Someday, Somewhere, Somehow

At long last, Chapter 2! It's about half the length of the first chapter, but I actually had a decent stopping point this time.

So there you have it, and I sincerely hope there are still at least a few people out there interested in reading this travesty. XD Once more, please enjoy and don't forget to review!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lunch period was almost over when suddenly, Houjun shot out a hand and shoved his ember-haired friend under the table.

“What the hell—”

“Shh! Stay down!”

Genrou eyeballed him from under the lunch table like he’d grown an extra head, or maybe two. “What? What is it?”

Rather than provide and immediate answer, Houjun peered across the cafeteria, straining his eyes to confirm what he knew he couldn’t possibly have seen. “Oh hell,” he muttered. “It’s really him. Ayuru.”

The boy he’d forced into hiding tensed, and automatically tried to get up so he could look. Houjun held him down with a rigid grip on his shoulder.

“Stay under there, damn it!” he growled softly. “If he sees you, we’re both dead, you for obvious reasons and me for hanging out with you!”

The strained atmosphere wound even tighter when cold, blue eyes swept over the heads of the crowd and met narrow, mahogany ones. Houjun’s first thought was to look away quickly, but he hesitated a moment too long, and then Shin Ayuru was stalking his way.

The first words from the tall blond’s mouth were chilling. “I know you.”

“Oh?” the azure-haired teen joked. “How unfortunate, no da.” Inside he was panicking. How did the Serpents’ leader know him? He’d never shown any of that gang his face!

That icy expression neither waned nor faltered in the slightest. “Your home is not far from mine. I’ve seen you out walking some mornings, before sunrise.”

The addressee stopped himself from visibly relaxing. So, Ayuru only had an inkling of who he was; he had not identified him as the helmeted fighter in Genrou’s group. Even with that knowledge resting safely in his mind, it was still unsettling that someone knew his morning routine. He’d been sure no one else in his neighborhood woke as early as he did.

“Well,” he said lightly, “It’s nice to know one’s neighbors, but I think I hear the bell, no da. I need to get to class, na no da.”

Then, the most frightening thing happened. Ayuru smiled. All right, perhaps “smirked” was a better word for it, but it still involved the same facial muscles. “You are Ri Houjun, are you not? A teacher instructed me to come to you if I needed assistance with anything, and since the bell has indeed rung, perhaps you could show me where my next class is.”

“You’re going to school here!?” Houjun nearly smacked himself for blurting out such an idiotic question. Of course he was attending this school; otherwise he would have no reason to be here. Still, why now? He’d lived in the area for as long as Houjun had, so why start at Fushichou now, in the middle of the year?

Ayuru raised a golden eyebrow. “I should think that would be obvious. But it seems the staff haven’t informed anyone as to why so many new students have come here. The school I previously attended burned down when the chemistry lab caught fire after hours. The principal suspects arson, but no one knows who’s responsible. But I digress. All the students from that school who lived on the east side of the highway were transferred to Fushichou.”

“Burned down?” Houjun’s brow furrowed as he recalled the newspaper saying something about a school that had caught fire. “You mean Ryuujin Private Academy was your old school?”

“Yes. I must confess, the public school system has me at something of a loss. That’s where you come in, isn’t it?”

The shorter boy swallowed, trying to wet the desert that had sprung up in his throat. He had been avoiding his teacher-imposed duties all day, and he had gotten away with it because the new students were mostly too shaken by foreign territory to protest when he waved them off. This time, however, he was truly and inescapably caught. If he tried to dismiss Shin Ayuru, he might end up a quivering pile of Spaghetti O’s. Spaghetti O’s with meat. Was he scared? Yeah, maybe just a lot. You’d have to be plain old stupid not to be scared of a guy who was rumored to have broken the face of a grown man just for looking at him wrong (and to be fair, the rumors couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing). Was Ri Houjun going to show fear? Hell no, but he could not be blamed for doing a decent impression of gelatin on the inside.

He debated taking a chance and telling the blond he had no time to show him around at the moment, “important test in my next class, can’t be late, you understand.” His sixth sense told him that would be a bad idea, though, so instead he offered a barely strained smile and a nod. “Sure, I’d be happy to help you, no da.”

“Actually, Houjun-kun should get to class. How about I help you out instead?”

The two teens looked over in surprise at Taka, who had been readying himself to leave when Ayuru had shown up. It was not so much that a teacher was offering to help that gave them both pause. It was the tone in which the offer had been made. The substitute gym teacher sounded almost hostile, and the way he was looking at the blond boy was akin to the way someone might look at a dog they weren’t sure wasn’t rabid.

Ayuru returned the look with mild confusion at first, then with irritation. Nevertheless, cooperation was in order if he wanted to be on time for class. “Very well, then. Lead the way, Sensei.”

Taka escorted him out of the cafeteria with the air of a probation officer escorting a criminal. Genrou poked his head out from beneath the lunch table to watch them go, his features showing the same surprise and puzzlement Houjun was sure rested on his own face.

“What the hell was that about?” the redhead asked, fiery eyebrows raised so high they blended with his hair.

That was an excellent question. Too bad Houjun had no answers. Juan or Ryuuen were better at reading people and situations, but they had cleared off earlier and thus were not available for their opinions. “If I had to venture a guess,” he offered finally, “I’d say Taka-sensei doesn’t like Ayuru any more than we do. Though I can’t begin to deduce why, so don’t ask.”

“Huh,” was Genrou’s eloquent summary of the whole business. He scratched his head once, then stood up and stretched. “No use worryin’ about it now. We gonna go to class, or do ya want ta skip the rest and get outta this place?”

The mahogany-eyed teen turned an almost impish smile on his friend. “What do you think? Let’s go before anyone catches on.” Besides, he thought as he and the rowdier youth made swiftly and surreptitiously for the parking lot, we need to come up with a plan of action. I can’t avoid Genrou for the rest of our high school careers.

An enemy was on their home turf; that meant nowhere was safe anymore. Houjun didn’t even want to think of the things that could happen if the Serpents’ leader discovered one of his foes lived less than ten minutes away. He could send his gang into Houjun’s neighborhood, tell them to harass or even hurt his family. He could try to use the blue-haired boy as a weapon against his friends; hell, Ayuru might even try to force him to leave them so the Redbirds would be down one potential threat—

Houjun paused in his thought process, one hand on his motorcycle. Wheels were turning in his head slowly, but they gained speed as he stood there. What he had in mind was risky for certain, but it would solve a lot of problems if it went right.

“What’s on yer mind, ‘Jun?” Genrou prodded, noting his grave, thoughtful expression.

“I think....” The blue-haired teen gave his friend a contemplative glance. “I think we should let Ayuru see me with you.”

The redhead gawked. “Are you fuckin’ insane!? He’ll hunt you down and kill ya!”

“No,” Houjun replied. “I don’t think he’ll do that at all. Ayuru’s too conniving to just skip straight to destroying an enemy. I think he’ll try to use me first, to get to you.” He began to smile grimly. “I think we should let him.”

Genrou opened his mouth to protest severely, but then he hesitated, and the look of dawning comprehension on his face indicated he was catching on. “Ya mean a spy. Ya think we oughta stick a spy in their ranks, and ya think it oughta be you?”

“Think about it. I’m your friend, so you trust me. I’m his neighbor, so I’m an easy target. I’m convenient, and I know you well enough to hit you where it will hurt the most. Of course he’ll come after me when he finds out we’re connected.” He was speaking more easily now, the idea still frightening, but becoming clearer. “But we’ll still have an advantage. Remember? He’s never seen my face at any of our showdowns. He’ll most likely try to threaten me during daylight hours, because that’s when I’ll be accessible. At night, however, I can work a different angle. If I can keep them from finding out that Ri Houjun and your ‘silent, helmeted gang member’ are the same person, I’m sure I can infiltrate their ranks using that alternate persona.”

“That’s…nuts,” Genrou muttered, wide-eyed. He looked as though he would say more, paused, and closed his mouth, adopting a contemplative look. “It might work, but yer ass would definitely be on the line, ‘Jun. If ya lost yer helmet for a single damn second, The Serpent’s would find ya out, and most likely, they’d tear ya apart.”

“I know. But if it gives you and the rest of our friends an edge in secret, it will be worth it. Besides, if Ayuru thinks I’m cowed by him, he won’t bother us as much at school.” Houjun gave his comrade a wry smirk. “He strikes me as the type to get bored with people once they’re no longer a threat.”

“An’ if you’re wrong?”

“Then at least we know he won’t murder me in front of the whole school, and if he comes to my house I can just refuse to let him in, or even call the police. We should have a little time to come up with a Plan B if this backfires on us.”

“Fine,” the redhead conceded, “but if ya get found out while you’re with him and his gang, you’ll be in serious shit. If I’m gonna let ya do this, then first ya have ta agree ta get the hell out if things go south. Deal?”

Houjun grasped the hand Genrou stuck out, sealing the promise. “I swear. If I think for a moment I’m in more danger than I can handle, I’ll bail out and not look back until I get to someplace safe.”

Genrou sighed noisily, still not completely happy. He might have come off as a morally-bankrupt punk to his teachers and even his own family at times, but he cared deeply for his friends. He hated the thought of any of them getting hurt when he could do anything to prevent it. Houjun was walking deliberately into a powder keg, and one mistake, no matter how slight, could be the spark that set it off. “You’re an idiot, ya know that? It’s gonna get you killed someday.”

“I doubt that,” the taller boy said with a smirk. “My luck is terrible, but it’s not the kind that will kill me. Relax; once we figure out how to get the Serpents off our backs for good, we won’t have to worry about much else.”

“I hope you’re right. I really do.”

“Trust me,” Houjun told his friend. “It will all work out fine.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The house was usually quiet when he returned early from school. Before entering on his truant days, he was always careful to check that his mother had gone to visit her little social group as usual, and that his father was still at work. It was rare that he came home before 3:30 to find stirrings of life in that place…but it seemed today was going to be one of those rare days.

He had only meant to stop long enough to duck inside and get a little money for wherever he and Genrou planned to go in lieu of school, since he didn’t like carrying more than forty at a time on him, and he’d spent his self-allotted amount a few days ago. He hadn’t meant to be seen. He hadn’t expected to be apprehended by people who were not supposed to be around before four or five in the evening.

Houjun (with Genrou, who had accompanied him there) had barely entered the front room of the house when, as if from nowhere, a hand fell on each of the boy’s shoulders.

“Houjun, you’re home early. Was today a half-day?”

Both teens gave a violent start, and turned quickly to face the woman who had spoken: Houjun’s mother. The blue-haired teen cringed inwardly. A lie, he needed a lie, and he needed it now, or she’d realize she had caught them skipping red-handed!

“Ah, well, actually,” he said, fumbling for the needed lie, or at least a believable half-truth, “My friend Kou Shun’u wasn’t feeling well, so I told him I’d make sure he got home all right, no da.” He fought back a grimace when he realized he had let the “no da” slip in unintentionally again. Usually he had better control of where that quirk landed; perhaps seeing Ayuru in the lunchroom still had him rattled.

His mother eyed him with concern and a hint of suspicion, like she knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Genrou eyed him with a hint of murderous intent, for using his hated birth name. Houjun ignored that for the time being. He hadn’t thought it wise to use his friend’s nickname to his parent, and he would explain that to the redhead later if he had to. Somehow, he didn’t think his guardians would want him hanging out with a young man who called himself “phantasm wolf.”

After another minute or two, the suspicion faded from the woman’s face, and she smiled at the boys. “Well, it’s nice that you’re here. I was thinking of coming to get you, actually.”

“Why?” Houjun asked, confused. Since when did his parents seek out his company on purpose?

His mother’s smile brightened further, surprising her son yet again. “Come to the kitchen, and go ahead and bring Shun’u-kun with you. There’s someone you need to meet.”

The teens shot each other bewildered glances, and followed her. In the kitchen stood Houjun’s father (yet another surprise; Houjun had thought nothing short of a family death or the house burning down would bring the man home from work early), and he appeared to be sharing tea with a guest. That guest turned toward them when they entered, and both Houjun and Genrou felt the hairs on the napes of their necks stand on end.

“It’s a sand witch!” Genrou blurted before his friend could think to stop him.

Houjun was strongly inclined to agree. The person standing with both his parents now on either side of her was a short and very old woman, and her face showed her age to a rather extreme level. She glared at the outspoken redhead with eyes like black pin-pricks on half-circle-shaped fields of white, and her scowl turned the deep lines around her mouth and eyes into trenches. She did greatly resemble some kind of dried-up hag from oriental legend, and Houjun had trouble refraining from to the urge to either laugh hysterically or shrink back in horror at the hideous look she was leveling at his friend, and since he was so near, him as well.

“Son,” the taller youth’s father said sternly, “this is your great-grandmother on your mother’s side. She’ll be staying with us for a while. Be polite.” This last was said with a subtle edge to it. The man did not believe for a second that his adopted child would behave like a mature human being, and he was probably already thinking of a good punishment for what he presumed to be inevitable mischief.

“Grandma Taitai has been living in China for a long time,” Houjun’s mother pressed. “We’re all going to have to be helpful while she readjusts to Japan.”

Living in China? Houjun thought incredulously. Living where in China, in some remote, rural home for the elderly? Why haven’t I ever heard of this person before? She could have called or written by now if she actually gave a damn.

He grinned and bore it, though, because his father was giving him a positively stony look. “Pleased to meet you, no da. I hope our home suits you.”

“Hrmph,” was the old woman’s assessment of the whole situation. She looked distinctly displeased still at having been called a witch, and Houjun had a nasty feeling he and his recently discovered relative were not going to get along, particularly if she already hated his friends.

“Ah ha ha…I think I’ll see my friend to his house now, no da,” the mahogany-eyed youth announced, shoving at Genrou’s shoulder to get him moving. “I’ll be back later, no da!”

“Oh, but—” His mother paused in the middle of her protest, and then loosed a soft “huff” of resignation. “All right, but be back by seven. I want us to have dinner together.”

He didn’t bother to answer. He just herded Genrou out of the kitchen and straight on out of the house, without looking back for a second. Once they were outside, he grabbed his motorcycle helmet and jammed it over his head with a quiet, angry grunt. Why was this happening? His parents could barely stand to remember they had a son, let alone other miscellaneous relatives! It was enough to endure the anger and disappointment of his guardians. He didn’t need some grouchy old hag interfering in his life too. And if he knew anything about his luck at all, that was exactly what “Grandma Taitai” was going to do if he let her. Then again, maybe he’d see some good fortune for once, and the ugly bat would be content to pretend he didn’t exist.

Maybe I don’t exist, he thought wryly. For all the warning my ‘dear mother and father’ gave me about this, I might as well not even have been around.

“Hey…you okay, ‘Jun? You were doin’ that ‘no da’ stuff again.”

He looked at the other teen; Genrou appeared genuinely concerned, which was a more common expression on his face than most people knew, but still not one Houjun was entirely used to seeing. He sighed. “I’m just irritated as hell. Why would they do this? Inviting some strange old woman to live with us, without even telling me; it makes me realize how little they must really think of me. What did they think I was going to do if they told me first, Genrou? Throw a tantrum? Kick holes in our walls, shave my head in rebellion? Or maybe they thought I’d run away, something juvenile like that. It makes me sick.” He clenched his hands around the handlebars of his bike, and his shoulders hunched. “I hate this,” he whispered. “I hate them. They either treat me like a child or they treat me like a criminal. They never treat me like a person!”

“’Jun....”

He twitched at the hand that gripped his shoulder, the touch only hesitant for a moment before it firmed. He was sorely tempted to jerk away, free himself from the physical attempt at comfort in a brief spike of rage, but he did not. That really would have been childish, and it was not his friend’s fault he felt this way. He should not drive Genrou away just because he was angry and hurt. He couldn’t lose another friend to his temper.

Houjun stiffened, and blinked in confusion. Another friend? When had he ever lost a friend before, and especially to his temper? That was stupid; he hadn’t lost anyone since the flood that took his family.

Water.

Houjun’s heart skipped a beat.

Water had taken them too.

Cold and wet and pain rushed over his senses, and he jerked his helmet off with a strangled gasp. The strange, intense feelings vanished as suddenly as they had come on, and he was left feeling somehow…empty. He glanced at Genrou, and the flabbergasted look on his friend’s face erased the empty feeling, and replaced it with a feeling of being foolish. An embarrassed flush spread across his face, and he looked away again. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

“Bullshit,” the flame-haired youth retorted. “Ya look like ya just saw a ghost!”

He frowned at that. “A ghost?” he murmured. All at once he recalled that first meeting with Ryuuen at The Warehouse. Something had happened to him then, too. Blood…blood in the snow. And a feeling of terrible loss.

What’s wrong with me? he thought, panic rising like bile in his throat. He forced it down and shook his head to clear it. “I said I’m fine,” he insisted. He replaced his head gear, and swung his leg over the motorcycle, pushing the kickstand up with his heel. His hands trembled on the handlebars. He ignored that.

“No you’re not,” Genrou denied. “You’re shakin’ like a—”

“I’m fine, okay?” His tone was pleading, surprising them both. “Can we—can we just go?”

The redhead stared at him with painfully worried eyes for a moment, before offering him an awkward, fanged smile (those extra-pointy canine teeth of Genrou’s never failed to baffle and amuse his friends, but no one ever gave him sass about it to his face, beyond the occasional mild teasing). “Okay. Ya know, yer not really in any shape ta go out and party right now. How ‘bout an alternative way ta skip school and pass the time?”

Relieved that they were at least leaving his current problem behind, Houjun nodded. “That’s fine with me. What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll tell ya when we get there,” the redhead replied with a more devilish edge to his smile. “Just follow me and don’t worry about a thing.”

The taller boy rolled his eyes, but started his bike. At least it can’t be any worse than staying here.

Their bikes roared out of the driveway and down the street, and for a while, Houjun could let the wind whip his troubled thoughts far away.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Oh,” he said when they parked their bikes, “no. Absolutely not, no da!”

“Aw, shut up and come inside. They ain’t gonna eat ya.”

Houjun grimaced, but followed Genrou in, albeit with the air of a man being sent to the gallows. “Out of curiosity, what made you think this would make me feel better? Even you don’t like being here most of the time.”

The firehair grinned sadistically over his shoulder. “I figured it’d at least help ya appreciate yer own family more.”

“That’s great, Gen. Really,” Houjun deadpanned. Oh well, nothing for it. He’d just have to grit his teeth and endure.

They were ambushed just shy of the living room. She was small, but both males knew that didn’t mean a damned thing in the Kou household. After all, Genrou was a decent size for a teenage boy, but he was no giant by any means and never would be.

“Uwaa!” the attacker squealed. “Houjun-samaaaaaa!”

“Yaugh!” the blue-haired teen cried, and threw himself out of the way. Just in time, too, because the tackle she aimed at him knocked the sturdy, navy-blue corduroy couch clean over on its back. He dreaded the thought of what it might have done to a human being. Alas, the assault was not through by any means. There were more of the enemy about, and now they were alerted to his presence.

One by one, the other four popped into sight, one around a nearby corner, two poking their heads out of upstairs bedrooms, and one emerging from the basement stairs. All adopted variations of “enthusiastic surprise” in their expressions, and Houjun cringed. Genrou saw them coming too, and took measures to protect his comrade.

“Back, ya damned she-devils!” the redhead bellowed, grabbing the long, pole-like stand of a nearby reading lamp and brandishing it. “BACK!”

The oldest of them gave him a scornful shove out of the way, and the rest crowded into the spot he had unwillingly vacated. “Run, ‘Jun, run!” the redhead shrieked, flailing frantically at the edge of the sea of human evil that was his siblings.

“Oh, shut up,” the one who had shoved him snapped. Genrou’s eldest sister, Kou Rin by name, then turned her most congenial smile on Houjun, who was now trapped with a wall at his back. “Ri-kun, you came to visit! We don’t see enough of you these days; how are you?”

The youngest (though still a year older than her brother) was Kou Meiko, and she was the one who had tried to flatten the blue-haired teen earlier. She was all eyes still at eighteen, and people were always mistaking her for Genrou’s younger sister. She got even with him for this by making his life miserable, and she was extremely talented at it.

One of her favorite tactics was apparently to ignore him in favor of his attractive male friends. Houjun was her favorite, though he certainly did not enjoy the status. “Houjun-sama,” she gushed, “I had a dream about you last night!”

“Spare us the nasty details, will ya?” Genrou groused. None of the horde paid him any heed.

“Your hair got longer,” observed Kou Kana, the second-to-oldest girl, with a sparkle in her eyes. “It looks good.”

“Um, thank you....”

“Sweet bike,” offered Kou Ran, the third-to-oldest, looking out the window. “It’s cooler than little bro’s by a long shot.”

“HEY! My bike is at least as awesome as—”

“You’re gonna be a senior soon, right? It’s hard to believe you ain’t one already.” This was the next-to-youngest sister, Kou Risa. Houjun disliked her the least out of all her sisters, because she actually sort of reminded him of her brother. She didn’t have his accent, but she flung slang all over like he did, and she was possessed of a similar rough-around-the-edges likeability.

Rin, Kana, Ran, Risa, and Meiko; the five banes of Kou Shun’u’s existence. They had tortured him in his childhood and were refusing to let the trend die now that he was an adolescent. They had simply adjusted their methods over time. Making him furious wasn’t just their hobby. It was their calling.

And right now, they were excelling at it.

“Awright, that’s it!” Genrou snarled. “Go back ta doing yer girly shit and leave me and ‘Jun alone fer chrissakes!”

Five pairs of female eyes turned on him, and he swallowed a sudden, nervous lump in his throat.

“Aw,” Risa cooed, “are we ignorin’ you, little bro?”

“If you wanted attention, you could have just asked,” Rin concurred.

“Shun’u-chan is jealous because Houjun-sama is getting all the love,” Meiko said, her voice dripping with sympathy.

“Well, we should do something about that, huh?” Ran suggested.

“Yes, yes we should,” agreed Kana.

They all smiled like the wicked creatures they were, and pounced before Genrou could take the cues and flee. Houjun could only watch helplessly as his buddy was dragged to the once more upright couch and assaulted mercilessly with…hairbrushes? The girls giggled and shrieked while they played with their protesting sibling’s hair; occasionally one of them or the other had to dodge a poorly aimed kick or swat, but Genrou didn’t have it in him to hurt them for real.

“GET OFFA ME GAWDDAMNIT!” the redhead howled, flailing. Houjun could tell he was having flashbacks of his lace-ridden childhood, and he wondered if he should save his friend from this horror, or if he should let the sisters have their fun and then soothe Genrou’s ego as best he could afterwards. He decided in the end that discretion was the better part of valor, and stayed out of it. Gen’s pride would heal, and there was no way in hell he was going to go in there and risk a mini-makeover himself. Friendship only went so far.

The five females released their brother once they were satisfied that he was “beautiful.” A few hair clips had found their way into the young man’s fiery tresses, as well as some sort of sparkly hair gel, from the look of it. Genrou’s face nearly matched his hair in color by the time he was set loose, and he fumed on the couch for the next half an hour, during which the girls pestered Houjun to their hearts’ content. “That’ll teach you to abandon me in my hour of need” was written all over his face. The taller teen endured, because on some level, he was sure he deserved it for not stepping in.

Gradually, the females dispersed, leaving the boys aware of their presence but no longer suffocated by it. Houjun let out a relieved breath, and collapsed next to his fellow victim on the couch.

“All right,” he conceded, “I’m starting to appreciate my own, less ‘vibrant’ relatives.”

“Vibrant,” Genrou growled. “Is that what ya call it?”

“Well, what you would call it would be much less polite, no da.”

“Don’t even start with the ‘no da,’ dang it! My nerves are already shot without havin’ ta be on guard for yer weird moods too!” The fact that he had temporarily forgotten how to swear was a true testament to just how frazzled he really was. He shook it off, and reached for the television remote with one hand while he yanked sunflower-shaped hairclips out of his ember-red mane with the other. “Friggin’ females! I hate women! I hate ‘em all!”

Houjun chuckled at him, feeling much better in spite of himself. The noise of the TV filled the space between him and his friend for several minutes before he spoke again. “Hey, Genrou?”

“Eh?”

“Thank you.”

The shorter teen flashed a small, fanged grin. “No problem.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

He heard it before he saw it: a faint snuffling sound, and then a tentative whine. Blue eyes, rich in color but nonetheless cold, turned toward the sound, and the noise ceased abruptly.

He meant to continue on his way then, truly he did. He had no intentions whatsoever of investigating the sound. He certainly had no thoughts of venturing down a smelly, brick alley to find out where it had come from. And he in no way intended to move aside a few filthy trash cans to reveal the source of the noise. Yet somehow, there he was, doing exactly that.

The animal was huge, with matted fur and yellow fangs that it bared at the young man who had discovered it. A low, rumbling growl crawled up from deep down in its throat, the kind of primal sound that cavemen had once huddled around their fires in fear of. It was not a dog; Ayuru could see that immediately. It had a long snout and large, triangular ears that were currently pressed back against its head. Its eyes were wild, and the color of lantern light on a dark winter’s night. Its black lips wrinkled in an ugly warning as Ayuru stood there, gazing at it and wondering why he was not afraid for his life. Its thick, gray fur stood on end all along its back, all the way to the base of its tucked-under tail, and the tall, blond boy realized it was actually afraid of him.

What is a creature like you doing in the middle of a Japanese city? he wondered.

With hardly a thought, he stretched out a hand—and nearly lost it when jaws like a steel trap snapped shut just short of his fingers. He jerked his arm away quickly, and pondered his own sanity. He must be insane, he concluded, because he realized he was going to try again even as his hand moved forward a second time.

The beast tried to bite him again, snapping at him and then shrinking back with a note of fearful whine to its snarl. It thought he was going to hurt it. A big, nasty predator like this was terrified of a young, human male. The thought almost made Ayuru smirk. He did not, however, instead concentrating his efforts on having one more try at touching it. This time when it lunged at his outstretched fingers, he did not flinch back. Its muzzle grazed his hand; his skin felt the heat of its breath and the barest hint of its sharp teeth, but there was no pain. It hunched in on itself, its hackles lowered and its appearance subservient, questioning. Its tail tucked even more tightly between its legs, and it whined at the human standing over it. Ayuru slowly, very slowly placed his hand on its furry head. It cowered, but did not otherwise move.

“Don’t be afraid,” the young man told it in a quiet, steady tone. “You need a place to belong, don’t you?”

The animal’s ears raised from its skull just a mite, and it stopped baring its teeth altogether. The end of its tail twitched tentatively, almost a wag.

Ayuru straightened up and looked at it for a long moment. “Come,” he ordered at last, his decision made. To his surprise, it came, picking its way over some trash bags and arriving at his side. It still looked as though it expected him to strike out at it any moment now, but when he turned and continued on his way it followed him. The blond youth smiled, victorious. It appeared he had a pet.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“A WOLF!?” Saihitei scrambled in a most undignified manner to put the couch between himself and his brother’s new acquisition. “Are you mad!? Where did you find it!?”

“In an alley, on my way home,” Ayuru replied casually. “And I doubt he is a pureblooded wolf. He’s too large, for one thing.”

“I’m calling Animal Control,” the brunet teen announced, hazel eyes narrowed. He began to edge out from behind the sofa, but froze when the beast at his brother’s side gave a soft, threatening growl.

Ayuru smirked broadly at the look on Saihitei’s face. Now this was definitely worth a possible scolding for bringing home strange animals. He hadn’t even taught his new pet any good tricks, and it was already entertaining him. That settled things: he was keeping it.

“Sic him,” the blond said, the command only meant to tease his sibling. His eyes widened in shock when the wolf launched itself across the room and tackled his brother to the floor. Saihitei’s cry of fear and pain had him moving before he realized it, and then he was dragging the beast away by its thick ruff, fighting against its unbelievable strength as it thrashed and roared, trying to get at the brown-haired boy.

“STOP!” Ayuru shouted harshly, and the wolf left off struggling, and eyed him with obvious confusion. It whimpered, and hunkered down on the floor when he let go of its fur.

The blond’s heart was pounding, and he turned to his sibling. Saihitei had levered himself up on one arm, and was staring at him with betrayal starkly emanating from his eyes. His shirt was ripped, and a hint of red stained the fabric. He was hurt, Ayuru realized numbly. He hadn’t meant that to happen. It was supposed to be a joke, just something to make the other boy nervous. He hadn’t meant the animal to actually cause Saihitei harm.

“I’m sorry,” he managed uneasily (he was not accustomed to apologizing, least of all to his brother). “I was unaware he actually recognized that command.” The blond swallowed with some difficulty. “It was a joke. That’s all.”

Anger flashed hotly in the other teen’s gaze. “That beast is mad,” Saihitei snapped. “Keep it away from me, or heaven help me I will call the pound and see it destroyed!”

The brunet shoved himself to his feet and stalked away, his dignified strides as always somehow reminiscent of an imperial march. Ayuru let out a quiet, irritated sigh once he was gone.

For as long as he could remember, he and Saihitei had been diametrically opposed to one another. Even as young children, they had never truly gotten along. They had fought verbally and even physically many times, and their hatred for each other had solidified in their adolescence. But when things came right down to it, they were still reluctantly family, and families did not seek to destroy their own. He had made a mistake, and he could acknowledge that. He supposed he would have to somehow make amends for it later. At the moment, though....

He looked down at the wolf huddled next to his feet, head down, but ears raised and alert. “You’re filthy,” he told the creature. “You will not disgrace our home this way any further. You are going to submit to a bath.”

The wolf’s ears laid back in surprise, and it whined pathetically. He ignored it, and caught it once more by the scruff. “Come,” he ordered, and though it dragged its paws a little, it obeyed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The doorbell rang, and Myou Juan rose from the chair in the kitchen and went to answer it, a small, orange cat at his heels. He had always had cats, as far back as he could remember, and he enjoyed their company more than most peoples’.

The woman at the door was unfamiliar to him, and he was surprised when she held out a basket of fresh cut flowers to him.

“Hello,” she greeted. “My name is Ou Kimiko, and I just moved into the neighborhood. I thought I’d introduce myself to my new neighbors.”

“Ah…thank you,” Juan replied, a touch flustered. “I’m Myou Juan,” he added belatedly. He always had trouble speaking to new people, another reason he tended to prefer the company of felines. As he took the basket by the handle, he suddenly noticed a pair of large, green eyes peeking out from behind the woman. They were attached to a boy of about fifteen, with chestnut hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and a roundish face that made his eyes look even bigger. The clues to his age were there when Juan looked with a practiced eye, but he was a petite thing, and anyone might have mistaken him for a younger, if not much younger child. When he saw Juan looking, he quickly buried his face against the woman’s back and shivered.

An embarrassed expression crossed Kimiko’s face, before she offered Juan an awkward smile. “This is my son, Doukun. He’s…shy.” She was flustered, and Juan felt sorry for her.

“Would you like to come in for a moment?” he asked. “Just while I find a place for these flowers. After that I’d like to thank you properly.”

“Ah, no, I couldn’t possibly intrude....”

“It’s all right. Here, come on in.”

He led the pair inside, and sat Kimiko and her son down in the front room. The small, cozy kitchen was right alongside it, and he could talk to them through the open section that joined both areas. “I’ll make some tea. Just wait there a moment.”

He placed the flowers in a vase with some water, and put a kettle on to boil. While he waited for the water to heat, he returned to where he had left his guests and engaged them in small talk as best he could. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he said, by way of a conversation starter.

“Thank you,” the woman replied warmly. She glanced around the room, just simple observation on her part. “Are your parents home?” she asked.

“No, they both work during the day. It’s only me and my friends here.” He gestured at the cats that wandered about the edges of the room, taking in the sight and scent of new people. He had four in all, none of them antisocial. If he knew anything, they would soon be making friendly little pests of themselves.

“Oh my, they’re adorable,” Kimiko said with a laugh. “I’ve never had cats myself, but I’ve always thought them wonderful animals.”

Her son, Doukun, stared at his hands in his lap and said nothing, did nothing—until one of the felines, a tortoise-shell female, jumped right into his lap. The small boy squeaked, and at first cringed from the tiny beast, his lip quivering as though he would cry. The cat rubbed her face against his chin repeatedly, kneading without claws at his shirt, and gradually he relaxed and lifted a hesitant hand to stroke her fur. He even smiled a little after a while, and seemed content to ignore everything around him in favor of the cat.

“I apologize,” Kimiko ventured when she noted Juan’s curious gaze on the boy. “Doukun is young for his age. Mentally, I mean. He seemed like any other child until he was almost two years old, and then…the doctors can’t explain it. He just stopped developing at any normal speed after that.” Now it was she who seemed about to cry, her eyes shining wetly, and her gaze downcast. “He doesn’t talk most days, and when he does it’s just simple words like ‘mama,’ or ‘no.’ I’ve tried to get him to make friends, but he doesn’t like being around people his own age. That’s why I said he’s shy.”

She tried to wipe her eyes inconspicuously. “Goodness, I’m so sorry. I’ve only just met you and already I’m bothering you with such a story. Forgive me; sometimes I can’t stand people asking, so I end up telling them before they do.”

“That’s just fine,” Juan assured her. “I’m actually studying to become a doctor, so it’s good if people feel they can confide in me.”

He picked up one of his cats (nature’s therapy, in his opinion), and placed it next to her knee. The feline crawled right into her lap without further prompting, and she gave it a wavering smile and petted its head. Its rumbling purr seemed to comfort her a little, and Juan smiled.

The tea kettle whistled, and he went and fixed a pot of jasmine, bringing that and three small cups out to the other room. While he and Doukun’s mother chatted, the small, silent youth played with the cats.

At one point, Juan found himself distracted from the conversation with Kimiko. He wasn’t sure at first what had diverted his attention. Then it came again, and this time he realized he was hearing a cat’s meow. This was not unusual, seeing as he shared his home with four of them. It was not fact that a cat had meowed that had caught his ear, however; it was the fact that this meow in particular was not familiar to him. It was less like a “mew” and more like a “nyah!” He recognized all the different tonalities and nuances of his pets’ meows, and that was not one he had heard before.

He turned to investigate the sound, and saw a strange cat sitting on Doukun’s lap, batting at the boy’s fluffy bangs playfully. The animal was white with brown patches, and a funny, plump tail.

Kimiko’s gaze was drawn to where he was looking, and she smiled. “That one is very cute,” she observed. “He has a very expressive face.”

Juan stared at the cat, baffled. “That’s not one of mine.”

He stood and went to where Doukun was petting the unknown feline, and lifted the little beast in his large hands. “How did you get in?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen you before; do you belong to someone who lives near here?”

“Nyao,” the cat replied coyly, patting at his nose with a paw.

It wasn’t any cat he had seen around his home or any of the ones nearby, and he knew his parents would not have gone out and purchased another cat themselves. Cats were their son’s interest, not theirs. “Hm,” he murmured, “I guess I’ll have to put up fliers about you. You don’t have a collar, but you don’t look like a stray. Someone must know where you came from.”

The cat purred, to all appearances completely unconcerned with its origins. Juan raised an eyebrow at it, wondering what to do with it in the meantime. Then he heard a different sound, and a distressed one. His guest’s young son was staring up at him, a hand half raised, and his expression uncertain. Juan gazed back at him, unsure of his meaning for a minute. Then it dawned on him: the boy wanted the cat back. He smiled reassuringly, and held out the little feline. The petite youth brightened, and drew the cat back into his arms, where it seemed quite content to be after a short session of squirming and settling itself how it liked.

“Oh dear,” Kimiko said softly, “he’s gotten attached to it. I hate to make him unhappy, but we can’t keep a cat. My husband is severely allergic to them.”

Doukun looked up at her, frowning sadly. It was clear he understood, at least a little, that he was to be separated from his new friend, and he didn’t like it one bit. “No?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, sweetie, no,” his mother answered, distressed. “Papa is allergic to kitties. They make him sick, understand?”

The young teenager bit his lip, glancing down at the cat, then back up at his parent. “No,” he conceded at last, his voice still very soft. He understood “no,” and Kimiko looked relieved that he wasn’t going to fight her on this.

Juan’s brow furrowed in thought. “If he likes the cat,” he suggested, “maybe you could bring him by to see it now and then. Since you’re in the neighborhood.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Perhaps Doukun and I could be friends, too.” He was finding a strange affinity with the green-eyed boy. He didn’t know how, but he was sure he and Doukun would get along. Maybe it was just that this boy fit quite well with his tendency to make odd friends.

Kimiko’s eyes lit up like stars at his proposition. “Thank you. You’re so kind.” She cocked her head then, thinking of something. “Do you go to the high school, over in that direction?”

“Yes,” he replied, “Fushichou High School.”

The woman tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Well, you see, I ask because I was going to try enrolling Doukun in public school again this year. I’ve caught him up with home schooling since the last time I withdrew him from the public system, but I think it would do him good to attend school with other people again. And if he does go back to public school, it might be nice for him to have someone he already knows a little to help him. I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but, do you think you could keep an eye on him?”

Juan shook his head. “It’s not too much to ask at all. I’m used to keeping an eye on people, so looking after Doukun for a while shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh, thank you. This means more to me than you can possibly imagine.”

Later, after the tea was finished and the conversation had dwindled, Juan saw the woman and her son to the door. “You’re welcome anytime,” he reminded them.

“Thank you so much.”

“Not at all.” The tall, gentle young man turned to Doukun, pleased when the smaller youth did not hide this time. “I look forward to seeing you again, and so does this little one.” He held up the cat for the fifteen-year-old to pat goodbye, which Doukun did, a fond expression on his face.

Juan watched them walk across the street to their home, and waved one last time before they went inside. He was glad he could get to know his new neighbors, and he hoped he could do Doukun some good. Friendship could heal a great deal, he knew, even the kind of loneliness he had seen in the small boy’s big, green eyes. There was more there than his parents probably suspected, much more, and in time Juan hoped he could help to bring it out.

“In the meantime, though,” he said, lifting his other new friend to eye level, “what should I do with you?”

The cat seemed almost to grin at him. “Nyao!”

He chuckled, his deep voice almost a purr in and of itself. “I think,” he told his furry new houseguest, “I’ll start by feeding you.”

The cat appeared to think this an excellent plan, and together they went back inside to carry it out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“The wheels of Fate have begun to turn once more,” the voice that was one and two and all said into the void between dimensions. “The agents of change have begun to appear. The warriors will soon awaken.”

“What will happen when they do?” asked another voice, young, girlish, with a touch of concern.

“I cannot say. It was I who sent them here, but I had no hand in their lives after their souls had settled upon this world.”

Both entities turned their sights upon a great mirror, in which was reflected not them, but everything else. The images flashed by in a flood of color, and only the two beings who looked on would have been able to discern one scene from the next.

“I’ll try to reach that one first,” the voice that was all and one said. “He cannot break the chains of memory that bind him and his comrades on his own. In the past, however, he above all others could hear my voice. Perhaps in this life, he will hear it as well. Whether he will listen…that remains to be seen.”

The girlish voice spoke again, the concern more evident than ever. “I hope he will. I hope they all will.”

“As do I. But have patience. Their hearts may be changed, but their souls know their Destiny.”

The wildly racing images in the mirror slowed, and eventually stopped on one, an image of a man with dark hair and lavender eyes.

“Taka,” the all and one murmured, “I will do what I can, but I must leave the rest to you. To you, and to the priestess. Guide them back from the shadows. Bring them to the light of memory once more. We will be waiting....”

~*~*~*~*~*~

I look forward to your comments as this fic devours your souls. *cackles evilly* But no, seriously, thanks for reading. XD