Chapter 191 - 189: The Catch.

Chapter 191: Chapter 189: The Catch.

Honestly, Khobi should know better by now, so Binny skips the gentle wake up and goes straight to dropping his clothes on him.

Khobi jolts to with a start, floundering and wrestling with his trousers until he realises what they are.

​" Hey , what was that for?" he complains, slumping back into his pillows with a bleary groan. Binny has to wonder if maybe he likes running laps.

For someone who kicks up such a fuss about having to spend the first hours of his day trudging around the training grounds at pace, he sure dosen’t seem interested in avoiding it.

​"...Don’t you have a date?" Binny reminds him, peering down over him. Khobi cracks one red eye at him to glare at him. Binny deflects it with a grin, and it bounces right off.

​"Can you not say it like that?" he grumbles, without bite, "It’s a fight ."

​"Well, whatever it is, you’re going to be late," Binny hums evenly, and nods towards the bed when Khobi gives him a strange look.

"Loac’s not here."

​"What do you mean he’s not here?"

​"...Uh..." Binny’s not sure how much clearer he can be, "That he’s not here?" Khobi looks up from his pile of blankets, processes the sheets thrown back on the empty bed, and grabs the shirt Binny’s dropped on him.

​" Shit ."

​"You better hurry if you don’t want the Second to catch you," Binny points out, and Khobi flings him a sheepish look.

​"...So you heard about that." Binny rolls his eyes. He should be used to this to by now.

​"I hear about everything , Khobi."

​" Right ." Halfway through buttoning his shirt, Khobi stops to give him a pointed look, adding, "You’re coming too, remember?"

​"Oh right," Binny replies, even though it’s impossible he’s forgotten.

It’s all he’s been able to think about; the thing that got him through the nightmare of working the castle on a stormy day –the promise of being able to jump in that ring like a real soldier.

He dusts his hands off on his tunic and takes a preemptive step towards the doorway. It’s a good thing he stretched before he got here.

"In that case, I’d best get going."

​Don’t go easy on them .

​That’s what Khobi had said.

​Well, it wouldn’t do to disappoint his master, would it?

​"Wha –"

​"I’ve seen you running laps," Binny tells him impishly, "Let me tell you, I’d rather not be running them with you." He sneaks a look out into the corridor, checking the halls for signs of daylight starting to peak through the windows.

By his measure, dawn’s yet to break, but it’s not far off. "If I were you, I’d hurry." Khobi curses, trying to yank on his pants and scoop up his boots at the same time and failing at both.

​" Why didn’t you wake me up earlier ??"

​"Where’s the fun in that?" Binny snickers, lips curling into a grin and dipping his head in a brief and entirely unapologetic bow,

" See you down there ."

​He scarpers.

​It’ll be a close call, but he knows a couple of shortcuts.

​Behind him, he hears Khobi cursing.

​...

To Khobi’s dismay, when he finally pulls up to the training grounds, panting and hot despite the cold morning, Binny is already there and waiting for him; all chipper smiles, like he’d been there for ages.

​And he’s not the only one.

​Because, milling just beyond the steps, standing alone amidst a sea of soldiers, is none other than Loac Trent.

​And Loac Trent as Khobi has never seen him before.

This Loac is wearing the same drab leather armour as the men around him, and is rolling out the creaks in his joints; a light sheen of sweat dusting his brow, like he’s already spent some time warming up.

By all accounts he looks just like the rest of them, but it’s obvious even to the untrained eye that he is not the same.

The training grounds are a constant, messy sea, yet the space around Loac appears as a point of stillness in a world perpetually in motion.

The current of men shift and swirl as they flow in and out and to and fro, but they skirt around him like there’s some unseen force warding them off; holding them at bay.

Chest heaving and lungs burning from his mad sprint here, Khobi senses that same, heavy force, but to him it feels like gravity , and he can’t help but be caught up in its pull.

Strong foes have always had that sort of effect on him, and Loac has to be the strongest he’s ever faced.

​And this morning he’s dressed like he’s ready to fight.

​It’s only the second time Khobi’s ever really seen him dressed like this, and while it’s nowhere near the craftsmanship, nor the imposing colour palette of what he’d fought in at the tournament, he’s hard pressed to deny that it gives him chills.

​The worst part is that it really suits him.

​As if feeling a tug at his gravitational field, Loac glances over in his direction, and smirks when he catches Khobi staring.

​(Scratch that. The worst part is that he knows how much it suits him.)

​( And he wasn’t staring.)

​(He wasn’t .)

​(He still ducks his gaze, which definitely makes it look like he was.)

​Doubled over and huffing as he tries to get his breath back, he pretends not to see him approach.

Most people would take the hint and beat it, but not Loac.

No, Loac casually stalks over to him –the flow of soldiers parting for him as he goes –and settles in against the pillar beside him.

To some, it might look as though they’re old friends. Except that the leer Loac sends his way, and the one Khobi mirrors right back, are anything but friendly.

​" –Look who finally showed up," Loac remarks, tone combative and entirely gloating.

There have been a lot of people in Khobi’s life that he’s wanted to smack. Amazingly, none so much as this guy.

"What are you doing here?" Khobi grits out between pants, even though technically he was the one who told him to come here in the first place.

"...Training," he replies, too easily; too smoothly. It rubs Khobi in exactly the wrong way. "What else?"

"Like shit you are," he snorts back, enough breath back in his lungs that it feels safe enough to straighten up. At his full height he’s just short of eye to eye with Aomine. "What’s the catch?"