It started with rain, and began with rain.

Rain. Precipitation. Pleut. Everyone knows it.

It's always thought of as something that unfolds a dramatic event, something saddening, something grief-filled. But it's not that, not really. All it is, is the clouds above, swollen and blooming exploding and millions of their tiny water-children will drop hundreds of thousands of feet onto the earth below. It's a simple geographical fact, an event that isn't to do with any higher being or fate itself. It's the earth's way of drinking, its own dripping faucet for its dehydrated land. And it was then, on that night that my journey began once again. They say one's life only truly begins after a specific event. Some think it's when they find their love, or when they birth their child. But it's wrong what they think. For no one's life truly begins at one point; it merely gets more interesting. Which is what I found out...

It was a late night in February, the season typical for that type of weather, and the rain was unrelenting in its determination to soak any passer-by on the streets of Tokyo. It filled the gaping holes of any imperfections in the street and gaping cracks in pavements ran the water like newly sprung rivers into the gutters. The people on the streets walked quickly, their coats plastered to them tightly partly to do with their desire to keep it from flying away and also from the sheer force of the rain.

And in the dark of an alleyway, a figure stepped out of the gloom as though melting into the scenery. It was distinctly female; the only sign of that being true was the swell of her breasts underneath the fabric of a cloak and the slight hint of an hourglass figure as it swept down to her ankles. It was a slender figure, one that looked as though it might snap if someone brushed past her too roughly. Some would think she was an extremely frail young woman, but the more observant ones would know that she was late in her teenage years, possibly eighteen. The only thing visible was a pair of vivid blue eyes glowing like the reignited ashes of a fire under a hood. It was a curious trait for eyes of such a colour to perform, but these were not seemingly usual eyes. They weren't the generic ocean-blue eyes many were used to seeing; these were far more diluted, more ice blue than anything else. One could relate them to the eyes of the Husky.

The rain didn't seem to bother her, as she carried no umbrella nor did her coat look altogether waterproof. In fact, the rain peppered the dark material and slowly began to darken its hue as she moved away from shelter underneath the shops beside the pavement and began to walk a little faster than the others around her. The strides were long and sweeping, something not distinctly feminine despite her gait being very flowing and liquid, and the people hurrying to the next point of shelter looked like scuttling bugs in her wake. She then turned sharply to the left and veered off from the main town and into the more rural areas of the land. Many passers-by shook their heads at her and looked disbelievingly. In this weather, taking that path wouldn't be the best move. The ground would turn more than sodden in this state- it would turn to a slippery mud bath. Anyone would think twice about going in that direction, let alone a female of her slightness.

But once her feet touched the path, she threw her hood back to reveal a small, elvin face and short, cropped hair stuck up in lashings of purple spikes. There were a few light marks criss-crossing along the right side of her cheek, and one even snaked up across her eye. These scars however didn't seem to hinder her in any way either- she almost seemed proud of them. She cast her eyes around the street where she'd previously tread and noticed a mother and child walking past the opening.

The child, a young girl, was clutching hold of her mother's hand and squinting through the torrential downpour she'd been dragged out into, and her large hazel eyes suddenly caught onto the girl's shape. The child froze amid irritated tugs from her mother. The teenager raised her head and looked the girl in the eye, raising a thin finger to her pale lips. And with that, she swept away at a pace so fast that once the child had blinked, she was gone. And all she could see was a much smaller four-legged figure racing up the path with urgency in its stride. Almost animal-like...

"What are you looking at?!" The mother snapped, giving her daughter's hand another tug.

"...I don't know." The child admitted, and as she was hauled away she tried her best to follow the animal's progress up the track.