Zumi: The Tiger and The Bat

Chapter 5: Soulmates Part Two

A/N: This chapter was edited by crossoverLIFE19

Damian's pov:

Hazel eyes haunt my memory - day and night, every blink reminds me of that darken alleyway and that annoying girl. Just as my thoughts begin to wander, my door swings open at a gradual pace. Snapping my head over to gaze at the intruder, familiar shade of emerald greets me.

"Lord Damien, your grandfather wishes to see you," my grandfather's servant spoke, ducking her head and quickly closing my door.

I sneer at the mere thought - the only visitors I ever seem to get are stuck up assassins wishing to 'teach me something'. No matter, I force my feet to guide me through the familiar halls, only pausing a moment to push in Grandfather's door before moving to stand beside Mother. To my surprise, there's nothing out of place. No smug adults peering down at me, other than family, and no suspicious glare hiding in the darkest of corners. I scan the room once more until I meet the hazel gaze of a girl my age. Hidden by Mother's figure, I don't see how I could've missed her. A glare settles in my brows, and I watch as this stranger simply raises one back. Sneering, I fix my attention to Grandfather.

"Who is she? And why is she here?" I demand.

"Damien, this is Zuri. She will be staying with us for a while," My mother responds, her words soothing - hiding the warning within her assurance.

I say no more, in concern of my mother's actions, but glare at the girl once more. Her stance is all off - this palace is constantly surrounded by elite warriors, yet she stands with slouched shoulders and a fragile position. She's no fighter, so what importance is she?

"I want you two to be back here by midnight," Grandfather orders, and his words force my attention back on him.

However, he isn't the one to give the next instruction. Mother moves forward, placing one delicate palm on my shoulder, and the other on the girls. She walks us out the door, quiet clicks the only sound she makes. As the door closes behind us, I feel her hand move off of me. Looking back, all I get is a simple glance to the girl before Mother struts away. I sneer but move to grab the girl's arm, beginning to drag her forward.

"What are you doing?"

As the words spill out, I feel her pull back her arm - yanking it out of my grip.

I growl, turning to glare at the intruder. "For you to know; Mother wishes for me to show you around. I'm sorry you didn't seem to realize that."

Not bothering with a response, I move through the halls again. If the annoying little girl doesn't follow, it won't be placed on my shoulders. Glancing beside me, it seems that won't be a problem anyway. She walks beside me, almost quieter than Mother on a bad day. Impressive, but she needs improvement. We stop at her room, a temporary guest wing; hopefully. I open the doors, moving inside before she can. I wouldn't know if that was due to the annoying familiarity that reeks off the girl, or the potential threat that could lie in any of these rooms. One wrong move and a blade can go through someone's head. Only when the coast is clear, do I look back at the girl. She's unpacking, seemingly no care in the world as she finds the perfect spots to place her stuff down. I don't care for her home-ways, but the glint of a familiar medal hidden within one of her bags captures my attention.

"Do you even know how to use these?" I ask.

"Of course," She snaps, glaring at me as she moves the bag away from me. "Back home, I did karate classes and tournaments. I was the only girl in the class."

So, she has a little fight in her... but where does her dependence lay? A smirk creeps its way forward; a little twitch at the side of my lips the only sign to observers. With seconds to ponder, I grasp one of the ninja stars strapped to my waist and, with a simple flick of the wrist, send it flying across the room. Seconds before the piece of metal could lodge into its target, the girl snatches it out of the air. We sit in silence, waiting for someone to make the next move. I can see - as I widen my stance and square my shoulders -her calculating every move as she tenses her muscles. A strange sort of pride swells in my chest, and I bury it beneath all the training I've overcome. An Al Ghul has no pride to weaken their mind.