His Other Half (KiriBaku)

Chapter 12

September 29, XX84
-The Cour's Dining Hall-

        A bath did Eijiro well, and he reentered his room to find clothes stacked on the bed with a note from Inko. The clothes hadn't come from this Tetsutetsu man she had spoken of, but they had been stolen out of a shipment that had been meant for him. Ei admitted he had some twisted morals, but if the other man wasn't using it, it wasn't his, the redhead wouldn't return it, and he owed no favors.

        He then had to admit to himself that if everyone abided by those rules, his prince would be married and his things would belong to someone else by now, so he decided to work on his thought process.

        The clothes were very similar to the ones he had been wearing when he was captured by the guard, so they weren't difficult to put on. A white shirt, brown pants, a simple black vest, a belt for his dagger, and buckled fighting boots. Eijiro stared at the shoes for an unnecessarily long periods of time. When was the last time he'd worn  shoes? They didn't look very comfortable.

        Putting them on, he was caught between two realities. While they made his feet feel bigger and less coordinated, he no longer had to worry about rocks or glass or other hazards. But they were so loud, and they clicked against the floors, and--

        Hating the noise-making immensely, Eijiro found a sheet of sandpaper on the desk and whittled at the edge of the new heel, creating scuffs and ridges that would hopefully dull that ungodly noise. Anything else, he could deal with, but not when his presence was being loudly announced to every creature around the corner.

        Satisfied that his idea had worked well enough, the gladiator tied back his bright red hair and left his rooms, trying to remember the route outside. He could use the balconies, he supposed, but that would attract quite a bit of attention. The hall to his right ended in a dead end to everyone but the maids, who knew--

        But Eijiro knew the secret paths, too. And now, he even remembered how to get in.

        There was a tapestry hung above a table on the wall at the end of the hall, a story about dragons that Eijiro had to remind himself to read later. His fingers reached to the underside of the table finding the panel that moved, and sliding it left.

        The wall made a popping sound that the fighter's ears registered at once, his eyes flicking to the wall right off the tapestry. It hadn't seemed to move, but it gave way with a simple push when he stepped through. Cool, he awed.

        Navigating the tunnels was like detangling a web of twisted memories inside his head. He knew instinctively which ways to go, and even thought he didn't remember why he knew that, he went with it anyway. He ran into a single pair of maids as he walked, which ran away screaming 'monster!' before he'd even said hello. Rude.

        It didn't take him long to reach the side door that led out into the gardens, a quick sprint across the courtyard from the Colosseum. There were already noises of preparation and revelry going on inside, and once inside the looming marble structure, Eijiro found he could no longer go hidden. Competitors swarmed the area, occupying every hallway, doorway, open space, conversing freely with one another, mediating, challenging. It was almost friendly, if it weren't for the dim threats hidden in their eyes.

        There were more people in the dining hall, but he was far too preoccupied by the sight of food to be worried about them. There were pigs, whole roasted hogs slathered in sauce and vegetables, eggs of every variety on every surface, cooked birds far larger than the chicken he had stolen oh so long ago. And this was breakfast, a meal that Eijiro had gone without for so long.