Zero - Cover

Zero

Copyright© 2006 by Zep_

Chapter 1

Thad shoved his twin brother Theo into their bedroom wall as hard as he could, knocking the wind from the smaller boy's lungs. "Little fucker," he spat, "I know you did it. I know you've been telling her shit about me. Ashley said you didn't, but I know you did."

Theo stared death into the eyes of his brother, wishing he could fight back physically as well as mentally, and at the same time wishing that Thad were less of an asshole.

Thad smiled at his sibling's impotent rage. Theo never fought back. He was pissed at the little shit, but Thad loved the feelings he got when he hurt someone. His smile faded as he remembered how humiliating it had been when his girlfriend of almost two months had called him a sick freak in front of everyone in the hallway at school and dumped him earlier that day. It was the most embarrassing thing he had ever experienced, and he was certain his brother was the cause of it. He had really pounded the shit out of Theo two days before just for fun, and though Theo didn't retaliate physically, he usually found some other way to get back at Thad.

"This is a warning, fuckwad." Thad said, pushing Theo into the wall harder. "If you ever say anything, to anyone about what I do back in the woods, I'm going to break your arm." He dropped Theo, who was now gasping for breath, onto the floor and walked out of the room.

Theo rose slowly from the floor and pulled himself onto his bed. In a moment he had recovered his breath, but still he lied there, resting and thinking. He wondered for the thousandth time how two brothers who shared a womb for nine months, who had the same mother and father, could be so different. They weren't identical, but fraternal, twins which meant that they were born at the same time but didn't look alike. In fact, the two boys hardly looked like brothers.

Thaddeus Keiser was tall, muscular, and possessed of average intelligence. His hair was much lighter than Theo's, almost blonde like their mother's. He was also cruel. Theo had thought for most of his life that he was the sole focus of his brother's cruelty, until one day he had been walking in the woods behind their house and he spied the larger boy torturing a baby fox with one of their father's screwdrivers. Theo had been too shocked, and far too afraid to stop his twin. He had watched from behind some bushes in mute silence, petrified to move an inch until Thad had finished with the animal and left.

Theo, of course, had to look at it. What he saw changed his already negative view of his brother to something much worse, and sickened him almost to the point of vomiting. The little thing lay there still alive, a large hole in it stomach, struggling and making a pitiful sound that Theo would never forget, a sound which had haunted his dreams since then. He felt tears leaking from his eyes, and he knelt down next to it.

"Poor little thing," he said, openly crying now, "I'm sorry he did this to you." The little guy was shaking now, and blood started to come out of its wound faster. Theo knew what needed to be done, and he used a nearby rock to put the pitiful little fox out of its misery.

Theo cried some more, then made a grave far from the place where his brother had tortured the baby fox. He walked home through the forest in silence. He knew that he could never admit to Thad that he had spied on him or he would be beaten much more severely than was normal. He couldn't tell their parents either. Thad was their golden boy. He was a fullback on their high school's football team, popular with the girls, and very charming when he wanted to be. Their father had been a football player when he was a teenager, and he and Thad were always either tossing a ball around or talking about the sport. He had even seen them drinking a beer together once. Theo hadn't spent any time alone with his father since he was ten. That was almost six years ago, right before Thad had joined the local pewee football league.

Their mother wasn't much better. She doted on Thad, always commenting on how tall he was, or how muscular he was getting. She occasionally gave Theo a positive comment about his perfect grades, but these words of encouragement were few and far between. He felt like he was someone his parents tolerated but didn't really like, and certainly weren't proud of. He tried his best to keep from making waves with them.

Since the incident in the woods, Theo had gotten the feeling that his brother had somehow found out about his spying, but he was never quite sure. Now his suspicions were confirmed, though he still didn't know how Thad had found out. He didn't really care, as he didn't plan to make a habit of spying on him. It was bad enough the one time. Thad was right though, he had told Ashley about the fox. His brother's ex-girlfriend was a nice girl, even to geeks like himself, and he felt like he had to tell her because maybe someday Thad would graduate from hurting foxes to hurting girlfriends.

After a while Theo glanced at his watch, stood up and walked out of his room. He walked to the kitchen, noticing that there was nobody home except him. He drank a glass of water quickly, and then walked out his front door. He turned right on the sidewalk and walked to a small white house at the end of his street. He used the steel knocker attached to the door to announce his presence and then entered, shedding his shoes once inside.

"Tanaka-Sensei, it's Theo." The boy called as he entered. He walked down the hallway into the living room. A very old Asian man was sitting in a ratty avocado colored recliner, smoking a cigarette and watching TV. He looked up and smiled at Theo as he walked in.

"Theo, you're on time for once," said the old man. His voice was wispy, ancient, and carried a heavy Japanese accent. He motioned towards another chair, his recliner's twin, and Theo sat down.

"I'm always on time," replied the boy, smiling. It was true. He had never been late for anything in his life. But this was a game they played, a ritual performed each time the boy came over to visit, and it amused them both. In truth there was no set time for his lessons, but Theo had made a habit of coming over at 3PM every day after school and kept it.

The old man squinted at Theo's face, his already deep crow's feet becoming shadowy rifts in the process. "Tears, no? Another fight with your brother?" he asked kindly. Theo nodded, and no more was said. Tanaka knew about Theo's situation and didn't judge or preach to him about it. He just listened, and very rarely would offer a piece of advice. In turn, the old man would talk about his past. He would talk for hours about many things; the war that took all three of his sons, the famine that took his daughter. He talked about coming to America to find a better life when he was still a young man. Once, when he had had too many beers, the old man had sobbed and talked about losing his wife to cancer over twenty years ago.

Theo admired Tanaka and loved him like a father. The old man had been a farmer in Japan and then studied for years to become a medical doctor in America. He had retired eight years ago at the age of eighty, and now spent his days working on the rock garden he kept in his back yard. He also practiced the martial arts, which he had been teaching to Theo since he was ten.

"Shall we practice, Zero?" asked Tanaka. This was the pet name he had for his student. He had mangled Theo's name several times when they had first met and had never been able to pronounce it correctly. The old man had always had trouble with the English "th" sound. Theo didn't mind the nickname and even came to like it. Theo knew that calling someone a zero was an insult, equivalent to calling him nothing, but Tanaka didn't mean it that way. Theo remembered how his teacher's eyes had lit up when he told him about his older brother, a combat pilot for Japan in World War 2. He had flown a Zero, the attack plane favored by the Japanese, and one of the most deadly aircraft of the era. His brother had managed to kill thirteen other pilots, becoming an Ace, before his final mission in which he had crashed a plane loaded with explosives into an American aircraft carrier. Tanaka explained about how attitudes had been different then, and how the Japanese pilots believed they were dying for the glory of the Emperor. Despite his words, Theo knew that his teacher considered his older brother to have been a hero. Theo was proud to carry the name Zero because of what it meant to the old man.

"Hai, Sensei," replied Theo. Yes, Teacher. They walked into Tanaka's back yard, past his rock garden, and into a building about half the size of his house at the edge of his property. The building contained one big room, and when unlocked by the old man revealed a floor padded in thick rice mats called tatami. It was thicker than was usually found in a dojo, but Tanaka was old and didn't want to break anything when he fell. The walls contained several racks holding various weapons, a few of them ancient treasures brought over to America by Tanaka when he immigrated. Most of them, though, were merely wooden training tools made by Tanaka or Theo on an electric lathe in the old man's garage.

Theo turned on the lights and opened all of the windows for ventilation. It was a warm day and they would get hot while training. The old man and the young teen stripped to their underwear and changed into their gi's, traditional training outfits. They sat down opposite each other on the padded floor and stretched out until they were limber, and then slowly jogged around the walls of the dojo a few times until they were felt warmed up. The two practiced kicks and punches independently before moving into contact practice and from there to some light sparing. Throughout this, Tanaka gave his student instructions and corrected his technique several times. Theo felt good as he moved through this familiar routine, thinking about how much better he had become over the years. He had talked to other martial artists occasionally, and most of the time they would ask what rank he was. Tanaka did not believe in rank, and considered it nonsense. The old man had learned karate-do and kenjutsu, Japanese swordsmanship, from his father. It was uncommon, outside of a few expensive training schools, to use any kind of ranking system at the time when he was taught. There was only the teacher and the student. Some of the other martial artists had sneered at him when he explained this to them, but Theo didn't care. They could keep their green or blue or black belts. They were an invention of chain karate schools to make kids feel happy and to make parents believe they were getting their money's worth.

After practicing karate for about an hour, the two took a short break to drink some water and also to give Tanaka a chance to rest for a few minutes. He was an old man. They sat on a wooden bench that was the sole piece of furniture in the room and talked while the elderly Japanese got his breath back.

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