“Is that kid really in his underwear?”

Several taunting laughs came from a table close by. Kuzon groaned inwardly as children poked fun at him, and then turned to his bowl of soup. In all of its molding glory, the soup wasn’t very comforting.

Nothing but white noise surrounded Kuzon’s Squad’s cafeteria table, making their own silence eerie. Kuzon had been looking forward to finding his family for breakfast, but the frogs had insisted that each squad be forced to sit at one table at least once a week, so they would get to know each other. So far, no one had spoken.

Edward and Naruto were inhaling their ramen. The shinobi kept glancing up at the alchemist, trying to finish his food first (and failing), while Ed simply minded his bowl, unaware of Naruto’s challenge.

Ash poured his soup slowly from his spoon back into his bowl, watching as the watery clumps fell. “Sergeant Spiegel is mean,” he whined boredly.

Syaoran let out a grunt in opposition, tugging a string of noodles from his bowl. “Hardly. He’s a lot nicer than my last drill sergeant.”

The armored Alphonse nodded. “Same here. Compared to most, he seems pretty easygoing.”

“If he’s easygoing,” Ash fussed, “I’d hate to see the strict ones.”

“Yeah, you would,” Syaoran muttered darkly.

Kuzon let out a tired sigh just as his stomach began pleading for food. He looked back down at the soup, which seemed more capable of eating him than he was of eating it. “Is the ramen any good?” he asked hopefully

Ed paused, causing Naruto to rush faster in a mad attempt to beat him. “It’s better than the chicken noodle.”

Pazu, half-finished with his bowl, went pale. “It’s chicken noodle? I thought it was mushroom.”

Ed shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

Kuzon rolled his eyes, rising to his feet. “I’m going back for the ramen; at least I’ll know what it is that I’m eating.”

Syaoran stopped him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t bother. Frogs have a no seconds policy. You have to eat what you get.”

Kuzon stared back, as if staring long enough would change this rule. When Syaoran didn’t respond, he sat back down hard into his chair. “Well, that just figures,” he griped with arms crossed sulkily. “The whole world’s been out to get me since I got here.”

Syaoran glanced at Edward. “Newb?”

“Newb,” Ed confirmed, continuing his gorging.

Another round of pointed giggling came from a group sitting at a table nearby. A bald boy stood up; he was around three feet tall, wearing dark green clothing and goggles. He jumped onto said table and pointed at Kuzon. “Hey you, snot for brains! Can’t ya dress yourself without your mommy?”

The enemy squad guffawed with laughter. Kuzon glared, feeling his temper rise as he took the comment personally, more so than he should have. He looked at Edward, who (to Naruto’s disappointment) had finished eating.

“You want this?” Kuzon asked, pointing at his bowl.

Ed’s nose wrinkled. “Hell no.”

With a nod, the Firebender stood up again, lifted his bowl, and hurled it at the taunting boy. There was a sickening splurt, and the boy staggered back on impact as the bowl landed on his face. Soup began to slowly ooze down his neck and soak his clothes.

Now everyone had a new reason to laugh. Naruto nearly choked on his ramen as he chuckled giddily. Alphonse sighed, muttering something along the lines of “not again” as Syaoran looked away doggedly, his expression reading “I don’t know him.” Ash and Pazu shyly ignored the event.

“That,” Kuzon declared as he sat down, “is a good use of food.”

Edward couldn’t help but smirk. “Nice.”

Other than the souped boy flipping the bird and vowing revenge, the rest of Kuzon’s morning was uneventful. After Ash and Pazu had consoled their aching stomachs, Kuzon got properly dressed, and anyone who would need weapons gathered them, the boys headed off towards the arena. As they dashed down hallways and caught elevators, the group passed by people of all sorts of different shapes, sizes, origins, and heritage. Kuzon caught sight of more people in blue uniform, like Mustang. He saw more shinobi, like Naruto, marked as such by their headbands of blue, red and black, the silver strip across them inscribed with one insignia or another. He watched people carrying an assortment of weapons, from kunai and shuriken to magical artifacts and scrolls to heavily loaded artillery.

Reaching their floor, the boys darted to the wide doors of the arena. Kuzon stopped at the doorway and gaped. It wasn’t one big arena like he had pictured; the room was huge, with many lower platforms- smaller arenas- where people were sparring. He caught sight of a woman, fire literally burning in her gaze, dueling another man performing odd hand signs. Between the many battlefields was a yellow walkway, several feet above the many battlegrounds, this walkway at Kuzon’s level. He stepped onto it, looking into the lower boxes at the people battling.

As they entered the room, a warm feeling fell over the group, noticeably making them dizzy. Kuzon nearly staggered. “Whoa, what was that?”

Ed shook the feeling off as he explained. “The arenas all have spells cast on them- spirit world magic. It lets us use our powers in the arenas and test rooms. That feeling was your powers waking up.”

Kuzon grinned. “Sweet!”

“Hey, what’s sergeant doing?” Pazu asked, pointing.

Everyone turned. In one of the boxes were several girls lined up behind their own sergeant, who was arguing with Spike Spiegel. She had hot pink hair, cat-like yellow eyes, and carried a blue bass guitar that seemed familiar to Kuzon.

As they approached, the squad could hear their raised voices. “My girls are all here,” the woman was saying, “and we’re all ready to train; I don’t see why you can’t relocate.”

“Because this spot was reserved for us,” the man snapped. “You can’t just take whatever spot you want. Besides, I’ll have to wait for my group to get here before I can relocate, and that will just make things difficult.”

“This spot wasn’t reserved for you,” the woman shot back. “It’s for us.”

“Oh really? Let me see.”

The woman sighed heavily, pulling paper out of her leather jacket pocket. Spiegel swiped it out of her hand, and quietly read the daintily hand-written memo.

“HAH! Sector fifteen, arena ten, not four. You read it wrong.”

She snorted, wiping her nose on her knuckle, and playing with the booger she had gained. “Not my fault they didn’t write it in Japanese.”

“You’re the one who requested your memos to be written in English.”

“Your point?”

Spiegel groaned. “Dammit, Haruko, you stubborn-!”

She grinned mischievously. “Oh, I’m the stubborn one?” she bantered. “I’m not the one who refused to learn alchemy. You may be hot, hotshot, but even a hunk needs a brain.”

Her group of girls started giggling, while all he had in response was a quick “Don’t call me ‘hotshot’!”

“Sure thing, babe.”

“Haruko-“

“Cutie pie.”

“Dammit, this-“

“Hot stuff.”

“Stop-“

“Handsome piece of man meat; lemme know if you like one.”

“Enough!”

She took a step forward, a silly grin on her face as she jeered with one last “Lunk head.”

He scowled at her. “…b****y alien.”

“Aww, but I was calling you nice names.”

“That’s not the point. You need to move to arena ten.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell Yubabba that you disrupted my squad’s first day of training.”

Haruko snorted again, grumpily flicking the booger away. “You wouldn’t dare; she’ll get pissed with you, too.”

“Not as pissed as she’ll get with you.”

“Can’t you just go to arena ten?”

“No. I’m not sending my boys back and forth through the base while you get away with…well, everything! Just go; you’re all together and the arena isn’t that far away.”

She raised an eyebrow at his last comment “… arena ten is far away, dumbass! Five arenas away. That’s like, an elevator and lots of walking!”

“That’s six arenas away, and if you don’t shut up and get moving then our argument will be longer than it’ll take to walk there. I will tell Yubabba about this…”

Haruko pouted. “That’s because you’re a snotty, old, rules person!”

Spike crossed his arms, advancing so that they were face-to-face. “I’m snotty? Who just threw a booger in my face?”

“Oh great, now you’re a neat freak?”

“No! Quit being so argument-“

“Neat freak.”

“I’m not-”

“Freak neat.”

“Quit inter-“

“Freak-a-zoid.”

“I’m not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too, too!”

“Am not!”

“Children!”

Both sergeants jumped at the sound of Haku’s voice. They quickly turned to face him, and fell into swift, obligatory bows. “Haku-senpai!” they cried in unison.

Kuzon smirked. “Busteeed,” he drawled.

Indeed they were. Haku strode up to both of them, eyes narrowed sharply. “I expected better behavior from you two,” he snapped, “considering that you’re both role models for your squads. Can’t you settle just one argument?”

Spike shot Haruko a glare. “No.”

Haruko rolled her eyes pointedly, and then turned to Haku. “Is he going to win this one?”

Haku raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t he always?”

The alien threw her head back and whined, moping. “No faair… Alright, I’ll go this time- but if I beat you here next time, I’m not leaving. Deal?”

“Whatever,” Spike grumbled darkly.

“Good.” She turned to her squad. “C’mon girls, let’s go. Ja ne, Spike-senpai.”

The sergeant groaned at his colleague. “Don’t call me that either.”

“Don’t make me start the mean names,” she warned over her shoulder, her group following her out of the arena.

Spike groaned, rubbing his temples. “Thanks, Haku-senpai.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” the boy shot back, turning to leave. “Next time I catch you two fighting, I’ll have to report it.”

“Why?” Spike asked, both grumpy and whiny.

“Because it’s my job,” Haku muttered crossly.

Spike watched the spirit boy walk away, and then caught sight of his squad, watching him from afar.

“How long have you all been standing there?”

Kuzon shrugged. “For, like, ever?”

He stared at them tiredly, as if to ask why. He then started rubbing his temples again. “Okay, we’ve already wasted enough time, so let’s not waste anymore. Who wants to spar in the ring?”

Ed and Syaoran both raised their hands first.

Spike motioned for them to start, storming up to the edge of the mini-arena and sitting on its wall. The rest of the squad soon joined him as Syaoran and Ed both jumped inside, standing on opposite sides.

Syaoran griped the handle of his long sword, strapped tightly to his back, and glanced over his shoulder at Spike. “Is it okay if I use my sword? I mean, he can’t exactly block my attacks, can he?”

Edward grinned smugly. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

With this, Ed clapped his hands together fiercely, the clap seeming to echo. In a blaze of white light, the alchemist’s metal arm changed shape, a thin blade appearing over his silver fist.

Ash watched this with wide brown eyes. “Whoa…”

Kuzon slowly crossed his arms, watching with great interest. “Alchemy?”

“Alchemy,” Edward confirmed.

Syaoran was startled, but recovered rapidly. Now using both hands, Syaoran drew out his sword and charged at Edward. Ed charged as well, both meeting with a clash of metal against metal, their blades pressed against the other; Ed pushed his arm down hard, using the gained momentum to flip over Syaoran’s head, landing behind him. Syaoran anticipated this and wheeled around to strike, but Ed blocked the blow, his arm shaking against Syaoran’s strength.

The two fought on in this way at first, striking, parrying, ducking and striking again. Kuzon took mental notes, knowing he would have to fight them eventually; Edward was much faster than Syaoran, darting and jumping everywhere, but Syaoran was well adept to blocking and anticipating Ed’s moves. However, Syaoran’s stamina couldn’t compare to that of the alchemist, and as their sword fight went on, he grew sluggish, his parries coming so late that Ed’s blade grazed his cheek.

Once this had happened, Syaoran pushed Ed backward, falling to a wobbly stagger as he gave himself distance and caught his breath. His quivering fingers went to his back pocket, and he pulled out what seemed to be a rectangular piece of paper, Chinese words inked into the parchment.

“Wind summons!”

With this outburst, Syaoran cast the paper out before him, and caught its middle with the flat of his sword. Once his sword made contact, a harsh gust of air burst from the paper, soaring towards Edward. The alchemist had no time to dodge, and was flung to the other side of the arena, scraping his arm as he crash-landed.

Alphonse fidgeted next to Kuzon, concerned. “Hang in there, brother,” he called.

Ed groaned in response, sitting up as he clutched his elbow, which he’d used to keep his face free of damage. Syaoran was already charging towards him, sword raised to strike once he was in range. Before the sorcerer could reach Ed, he clapped his hands yet again, before smashing them open-palmed against the ground.

The light flew across the field between Ed and Syaoran, and in seconds, a wall stood in Syaoran’s way. It was thin yet sturdy, sloping upward from the floor of the arena, and blocked their view of the alchemist. Syaoran skidded to a stop, and turned to run around it, finding it wider than it was tall- in fact, the wall was only a few inches taller than Syaoran.

Once Syaoran had reached the corner, Edward had managed to climb up his wall. He crouched at the top, glancing over his shoulder, and turning to watch the obviously confused sorcerer run back into view.

“Behind you!” Pazu yelled.

Kuzon elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t tell him!”

Syaoran wheeled around in time to see Edward leaping, aiming a hard kick into Syaoran’s chest. Syaoran dropped his weapon, all the air knocked out of his lungs as he fell backward. He landed hard, cringing, and soon found himself on his back with Edward’s arm-blade resting against his throat, Ed’s foot still planted in his ribs.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Spike declared. “I think you two can pass.”

Ed smiled down at Syaoran, clapping his hands yet again, his arm bathing in the bright light. “You’re good,” he commented, and offered his ‘normal’ metal hand.

Syaoran smiled meekly back, taking his hand and pulling himself up. “You too.”

“Who else wants to fight?” Spike asked.

Naruto pointed at Ash. “Let me fight him- I want to see his pokyman!”

“He doesn’t have pokyman anymore,” Pazu reminded him.

Naruto’s shoulders dropped. “Oh… well, can I fight him anyway?”

Ash’s face burned painfully. “I… uh… I can’t fight yet.”

Spike peered down at Ash suspiciously. “Why not?”

The boy hung his head again, using his hat to cover his face. “I… dunno how.”

Kuzon shrugged. “Aww, it’s easy- you just make a fist and hit people with it. Or use fire,” he added.

“Or alchemy,” Ed added as he and Syaoran arrived.

“Or a jutsu!” Naruto cried.

Ash’s head hung lower. “Can’t I just skip this part for now?”

Alphonse sat up. “Why don’t you spar against me? I’ll go easy on you.”

Ash shook his head briskly. “No, that’d be even worse!”

Spike rolled his eyes and sighed. “Look kid, this isn’t a death match. You don’t have to win. Haven’t you had any fighting experience?”

Ash pulled his cap down low. “Not really… Not like this, anyway… I’m just…ordinary…”

“So am I,” Pazu said, “but I can still fight.”

Ash earnestly continued to shake his head. “But I can’t. I don’t know anything at all. I came here so I could learn.”

Spike sighed again. “Fair enough… Uzumaki, why don’t you fight Kuzon for now?”

Naruto nodded. “Alright; but, Ash, you’d better find me when you learn how to fight. Don’t back down from me, dattebayo!”

With this, Naruto leaped into the battlefield, Kuzon joining him shortly. Spike watched them leave, and then turned to Edward, looking mystified.

“Why does he keep saying ‘dattebayo’?”

Ed waved the thought off. “Some sort of Japanese thing.”

~*~

“Again?”

“Of course,” Guts replied.

Guy nodded, turning to the wide monitor before them and speaking as clearly as possible. “Computer, replay the video.”

The fuzz of gray switched to one of the dark hallways of the prison, viewed from one of many surveillance cameras. For a brief moment, nothing happened.

Then, out of nowhere, a swirling blue disc of light appeared, a low hum echoing from it. Guts jumped out from it and onto the floor, gasping for breath and he reeled in place. The portal closed behind him as he wiped sweat off his brow.

“Damn it all…” he cursed darkly to himself.

Gluttony suddenly came around a corner, the tip of his index finger placed in his mouth hungrily. He looked up at the medieval soldier.

“Guts? What are you doing here?”

Guts looked back, and quickly straightened him. “Guy sent me to help you with the prisoner,” he said quickly.

“Did I?” Guy commented crudely.

The real-time Guts shook his head. “This is so surreal… No matter how many times I watch myself die, I still can’t believe it.”

Guy nodded. “I’m sure you can’t, but I can; I just want to know why. This is a difficult case to solve… I may have to bring Reaper in to assist us. His sharp mind is the best for this sort of thing.”

“Who’s Reaper?”

“One of my most trusted advisors, as well as the person I enjoy annoying the most. He hates the nickname ‘Reaper’.”

“Why is that his nickname, then?” Guts continued absently; even during their conversation, his eyes remained glued to the screen, which switched to different camera views of him, walking with Gluttony to fetch Zuko.

“Because, point one, it annoys him, and point two, it fits him. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him.”

“Right…”

They fell into silence, focused on the video. Guts stared at himself, a sickening churn in his stomach, as he didn’t recognize going through such actions. He’d hoped that searching for clues would be less painful.

“This is unbelievable.”

Guy raised a hand. “Hold up, what did you just say?”

“I said it’s unbelieve-“

“No, no, on the video.” Guy said. “Computer, fast backward, turn up the volume, and play at frame 2:04:53”

The computer followed his directions, and soon Guts’s image was snapping gruffly to the homunculi “That’s enough, Gluttony. We’re not allowed to tell him anything.”

“But he’s about to die anyway…” Gluttony insisted.

“Pause!” Guy snapped; his eyes had suddenly narrowed and grown livid, transfixed on the now frozen video.

“What?” Guts asked, startled. “What did I say?”

Guy glanced at him darkly, lower lip curled in both a menacing and thoughtful way. “Don’t you sense it?”

“Sense what, sir?”

“How out of character you are,” he said, “how cautious. You’ve never cared for rules and regulations before, especially those that are unnecessary. You hate them. Why use them now?”

Guts shrugged. “I wouldn’t know… Maybe my character changes from now and then.”

Guy raised a provoking eyebrow. “You really think so? You don’t look much older.”

Guts turned to the video wearily. It was true; other than a few more wrinkles and a more tired expression than usual, his future self wasn’t too different- a year older at most, and even that was hopeful.

So why would I do that, then? Why would I follow a stupid regulation I don’t even care about?

Well, it’s not like I hate regulations with a passion- I can follow orders. I just don’t see the point in them when they’re not needed.

Awe struck him, and he turned to Guy, eyes wide. “Wait, you don’t think-?”

Guy nodded, eyes targeted on Zuko. “I’m certain of it. The only time you would follow regulations is if they’re necessary, right? The reason you stop Gluttony from explaining everything is because you, in that moment, know that it is necessary. We have that regulation incase someone were to escape, and spread information about the drifting rift.

“Zuko is going to live… Zuko is alive.”

Guts blanched. “But sir, that’s impossible! I saw it with my own eyes and you did it yourself; you sent him to the gateway! You swore there was no way-“

Guts looked from the video and back to Guy in shock. “What do we do? Can’t we fix this? Can’t you cause another paradox to kill him in a different way?”

Guy sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “It’s not that simple, Guts. I’ve made far too many paradoxes in the drifting rift already; any more could risk an overload, and the rift will collapse, cease to have existed. I can’t paradox him in either of his past worlds, either, or I could lose the boy, and knowing the tactics of the universe, this is my only chance of having this boy exist. I’ve been pushed into a corner, Guts. If I could save you, I would, honestly, but it’s simply too big of a risk.”

Gut’s hands clenched tightly. His need for vengeance in killing Kuzon had grown significantly.

Guy hissed another deep sigh. “Well, we’ll just have to figure out how he could have lived… Damn, how could he have lived? Did that… did the truth pull something, or is there something about The Gate I don’t know? Or maybe you only believe he’ll live at the time, by some rumor- from watching this now, even? A double paradox? Or could it be another reason?” He growled deeply. “My, this is just ridiculous. My, oh my- I’ve been pushed to a corner… and of all people, Zuko has done it.”

~*~

End part two

Creditz: Gizmo from Teen Titans; Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist; Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop; Syaoran Li from Cardcaptors; Pazu from Castle in the Sky; Naruto Uzumaki from Naruto; Ash Ketchum from Pokémon; Haruhara Haruko from Fooly Cooly; Haku from Spirited Away; Guts from Berserk

Kuzon is a character I created, based off of Teen Titans and Avatar. Guy is also a character I created, but his origin will not be revealed until the end of the book.