The silence was long and deafening, a heavy stillness hanging in the air — as if the normal breeze had taken a leave of absence. Despite his assumptions, Jao ended up remaining quiet, and though Tatsuya quickly found his patience wearing thin, he dared not open his mouth and break the silence yet. He had decided on a course of action, and couldn't risk damning himself, so he swallowed back his words and kept his eyes on the man, whose stare was intense, eyes hard with an unidentifiable emotion — and at that moment, Tatsuya swore he saw something in the man’s eyes, then, it was gone and Jao sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
The change in action had him relaxing slightly — annoyance was preferable to whatever the fuck he had seen, or worse, suspicion — and, unsurprisingly, he was caught off-guard, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, when the ground below him rose to envelop him, leaving just his head free of the element’s hold. It was then he realised his mistake; for all that the Wind Blades were friendly and willing to help most, they were still a group of elite warriors. They weren't stupid.
The leader, Jao, had — whether through his own machinations or he had simply taken advantage of the spirit-given opportunity — taken Tatsuya away from the other members, potential hostages should the situation devolve, to a secluded area where he could freely act with no disturbance; where Tatsuya could be brought without arousing any suspicion; where the only thing protecting Tatsuya from direct contact with the ground was a flimsy, albeit soft and comfortable, cushion.
This wasn't some normal conversation; this was an interrogation, and Tatsuya had willingly walked into it. He didn't know whether to baulk at his stupidity or commend the man’s foresight.
“You expect”—Jao’s brows drew together and he frowned—“me to believe you saved Farah’s life, while also on death’s door, just so we can train you?”
Tatsuya would have shrugged his shoulders if he could, but he was as still as a statue and so settled for levelling a flat gaze at the man in lieu of a proper reply.
“Spirits, I wasn't born yesterday. Tell me the entire truth, or I will assume you are a spy and act accordingly.”
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Jao had just shown that he wasn't a foolish man; he must have known that air elementals had an instinctual awareness of the currents, through which they could sense movements (and thus, people), and most didn't need their extremities to manipulate the element — which, when combined, meant that trapping him, rather than immediately killing him, didn't mean the other members of the group were safe — so it was possible the man was banking on speed being the deciding factor.
Although the man didn't know he was skilled and, so, capable of sucking the air around him out or affecting another area that was within his control range (to a limited degree), Jao must have considered such a possibility and worked around it. After all, regardless of an air elemental’s considerable speed — due to using the element to augment their capabilities — there was none faster than a thought.
A single thought was all that was required to perform basic feats with one’s element, and, enveloped as Tatsuya was, it wouldn't take much effort to crush him before he tried anything. Even as his mood worsened, he could admit a part of him was impressed by the foresight, but the greater part was stuck between cursing at the spirits for his foul luck and cursing at Jao for being brilliant.
“For the last time, I will ask again.” There was so much pressure being exerted on his body, especially his bones, that it took all he had not to scream out loud. Still, he couldn't help the tears that welled up at the corners of his eyes, thankfully hidden from view by his bandages and lowered bangs. “Tell me the entire truth.”
They both knew he was well and truly fucked, and so, not willing to die, Tatsuya admitted the truth through gritted teeth.
“I want to kill Kuro.”
If he couldn't even defeat Jao, what hope did he have of defeating the bastard? And wasn’t that another sobering realisation? He wasn't even able to defeat the attack dogs, and though his condition had played a part in his retreat, the point still stood.
He chuckled quietly. “I wasn't lying when I said I needed training, but you can't blame me for withholding some information. If I told you I'm going after Kuro, you will send me packing. The best option, the only option I could think of, is to ask for training so I can do the deed myself.” His words were choked out in a barely audible voice, the strain of admission apparent. “I see now that I'm truly in need of it.”
As silence ensued once more in the tent, he could feel all the composure he gathered waning. At that moment; if he could dig his fingernails into his palms until they bled, he would do so; if his breathing wasn't hampered, his chest would have felt like it was going to explode with how fast his heart pounded; if he was stronger…
Taking strength in the currents ruffling his hair from the open flap, he forced himself to relax — as much as he could in this situation — and raised his head, levelling a look at Jao.
“I can tell that you suspect the training is also a ploy to gain your group’s trust so that I can convince you to help me kill Kuro, and I won't lie, it is — but believe me,” his voice was still quiet, but he tried to make it steady and determined as possible, almost daring the man to challenge his words, “if you train me until I'm strong enough to kill the bastard, I won't ask you to fight with me. I'll do it myself, and after I'm done, I promise I'll help you kill the king — I’ll willingly sacrifice myself to see your plans come to fruition.”
A pause to catch his breath, then;
“So, what do you say, Jao?”