been nicked.
“If not for
Takano-san, I’d probably be worm food by now” he stated calmly, as he slowly
tried to sneak towards the door.
His father,
however, predicted his movement and blocked his way.
Taking a
deep breath Jou closed his eyes for a second, before locking them with his
father’s and demanded:
“Get out of
my way. Now.” A gasp of disbelief accompanied his father’s question:
“What..did
you say?”
“Get out of
my way. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t let me go, now, I will if I
have to.”
Silence reigned
heavy within the kitchen, and then, a humourless chuckle, more of a grunt,
escaped his father’s throat, before he broke out into loud laughter.
“That’s a
nice one, Katsuya, hahahaa, I almost got scared. Really, if I didn’t know you, I
would have stepped aside right now. You should go for a career as professional
gambler, or actor.”
The grin
fell from his face as fast as he shot towards him. With a yelp, Jou evaded the
fist aiming for his head, only to smack into the one pointed at his stomach. He
doubled over in pain, using his momentum to let him roll over the floor and
bring him to his feet in one swift movement.
A desperate
leap, born out of pure survival instinct, saved him from a sock-clad heel. One
more roll on the floor, a whirl and a flip, as he moved away from three
well-aimed stabs to his chest, throat and neck.
This was
getting worse by the minute.
Somewhere
along the sreaming and fighting, his father had sobered up and now his
training took over.
Few people
knew, or cared to remember, was, that his father had won the local +Kenpo-mastership
when in Junior High. He had stopped training in favor of his studies, aiming
towards a career, but was still a formidable fighter and the reason, burglars
would shy from breaking into their appartment.
Sadly
enough, he also knew how and where to hit to take out an opponent in mere
seconds. Jou knew all his moves, seeing, as he used to be trained by him, when
they moved here, but lacked the expierence and skill to gain the upper hand.
Once more a close call, sweat formed on Jou’s brow, as he tried to reason with his
father:
“Pop, come
on, stop it! There’s no way in hell my teach’s gonna buy that lame excuse about
me getting mugged and beaten up on the way home, again!”
A sharp,
straight blow to his right shoulder sent him stumbling backwards, and when his
eyes regained focus, he saw a leg crushing down towards him, intent on
splitting his skull.
Years
later, Jounouchi would try desperately to recall, what happened in the next few
seconds, but to no avail. All he remembered, was screaming in terrified
despair, and then the knuckles of his left hand exploded into tiny shrapnels of
liquid fire.
Clouded
pools of gold stared into dazed, chestnut-colored ones, and then, his father
fell.
Gracefully,
bonelessly, more like a puppet without strings, he slumped to the ground, his
face strangely deformed.
It took a
moment, for Katsuya to realize why, but when he did, a strangled cry escaped
his throath.
He had hit
his father.
He had hit
his father, dislocated his jaw and knocked him out.
In all
those years they had been sparring, be it training, a friendly struggle or a
real fight, Jou had not once risen his hand against his father.
Until now.
Trying to
swallow the bile he felt rising past his hitched breaths, Jou stepped closer,
then knelt down next to his father.
Hesitantly,
he pulled the elder man into an upright position. Crying, he threw his arms
around this ones’ broad frame, and wailed:
“Oh, kami,
dad, I…I didn’t mean to hit you, otousan..I..I was so scared, I didn’t want to,
otousan, I..I didn’t…”
His voice
died down into unintelligible mutters. For a while, all that could be heard were
his near-hysteric sobs, and then, like a feather borne on the wind, a soft
whisper reached his ear.
“It’s
alright, Katsuya. Gomen
nasai, musuko, gomen nasai…”**
They
remained like that for the better part of the night.style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>
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Aand,
another endless chapter concluded-whew! Stay tuned, I’m going to update this
asap.
*With a nod
to my Nihongo no sensei-I could just picture her wearing a police
uniform!^^ She’s real nice, too, but not to be messed with…
+I don’t
know, but the way Jou fights, speaks of some sort of training, and not ‘only’
street-fighting. It just seems, he usually let’s his temper take over his
fighting, using his anger and strength rather than his skills…
**Yes, I
know, his father’s jaw was dislocated, and his speaking should be more of a
drawl..but it’s easier to translate it this way: “I’m sorry my son, I’m sorry..”