Destiny Mine

Chapter 1: Reliving The Past

By Mystic Dawn

Notes: This fic takes place several years into the future, say in the year 2500 or so if you're groping for a timeline. It primarily focuses on Kurogane reliving his past life; that as a ninja in the service of Princess Tomoyo. In this world, there are all sorts of technological advantages and the like. Something like Piffle World, but not as pretty. We've got critters from outer space, flying cars, robots, etc. However, since they're not the main focus of this story, I won't really go into details.

"Earth to Kuro-puu, earth to Kuro-puu. Hello, are you in there?"

Kurogane did not respond immediately, his attention obviously elsewhere. It took a few moments for his comrade's words to sink in. "What?" he asked blankly, looking up, surprised at being addressed.

The man sitting in the leather armchair beside him rolled his clear blue eyes skywards, shaking his blond head. "Kuro-chan, I think you've started losing it," he told him critically.

"I'm perfectly fine," Kurogane snapped, sipping at his coffee.

"Are you sure? It looks to me like Kuroi-san is hiding something," the blond grinned impishly.

"Stop calling me by those damn names," he growled threateningly.

"But, Kuro-sama," he protested in a whiny voice, "that's the only favorite pastime I have that's actually any fun!"

Kurogane sighed in exasperation. How in the world did he ever get stuck with such a ridiculously immature person? The red-eyed man cursed his bad luck on a daily basis. He had bad luck of all kinds—from flighty personages to strange and incessant dreams.

"Seriously, though," the blond suddenly said, his grin fading, "something seems to be troubling you."

"How clever of you to notice," Kurogane commented scathingly.

"Hey, I may act like a fool sometimes, but I'm not an idiot," he said, his tone a little indignant. "If I were a fool would I be sitting here in this office right now?" he asked him pointedly, jabbing his forefinger upon the desk for emphasis.

He had a point there, Kurogane decided sullenly, shifting his coffee mug between his hands, trying not to think back on his recurring dreams.

Being a reporter had its ups and downs, some including having to have Fay D. Flourite as his 'partner in crime' in both interior and exterior businesses. Although they had only been working together for a mere two years, the two of them had managed to crack more cases and get more articles on the front disc-slot of the Tsubasa Chronicle than all the other journalists in the establishment put together. Or, rather, Kurogane's articles were the one used, for Fay, being a photographer and a visualist, provided the optical footage. With Kurogane's pen and Fay's camera, they had always managed to provide the people with valid information regarding wide-ranging subjects—from petty robberies to acts of terrorism—from all around the worlds.

"When is Eriol-san going to get here?" Fay suddenly said, checking his wristwatch. "We can't wait for him forever, y'know. We've got to start our research on the lax Utopian bank security."

"He is the head of the Chronicle," Kurogane said slowly, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "He's probably busy trying to get tomorrow's edition straightened out." Though the scowl spreading upon his face clearly indicated that he was getting impatient at the delay.

"You sound exceptionally optimistic all of a sudden."

Kurogane half-shrugged. "It's not like things can get any crappier than they already are."

Fay smiled slowly and triumphantly. "That just confirms my suspicions."

Kurogane chose to ignore him, taking a swallow of coffee. Try as he might, he could not forget about the mysterious woman he had seen in his dreams. There had been something about her, something that had stirred a familiarity inside of him that he could not understand. It puzzled him to no end, and he unconsciously frowned.

"You look like you didn't sleep well," Fay continued.

Kurogane quirked an eyebrow, regarding him steadily from the corner of his eye. Just why was Fay so suddenly interested in whether or not he had problems sleeping?

"Care to share what's troubling you?" he offered. "Sometimes it helps to get most of it off your chest."

Kurogane's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. He was not at all in the mood to share anything, especially with Fay, knowing that the blond would simply continue to tease him all the more often, especially if he mentioned the mysterious woman. Kurogane involuntarily groaned. He would never be able to live with the humiliation he would have to endure.

"Suit yourself," Fay shrugged, looking up at the sound of the door opening.

A tall man entered, shutting the door behind him. He had black-blue hair and wore thin-rimmed wire glasses, and his midnight-blue eyes had an unusual glint to them. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologized in a friendly manner as he took the seat across from them, sitting behind the large windows overlooking the sea of business establishments, apartments, and skyscrapers. They seemed to rent the sky apart with their prominent peaks, and Kurogane was suddenly vividly reminded of the peculiar ancient structure in his latest dream.

"That's all right, Eriol-san," Fay said cheerfully. "We understand that you've got a lot to do."

Eriol Hiiragizawa, the head of the best-selling news-disc Tsubasa Chronicle, smiled apologetically. "Still, I kept the two of you waiting in here for quite a while."

"We had coffee to drink, things to chat about," Fay grinned, "so it wasn't as if we were bored silly or anything."

"Speak for yourself," Kurogane grumbled under his breath.

"Well, then." Eriol clasped his hands together and smiled again.

Kurogane refrained from rolling his eyes. He so hated Eriol's sadistic smiles. It seemed as if he were planning to do something whenever he smiled like that, and Kurogane had a funny feeling that it had something to do with him this time.

No wonder Eriol and Fay always got along so well.

"I have something rather important to tell you," Eriol began seriously, the smile fading from his face. "It specifically concerns your last article. The mini-videos you provided us with the minister's speech were topnotch quality, as usual, Fay-san."

Fay smiled proudly and stood up straighter in his seat.

"But I'm afraid I can't say the same for you, Kurogane-san."

"What?" Kurogane growled dangerously.

"Your use of the written word remains flawless," Eriol assured him. "But the problem is what you've written." He laced his fingers together. "It looks like you're having difficulty on focusing somewhere. It's as if your mind is somewhere else. You haven't conveyed the essence of the speech."

Kurogane scowled darkly. He knew what was at fault.

Eriol sighed and removed his glasses. "Lately, your articles are becoming more and more vague, and are drifting slightly off-topic." He rubbed at his eyes wearily, taking a deep breath. "Maybe you need a break. You know, a chance to cool off and regain your strength. I'll be the first to admit that I've been pressuring you two a bit too much these last few weeks." He put his glasses back on and looked up at him. "What do you think?"

What did he think? Did he even have a choice?

"It's nothing permanent," Eriol assured him before he could open his mouth to reply with a faint smile. "Just a couple of weeks to relax, and I'm sure you'll be back to normal in no time."

Kurogane said nothing for a time, mulling over the options he had. He supposed there would be no harm in accepting what Eriol was offering him. Shrugging with seeming indifference, he drained the rest of his coffee. He did not reply immediately. "I guess I could use two weeks to rest up a bit," he finally decided.

"Grand," Eriol smiled. "I want my best reporter to be in top form..."

Kurogane couldn't help but feel a little proud that Eriol considered him his best reporter, but all this was shattered at his superior's next comment.

"...but I hope your swearing doesn't recover!" He flashed him a huge grin and chuckled.

"I don't swear in my articles!" Kurogane protested vehemently.

"But you do when you're actually talking with people. You should watch your mouth with the other journalists. Most of them try to convince me of serious illnesses whenever we have staff meetings just to keep out of your way."

Fay howled with laughter, clapping his hands together mirthfully. "That's our Kuro-tan!"

"You shut your frigging mouth!" Kurogane bristled.

Eriol and Fay exchanged looks.

"See what I mean?" Eriol said gloomily.

This only managed to make Fay laugh even harder.

"Anyhow," Eriol grinned, turning back to Kurogane, "I suggest you head home. Just call me if you need anything." He got to his feet, signaling the end of their meeting.

Kurogane also stood to his feet, glowering angrily as he drew on his jacket and left Eriol's office with Fay trailing along behind him. The two of them walked down numerous empty hallways towards their own joint office.

"See?" Fay said smugly, lengthening his stride to match Kurogane's as he fell into step beside him. "Even Eriol-san noticed it."

"Your point?" Kurogane said bluntly.

"That something really is bugging you after all, and it's bugging you so much that even your writing is affected."

Kurogane let out an explosive breath as he raked a hand through his messy jet-black hair. "All right," he said, finally admitting defeat. "I do have something on my mind." Or rather someone, he corrected himself silently.

"So?" asked Fay expectantly.

"So what?"

"So what's on your mind?"

Kurogane's expression darkened. "You're not gonna leave me the hell alone until I tell you, are you?" he accused.

"Nope," Fay admitted without preamble, shooting him a huge grin.

Kurogane did not reply at first. "It started around three months ago," he finally said. "Every night I keep on seeing the same dream. There's a girl calling me, and she sounds so... lost and desperate. But lately, the dreams have been getting more intense, and strangely life-like." His brow knitted in worry. "Am I losing it?"

"Kuro-sama, my friend," Fay chuckled, clapping him on the back, "I think I see what the problem is."

"What?"

"You're not satisfied with your sex life."

"Whaaat?"

"You're unconsciously looking for the perfect girl to satisfy you, but because you can't find her, you're starting to believe that an imaginary girl is better than the real thing."

"That's a load of crap!" Kurogane spluttered, his face turning an alarming shade of scarlet.

"Oh, really?" The grin upon his face widened. "How long has it been since you last had sex?" he asked him slyly.

"That's totally irrelevant!"

"Aha!" Fay exclaimed triumphantly. "Gotcha, didn't I?"

"I'm not dreaming of her because I'm sex-deprived!" Kurogane fumed. "I haven't dreamed of anything like that!"

"So, you are sex-deprived?" Fay inquired.

"No, I'm not!" he retorted hotly.

"Then how long has it been?" he pressed.

Kurogane mumbled the answer after several moments of painful silence and Fay burst out laughing.

"Two months!" he howled with mirth. "Oh, no wonder you're such a sorry sight!" Coming to a stop before their office, Fay pushed open the door, still doubled-over with laughter.

A vein began to throb dangerously in Kurogane's forehead, but he held back his tongue as he seated himself at his desk and began to negligently toss various items and the like inside his briefcase.

After Fay had regained his breath and a few shreds of his composure, he looked up at the furious man pointedly ignoring him with a mischievous look in his sapphire-blue eyes. "Seriously, though, how come it's been so long?"

"I've been busy," Kurogane snapped shortly, rummaging through his drawers.

"Told you," Fay nodded. "Since you've been focusing so much on your job, you haven't had sex. Since you haven't had sex, you've been seeing dreams in which you pour out all your frustration in."

Kurogane wisely decided not to comment on that last remark.

"And because of these exhausting dreams, the quality of your articles has dropped," Fay continued. "It's the same vicious circle." He folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "Which means that now that you're getting too weeks' vacation time, you should have as much sex as you can. For the sake of your career, of course," he hastened to add, smiling brightly.

This coming from a man who believed that Harry Potter had been a real person and not just the figment of some woman's wild imagination, Kurogane thought exasperatedly as he fixed the blond with a bone-chilling glare. "Why don't I just kick your ass?" he suggested in a tone that showed that he was most definitely not joking.

"Sorry, but you'll just have to get in line. I'll be needing it tonight."

"With your husband?" he guessed sourly.

"Oh, yes," Fay grinned foolishly. "It's only been a few weeks since we got married, but Ashura can't get enough of me." He chuckled. "And I can't get enough of him," he added affectionately.

"Just because you get to fuck him often, doesn't mean that I've got the same problem," Kurogane retorted scathingly.

"Be nice," Fay chided absent-mindedly, his thoughts obviously elsewhere.

Kurogane snorted derisively. No wonder Fay had this sudden obsession in contriving everything to sex. He was getting a daily dose, and by the looks of it, it was addling his brains. But Kurogane couldn't help but suspect—only a little—that his problem may actually be due to a lack of sexual activity.

Snapping his briefcase shut, he got to his feet. "Well, see you in two weeks," he said in a fashion of farewell.

"Sure thing," Fay smirked knowingly.

Kurogane rolled his eyes, closing the office door behind him.

However, it did not occur to the tall journalist until he had reached the parking lot and had seated himself in his car-pod that his two-month inactivity could not possibly be due to the dreams.

The dreams had started three months ago.

—

Kurogane set down his beer and gazed disinterestedly at the hologram before him. With a flick of his fingers, he changed the channel, and a different scene replaced the first. He slumped lower into his armchair and sniffed disinterestedly. He kept on changing the channels, but he could find nothing to his taste. And so, with a snap of his fingers, the images flickered and disappeared.

Boredom was something that simply did not suit him well. He had to have something to occupy his mind with, and that was something that not even television could do. He hated being inactive, doing nothing, feeling... useless.

Not being able to hold himself back any longer, he dialed a number on the luminous pad beside him, and in the blink of an eye, Fay's holographic image appeared before him. But instead of the ever-present smile on his face, he wore a disapproving frown.

"Why aren't you relaxing?"

"I was," Kurogane said defensively. "I just phoned to see if you're making a mess of things."

Fay sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe it! It's only been three hours and you're already bored stiff! You have no idea how to relax, do you?" Although his words were stern, his tone was light and humorous.

"I didn't call you to hear a lecture, bastard," Kurogane snapped. "And the way you're avoiding my question's making me think that you have made a mess of things."

"Everything's perfectly fine," Fay assured him. "Syaoran-kun and I have pretty much covered the bank robbery—"

"What?" Kurogane exclaimed, jumping to his feet, his expression livid.

"Uh, yeah... Eriol-san has Syaoran Li-kun filling up for you."

"What the hell for?"

"He had to assign the article tosomeone," Fay said a little defensively after a moment's hesitation.

Kurogane glared at the blond vehemently, trembling with ill-disguised fury as he crushed the beer-can in his fist. How utterly humiliating to be outsmarted by a brat he passed at least a dozen years in age and experience!

"It's not Syaoran-kun's fault," Fay pointed out.

Of course not, Kurogane admitted sullenly. It was that frigging Hiiragizawa's fault, who regarded a freshman a more competent reporter than him. "I guess... I overreacted," he grudgingly grated.

"You're telling me," Fay snorted with laughter. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were about ready to tear my head off!"

Kurogane couldn't hide that the thought had crossed his mind, at least fleetingly.

"So, if you don't have anything else, I should get going. We've still got to get some photos of the Utopian bank, and Syaoran-kun's going to have to interrogate more than a few witnesses."

"You're going to Utopia with the brat?"

"It's needed," Fay admitted. "We're probably going to get there by tonight, at the latest." He smiled faintly. "You know how crowded the space shuttles can get at this time of day. Traffic's murder."

Kurogane grunted in agreement. "Don't get into any trouble while you're there," he cautioned. "I've heard that the security's been maximized since the robbery. They don't take too kindly to foreigners."

"Don't worry about us. You should worry about yourself. Oh, yes! I almost forgot!" A wide grin plastered his face. "Don't forget to follow my advice on what I told you to do before you left!"

Kurogane was about ready to reply with a scathing comment, but the hologram flickered and vanished. He made an irritated sound in his throat and fell slovenly into his armchair. Man, what he wouldn't do to give Fay a well-deserved beating. Hell knew that he certainly needed the sense knocked into him.

—

"That will be ten viscos and forty-seven jivers, sir."

Kurogane fished out his wallet from his jeans and began counting out the coins in his hand. After handing eleven silver coins over, the cashier gave him his change of fifty-three jivers, a few small bronze coins in various sizes and shapes.

"Thank you," the cashier said automatically, handing out his shopping bag. "We hope you shop from CLAMP again."

Kurogane took his bag from the female-looking robot and headed off towards the exit, stuffing his left hand in his pocket. Stepping outside, he wrinkled his nose in disgust when he was greeted by a light drizzle of rain. He should have expected it from the dark clouds covering the sky when he started out.

He strode down the busy street, filled with bustling personages and robots jostling him as he made his way along the sidewalk. He gazed disinterestedly at the various bright display windows showing off the latest gadgets and products for sale. There was a low roar of mingled discussions and murmurings all around him, coupled with blaring car-pod horns and whizzing air-bikes.

Just a typical day in a typical district in a typical city in a typical world. The same droning routine every single day.

Unless one could count the dreams.

Kurogane sighed and turned the corner, nearly tripping on a small creature's bauble due to being lost in his thoughts and not paying attention to where he was going.

"That's mine," the green-colored creature hissed, sticking out a long appendage to pull the shiny object closer.

Kurogane shook his head and continued along his way. Ever since he could remember, his world had been full of strange creatures from other worlds that came for some reason or other; either for a change of scenery, either for a better life... The small gargal did not worry him in the least. They were too weak and too insignificant to be of any threat. But then again, not all aliens were like that, he reflected drearily as he crossed the street. Some were larger in size, and exceedingly more intelligent than other races. Those were the kinds he had to worry about.

It took him the better part of a half hour to reach his house on foot. He pulled out his keys and let himself in after unlocking the door and closing it behind him. Shrugging off his jacket, he ran a hand through his wet hair and tossed the shopping bag on the kitchen table. He began to rummage through the fridge, pushing tupperwares and food farther back to make room for the new foodstuff he had acquired. Unlike most of his neighbors and fellow associates, Kurogane led a rather old-fashioned kind of life. He refused to nourish himself by eating plastic tablets, which was the new fad of late, and he found it absolutely unnecessary to have a persocom at his immediate disposal. Robots that weren't distinguishable from humans creeped him out for some reason.

On any other ordinary day, Kurogane's schedule would have been different. He would have gone to the office in the morning, gone shopping for necessities in the afternoon, and then, after fixing up something to survive on for a couple of days, he would get down to writing his articles for the news-disc. But now, thanks to Eriol, he had more than enough free time on his hands... and he didn't even know what to do with it.

After stowing away all the foodstuff, he climbed up the stairs to his room. Seating himself at his desk, he looked around him restlessly. It was a medium-sized room with a double-width bed, large airy windows, and an old-fashioned desk complete with the latest computer model. He was restless, that he knew for certain, and he also knew that the only way to get rid of his restlessness would be to concentrate on what comforted him.

He turned on the computer and inserted his password, and, soon enough, he had opened a blank document. Hesitating only for a moment, his hands hovering over the keypad, he wondered blankly how he would find the right words to describe all of his mixed emotions of late. Shrugging, he knew that it did not really matter if he made any sense, as long as he could convey what he felt. He flexed his fingers slightly, and then, he began to write.

Quinttem 27, 3643

I've been seeing the same dream every single night for the past three months. I'm some sort of ancient warrior, who returns home after a long and tiring journey. A great castle always looms before me, of a peculiar workmanship that I have never seen the likes of before, except in history books...

At that point, Kurogane paused, his fingers poised above the keyboard, as if in deep thought. None of his words sounded any good. Sticking his tongue between his teeth, he started writing again.

The style in architecture reminds me of a place that has long since disappeared, surrendered to the modern ways of the present... an ancient beauty long since forgotten and cast aside. It reminds me of a place once called Nihon by its residents, however, it is more commonly known and referred to as Japan.

A sudden wave of homesickness overwhelmed him, causing him to blink in confusion and shake his head. Where had that feeling come from? Forcing it away, he continued.

The same procedure always takes place whenever I arrive. I climb the castle-like building and gaze down at the forest that spreads below my feet. Then I jump down into a garden with cherry trees in full bloom. The beautiful scent is overpowering, but even more overpowering is the vision of perfection I see immediately afterwards.

Now it was beginning to sound a little better. Kurogane leaned forward slightly in his seat, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in his eagerness to describe his experience.

A breathtaking beauty surrounds her form, and she appears to be as delicate as a white rose in the darkness of the night. Her bearing is regal and strong, and yet, she is weak and fragile at the same time. Her hair is soft and intoxicating, the scent always being enough to make my heart race and my senses reel. Her skin is like fine porcelain, smooth, and as delicate as she herself is. Her mouth is simultaneously seductive and desirable without any effort on her part, and her graceful movements and her feminine curves make me go mad with desire. But all of this is not enough to describe the way I feel when I gaze into her eyes... her perfect amethyst eyes...

He let out an explosive breath, tremors of heat and need building up inside of him. "Damn!" he hissed, gnashing his teeth together. The memories of his dreams were enough to make his throbbing manhood stand at attention. His eyes flitted to the screen, his expression lour. The part where he described her was the only part he was more than satisfied with the way he had expressed himself.

All this over some nonexistent girl?

He shook his head, frowning angrily. He had to get a hold of himself. It was only his imagination getting the better of him. As soon as he hammered that fact into his mind, he was sure that the dreams would stop and everything would turn back to normal.

At least he hoped so.

—

Kurogane woke with a start, his hair damp with sweat and his hands trembling violently. It was the same dream again, but even more realistic than he remembered it, for not only could he still taste her, but if he didn't know any better, he would almost swear that he could still smell the lingering scent of her hair. And, of course, the unmistakable ache in his loins still continued.

He laid back again and groaned, rubbing wearily at his face. There was something about her... something he knew he was supposed to remember, but he miserably failed to recall it.

"What the hell's wrong with me?" he whispered, his hand clenching in his hair.

Had he really fallen for some imaginary fantasy? No, that just didn't sound right. The raven-haired girl could not possibly be a figment of his imagination. There were too many details about his dreams that he knew he could not have possibly dreamed up himself. The way the moonlight had reflected upon her ebony tresses, the hue and design of her imperial garb, the garden with its numerous blossoming trees, the strange architecture of the castle...

"Hang on," he muttered. "Imperial garb?" Why the specific words? They had been impulsive, tumbling to the fore before he had even realized what he had been thinking of. He snorted in disgust. Had he fallen for some fictional princess?

Maybe he really was losing his mind.

—

"Well, the good news is that all the witnesses were most certainly telling us the truth. None of their views conflicted with the other witnesses, and since none of them are acquainted with each other according to the police records, there's absolutely no chance that they'd agreed to say the same things just to cover up."

"And the bad news?"

Fay laughed weakly. "I was afraid you'd be asking about the bad news."

"Don't keep me waiting or I might just cut the transmission, and that would mean a big hole in your savings," Kurogane said with an impatient snarl. "Spill."

The holographic image of the blond appeared hesitant at first. "Um... Syaoran-kun doesn't think it was a random robbery."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because of a strange substance he noticed on the high-security vault's walls. It's similar to some sort of corrosive liquid, but it didn't burn him when he fingered it. We took a sample and once we return we're going to have it analyzed by Sakura-chan."

Kurogane blinked in confusion. "Who's that?"

"Oh..." Fay's smile became sly. "She's a doctor... or is she a scientist? She's quite knowledgeable in both biological and chemical branches, anyhow. I don't quite recall what the specific term is..."

"Biochemist," Kurogane supplied. "At least that's what it's called if you're referring to someone who studies the chemistry of living organisms."

"I suppose that's what she must be, then." His smile grew bigger. "And she's Syaoran-kun's unofficial girlfriend," he added with a smirk.

Kurogane arched an eyebrow. "Unofficial?" he echoed. "How can someone be termed 'unofficial' in that case?"

"Oh, the two of them like each other all right, but none of them's making a move."

"Figures," he snorted dismissively. "That kid doesn't have the guts to do anything."

"Though he does appear to be pretty gutsy as a reporter," Fay pointed out innocently.

Kurogane gave him a flat gaze as he took a long drink from his coffee. Did he have to be reminded of the fact?

"Anyhow, I'd better disconnect. I'm running rather low on extra change. I just wanted to tell you that we'll probably be back by tonight."

"Traffic that bad, huh?" Kurogane winced sympathetically.

"Remember the time we were stuck in a space shuttle for three days straight with that zeliot beside us?" Fay chuckled.

"Don't remind me," he groaned, smacking his forehead. "I swear, it must've taken all of my willpower to keep myself from making a scene."

"Well, good thing you didn't because I've heard that zeliots can get pretty nasty when they put their minds to it." He sighed theatrically. "Ah, those were the good old days!"

"You actually liked the way that zeliot stank?" Kurogane asked him incredulously. "Not even you can be such an idiot!"

"No, silly! I was referring to—"

But what exactly Fay was referring to, Kurogane never found out, for the blond's face flickered and vanished. Obviously, the pay phone he had been using had finally managed to consume all of his spare change.

Kurogane drummed his fingers on the table beside him. Well, at least Fay and Syaoran seemed to be doing just fine with handling the robbery. He had been half-dreading and half-hoping that they would be total incompetents without him to lead them, but it looked like they were more than all right... without him.

He exhaled and rubbed at his tired eyes. A phone call at the crack of dawn had not helped his mood in the slightest. He got to his feet and stripped off his shirt. Since he was up and fully awake, he might as well take a shower.

The water was cold and refreshing in the heat of summer. He stood for a moment under the shower head, completely still as he savored the way the water managed to cool down his overheated body. Although he found it annoying that Fay had called him earlier than he would have liked, he had not been awakened by the call. He had already been up, doing his morning exercises. And trying not to focus too much on the dream.

It was only when he had stepped out of the shower, rubbed himself dry, and pulled on a pair of black jeans when he heard the unmistakable sound of creaking floorboards on the stairs. He raised his head, his red eyes narrowing suspiciously as his hands formed instinctive fists.

Someone else was in his house.

He crept to the bathroom door and carefully opened it a crack, peering out. No one was down the hallway. He opened it wider and slipped out, closing the door quietly behind him. He proceeded on silent feet (as he was barefoot, his footsteps made no sound in the carpet), hugging the wall as he made his way toward the stairway. He would intercept whoever it was and demand his business in his house. At least, that was what he planned to do once he caught the culprit. How he would catch him was another matter he hadn't thought of yet.

There was another creak of the floorboards, and a hushed whisper. Kurogane couldn't make out the whispered conversation, but, judging by the voices, they were more than he had anticipated.

This complicated matters. Kurogane decided that it would be wiser to intercept them somewhere else, where he would be at an advantage. If they were common thieves, they would probably make a run for it if he surprised them. The top of the stairs seemed an appropriate place. He suddenly frowned. Since when did he become such an expert on planning out strategies for upcoming fights?

Ignoring the strange feeling, he crouched low and tentatively looked down at the stairs below him. He pulled back with a sharp intake of breath. There were five of them! Now what was he going to do?

One of them had obviously heard his gasp, for he heard an angry shout and a thunder of feet started running up the stairs. Kurogane gritted his teeth and raised his fists, standing his ground. The five intruders soon managed to climb up and stood before him. They wore clothes that were worn with age and reeked of sewage and grime. They were obviously homeless vagabonds; common, but desperate thieves, by the looks of them.

"I thought you said he'd be at work, damn it," one of them rasped to the man beside him.

"What do we do with him?" another asked.

"We'll tie him and gag him, of course. Can't have him up and about while we try to take his things, can we?"

"You guys think I'm just gonna let you take that kind of liberty with me?" Kurogane snorted derisively. "I don't think so."

"Oh, so the guy can talk. I thought he was paralyzed with fear," one of them guffawed.

"He's pretty spunky for a pampered rich man, but I doubt he's strong enough to face us," another agreed, grinning sinisterly. "Looks prissy."

"I'll make sure he never talks again," the last hissed, running his thumb along a rusty-looking vibroknife.

It was not apparent who was the leader, for all of them looked equally hardened and experienced, but Kurogane was sure that the one with the vibroknife would make the first move, which was proved when the burly man ran forward to intercept him. Kurogane narrowed his eyes and leapt out of the way, bringing his fist into the side of the man's head. The thief dropped the vibroknife and staggered, falling to the ground.

Another had pulled out two small disc-like objects with narrow, deadly-looking blades at the side, and he flung them at Kurogane's face, but he nimbly jumped out of the way and gripped his wrist, twisting it with a sharp snap as he delivered a kick at his crotch. He whirled around and elbowed another who had been about to slash at him with another vibroknife. Then he had to duck as the slash-discs came flying back, lodging themselves in the wall where he had just been.

Another lunged at him, but Kurogane brought his hand down upon his arm with all the strength he could muster, breaking his arm. The man cried out in pain and fell to his knees, just as another darted past him, aiming another slash-disc at Kurogane's head. Kurogane grabbed the disc out of mid-air and flicked it back at the man who had thrown it, causing a deep gash to appear along his upper arm, just as Kurogane kicked out at another and broke the attacker's leg. The man grunted and tried to stab at him with a vibroknife.

As Kurogane stepped back to avoid it, he was suddenly thrown down onto the ground, his arms wound behind his back and a hand pressing his face into the carpet. "Just shoot him in the head already!" a voice above him snapped.

Kurogane saw the man's feet by his head step back a bit. He heard the sound of a weapon being loaded, and a click that informed him that the disc-gun was ready. He gritted his teeth and struggled to free himself, but the man on top of him simply pushed his face deeper into the carpet. He was done for if the disc managed to penetrate his skull.

"Hold the fucking bastard still so I can aim!"

Kurogane's eyes flashed as he was struck with a sudden inspiration. He tensed himself, then kicked out, flinging his body to the side at the same time.

By doing thus, Kurogane managed to break free from the man's hold, and he swung his leg underneath the man with the disc-gun, tripping him as he dropped the weapon. Springing to his feet, Kurogane grabbed the gun and aimed it at the man's head. "Any last words?" he snarled.

The man's eyes widened fearfully. His remaining comrades, their weapons held weakly in their hands, faltered.

"Do you give up?"

The two remaining men exchanged looks and threw down their weapons.

"Good," Kurogane grunted in satisfaction. He kept the disc-gun aimed at them, his hand sure and steady, as he dialed a number on the screen on the wall.

Soon enough, the police arrived to cart the ruffians away, and after being asked several questions and answering them, Kurogane was left once again alone in the silence of his small home. He stood still for a time, his mind swimming with numerous thoughts, before he shook his head and hastily made for the kitchen. After rummaging through the fridge, he quickly drank over half a beer in one swallow. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, which was shaking slightly.

He did not know how to fight. He had no idea how he had even managed to stay alive. They had been experienced fighters by the looks of them, a street gang that would not have hesitated to dispose of anyone in their path to achieve their ends. But during the scuffle, Kurogane had felt as if he had not been able to control his own limbs; as if someone far more experienced in the matter had taken control over him for the sole purpose of defeating them.

But how was that even possible? And if it was, then who had done it?

But, more importantly, why had it happened?

—

Crickets chirped belatedly in the stillness of the dark night, accompanied by other sounds often heard in the sleepy hours after the sun has long since set. The hot summer's dryness had faded as the temperature always dropped with nightfall, and a cool breeze wafted in, rustling the curtains.

The small room was flooded with the faint moonlight from the half-open window, spilling over Kurogane's immobile form as he slumbered. He was half-covered with his bed sheet, his chest rising steadily with his even breathing. His visage appeared calm, restive, but that was soon to change.

Kurogane...

His brow creased momentarily, and the line of his mouth tightened. There it was again. The call that would interrupt his sleep each and every night. He shifted slightly, making a soft sound in his throat, as if trying to subconsciously force himself to awaken, and then he was pulled once more into the unmistakable swirls of his dreams.

But this time, his dream was terrifyingly different.

He found himself in a barren wasteland, with smoking remnants of what were once buildings spreading out all around him. Rubble and debris littered the ground, with the stone foundations of the once large building half-standing. Orange flames flickered and danced as they licked and devoured what little wood in the area had remained, and the unmistakable reek of it was everywhere.

The unmistakable reek of blood, that appeared to have sunk like a disease into the very pores of the earth.

Kurogane's hand flinched in his sleep and his frown grew more prominent. There was something wrong, something dreadfully wrong with the scene. He felt that something had happened that was not meant to have happened, and he did not want to see it. But he was dragged back down into his slumber, and so, he had no choice but to return to the battlefield.

Through dazed and detached eyes, he saw a dark shape through the smoke, and he heard the unmistakable sound of hooves. A strange carriage-like vehicle pulled by a horse approached him, accompanied by a tall and slim figure upon a magnificent mount bearing the symbol of the sun. The shapes came to a halt several feet away from him.

"There he is," the rider on the horse said in a voice devoid of emotions. "Suwa's young lord." The rider raised their left hand to remove their elaborate golden helmet to reveal the apparently young face of a woman. "My name is Amaterasu," she introduced herself formally, her expression grave. "Empress of Nihon."

Kurogane made no effort to acknowledge her, nor to respond. For some reason, speech was lost upon him.

"The miko whose kekkai protects Suwa has passed away," Amaterasu continued, as another woman with dark olive skin approached, her melancholy eyes gazing at the wreckage with the look of one who has seen such destruction before. "Just as my younger sister Tsukuyomi saw in her dream." Amaterasu glanced back to the carriage. "If the demons have penetrated Suwa, then the leader of Suwa's warriors has..." The words remained unsaid as she turned away from the wreckage. "The demons attacked the region." She drew herself up, her eyes fixed upon his unmoving form. "But then, it appears that you have already defeated most of them."

Kurogane did not answer, his left hand tightening around a silver sword, and his right hand tightening around the lifeless body he cradled.

The lifeless body of a woman with a gaping hole in her chest and wide, vacant eyes.

Kurogane turned on his side in his sleep, the cords of his neck standing out as he ground his teeth together, his brow wrinkled in confusion and recognition. His forehead glistened with cold sweat, and his fists were clenched in the bed sheet. But he did not wake; he continued to dream.

To dream a nightmare.

Amaterasu nudged her horse toward him. However, her mount had hardly taken a step forward when he grasped the sword in his right hand and swung it above his head, a ripple of intense energy racing toward her. Her mount braced itself and she raised her own sword to absorb the most of his attack. But even though the energy-ripple subsided, it did not leave her unscathed.

"Empress Amaterasu!"

The force of the wind passing her had been enough for a fresh cut to adorn her left cheek.

"You! How dare you draw your sword against the Empress!"

Many of her warriors, who had not been evident at first behind the carriage, leapt forward, their spears brandished menacingly and their expressions scandalized and outraged.

"Wait," Amaterasu commanded. "It might be impossible for the common soldiers to stop him." She turned to the olive-skinned woman on foot beside her. "Souma."

"As you wish," the woman replied with a respective nod.

Souma flicked her right hand, and five warriors garbed in black stood up at her command. They pulled out short swords strapped at their waists and leapt into the air, hurtling toward him.

Unperturbed by the sudden attack, Kurogane raised his right hand once more, the dead woman still cradled in his other arm. A massive ripple of energy, almost like electricity, shot forth from the blade and flung the warriors aside. Some landed upon their feet, while others landed upon their backs, but they sprang up again without hesitation to attack him.

Kurogane lurched unsteadily to his feet, his arm still wound protectively around the dead woman's waist. One of the black-garbed warriors lunged at him, but Kurogane expertly blocked the blow and forced him away. His blade sheared through another's side, and he sliced open another's back, his eyes still as wide as ever and his breath coming out in rasps. He was obviously still in shock for some reason, but his shock did not affect his senses or his reflexes.

The warriors backed away, clutching at their bleeding wounds, their eyes wide in fear.

"My ninja can't get control of him, either..." Souma said in dismay.

"The lord of Suwa was a strong person," Amaterasu said softly. "Surely he looked forward to the day when his own son would grow up and surpass him. However"—Kurogane snarled in fury and sliced open another ninja—"right now, the young lord seems to have lost his sense of self. Naturally, he can't help it, but there may be no way to reason with him." She closed her eyes in resignation. "However, I cannot allow this to continue." She hefted her sword and straightened. "If he doesn't stop..."

"Please, wait, Onee-sama," a small voice said.

Amaterasu turned in the saddle to see that the drapes obscuring the carriage's view of the onslaught were parted, a petite figure hovering timidly behind them. "Tsukuyomi," she said, half-expectantly, half-exasperatedly.

The petite figure was that of a young girl with a pale complexion, long raven hair, and beautiful amethyst eyes. Her expression conveyed a number of emotions, but the most apparent of them was that she appeared determined. "Onee-sama," she said in a soft, melodious voice, "if you try to stop him, he's capable of defeating you with one blow, as well." She clasped her hands together. "It would be better if you entrusted this matter to me."

Amaterasu did not reply, but she bowed her head and closed her eyes, giving her younger sister her silent consent.

The petite girl half-closed her eyes, a glowing sphere of light forming between the palms of her hands with a peculiar ideogram in the center. With sure and steady steps, she approached the heart of chaos.

Kurogane swung savagely at the ninja opposing him, ignoring their screams and shrieks of pain. But as he sensed the approaching figure, his eyes widened even more, and he turned to face her.

They seemed frozen together in silence, each contemplating the other, as if they were the only ones left in all the world.

The small girl then extended her arm and a powerful beam of light short forth, piercing Kurogane's left hand and pinning him onto the wall behind him.

Kurogane gasped in surprise and screamed in pain, a fountain of blood seeping down from his hand as he dropped the sword and the woman. It was pain, pain beyond belief, and it was almost more than he could stand. He narrowed his eyes in angry determination and began to pull his hand away from the glowing shaft of light, but blood continued to ooze from his stiff and outstretched fingers, his whole arm steadily numbing from the pain.

Kurogane twisted in his bed, gasping for breath, as if trying to flee from the horrors he was witnessing. But he still would not wake, no matter how much he strained his body, seeking release. He was trapped in his vision, and there was no escape. Not even the pain was enough to wake him.

The small girl had been steadily approaching him all the while, and his eyes widened in fear as she neared.

She raised a hand in supplication. "Don't move," she cautioned him gently.

Kurogane's gasps and cries of pain were still audible enough to be heard, and he made to move forward, his eyes still wide in their unwavering look of unspeakable horror and his lips drawn back like a wild animal.

"Tsukuyomi-sama!" Souma gasped and involuntarily took a step forward.

Amaterasu silenced her with a swift look. "Tsukuyomi wished to come with us to the battlefield to watch, despite knowing that there was danger here."

"But...!" Souma nervously looked over to her petite ruler.

However, Kurogane did not make a move to attack the small Tsukuyomi. He had simply leaned forward to draw the woman's lifeless form back into his embrace, as if to protect her. Only when the small girl drew nearer, her hand outstretched toward him, did Kurogane draw in his breath sharply, his wide eyes narrowing in hostility.

But the small girl made no move to attack him. She simply knelt down and closed the dead woman's eyes with her hand. She looked up at the stunned boy, her violet eyes mirroring her concern. "You should let your mother rest in peace," she whispered, and both that simple phrase and gesture were enough to draw him out of his madness.

Kurogane's irises slowly returned to their normal size. He looked down at the woman he held onto. "Haha... ue," he croaked hoarsely. His eyes then drifted to the silver sword. "Chichi-ue..."

All of the memories came flooding back to him: his mother's body falling when she had been pierced by the mysterious sword that had broken through her kekkai, the demons that had swarmed the compound the moment her life had finally slipped away, the image of his father's arm still carrying his silver sword in its eternal death-grip in the jaws of one of the demons...

Kurogane's eyes glistened as the tears came unabated, streaming down his face as the stark reality of his loss finally managed to sink in. He sobbed his heart out on that pitiless night of destruction, but he was not alone. The young girl by his side comforted him with soothing words, and although he knew that he had seen her before, he was at a loss to say how it was possible.

Only then, did he manage to wake from the living nightmare.

Kurogane's eyes snapped open as he found himself in his bed, safe from the horrors of his nightmare. His whole body was drenched in sweat, and he shuddered and gnashed his teeth together as the excruciating pain from the wound in his dream still lingered. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. It had only been a dream, he reminded himself firmly. But if that was so... then why did his hand still hurt so much? And why couldn't he move his fingers? His gaze shifted to his left and he gasped in horror.

His hand was bleeding.

To Be Continued

Some terms I created/borrowed/twisted/etc. to make a proper science fiction setting:

News-disc: Newspaper. No longer on paper, but in electronic form. Like the devices used to read electronic books.

Visualist: Someone who takes mini-videos that are used in articles, who might be the future substitutes for photographers. Imagine that we'll actually have moving pictures in future newspapers (or, in this case, news-discs).

Disc-slot: The front page of a news-disc.

Quinttem: The fifth month. Considering that it's been hundreds of years, months and days would now have different names, right?

The terms vibroknife, slash-disc, and disc-gun are terms I got from a science fiction novel. Like here, they were terms used for weapons.