kingdoms_of_auradon

From:

A limo. Weirdly Kyoko didn't seem to be in the memory, though the young boy in the black partially opened black V neck shirt over a white shirt, a cross necklace, and jeans. There was a man in a suit there. Two other people, with the look of guards, shared the back seat with them clearly trying to pretend they weren’t there.

"Oh!" Kyoko said. "That's teacher! And the Kuon boy!" She watched, wide eyed.

Kuon was staring out the window, looking bored. "Ka udon."

"It's chikara udon," his father corrected.

"Snack Ta Gure," Kuon offered.

"Yugure," his father corrected.

"Hohohoho-o"

"That's Hayashi Mokizai."

Flushing a bit, Kuon gripped the window and scowled. "I... just hate Japanese."

Behind his back, his father was fighting to keep his laughter silent. So far he was succeeding.

"In Japanese," Kuon continued, "why do characters that look the same read differently? Or words have different meanings? Kumo and kumo and hashi and hashi for example. The stingy personality of Japanese people who use one room as the living room, the dining room, and the bedroom really shows in the Japanese language." He flopped back in his seat as his father crossed his arms and his legs, looking stern and a little disappointed.

"That's not true, Kuon," he scolded firmly. "That's not stingy. It's practical. There's no waste."

Kuon huffed, sulking.

"Hey, Kuon. Why don't you learn Kanji... instead of calling it boring?" Kuon turned his face away from his father, who kept trying. "There's a lot to kanji. It's interesting."

"No thanks. Cuz.. it won't help a bit when I'm a grown-up. Learning the language of a small country like Japan. If I'm gonna learn kanji, I wanna learn Chinese."

His father doubled over trying not to laugh out loud. The guards were really trying to not exist, from their expressions.

Kuon glanced over, seeing him doubled over. "What's wrong, dad?"

And like that laughter became crocodile tears. "Uh... no... nothing..." Then the crying seemed more real. Over dramatic, but real. "I'm sad that Kuon isn't interested... This is the country your dad grew up in..."

Kuon looked alarmed and shocked. All pout was gone as he started to reach, desperate. But his hand faltered, hesitated, stayed in place. He stared at his father who had a hand over his face. "Fath... I... I'm s...." Kuon's voice became Kyoko's for just a moment. The stricken look, hers.

The man glanced between his fingers, but when he saw Kyoko there, looking afraid and devastated. at first his glance was curious, as if to see why "Kuon" stopped talking. But then concern too his expression when he saw her paralysis. Her pain. A look of sympathy on his face, a moment of compassion, and then... he reachd out and flicked her on the forehead.

She reeled back, at the moment not seeming much like Kyoko or Kuon. Mostly whoever it was in there just seemed confused and surprised. And confused.

The grin on the man's face was almost sadistic as he sat back. "I lied... you fool."

Kyoko/Kuon still looked confused, but a little less stunned.

"What's wrong, Kuon?" The name seemed to snap her back into Kuon fully. A confused Kuon, but Kuon. "I lied to you, teased you, and flicked my finger against your forehead." he pointed at Kuon. "You have the right to get mad and fight back. If you're a man... show your guts and fight back when someone gets at you."

Kuon blinked, still a bit stunned, but less hesitant. Less unsure.

His father grinned a bit as Kuon leaned forward a bit. Then h mad a bring it gesture and hope filled Kuon's face and eyes with a light flush. Like when he was waiting to see his father eating breakfast he made.

Kuon lunged to try and flick his father's head, but his father grabbed his arm and slid his face away. Then he chopped Kuon on the back of the head before letting the boy go.

"?! Why...?" Kuon asked, hands going to the back of his head as h stared at his father with wide eyes. "Why're you fighting back?! I'm the one who can fight back, right?!"

"You fool...When a man knows someone one is out to hit him, h's not going to let himself get hit without resisting. That's what weak cowards do. Your dad is strong." Despite still sitting, he seemed to loom large over Kuon as the guards exchanged a look. "Your dad only lets someone who's stronger hit him!" His eyes and bearing mad it clear he had no intention of losing or backing down."

"What the..." Kuon mumbled, shrinking a bit. "That's not fair..." Then, stronger, "You had no intention of letting me fight back from the start."

"What are you saying?" his dad asked, looking more relaxed again. "If you want to fight back, do it. Surprise attacks. Weapons. Whatever." He glanced at Kuon. "I give you special permission... because you're my son."

Kuon looked stunned again. "I'm... special? Really? I can really... do anything?"

The guards did not look amused.

"Yes," the father said, crossing his arms and leaning back. A picture of confidence.

"You'll... let me?"

"A man never goes back on his word. So.. don't worry."

Kuon stared at his father, something growing within him as his exprssion slowly evolved from hope to impish mischief.

The man opened his yes and glanaced over, then looked more openly, smiling. "You're... starting to look pretty good... you naughty brat."