UGH! It's been FOREVER, hasn't it? I've been super-busy and haven't had much time to write. :( I also think I got a little bit of a writer's block. I'm hoping I can crush it though, since I've done it before. I tried really hard to get this chapter out on December 12th (my December 13th) because that was when I first uploaded this fic last year. I guess seventeen chapters in one year isn't too bad, but still. XD

This chapter is also a little special because, well... it's the chapter where Gala and Songi FINALLY kiss! (Yay, spoilers! ^^) Took you long enough, guys! Of course, being Gala and Songi, this is far from an admission of love from them. I don't know how much longer that will take. XD Enjoy! :D

Chapter 17

As Songi fell silent, Gala couldn't help continuing to look at him in horror for several seconds afterwards. He didn't even realize he was doing it until Songi finally looked up and met his gaze.

"What?" he said, the familiar bitter smile tweaking his lips. "Were you expecting something different? I pretty much obliterated Mart and Lecto, and then Riku went running off, and I-"

"Stop," Gala said, hearing his voice crack. "Songi, no more-"

"I like to think some part of me tried to spare Riku," Songi went on, ignoring him. "I actually liked him, you know. He was a good guy. But I think it was just my lousy aim."

"Songi, shut up!"

Gala was within seconds of leaping to his feet, rushing over to Songi and shaking him until he stopped talking, but luckily he didn't have to. Songi, as though waking from some kind of deep trance, blinked and seemed to stir. Gala saw him clench his teeth and fists, as though it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from breaking something. When he spoke though, his voice was gentler than the brunet ever remembered hearing it. It was practically a whisper.

"How could I help him? What the hell happened to me? Cort... He's the one who killed my dad. He's the one who made us live in misery for so long. I can't believe I wanted to help him spread that... that goddamn Mist..."

Gala didn't answer. What could he say? He agreed completely with what Songi had just said - for once. Songi had hated the Mist more than anyone. He'd hated losing his father; he'd hated being cooped up in the monastery; he'd hated having to follow others' rules; he'd hated always being outdone by his best friend... And yet he'd joined Cort, the creator of the Mist, the thing that had caused all that.

Of course, he hadn't known who Cort was at that point, but even so, joining a man who'd put him through so much pain and fully intended to kill him if he didn't do what he said... Then again, Gala realized, if Songi hadn't agreed to join Cort, he would almost certainly have been killed. Riku and the others would've found him and, if Cort hadn't attacked them too, brought him back to the monastery. Master Zopu, Maya, Riku and probably Etha would've cared. A few of Songi's sarcastic, snarky, rude acquaintances would've cared. And Gala... Yes, he would've cared. He would've cared a lot, no matter what state their friendship had been in at that point, or how much Songi undoubtedly believed he wouldn't have. He would've cared so much that even thinking of such a scenario now made Gala feel cold all over.

"At least the Seru won't ever come back," Songi said, after a short silence. "That means I at least did something positive, right?

He sounded close to desperate, like he really needed Gala to excuse his actions, even in some small way. It was probably true that having no Seru was the best thing in the end, since their interactions with humans had never been intended. But still...

"Ozma, we have experienced life and death together. How can you leave me now?"

"Oh, Gala, has your dependence on me caused you to forget your own abilities?"

Gala swallowed, remembering some of the last words between him and his Ra-Seru before Ozma had disappeared forever. When he next spoke, his voice was unintentionally harsh.

"It's not like you got rid of Seru intentionally."

"But still!" Songi said. "I'm just saying, at least something good did come out of-"

"Songi," Gala interrupted. He hadn't really been listening to the red-head's last statement. He knew it was just more self-justifying babbling, and he knew it would make him angry if it went on too much longer. So instead, he forced himself to voice a question that he felt had never really left his mind for over two years, and seemed had been on his mind constantly since after their battle with Juggernaut.

"Songi, do you... do you still hate me?"

Of course he does. Of course he does. Of course he does.

Songi focused his gaze above Gala's shoulder again. The brunet had to strain himself not to shout, "Can't you even look at me?!" In a way, the question was extremely out-of-the-blue, but at the same time... it had hung between them for so long. Everything else aside, Songi had never outright said he hated Gala. Actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had said it all too plainly.

"I..." Songi seemed to think for a long time.

The rain and thunder stopped things from being completely silent, but still things seemed deafeningly quiet. Gala didn't know how long he could stand it. Why didn't Songi just answer him already? Why didn't he just come out with it and say that, yes, he did hate him, he hated him more than anything and always would? Why didn't he finally put his detestment into words, now that he'd been given the perfect opportunity to?

"No," Songi said at last, and actually looked at Gala. His bright blue eyes were sincere; he wasn't lying, nor would he have, probably. Why would he lie about something like this? But despite the sincerity, there was doubt in his eyes too, like he wasn't sure he completely believed what he'd just said. Even so, that was still a lot more than Gala had been expecting.

"No?" he repeated, returning Songi's gaze. Songi fidgeted uncomfortably and looked down. So much for maintaining eye contact.

"You saved my life," he said, in a dead kind of voice. "I don't hate you."

Convincing.

Songi looked up again, and the expression on his face was much less closed than before. It was quippy and annoyed, slightly sarcastic despite the obvious lingering pain. It was a lot more Songi-like than anything Gala had seen from him since they'd first started talking about Cort.

"I hate that you're keeping me here though," Songi said. "I just want to go somewhere far away, or travel, or... something. But..." He paused. "Well, I know you're only doing this because you're an idiot, and I can't fault you for being an idiot. It's what you're good at, right?"

Gala felt his face relax into a small smile. The muscles on the sides of his mouth felt very stiff, like they hadn't been used in weeks.

"Not as good as you," he said lightly. Songi almost smiled back.

"Yeah, right."

Gala realized, with a slight jolt, that he and Songi were actually conversing with some trace of civility. It wasn't like it was the first time they had since the Seru-kai, but still, such moments had been very few and far between. Remembering the Seru-kai made Gala think of something else too.

"Gala! Gala! The pain is unbearable! You're my friend... Help me!"

The rain outside continued to pour heavily as Gala looked at his companion, thinking fleetingly of all the horrible things the man had done these past months. Songi had resented Gala's superior strength so much, he'd eventually come to resent him. No, he hadn't just resented him; he'd loathed him. And yet, in that moment of pure desperation, when the Seru-kai had been tearing him apart atom by atom, Songi had...

"Songi," Gala said, his smile fading. Songi only had a moment to look at him in confusion before Gala blurted out, "We're friends, right?"

Gala wasn't sure, but he almost could've sworn he saw Songi's cheeks redden a little. If they did, it was very slight. Songi wasn't exactly the blushing type.

"S-Sure," he said. Gala wasn't certain he believed him. If he was lying, he was likely only doing it because he didn't want another fight. If he wasn't lying... Well, he had a strange way of showing his affection for him.

"That didn't sound too convincing," Gala said. Songi looked annoyed, the way he always did when someone dared to question him.

"What do you want, a friendship-handshake?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Gala shrugged.

"Why not?"

He put up his right hand, palm towards his companion and fingers spread. Songi surveyed him for a moment, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then, his face relaxed into a grin - that familiar, Songi grin that was so rare on him these days - and he raised his own dominant hand. He didn't so much as shake Gala's hand as he did smack it, his palm crashing into his so hard, it almost flew back into the brunet's face.

Gala's hand was tingling where Songi's had struck it, and his heart had suddenly begun to race.

"That's our new handshake," Songi said. Still grinning, he lowered his own hand. "Fun, right? Damn, Gala, that look on your face..."

He laughed. Gala stared back at him, speechless. He could scarcely believe it. Songi was laughing - laughing hard, without any of the spite or anger or malice. For the first time in Gala didn't know how long, Songi was genuinely laughing. He had a nice laugh when it wasn't etched with any of the hatred or insecurity Gala had grown so accustomed to. It would've been nicer if Gala wasn't still the butt of joke, but somehow, it didn't seem to bother him much now. Maybe it was because, back when they'd been friends, Songi had always joked around with him in this way, startling him, lightly baiting him... It hadn't turned sinister until much later. Before that, having Songi jump out from behind a door and shouting "Boo!" to scare Gala half to death had just been one of the many ways the guy had shown he liked him.

"Oh, you think it's funny, huh?" Gala said in mock-irritation. This only made Songi laugh harder, which in truth had been Gala's intention. He laughed a little too, but not nearly as much as him. His heart was still racing a mile a minute, but that didn't matter.

We're friends again. We really are-

Gala's thoughts were cut off abruptly as Songi, without warning, sprang forward and tackled him, throwing all his weight onto him. Gala landed hard on the floor, Songi on top of him, and gasped as most of the wind was knocked out of him. Songi wasn't laughing now, only looking down at him with a triumphant smirk. Dazed, Gala looked up at his childhood friend, right into his bright blue eyes. He had no idea what he should be thinking.

"I really hope you had a good reason for that, Songi," he said. Songi's smirk didn't fade.

"Oh, I do."

"Which is...?"

"Which is," Songi said, tightening the grip he had around Gala's waist, "I'm stronger than you."

Gala had to actively resist the urge to sigh.

"Really?" he said. "Songi, are you really doing this?"

"Really," Songi said. He straightened up slightly so that he was more sitting on Gala than lying on him, but still he didn't let him go. The situation was quickly moving from uncomfortable to just plain awkward. The next second, Gala was almost panicking.

"Get off me! Songi, I don't know what you're pulling here, but if you don't stop this right now-"

"Yes?" Songi asked. His voice was almost sweet. That infuriating grin never left his face for an instant. "What will you do, oaf?"

"I'll... I'll make you!"

Without waiting for an answer, Gala began struggling, pushing and kicking at the man on top of him with everything he had. Songi's face lit up, and he responded by putting more of his weight on Gala while lifting his face to avoid his flailing arms.

That was when Gala realized. He let his arms go limp, staring up at Songi in poorly hidden incredulity.

"You're just... screwing around."

Songi laughed again, more mockingly than before.

"Finally, he gets it!"

Gala could hardly believe it. When had been the last time Songi had grappled with him outside of training? Four years, at least.

He supposed the first thing he should've felt was annoyance. They were supposed to be adults, after all, and they were hardly on as friendly of terms as they had been as kids. But all Gala could think now was, once more, they really were friends again.

He supposed it was that thought which made him do what he did next. Just as a streak of lightning flashed from outside, so big and bright that it lit up the entire room, Gala suddenly brought both his hands up against Songi's chest and pushed, putting as much weight behind the movement as he could. Songi clearly hadn't been expecting this, at least not without some kind of warning, and he tumbled off the younger man without any real resistance.

Before Songi could have a chance to get his bearings, Gala threw himself at him and caught him around the waist, forcing him to the floor just as he had been only moments before. Songi gasped from the impact and raised his hands automatically to defend himself, and Gala responded by using his own powerful arms to counter him. Songi gave a low chuckle of amusement before his face grew semi-serious and he began putting some real effort into grappling.

It was just like when they'd been younger, tussling and play-fighting and, despite Biron's strict outlook on needless mirth, laughing like idiots. Gala didn't know why they were doing this or why he was enjoying it so much, but he didn't care right then. His childhood, the days of his comparatively carefree life and friendship with Songi, were flooding back to him, giving him amazing energy. If only he could've felt half as strong as he was feeling right now when he'd travelled with Vahn, Noa and their Seru, their journey would've been much easier.

The two of them play-wrestled for a good five minutes as the rain and thunder boomed outside. Gradually, Songi's slight height- and weight-advantage began to compete with Gala's superior fighting skills, and they became fairly evenly matched. Songi managed to get on top of Gala a few more times and keep him down for longer when he did, but Gala always managed to out-manoeuvre him in the end.

Finally, when their strength had all but been used up and they were both panting, Songi, who had just been pinned by Gala for at least the half-dozenth time, sighed and let his hands fall. He looked pretty sulky, but Gala had the nagging feeling he was trying to hide a grin too.

"I give up," Songi said. "Gala, you win. Now get off me."

Gala smiled weakly, but he didn't move. He was looking down at Songi, and he couldn't tell whether it was this or the fact that he'd just overexerted himself so much that was making his heart beat frantically and his face burn so hotly. Maybe it was both. His head was pounding too, and there was a strange ringing in his ears.

"Gala?"

Songi was looking up at him, more sceptical than annoyed now.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Later, Gala asked himself the same question, many times. But right then he didn't, nor did he answer his companion - not with words anyway. Barely thinking, nor wanting to, the former Master Teacher leaned slowly down and pressed his lips against Songi's, bringing his clammy hands up to grip him around the shoulders as he did so.

He'd never kissed anyone before; he had never really wanted to, and he hadn't ever felt a desire to do such a thing with Songi before now, but... Oh, he didn't know, and he didn't much care right then either.

He was surprised though, even as he deepened the kiss and most of his mind left him, how enthusiastically Songi responded, lifting his arms up and gripping Gala around the back of the head in order to push his face harder into his.

The kisses were clumsy and confused, but there was obvious passion and desperation there too. Gala had the feeling, even in his lightheadedness, that he and Songi were, right then, treating each other's lips much the same way a drowning man treated a floatation device - as lifelines.

Their breathing began to grow rapid and irregular, somewhat muffled behind each other's mouths, and Gala felt the last of any rational thoughts draining out of him as he squeezed and rubbed Songi's shoulders in turn.

Even through the fabric of his clothing, Songi's skin felt warm under Gala's fingers. Later, he likened the feeling of it to when he'd touched Songi's cheek the night before. That had been warm too, and the impulse behind his touching it had been just as crazy and unexplainable as the one he was following now.

A sudden, booming clap of thunder was what broke them apart about a minute later, though it had felt like they'd been kissing for a lot longer. Gala pulled back abruptly, his head spinning and his lips tingling. A strange warmness seemed to be coating him all over like an invisible blanket, and his heart would not stop crashing against his chest.

Songi's hands, which had been forced from Gala's head when the brunet had sprung back, fell limply to his sides, and his eyes and mouth - Oh God, that mouth... - were slightly open, denoting mild surprise. Mild surprise. Mild surprise. After what they'd just done...

Furious, his face flushing a brighter red than ever, Gala separated himself from Songi and sat heavily beside him, his back to him and his face in his hands. He had a horrible feeling Songi was going to try to put a hand on his shoulder, but mercifully, he didn't. Maybe he knew better than to try.

They were silent for a long time, the only sound the continued raging of the storm outside. And right then, Gala would've much preferred to be out there, in that storm, than in this room, with... that bastard.

"There's nothing I can say that will make what we just did all right," Gala said coldly at last, lifting his head from his hands but not turning around. "It was a mistake - a stupid, stupid mistake. And I have no idea why-"

"I know."

Songi sounded defensive. Gala could almost picture the familiar, stubborn expression that surely must be appearing on his face as he spoke.

"You don't have to tell me. I know it was a mistake."

"You responded pretty damn eagerly for a mistake," Gala wanted to snap back, but of course he couldn't. He had started it, after all, and he'd been the definition of 'eager' throughout the whole thing.

"No one can ever know about this, Songi," Gala said, finally turning around to face him.

He'd predicted Songi's expression perfectly. His blue eyes were slightly narrowed, and his lips - His lips... - were turned firmly down at the corners.

"Who would I tell?" Songi shot back in annoyance. "And why would I wanna tell anyone? It's... It's wrong. Not just because you're a guy, but because... come on, I could do much better than you."

Songi attempted what was probably meant to be a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace, and Gala didn't even try to return it.

"Good," he said instead. "Then-"

"Then I'll go" was what he'd been going to say, but Songi wouldn't even let him have that much.

"I'm gonna go check on the bird," he said. He stood up and strode out of the room before Gala could reply.

Gala stayed sitting for a few seconds, just staring blankly out into space. He wasn't even hearing the storm raging outside anymore, which for him was a big deal. Eventually though, he forced himself to get up and leave the room too. The last thing he wanted was for Songi to walk back into his bedroom and find him there. His ego was so big, he'd probably even think Gala was waiting for him.

He walked back to his own room, which unfortunately required him to pass by the main living area. He kept his eyes forward, determined not to look at his roommate, and luckily Songi seemed to have enough sense to let him pass unharassed. All Gala heard was a few chirps from their guest. Even as he kept walking and reached his room, Gala couldn't help noticing how happy the bird sounded. Had Songi been petting it? Maybe he'd been feeding it. Whatever he'd been doing, the bird clearly enjoyed being around him. Most animals did. Maybe that was why the red-head connected with them so much. He'd never had the same luck with most humans.

Gala walked into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. The loud bang was drowned out by another clap of thunder, which once again made the former Master Teacher aware of the storm. But still, he couldn't bring himself to be troubled by it - not much, at least. He was too busy thinking about other things.

I hate him. I hate his stupid face, his gutter-language, his laziness, his freaking narcissism... I hate him so much.

The thoughts were unbearable, not because they were particularly painful. In fact, in all the times he'd thought of Songi in such terms, this time probably hurt the least. They were painful because, try as he might, Gala just couldn't bring himself to believe any of them.

WHEW! Sorry if the ending of the chapter seems a bit poorly written. My writer's block was trying to sabotage me. But I can always go back and edit it later if I need to. :D Again, tips and such (and pointing out typos, grammar mistakes, etc.) are always appreciated! Thanks for sticking with this fic for so long. And take your time with the reviews, Rose and Hikari No Aijou; I know how hard it can be to get motivated to write stuff. XD *Goes shopping for more XD smilies*