Disclaimer: Does it look like I own Kyou?

I don't know if Kunimitsu shows up in the anime…Kunimitsu is a karate student who seems to be Kazuma's assistant in the day-to-day business of running the dojo.

'Shishou' Means Father

"I was watching TV, and on one show, the students called their karate teacher 'shishou'. Are you a 'shishou', too?"

Laughing, gentle eyes had met his in surprise. "Well, I suppose so," he'd said, thoughtful. "But nobody calls me that."

"Oh." And he'd sunk deeper into the warm bath water, eyeing the tall, kind figure who had taken him in, sheltered him from the darkness lurking both within and without, and had showed him the beauty of sakura blossoms in the spring.

Shishou…what does 'shishou' mean?

The phone call from Kunimitsu came just as Kyou was stepping out of the bathroom after his shower. He picked up the receiver, his initial casual greeting crashing into shocked, roaring silence at the words that tumbled from Kunimitsu's mouth. The towel in his hand dropped heedlessly to the floor, his mind shrieking in protest even as the numbness throughout the rest of his body alerted his unresponsive brain to the fact that he'd already assimilated the news.

Kazuma-sensei. Accident. Fire. Roof beam. Spine. Help. Ambulance. Traffic jam.

Kyou's numbed fingers released the phone. He barely registered the sound of the receiver hitting the unyielding wooden floor; barely saw Tooru's worried face as she turned the corner to inquire who had called. His ruby eyes turned wildly on her, focused briefly, and then slid past as he bolted for the front door. Yuki's shouts, echoing Tooru's, were lost at Shigure's angry yelp as Kyou crashed straight through the offending barrier, not wasting the time to slide it open.

Shishou.

The tightness in Kyou's throat hampered his breathing, interfered with his ragged gasps for air into lungs paralyzed with fear.

Don't be too late. Don't let it be too late.

HE couldn't feel his legs as they stretched, propelling him forward; couldn't feel the hard earth beneath his bare feet, the fire of strained muscle as he pushed himself mindlessly forward.

Don't. Don't let it be too late.

If he prayed hard enough, if he believed strongly enough, everything would be okay. Everything would be all right. If he was good, everything would be fine. If he was good, nobody would get mad.

Kyou shut his eyes, sending those thoughts sprawling into a tiny corner with a vicious mental shove. No. Not now. Not now. That didn't matter now.

Shishou.

His eyes closed, he didn't see the uneven dip in the road. Didn't know it was there until the pain pierced up his leg, his body thrown forward across the unforgiving road, his twisted ankle singing in stinging protest.

Idiot. The mental reprimand was as sharp as the pain he felt in his left ankle with every step. Who taught you to always go forward with your eyes open? Kyou's keen gaze swept the gathering darkness for future possible hazards as he skidded around the corner. Shishou. A little bit farther. Just a little bit farther.

Fear. Desperation. A terrifying hollowness, an emptiness reverberating in his soul. Kyou panted for air as the dojo's familiar front gate came into view.

Don't. Don't let it be. Don't let it be too late.

The smell of smoke, charred wood, burning paper, and water heavy in the air. Red fire truck parked in front of the gate. Soaked ashes on the heated wind, slashing at the eye, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin, shower-damp hair. Clogging lungs that fought to drag in oxygen for trembling, fear-weakened muscles. Fireman waving him away, stubborn warning in his eyes behind the protective mask of the yellow helmet.

"Not safe. Stand back. Can't go in."

Assault of a public official. The man crumpled; Kyou's bare knuckles hummed at the violent contact with the plastic mask that had knocked into the firefighter's forehead. His eyes watered from the irritation of the soot that billowed with the heavy mist from the direction of the main house, but he easily dodged the firemen and women who moved as if to intercept him and prevent him from reaching the form lying in the center of the courtyard, Kunimitsu sitting, frozen, beside. Firefighters administered on-site medical aid as best they could as their comrades continued to hose down the remaining buildings to prevent spreading.

Shishou.

"SHISHOU!"

Kyou roughly shoved aside the final two men who dared attempt bar his path. His heart stuttered, then died, as he stared at the bloody, motionless figure laid out before him. Kunimitsu lifted tear-drenched eyes to Kyou's face and struggled to his feet. "Kyou," he chocked, casting a helpless glance at the pain-contorted face of their beloved and esteemed teacher. "Kazuma-sensei…asked me to call you. He wanted to see you…"

wanted to

"I'm not…in time?" Kyou's stomach gave a dry heave of protest. Kunimitsu shook his head, denying his statement, and waved a hand towards Kazuma's still, prone form.

"I'll…deal with the firefighters." Kunimitsu turned to offer Kyou what meager privacy he could.

Kazuma was motionless, his normally serene features tight as he fought to control the agony of his fire wounds. His kimono was ripped at the shoulder to reveal where a broken wooden post had impaled through his muscle, soiled bandages covering most of his athletic body.

Blood. The blood.  Kyou fell to his knees, neither hearing nor feeling the painful crack as they came into sudden contact with the concrete. Dry-eyed, dry-mouthed, panicked, Kyou sank fully to the ground to bring himself closer to Kazuma, whispering brokenly, "Shishou…I'm here, shishou."

"…Kyou." Kazuma's reply was slow, a heavy rasp of breath through lips cracked by fireheat. His gentle eyes focused laboriously on Kyou's face, and he managed a weak half-smile as he scanned the expression on his student and adopted son's face.

There were no tears, not even now when his shishou's predicament was so plain. Kyou's throat, nonetheless, choked off his words, and he croaked unintelligibly a moment before managing, "Kunimitsu said you asked to see me?"

Kazuma's smile was still faint, and it faded with the pain of his effort to lift his hand to Kyou's face in one tender caress. Wincing, he gasped for breath, barely managing the words over his obvious discomfort. "I wasn't going to run away…without saying good-bye."

Don't.

"No." His protest was a stricken whisper as he gripped Kazuma's hand in both of his, catching it before Kazuma let it drop back down to his side. Now the treacherous tears flooded his eyes, and Kyou blinked hard to keep them back. "No," he repeated, unable to—refusing to—accept Kazuma's words. "Don't. Shishou, no. Please. You can't…"

Loss. Grief. Abandonment. Loneliness. Was this was it was like, Kyou thought with a stab of anguish, to mourn someone before they were gone? He let the tears trickle down his cheeks as Kazuma mustered another sorrowful smile. One more, he thought, fighting the crashing wave of pain that flooded from what used to be his lower back. One more smile for Kyou. His smile was soft, loving, as he blinked up at Kyou to bring his face into focus.

"You said…to become someone to stand on your own…" his words were disjointed, but he knew from Kyou's expression that he understood, remembered the conversation. Father to son. "You said…I was your…" Another burning wall of agony, as distinguishable as the one that had collapsed and put him in this position, rose in Kazuma's mind. No! Just a little bit longer…A little bit longer with Kyou.

"…Father," Kyou's voice was a hushed murmur, a pained exhalation of breath soft as the smoke that drifted around them. One tear fell onto the hand he held in his. "Don't."

Can't. You can't. Shishou…Don't leave. Don't leave me.

"Kyou." The wall was tilting. Seconds, he had mere seconds left. Precious seconds left. Kazuma took one of his remaining few moments to look at Kyou, to remember him always, to see how he'd changed, grown. From a small, angry boy to this…this mature, confident, compassionate young man…From 'boy' to 'man.'

From 'Souma Kyou, neko' to 'Souma Kyou, son'.

"Kyou." His eyes closed, to preserve the memory, to focus on defying the leaning wall a little longer. To remember Kyou's tear-splattered face. "You've become…truly become…strong. Stronger than me. Strong in body. In mind. In…in heart." The flames that preceded the wall were all around him, terrifying in their intensity, their insatiable, avaricious hunger.

"I'd be honored if you were…my son." He couldn't duck, couldn't hide, couldn't outrun or outwit the falling wall, and slowly opened his eyes to see the tears slipping silently from Kyou's heart-ravaged, understanding eyes. He laughed, a pained, nearly inaudible puff of air from lungs too weak to draw in another breath. "You cried…the first time I saw you…too."

Wakatteru yo.

"Don't." Kyou's voice was a frantic plea, a choking beg. "Shishou…!"

"Aishiteru kara, Kyou." Kazuma's eyes slowly lost their grasp on the world, and as the wall came hurtling down on him, he gave Kyou's fingers one final, reassuring squeeze. "Ikitero…" The world faded for Kazuma in one blinding flash of pain, then relief; and his last memory was of Kyou's face, tear-stained, and both terrible and beautiful in his grief.

Kazuma's fingers went limp in his grasp, and Kyou sobbed, once, a heavy roll of emotion that convulsed his body as he bowed his head over the lifeless form of friend, teacher, father. Shishou. "Sayonara," he said to the emptiness before him, the emptiness inside. "Aishiteru, shishou."

Don't. Don't leave me.

Kyou haltingly brought Kazuma's fingers to his lips and kissed his knuckles, one final parting gesture before he set the still-warm hand on Kazuma's motionless chest, resting peacefully for eternity. "I won't leave," he promised quietly, sensing Kunimitsu's presence a respectful distance to his side, gazing at the body of their unconquerable shishou and sensei.

You'll always be with me.

8.1.04

NOTES: Wrote it and was ready to upload it in the same day! Yay. Stupid , they were doing "repairs" on the document manager…grrr…

cough cough A different writing style from my other Furuba fic, Yami no Namida. How did it work for you? Does it add or detract from Kyou's emotional state throughout the story? Please tell me what you thought!

Glossary, in alphabetical order:

aishiteru kara: because I love you…

ikitero: live on

neko: cat

sayonara: good-bye

sensei: teacher

shishou: master. Kyou's term for his karate instructor