The Flaw

Disclaimer: I guess everybody knows that I don't own Ai no Kusabi. I sure as hell am not talented enough to have written that. Also this is purely fictional.

First of sorry for the delay. I had everything ready and then my harddrive died. I lost everything except some stuff I had scribbled down (not only for this story but also my other one). I managed to rewrite most of it. I also had to install a new harddrive and stuff and then type things up. So I am sorry for posting so late, I hope people haven't given up on me. As a treat this chapter is proofread (at least once and parts of it twice) and it is long (at least it should be). I also corrected the last chapter and have to admit it wasn't very good. I felt the writing had really suffered there and it was a little on the repetetive side, when it came to sentence structure. I hope I corrected that a little in chapter 3 and paid hopefully enough attention to chapter 3. One question I would like to ask is whether I should capitalize blondie. I haven't so far, but maybe since they are person's of respect I should. What do people think?

Thank you, lucius, GypsyWillow, DrkDreamer and Lena for reviewing. Comments are at the end.

Chapter 3

Daryl had barely made it to his master’s apartment in Eos before he arrived. He was still out of breath, but his master would never know. He stood close to the door to the great and spacious entrance hall, barely visible yet there at the beck and call of his master. Quietly he moved behind his master to help him out of his coat and then went back to where he was. Bowing deeply looking intensely at the shiny black granite tiles, Daryl was waiting patiently for his masters new orders. Raoul did not even glance at him and walked slowly down the smaller hallway off to the left, past Daryl.
“Missed a spot.” Daryl thought looking at an offensive smudge on one of the tiles. Then his master interrupted his musings.
“Daryl, I will go out for dinner in an hour. Serve me tea in the office.”
That was unusual for his master, Daryl thought. Raoul was not very social and avoided company during week, when he could excuse himself by pretending he had work to do. On the weekend it was a different story, then his master was hardly home attending one function after the other discussing business, maintaining ties to other blondies, while looking at new pets or watching an opera.
Daryl hurried over into the kitchen, a small almost invisible door to the right giving him access to the servants’ corridors. He just hoped his master was not in a bad mood today. Raoul was rarely moody and even if he was, it had not influenced his judgements as far as Daryl could tell, but he planned to tell him about the new employee and he wanted everything to go smoothly. When Katze agreed to his plan, he had been so happy. Finally, he was not alone any longer. There was someone close to him that knew how he felt, since he was the same. Now doubting his next move he was waiting for the tea to steep, no technological advancement had been able to speed up this age old process. The clear liquid slowly turned golden and Daryl knew it was right. He grabbed a slice of lillaberry pie, his master’s favourite. It would surely make him receptive for his news. In reality Daryl did not anticipate a problem. He was just going to tell his master that a suitable help had been found and he had hired him. The only reason he was slightly nervous was that, if Raoul decided to be difficult or look into the matter, he would find that Katze did not really have any credentials beyond having been furniture. Daryl was moving along the bare corridors towards the office. It was unlikely his master would care, after all Daryl would be held responsible for any problems with the pets.
Soundlessly the door to the study was opened and closed. Raoul did not look up. He sat at his desk looking intently at a couple of datapads. The barely audible noise of saucer hitting cup was announcing the arrival of his tea. He looked up, shuffling his datapads around, moving them over to the left side of the massive marble desktop. As he was pulling the tea cup towards him, he was pleasantly surprised to see a piece of his favourite pie. Daryl was good. Not for the first time Raoul was glad to have taken in the furniture. Good one’s were tough to find and though Daryl was on the older side, training new furniture was an inconvenience that often did not outweigh the youth that came with a new acquisition. Immersed in this line of thought, Raoul sipped his tea and lifted a fork filled with the deliciously sweet-smelling pie.
Daryl was still standing by the desk, nervously waiting for his master’s attention.
“That is all, Daryl. The pie is really delicious.” Raoul was surprised, when Daryl still did not make a motion to leave. “Is there something else?” Raoul said a little too harshly. He was tired and had to look through these datacards before this dreaded dinner meeting tonight. He preferred to spend time on his own, especially lately. There really was not a lot of very stimulating company to be had.
Raoul looked straight at his furniture noticing his wide green eyes. “I’m just a little irritated, so I suggest you hurry and tell me what is so important!” These words were spoken more calmly now with much more control in the typical smooth and cultured blondie tone, Daryl could have sworn was innate.
“I am sorry to disturb you, master. I know you have more important things on your mind. I just meant to inform you, that as per your instructions, I have hired help for the pets.” Daryl spoke softly, loud enough to be heard by his master, but still a submissive whisper.
“That is fine, Daryl. I am glad you found someone, though this news could have waited until tomorrow. I am rather busy today. Do you have the contract?”
“Yes, master. Here.” Daryl passed the datafoil over to his master. “He agreed to all the conditions, we discussed and has already started his work.”
Raoul did not even glance at the contract. He trusted Daryl and if the furniture had any problems with the new help, it would be his responsibility. He was sure the furniture had chosen wisely. “It is your responsibility to ensure that my pets are safe and remain untouched.” “The warning was unnecessary he knew. He had offered Daryl to buy another furniture, since there were risks involved letting others close to a precious harem. Daryl had declined, he had warned him and that was the end of it.
“That is all, Daryl.” He sounded tired even to his own ears. Daryl left quietly and he shoved the datafoil aside pulling the datapads back in front of him. He took another sip of his tea and went back to work, the contract already forgotten.

Daryl was exhilarated. Everything had worked out. With Raoul’s signature placed on the foil Daryl would gain a trustworthy worker, a mentor and most importantly a friend. He was very grateful now that his master had taken him in after Iason’s death, that he had awarded him responsibility and given him this opportunity, though unknowingly, to find if not happiness at least comfort in his new life. After selecting and preparing Raoul’s clothes for the evening and getting him dressed and groomed, silently cursing and admiring the long, wavy blond strands, the furniture rushed back to Apatia without wasting any more time. He wanted to tell Katze that everything had gone well with Raoul and see how his day had gone, but more importantly he wanted company- Company that did not ignore him, order him or obey him, but company that wanted to be with him. Maybe he was being too presumptuous, maybe Katze did not want to spend time with him, but rather just needed a place to stay, but Daryl hoped this wasn’t so. He needed a connection, a connection that had been lacking ever since Riki’s death.
Smiling slightly he walked towards the kitchen; he would have time to get the pets’ supper ready with Katze. As he entered, he saw that hiring his mentor had not been a mistake. The chef was grumbling not very impressed by the fact that an old, useless ex-furniture was telling him what to do, but he was getting his job done and many heating dome covered dishes where lined up on the counter ready for delivery.
“I see you are already comfortable in your new role here.” Daryl whispered into the ex-furniture’s ear leaning over his shoulder watching the older man checking on the food before switching the heating dome on. “And you are enjoying your newfound authority.”
Katze’s eyes went wide in surprise; he hadn’t heard Daryl’s approach too involved with the chefs bickering. Then his lips turned into a smile as he looked over his shoulder. “Hey, I dealt with thugs in the black market. I can deal with this lazy, stuck up bastard. And… .” His words turned smoother, slower and a little teasing. “You know quite well how much I love authority.”
Daryl couldn’t help but grin widely at the wink he was receiving from the other man. He pushed away from him with the hands that had rested on his shoulder.
“Let’s get this food served! We don’t have time for small talk!” He said mock sternly and then whispered leaning forward to grab three of the plates, like an accomplished servant. “Don’t forget who has the authority now.”
“How could I ever?!” Katze stated dryly rolling his eyes and grabbing some plates himself.

Finally after all the pets were fed, Daryl and Katze sat down for their own supper. They ate in companionable silence, Daryl stealing shy glances of Katze, while the other pretended ignorance. The older man was just too perceptive for the furniture and Daryl was no match for the sly thugs Katze had dealt with over the past years. He ignored the looks, quenching his thirst with his favourite beverage debating whether to get seconds.
Daryl was glad Katze was eating so well. He had tried to slip more food on the perceptive man’s plate, when he had served it. Malnourishment was defining Katze’s body, his shoulders and rips stood out sharply, clad as he was in metallic blue spandex. It had not been as apparent yesterday, when Katze had been wearing much wider clothes. Ordinarily the older man should have had much more trouble fitting into his outfits. Daryl had always been leaner and smaller - not a strong man like Katze. Only time would restore that strength in the other man.
Katze gestured that he wanted a second helping and Daryl obliged him serving himself a little more as well to make the other man less uncomfortable. Furniture ate little, especially the smart ones, since weight gain was an undesirable side effect of castration as one got older - an undesirable side effect that their owners naturally appreciated little. Daryl watched his weight and paid attention to his looks not out of vanity, but necessity. Dissatisfied owners were less likely to grant you citizenship and let you go.
Slowly he nibbled at a piece of steamed broccoli; he had refrained from taking some of the hardier food and left it for Katze. Again he looked at the other man and the reddish brown unruly veil of hair that reached past his shoulder. Such an exquisite colour and beyond rare in mongrels, it was stunning framing Kate’s pale face. No wonder he had caught Iason’s attention and become the most powerful blondie’s furniture.
Katze caught Daryl staring again and was getting annoyed with these eyes full of pity and admiration. It was an unsettling combination he did not appreciate. Why he did not know. “So what else is on our agenda?” He cut the now uncomfortable silence.
“For today not much. I gave you most of the tour earlier, but I’m afraid I forgot a few administrative things.” Daryl shoved his fork back and forth through the rice knowing that his stares had been caught and not appreciated. His plate was much more interesting right now.
“Yes, I assume you are going to give me a key chip and a registration number?” Katze prompted.
“Yes, yes, that’s the first thing. It will give you access to everything except a couple of rooms restricted for anybody but Raoul.” Daryl ate another forkful of rice.
“We also have to talk about the pet show that is coming up. We should look at the training plan and see how we can optimize it. I was also going to give you more detail on Raoul’s preferences. I want to surprise him with something new and different. Innovation pleases him greatly!”
Katze smirked at that. Maybe Raoul was not so different from his blondie friend. The great Iason had liked being caught off guard to a certain extend, partly because it did not happen often. That was probably one reason Katze was still alive. Pleasant surprises had interrupted the constant boredom the elite had suffered from until… .
“I think I should still remember a trick or two from the good old days. It might would do us good to impress him, since it might prove my worth.”
Daryl smiled at his mentor with excitement in his eyes. “Yes, let’s really impress him. Let’s blow him away, though we really don’t have much time. There are only 9 days left until the show!”
Katze shrugged. “I think that should be fine. Plenty of time to have the pets in the shape he wants them in and a well choreographed show set up. Most of the pets seem rather eager and well-trained with the exception of two or three. I’m surprised he purchased them, even their records hint at some disciplinary issues!”
Daryl shook his head at that and the fact that Katze obviously had found time in his busy schedule to more thoroughly study the pets’ records, they had glanced at earlier already committing many details to memory. “Yeah, I never understood that either. I mean they are very, very pretty, but .. . Maybe he thought I would be better able to train them!”
“You are very convinced of your abilities.”
“Yep, I had the best teacher!”
Katze snorted at that and the playful smirk on Daryl’s face. “The couple of months that I was actually instructing you hardly count for anything! Not that I do not believe in your abilities.” The compliment had obviously made Katze uncomfortable.
“Let’s just hope we can really train them!”
“I still think it was an impulse buy!” They were pretty, Daryl was right, but in an understated way. Golden skin and raven hair – exotic and alluring certainly, but not stunning. Purple was in fashion right now and very very large eyes. But then if Iason was an indicator, important blondies cared less for fashion. “Regardless, we have them and we have to make them work!”
“Actually, we don’t. The first show is a competition at the Emporium. We ourselves will decide how many pets we enter, but we have to show them eventually and soon. They have caught his eye!”

Two hours passed by as they were discussing the upcoming show. Katze was effortlessly easing back into his former job, remembering training and experience he had thought the years of working in the black market had wiped out. Daryl noticed the change in his mentor. Slowly the man had relaxed, had shown that gleam in his eye as he found more and more innovative methods to perfect the pets’ performance and take advantage of the potential available to them.
As they noticed how late it was they finally decided to go to bed rightfully exhausted. Walking down the hallway together they reached their rooms. Katze’s room was just across from Daryl’s. It had the same layout, was small, but provided enough space for bed, closet and a small desk. The absence of a computer terminal was Katze’s only complaint and he was going to remedy that as soon as he had the funds to do so.
Daryl left him to his own devices, so he could not only take in the room in more detail, but also the reality of his new life. He sat down on the small bed that as of yet had not been outfitted with sheets, blankets and pillows. Slowly he lowered himself onto the mattress staring at the immaculate grey ceiling looking from one pot light to the other liking the feel of being blinded, when looking to the next. His thoughts drifted to his own apartment and the luxury he now knew it to have been. Maybe once he made some money, he could rent his own place again. It would be less convenient, but would take a lot into account for the privacy of it. I guess, Iason did spoil me, Katze thought dryly. He had to smirk at that thought. Lifting his arm from his side, he laid his wrist on his forehead. Iason as a philanthropist was really too far from the truth. He might have spoiled him a little, but only to get what he wanted. There had also been other much crueller methods he had employed. Katze’s fingers slowly traced the scar on his cheek, his defining feature in many ways. It or better the reason for it had made him who he was now. It served as a reminder.

It had been a long day, but Daryl could not wipe the smile off his face or the gleam from his eyes. It had been so much better to share the work. It almost seemed like no work at all – almost. Happily he grabbed his pyjamas and a second pair for Katze to wear. He got out some clothes and went to the hall closet to get some sheets, pillows and blankets for his friend’s bed.
Katze’s door was open and Daryl stood in the doorframe waiting for the other to recognize him. His mentor seemed deep in thought lying on the mattress his auburn hair splayed around his head. His face was relaxed and calm, his eyes only opened to slits gazing at nothing. It looked different from the usually guarded man. Daryl attributed that to his exhaustion reminding himself to go easy on a man worn out by malnutrition and nights on the street. Clearing his throat finally caught Katze’s attention. He flinched on the bed startled. Quickly his face was back to its sharp, sardonic look.
“I brought you some sheets for the bed and something to wear. I also have your clean clothes from last night. Can I come in?”
“You are already halfway through the door might as well. Take a seat at the desk, if you want!” In one smooth motion Katze sat upright on the bed holding out his hand.
Daryl gave him the neatly folded stack and watched as Katze moved to make the bed.
“So now that you have a decent income and a room, it is time to buy you some clothes. They will not be provided you know and you can’t keep mine.” Daryl said while Katze was tucking at the corners of the sheet making it just perfect.
The older man looked at him and snorted. “Too bad I really love tight, metallic outfits. It just gives me that certain sparkle, don’t you think?” With that Katze straightened up, chest ridiculously pushed forward, chin up, wiggling his shoulders – the perfect imitation of a haughty pet. That sardonic smile was there again, but did not have the desired effect on the furniture.
“Don’t joke.” He noticed right away in Daryl’s voice that he had rubbed the man the wrong way. His body folded back together and he put all his concentration in the pillows and blankets.
“That’s my uniform, you know. It used to be yours as well. I still have to wear it.” Daryl hissed.
“Hey, don’t take offence. It is not your fashion sense I am criticizing here. Only blondies would choose stuff like this. They like to look like peacocks themselves. No sense of style, the lot of them!” Katze’s attempt to smooth over the situation was working. Daryl was giggling now hand in front of his mouth as if fearing to be caught. Encouraged by this and feeling increasingly silly Katze was now back in pose, just less seductive and more stern - lips curled slightly, eyes glaring.
Daryl couldn’t hold it anymore. He held his belly in an attempt to calm down and control his laughter, which was only rewarded by small tears in his eyes. Now laughing as well Katze fell back onto his bed. His laughs became a little more frantic, laughing about his whole situation about his last few years and about life in general. It felt good to laugh off a bit of the tension that was his constant companion, but he caught himself before he could get to carried away now with tears in his eyes as well. As they both calmed down, he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.
“Anyway, I wouldn’t mind purchasing a few new clothes. I can’t wear yours forever and they are a little tight on me.” He demonstrated this by tugging at the high neck of his overall. Staring again, Daryl caught himself and looked down inspecting the carpet before looking back up. Lying on his bed, arms spread to either side, Katze had turned his head towards him. He was still panting lightly lips parted and mouth slack, not locked in the fine thin line he mostly wore. Daryl thought he looked young and something else he couldn’t name.
“Can we go shopping together? I would like to go with you, if you let me.”
Katze flexed his fingers absent-mindedly staring along his arm at Daryl’s hopeful eyes. “Why wouldn’t I? But how are you going to get the time off? Your master might not like the idea of his furniture walking about for anything but his errands, fearing his furniture might get a life.” The sarcastic smile was back in place.
“I will talk to him. I don’t think he will mind. I mean, Iason didn’t. I used to go out with Riki every once in a while.” Both men fell silent, their eyes locked and the elated mood had evaporated.


IS THIS GETTING TO SLOW? HOW DO YOU FIND THE PACE? ALSO IS THE EMPORIUM THE RIGHT PLACE FOR PET SHOWS? ALSO I WAS NOT GOING TO WASTE MUCH TIME DESCRIBING PET SHOWS OR WRITING TOO MUCH ABOUT PETS. WOULD YOU RATHER I EXPAND ON THEM AND DESCRIBE INTERACTION WITH THEM A LITTLE OR NOT?


DrkDreamer -
I tried to take your advice and create more paragraphs in this and the second chapter (haven't had time to look at the first). It should be better structured. Tell me whether you like it or not. I usually write research papers and none of those could be considered literature, so I went by what it looked like in one of my novels. And you are right those pets are trouble and we will hear more of them.

GypsyWillow -
Concerning blondies and violence. I don't think of them as particularly violent though Iason certainly had a nasty streak (when he was in the alley, when there was that attack on him, when he planned to trap Riki's gang and ordered people's deaths). My believe is that slavery (that's in my mind what having furniture is) is never pure violence or all bad otherwise people would never do it or stay in it. BUT furniture is expendable and they are things. Some blondies might care about them like we would care about a pet or an object, some might appreciate the services, but for the most part they are ignored. Yet I can see blondies letting out their frustrations on them by threatening to sell them, by punishing small mistakes (like smudges on glass etc.) the same way they release sexual tension by watching pets. I am not thinking crazy whippings and outright torture here (though that might be the case in very very rare circumstances). I am thinking more being slapped around and sometimes beaten (like a battered housewife after a stressful day at work) or generally overworking them.
Also as you can see Raoul is a part of this story and will probably show up more frequently.

Lena -
Thanks for sticking to the story and reviewing more that once. It always helps. I agree with you (after reviewing chapter 2) I prefer to post a better product than that and will try to do so. Thank you also for the offer to look at my story. Right now most of it is irrevocably lost on my other harddrive (sob).