Isaiah felt most of his life as a speck in comparison to those he admired from the side lines.
When he was tested at the age of five, his parents were overjoyed to hear from the doctors of him possessing the genetic code of an evolved human. Great effort was suffused to bring about his ability as early as possible only for it to then be regulated for menial tasks. Thus, he learned to expect disappointment, to wander away from the touch that could bear ill intentions.
In spite of an ability many found menial, Isaiah carved it to a unique usage and was accepted on recommendation to Petell Academy. Finally, free from the looks harkened by regret surrounding him day after day at home. In this relocation he found sanctity in a group he viewed higher than God. They were giants allowing for him to remain by the sole grace of his ability to remain quiet yet wise, studious but malleable.
These giants navigated, carving pathways for themselves which happened to coincide with the others, but where did Isaiah fit in this area? He, through it all, remained undecided as to his own course. As months grew steadily less and the year progressed of their freshmen time together, Isaiah deviated from his usual course after club activities. Instead of passing under the shadows of the market, busy with smells of sweat and citrus, he chanced down another street. Lined on this street were several stores and shops for wares, but this late at night most had closed for the day.
All but one.
He never would have taken the glance if not for the unabashed grunts met with subsequent explosions of strength which shook the glass Isaiah peered through. Without entering, he caught sight of a disheveled boy, hair undone and draped near over his neck; back and front. His body glistened with sweat as they passed over the curvature to his trained muscles, bulging purple veins. However, what was more eye opening but the mangled look of his fists? Knuckles split in countless directions, blisters dotting the palms as well as the bite of nails squeezing deep into the flesh, all the while a hint of bone just near enough to send an observer hurling. The blood from these wounds splattered the shredded bag hung from the ceiling.
The haze surrounding the person was perpetrated by none other than the heat from his body and the exhalation of his lungs. Isaiah made to walk away, cringing at the thought of the pain, until he saw the boy swing again at the bag. The punch landed with a speed untold for an impact which dented the surface as well as a few layers further. From there, a barrage of dozens of punches were launched in succinct order pummeling the bag off its hooks all the while splitting it in half allowing its innards to spill over the mat already stained by the person's juices.
Yet, he did not stop. A built up inner rage exploded forth as his fists banged into the dying bag. There, Isaiah saw something else to this boy. It wasn't a disturbed belief in strength and training but a need, a desperate need to pursue that higher power. Before his eyes, Isaiah saw the essence of a person's existence.
Now, with the flick of Kage's head, his face once more penetrated Isaiah demonstrating that same immovable desperation. Where Isaiah saw a broken friend, what lay dormant in the palm of his friend was a cruelly sharp rock. As Kage hefted that rock, he measured the distance needed to strike it at this person. This person that witnessed saw him *weak, vulnerable, frightened*.
'Not ever again.
I'm not WEAK!
I can save her, I can save everyone, I have to, I will be STRONG!'
Then, in his moment of confusion, two blistering hot appendages warped themselves around Kage's back meeting at the curvature to his spine. A gesture which had no place in the despair molding itself from ashes in the remnants of Kage's heart. Therefore, instead of the known intention being perceived, all he recognized was the entrapment those arms meant to him. They were not to comfort him in his moment but to cease his movement, to bring him back to the past and forget the future.
Shoving Isaiah away, Kage scrambled to his feet tearing at the mud with his nails for leverage in his endeavor. Surprised, all Isaiah could do was stare longingly at his manic friend. A friend who evidently lost himself, unable to see Isaiah's effort to aid him. However, the rock that once dug deep in the boy's hand had been forgotten, now rolling in the mud as further streams came to drag the piece into the crust of the earth.
Before Isaiah situated himself Kage blasted out a question taken in more of an order. "WHY? Why are you here?" The boy's eyes pointed as wide as the tip of a needle. An opening given would be abused. A lie torn apart left dangling in the other's eyes.
Settling himself instead of pursuing Kage, Isaiah responded having checked his tone to be an octave lower than his commonly stoic pitch. "We've been wondering what you've been doing. You haven't spoken to anyone let alone replied to our calls. I… No, we wanted to check on you. So that's wh-
"Why did you come here?" Kage noticed him skirting around the issue at hand. He was far too smart for Isaiah to go through word play in order to calm him down. Only the truth could be given to have any hope of slowing the descent.
Isaiah straightened his back then continued in his almost hypnotic volume. "I talked to the priest at the hospital. He told me to go get you. So, I came here."
"How did you know I would be here? Have you been watching me?"
Isaiah maintained his steady voice making sure to slowly rise to Kage's height rather than jumping upright abruptly. "No, no one has been watching you. We've been waiting for you to come to us. That's what we've always done; it's what we should have never done." The strained grimace lasted for less than a second but Kage picked up on it then he learned of how far Bentley had gone in his explanation.
'Everyone knows.'
''Yes, everyone.''
'''No one must know. KILL THEM. '''
''I agree, do it. Beat their bodies black and blue until they forget.''
'Traitors, filth, muck, grime, shit, crap, the load of them all.'
"Kage? Are you alright?" Isaiah stood dreadfully close, just nearly placing his hands once again on him to rouse Kage from his daydreaming. He took several paces back returning to the caricature who faced the priest. His solemn gaze attempted to derive meaning from every microexpression conveyed, however, unbeknownst to Kage was the gauntness his own stretched face presented to Isaiah. Again his true self left exposed with the idol they were lied to about effectively gone. A fact which hastened the worry in Isaiah's heart.
Wiping at his face, hoping to hide the struggle beneath, Kage brushed away the question, "I'm fine" he muttered an octave above a simple whisper.
"If so, then let's go to my place. You can stay while we figure out a better situation. Everyone's already got your stuff-
"What remains?" The remark quieted Isaiah's pursuit. "All of it was burned to the ground, so what remains? What survived, I-saiah?" Grasping at the fleeting words he did produce an answer, the exact one Kage wanted while the other regretted.
"Lisa's bedroom… nearly everything there was hardly harmed."
"Then, nothing of mine?"
"No, a metal box in your dresser was intact. It's still locked tight, no one opened it; it's waiting for you, same with Lisa." The thought caught Kage in his mind, but briefly, as he pushed forward in breaking down Isaiah to validate the truth he knew resided there.
"You think I'm going to do something idiotic?" A slight inflection emphasized the final word of this question as if to mock the mere intention of such an idea. For once, this was the right choice, so how could it possibly be idiotic to continue?
Raising his voice, Isaiah shot down the very thought, "Not stupid, but stubborn. This isn't you and you know that. You wouldn't do something without weighing the options."
"And what if I have already weighed them? What if there is no other way?"
"Leave it to the police, or let us handle things for once-
"NEVER AGAIN!" Startled by his own outburst, Kage smoothed his speech, "Never will I let someone take a responsibility that is mine alone to bear! Never shall I have to entrust a person to keep their word… I won't leave this to anyone but myself. I have to save him, if I don't… then things will never be right."
Isaiah came closer, "What are you talking abo-
"It's my fault that this happened. At the hospital I overheard the detectives talk about it. They said that the man who set fire to our apartment was from some damn gang, the same one the both of us were practicing with…"
The two stood opposing the other, a silence echoing out from their breaths. Unbearable was the haze that sought to suffocate the remnants of Isaiah's stand.
Finally, it was Kage who broke this deeply disturbed air. "Why?" A craning smirk creeped from his lips, "Why are you stopping me?" It was a question Isaiah wished not to answer. If he did, then the truth would become all the more a reality threatening to destroy their bond. "You told me, just before I went into that bunker, that we're all chasing something." His hawkish stare returned yearning to peck at the remaining defenses to this boy.
"A dream," that's all Isaiah was, a boy.
"Love," the same one that broke down in near tears begging for something to prove himself. Prove himself to this person greater than them all yet just as weak. They had viewed him wrong all along and now there was no stopping the reality from setting in as fact.
"Strength," torment wrought the word making the pain all the more relevant for Isaiah to glimpse.
"I have none of this. I cannot accomplish a thing so that I am remembered." Kage's statement shot at Isaiah like shards of glass. In each word lay vitriolic hate not directed at the other but himself. It was the mounting hate that he had seen throughout his life, whether that was from his very family or the plague that infected everyone in the world. "But, too many are bound by a rooted laziness." His eyes squinted into slants ready to slice into steel at a moment's notice. The red hue to them developed into a darker saturation as time lengthened in their murky abyss. "I refuse to be remembered for the sin of sloth."
"But, can't you see?" Shouted Isaiah, his face weeping by none other than his own fearful nerves. "Haven't you realized how much different everything has gone?" Kage was taken aback by the assertion, he had never felt more so like himself than at this moment. "Ever since you met Daniel, you've acted differently, you were no longer brooding alone letting the rest of us talk. You became active, you changed for the better. Yet, something changed more, didn't it?" He shied away pretending to not know the certainty of the matter.
"After the bunker, something happened with you and Lisa. I don't know what but it looked as if your relationship had grown. I, we all, thought that this was good. You were happier as if you finally found a means to motivate yourself." The idea dwelled inside Kage forcing him to remember those memories, memories distorted by another presence. A demon lived within them manically calling out, scarring the faces of those he cherished. It needed to kill, to devour, and ruin all in its path. The voices returned beckoning this demon out until Kage concluded that it was not some demon.
It was simply himself.
"I can't let you do this, if you go, then you won't be the same. It won't be my friend who comes to us but something else entirely." The shakes took control of Isaiah's body. A dread filled the air as Kage knew it to be true.