Past and Future - - - People had always thought that it was strange that they were friends. Shizuru and Natsuki should have hated each other. It was painfully evident how antipodal they were – motor oil and tea didn't mix. Former classmates and friends who said they had nothing in common proved that, by saying that, they truly didn't know either woman. They were exactly the same. They had simply found different ways to handle the weight they each carried. They'd known each other for a few short years, but because of their common history, their bond was perhaps stronger than those found between people who had known each other for their entire lives. - - - Kaichou-sama was an elegant and regal woman who was brought up in a well to do family and was treated to the very best. Her family was sure to own private estates in both the States and Europe, and well, she would naturally go on holiday to these exotic locales without a second thought. She spent her free time shopping, because what she considered change was nothing less than an entire month's paycheck for most people. She drove a sports car. She was the quintessential Kyoto lady, grounded in tradition and well versed in culture and etiquette. Her accent could melt anyone's heart. Her smile could calm anyone's nerves. But Fujino Shizuru and the kaichou-sama were completely different people. Fujino Shin had introduced her to many aspects of the Kyoto culture. She wore kimonos and studied how to perform a proper tea ceremony. She practiced with a naginata two hours a day after school. He had never been overbearing. He simply wanted to introduce her to that side of her heritage, as well as her mother's. She remembered her father's smile as an adult, and how it was always bittersweet. He was so proud of his daughter and how mature she was at such a young age. Yet, Shizuru knew full well that in some darker part of her father's mind, he blamed her for the death of his wife. Milena Dragunova had been a very strong woman, but the complicated birth had stripped her of that strength. She had passed away a few hours after delivery. Shin and Milena had been absolutely dedicated to each other. When one left, the other whithered away. Shizuru remembered her father drinking quite a bit, though he always tried to hide it from her. Despite his depression, he always smiled for her. But he died. And she had nothing. As a girl, Shizuru was quiet. That wonderful accent hadn't been with her then. Her speech drifted between a Russian and Kyoto accent awkwardly and without warning. She was quiet, but prone to fighting if anyone insulted her, coming home with black eyes and bruises (though the other child had certainly fared worse). She had no friends. She didn't care to have any. She'd been made fun of too much for it to be worth it. His family members, who had disapproved of Shin only lightly introducing her to Japanese culture, proceeded to shove it down her throat. They refused to let her continue to be fascinating by her mother's side of the family. In that year that she fell under the 'care' of her other aunt, she was not allowed see Tanya. She forgot how to speak the Russian tongue. She grew to hate her father's ancestry, despite her casual attitude towards aspects of it later on. You're going back to Tanya. You clearly cannot handle this kind of life. You're worthless to us. We want nothing to do with someone so barbaric and uncouth. Damn foreigner. Dropped off at the pound like an unwanted puppy snubbed by an ungrateful child who did not approve of the gift. She was treated like garbage that had to be disposed of. It was all right. The reunion between Tanya and Shizuru had been filled with joyous tears and an ample amount of hugs. It was then she began to heal, though much of the damage had been done. She didn't speak much. She had become afraid of her embarrassing dual accent, which she had been punished for time and time again. It had been stomped out, but her silence remained. By the time she entered junior high at Fuuka, she became aware of just how alone she really was. Oddly enough, the realization came when she suddenly found herself popular and the subject of a wealth of entirely false rumors (she was not rich, she had no estates; she ate tv dinners, wore second hand clothes or a few old kimonos when not in uniform, and had no money to go shopping with). Students followed her around and worshiped the ground she walked on. They treated her like she was above everyone. It was because of that that she realized how alone she was. People would rather have believed in her false identity than the real one. She didn't like being worshiped. She wanted to be normal. Of course, the only one who treated her differently was a younger girl who she had found in the rose garden wearing that same angry, yet yearning, expression she herself did when no one else was around. Like Shizuru at a young age, the girl had shoved her away and tried to react violently to further teasing and taunting, even if it had all been in jest. It was then Shizuru proved she was not a rich girl, but was in fact a lowly poor girl who had even less to her name than Natsuki herself did. She sensed her own problems within Natsuki. Shizuru, though she had never acted that way before, felt her heart cry out with longing. She had finally found someone who could possibly understand. She pursued and clung on to her, which she had never done to anyone before. Their friendship was slow to start, but there was no question that Shizuru loved her. The first friend she had ever had. - - - Natsuki hadn't been exposed to heartache as early as Shizuru had. Perhaps that was how she ended up even more hostile towards emotional connections. She remembered, quite clearly, what caring relatives had been like before having it all torn apart. She had noted tension between her parents, yes, but was too blissfully ignorant to understand it. She came running into her mothers office and into an embrace, and remembered her father doting upon her. When he was away, there was always Sakomizu's company to enjoy. Then, before she even knew it, she was throwing her head up out of the water and gasping for breath, a large gash on her young head. She only barley knew how to swim, and flailed her limbs to avoid going under. She tossed her head around, looking for her beloved mother, but she was no where to be found. The water was black. She wouldn't have been able to spot anything, regardless. Survival instinct kicking in, she scrambled to the rocks in the distance, latching on to one. There she sat, shivering for hours until she was just shy of hypothermia, until Sakomizu found her and rescued her. She stayed with him for a few weeks while contact was attempted with her father overseas. He came back, making sure she was all right. She reached out to hug him, but he refused. "Natsuki, Daddy is a very busy man. I do not have time to watch after you. I'm going to take you to some friends, and you're going to stay there for a little while, all right?" She was then handed over to a couple she didn't even know. She wondered if he even knew them. She ran away from her foster family several times, heading straight to Sakomizu. Every time, he brought her back, though it broke his heart to do so. Had he kept her, they would have accused him of kidnapping. Through her father's cold dismissal, leaving her with strangers, she grew to hate. She hated him, she hated the assholes who killed her mother, she hated the world. Sakomizu had always told her to calm down and to focus on school, but she couldn't. She wanted to know everything that had happened. She wanted to know who did and why. She wanted to know why her father had so coldly tossed her away. She wanted her old life back. Bitter, she lashed out at other children and got into fights. She had transferred to three schools in just two years. She was brilliant, but did not apply herself. She focused more on releasing her anger. She had once built up the nerve to march up to her father at the age of twelve, demanding answers as to why he didn't care about any of it. He gave her a cold look. Natsuki. He looked right into her eyes. I doubted you were mine even from the time you were born, but I raised you as my own, regardless. As you grow, I see less of myself in your features, if at all. I give you enough money to live. Is that not enough? Be grateful you get that. I'm no longer married to your mother, and am thus no longer obligated to rear her children. I have an actual family now. Please stay out of it. After she'd said a few colorful words, that had been the last time she spoke to him. After that, she had devoted her life to finding out the truth behind Searrs. She'd curiously gotten an invitation to Fuuka Academy via a scholarship she curiously hadn't applied for. She accepted merely out of suspicion, but her investigations had turned up fruitless. She didn't pay much attention to the school itself. She preferred to observed from a distance, hating her peers and especially her superiors. Then, there was that obnoxious spoiled rich girl who kept bothering her after spouting out some quasi-philosophical bullshit to her in the rose garden. She just kept on pestering her. Didn't she see that Natsuki wanted to be left the hell alone? She didn't care about socializing any more. She had a mission, and people proved to be too untrustworthy to be worth the time. She just wouldn't leave her alone. Very slowly, after their initial butting of heads (and the butting of Natsuki's head on the sidewalk) she began to see that Fujino Shizuru was not spoiled at all. In fact, she never asked for a single thing but Natsuki's company and offered far more in return. Natsuki was slow to build trust, but found herself enjoying the woman's presence. Shizuru helped her focus on school, and, at times, with skipping it. Shizuru was not afraid of her motorcycle and accompanied her on travels throughout the region. She provided a source of comfort and advice. Natsuki grew to respect her. Then she grew to love her, though she didn't want to admit it. She broke a cardinal rule. She was supposed to be independent. She'd gotten used to Shizuru. She had gotten used to her presence and her love, and had not encountered competition for Shizuru's affections. She took it for granted and became almost dependent on it, though she didn't let it show. There was no one else who had ever shared so much in common with her. No one who could have possibly understood. They had both lost their mother. They had both been rejected by what family remained, treated like they were less than human, and latched on to Tanya and Sakomizu respectively. They had no friends, both too violent and strange to let anyone in. All they had was loneliness. Natsuki had gotten used to it and refused to allow anyone into her heart out of fear that she would lose sight of her task, or worse, that Searrs would use them against her. She pulled away. Shizuru, in contrast, had merely wanted one person to understand and truly listen to her. She pushed forward. Under all her apathy and under her gruff exterior, Kuga Natsuki needed Fujino Shizuru. She loved her. She had just never properly voiced that until it was too late. - - - It felt as if she were viewing the world through a distorted lens. Things were warped and distorted. Familiar faces looked alien to her. Everything around her spun. Her skin was coated in cold sweat. Her body had been shivering as if she were enduring a high fever. She suppressed it. Had it been anyone else, as evidenced by Shiho losing her mind, they would have been panicking and erratic in their psychosis. But in the great nightmare she could not wake from, Shizuru remained calm. Only she had the willpower to do so. She was ruled by the aggression, hate and anger that she had suppressed many years ago, all of it bubbling to the surface now that it had found a way out. Her fists shook with rage, both towards Searrs and anyone that would hurt Natsuki, and towards Natsuki herself. Not fair. She had done nothing to deserve it. After all Shizuru had done for her, Natsuki had no right to look at her like a monster. The slaughter was a faint and hazy memory, though it had only concluded a few short hours ago – or so she assumed. She had felt drugged the entire time. Her eyes had focused on nothing. Her body had succumbed to some dark and primal desire to kill. Her bardiche had torn its way through victim after victim, blood left splattered on the ground, the buildings, and her own flesh. Mangled corpses littered the streets in the private sector that had belonged to the First District. Agents and subordinates of Searrs, pathetic underlings, bought off police – there was no favoritism. They all went. Her mind watched through that distorted lens, helpless and unaware of what her body was doing. Her lips had twitched into a smile, followed by a sick and mindless laugh. It had been so easy. So very easy. Her darker half found that utterly amusing. All that was left after that was to wait. She stalked back towards the Academy. At times, her bardiche rested on her weary and unstable shoulders. By the time she neared the building she essentially held dominion over, she was dragging her bardiche by the shaft, the blade screeching along the ground with every step she took. The school ahead was unrecognizable to her eyes. It spun and danced before her, though her feet seemed to know right were to go, as if guided by some otherworldly power. She felt... almost like a puppet being moved about. All she had to do was wait. Her hands, numb and cold, went about business as if there was nothing wrong. A warm cup of tea eventually found its way up to her lips, and she drank. She sat. She waited. Natsuki would return. She always did. Her eyes rolled back, almost as if she were going to pass out, but she forced herself to regain focus. There was absolutely no going back now. I'm worthless now, aren't I? Even if Natsuki hated her for all eternity, Shizuru had liberated her from the First District. The world in which she waited was dark, frightening and alien. The council room looked as if it were in hell itself. She wanted to scream. But she waited, idly drinking her tea as if by instinct. She waited for someone to liberate her. Natsuki yelling, Natsuki hitting – anything to drag her out of this realm. And then, at long last, she was there. Even if only hate remained. Shizuru's eyes rolled up and she grinned as the motorcycle crashed into the room. The haze cleared just enough for her to regain the ability to stand. Natsuki was there to kill her, was she not? Like a drowning victim, Shizuru just wanted to latch onto her and hold her, because just maybe Natsuki could have pulled her out from the abyss. But no... she pointed a pistol at her and yelled. That wouldn't do. She couldn't lose a savior so quickly. Her body stood and her mind watched. In those moments, she likened Natsuki to a goddess. From within Shizuru's hell, Natsuki was the source and resolution to her condition. She had tempted her and planted sinful thoughts in her mind, and had condemned her to this suffering in return. Now she was so lost that only the source had the power to bring her back. Shizuru cursed her for how unfairly treated she was, yet begged her for forgiveness and liberation. If she had to force her way out of hell, then she would try. Anyone, anyone at all... I just don't want to be alone anymore... Her Element returned automatically, and she batted away every shot. Their fight began. Shizuru's lips moved and she spoke, but in her daze, she wasn't quite sure what she said. And then, Duran... no longer a dwarf, but a giant monument of Natsuki's hate and disgust towards her. Shizuru wept as her body lurched forward to try and get hold of the only thing that could save her. She lured her into that burned church and it was there her chance came. She trapped her love and drug her forward into an embrace. There, she felt warmth and peace. The world still spun, but she was no longer afraid of the distortion so long as that warmth remained. Please... don't let go. Natsuki began to retreat, but Shizuru could see something unusual in her eyes. When the girl drew her into a kiss, the fog cleared, though not completely. In the darkness, she saw light. Natsuki began to explain, but the tone of voice was not what she was expecting. Calm, soothing, loving. She wasn't... she didn't hate her? Natsuki, of course, told her that they could never live their lives together, but... "I also love you, Shizuru." She wanted to weep again, and felt blood rush to her cheeks, the first sign of life her body had exhibited since she lost herself. But it still wasn't right. She was still sinking. Nothing had stopped spinning. Another flash of something went through Natsuki's eyes. What...? Natsuki barked out a command for Duran to fire his cannons right into Kiyohime, which was surely going to destroy both Children at once. Shizuru's eyes widened in fear. The end. It was the end. It swept in so quickly that Shizuru's mind reeled in horror. She was surely doomed after what she had done. This would be the last time she would ever see Natsuki's face. The afterlife was not going to treat them the same. Why would she do this? Shizuru's eyes finally released their tears as guilt overwhelmed her. Natsuki wasn't supposed to go. It was not fair. Natsuki had done nothing. Shizuru was the one who deserved it; the one who needed it. The biker pulled her into a tight and possessive hug, holding her with an almost painful grip. The warmth returned, and the fear of her imminent passing gently faded a bit. The world became clear – far clearer than anything she had ever seen. Scent and feeling returned. All her senses drifted back. There, in Natsuki's arms, Shizuru was calmed and restored. Even if they would be separated, Natsuki would still be there, holding her, as they passed. Natsuki loved and forgave her, despite it all. That was the only judgment she cared about. God and the spiritual realm could do as they liked. "I'm content," Shizuru whispered. She was afraid and filled with bittersweet regret as her mortality became painfully obvious, but if Natsuki wished to take her away from torment in such a fashion, she would not object. Trembling, she faded into nothingness. - - - Natsuki's motorcycle roared through the streets of Fuuka as the vehicle took her ever closer to the academy. Haruka, Nao's mother, the members of First District... Shizuru had no right. That wasn't what Natsuki wanted at all. All this because of some sort of love Shizuru had for her? This wasn't love. It was obsession and fanaticism. But then, that wasn't even Shizuru anymore, was it? Everything was so screwed up. They'd all started losing their minds. Shiho, Fumi... all slaves and mindless, erratic murderers – stark contrasts to what they had been before. Shizuru's eyes had been hollow and lifeless, like Akane's had been after Kazuya died. She walked like the undead, failing to think beyond what her basic desires demanded from her. She was not Fujino Shizuru anymore. She was an empty shell, missing a soul and a conscience. God, that voice. That alone was enough to frighten her. Even that didn't sound like it belonged to Shizuru anymore. It had seemed painfully clear that Natsuki could not get her to stop. She'd begged and pleaded, even commanded, but Shizuru simply would not relent, as if deaf to the world around her. She marched on, slaying anything Natsuki had ever called an enemy. While Natsuki had sought vengeance, Shizuru was the one who had followed through with murderous intention. It was too much. Natsuki wasn't ready for that. Shizuru simply had to be stopped before she could harm what few HiMEs remained. In that state, she could only wreak havoc. Natsuki knew full well that she would not survive the Carnival. It was Mai's responsibility to win. It was an impossibility for Natsuki to see it to the end. Shizuru could not be left to wander about, and if one of the other HiME finished Kiyohime off, then Natsuki would vanish into thin air. Shizuru would then be pushed further into darkness, left to suffer the same pathetic fate as Akane. That, or someone would slay Shizuru directly. She gripped the handles. To have someone else kill her... she couldn't stand for that. That would be doing Shizuru a disservice. For her to end up impaled on Mikoto's claymore or burned alive by Mai's flames – it just wouldn't be right. She would die alone and afraid in that way. She set her jaw, finding the determination. If Shizuru was going to die, then Natsuki wanted to be there to protect her and hold her as they both crossed over. If she destroyed both Kiyohime and Duran at once, then it would be painless and merciful for the both of them. They would just vanish and fade away together. As the academy drew near, she summoned up the courage to undertake the task of killing herself and the only real friend she ever had. There was no proper way to start it. So, in her typical fashion, she made a grand and violent entrance, smashing into the council room with her motorcycle. Shizuru was always calm, but the real her would have at least backed away at that. She was now displaying inhuman levels of apathy, and she looked up at Natsuki with those same lifeless eyes. And, as Natsuki ordered her to stop in her madness, it was, as she expected, met with resistance. Their duel began, Natsuki heading back outside to summon up Duran with her newfound emotions. She was afraid of her. She was disturbed. She loved her regardless. That gave her the strength and the fuel to fight on. What she did not expect, however, was how big Duran had become. He was as large as Kiyohime, at the very least. A monument to her love and dedication. When Shizuru retreated into the church, something she knew was perhaps a trap, she followed. A falling bell and a quick attack by Shizuru landed Natsuki in her arms, brought there after that weapon coiled around her like a serpent and drug her in. Once there, Natsuki did not retreat. Shizuru fell against her, weak and helpless, and began to smile in a drugged fashion. She was still out of it, but content simply to be in her arms. I hate that you made me love you. But she did love her. That couldn't be denied any longer. Duran's sheer size was testament to it. As large as Kiyohime. It still surprised her. Natsuki was free to issue the order for Duran to fire at point blank, but it horrified her that Shizuru would die not knowing just how much she cared. And so, Natsuki pulled back slightly, only to come in far closer and brush her lips against the other woman's. It was light and fleeting, but it was the best Natsuki could manage, and there was genuine tenderness behind it. The first and what she thought would be the last kiss of her life. So professed her love as best as she knew how. It felt insufficient, but Shizuru blushed and seemed to be moved by it none the less. That was all Natsuki could give her. She turned around, gave the order, and snapped her head back to look into Shizuru's eyes one last time. The other woman looked rightfully stunned, but was not going to fight her. Natsuki pulled her into a tight embrace, refusing to let go and refusing to let her eyes shed tears. Shizuru hugged her, and Natsuki cradled her form as if she were a lost child. For some reason, Natsuki was not afraid as Duran's artillery shell exploded against Kiyohime, ripping both Children to bits. Her hold on Shizuru tightened. Don't be afraid. I'm not going to let you go. We'll go together. Their bodies faded into green and she felt nothing but the warmth Shizuru's form gave to her. The elder woman's eyes were teary and fearful, and yet she heard Shizuru whisper that she was, at long last, happy. The last few years they spent together flashed before her. Lost in her memories, she kept the real Shizuru's smiling face in her mind while their bodies vanished like dust in the wind. - - - The significance of Natsuki's sacrifice would not be realized by Shizuru until much later. She had, in her daze, cynically heard that though she was loved, she was not loved quite enough. Little did she realize that it was just a different type of love, perhaps an even stronger one. It was the love of a friend who was willingly walking with her into the afterlife simply so she wouldn't have to go alone. A kind of love that wasn't hindered by lust. Natsuki had been willing to stay with her for an eternity with her choice to kill the both of them. After their rebirth, Natsuki had simply allowed herself to embrace the other forms of love after learning how to accept them. The last dark element of her personality, her fearful urge to place the blame for her crimes on a scapegoat, finally gave in. She could not blame Natsuki. Natsuki had always loved her. It had hurt that she never said it, and it had crippled her to be looked on like a beast during their emotional breaking point in the Carnival, but she should have always known. There was no one to blame but herself. She could carry the weight of her sins now that she finally felt wanted as a friend. Being wanted as a lover was secondary, but just as liberating. She had been forgiven by the only person that mattered. She smiled. "Oi, what's so funny?" Natsuki stammered, fighting for breath, clearly taking that almost-but-not-quite snicker the wrong way. She blushed, wondering if she'd done something stupid and suddenly overcome with embarrassment of her lack of clothing because of her paranoia. "Nothing at all. Just happy." The smile became warmer, drifting away from mischief, as Shizuru looked down on her, pale brown locks veiling the rest of the room from the biker's vision. Still a bit tired, Shizuru's hand trembled as she caressed the side of her lover's face. She gotten to be in charge for a little while, Natsuki only relinquishing power because, in her words, Shizuru was getting 'too damn greedy.' Not that she terribly minded either way. At such a comment, and after she had returned from being lost in Shizuru's eyes, Natsuki began to smirk yet again. Shizuru sighed. There was the ego again. It still hadn't dissipated. "Yes, yes, you're very good at what you do." Shizuru slid to the side and pulled the younger woman close, her tone never rising out of the realm of sarcasm. Natsuki's hands drifted around, drawing invisible patterns onto skin. "I take it you're liking this newly discovered game, then?" "I don't know. Silent Hill is pretty adrenaline pumping. But this game is better than most, I'll admit" Natsuki said dryly. Now that her paranoia had waned, she settled back down, comfortable with the proximity. Shizuru rolled her eyes. "Ah, I see. Sex with Fujino Shizuru is entertaining, but not quite as enjoyable as bashing in an undead demon's skull with a lead pipe. There went what was left of my pride." "They're either undead or demons. They can't be both." "Please do not tell me that you're wanting to reprimand me for getting game terminology wrong at a time like this. You should be thinking of something perverse that I hope to god does not involve zombies." Despite the start of bickering, Shizuru never stopped stroking Natsuki's hair. "You've known me for years. You should have this all memorized by now," Natsuki protested. "To think that you complain about my lack of knowledge on your interests. What a hypocrite." "And what are my interests?" Shizuru ventured lazily. "Tea." "And?" "Teacups." Shizuru rolled slightly so that she could look down on her again, clearly giving her a disapproving glance. With a sigh, she said, "There is more to life than tea, however little room is left after it. This disappoints me greatly." "You have no right to start lecturing when you don't know the difference between the undead and demons when the knowledge is so vital to half of the games I play. You wouldn't last five minutes in the dark surrounded by a horde of enemies out for your blood even if you had a chainsaw," Natsuki countered, all business. "Knowledge about these kind of things could save your life." Shizuru's tongue danced on her ear and jaw. Oh, like that was going to shut her up. She wasn't going to fall for that little trick! Distraction tactics were pitiful moves made in desperation. The tongue was replaced by warm breath as she spoke again. "List an interest of mine other than tea related materials." "No. You don't get to demand such things when you don't get understand my interests properly," Natsuki argued. She shut her eyes as Shizuru returned to her distraction tactic. Natsuki frowned and gritted her teeth. "That isn't going to work, you know. I won't... I... quit it." "Fine." Shizuru withdrew and rolled onto her other side, facing away from Natsuki without saying another word. Oh, dammit, that was plan B, wasn't it? Get her all bothered and then actually quit upon what should have obviously been a very fake request. Natsuki stared at her back for several long moments. Well, dammit, now she wanted the attention. "You like spears." "Do better." Natsuki growled and attempted to pull Shizuru back towards her, but it didn't work. She fought back, never moving. Natsuki dug her nails into the side of the other girl. Lowered a hand down across her stomach. Nothing worked. Natsuki grumbled and said, "Your favorite movie is Rocky Horror. Your favorite television show is nothing because you don't like television. Your favorite composer is Wagner. You hate Shakespeare with a passion because you think all he ever did was rip off existing stories. You like to go hiking..." Shizuru rolled back around, facing Natsuki, who was now preoccupied with listing off anything Shizuru loved or hated. She was silenced by a soft kiss from the elder girl, who parted and said. "Okay, you win." "Of course I do. I always win." Shizuru kissed her again, still slow and gentle, but still passionate. Natsuki wrapped her arms around her, and lost herself in the embrace. That inner voice that pissed her off so much was taunting her about how stupid she was for never allowing this kind of thing to happen before. Natsuki smirked as she kissed the other girl again, amused by the thoughts of what could have happened in that student council room if that had been the case. She deepened the kiss slightly before parting, both of them content with looking into each other's eyes. Shizuru smiled a very genuine and warm smile, still overwhelmed that her desires had been returned at all. Then, she smirked. "Ara, you still haven't found the mp3 player, have you?" "Quiet." - - - Kashima Sayo became one of Mitsubishi Heavy Industries leading business negotiators, landing contract after contract with private investors and the military. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to live comfortably, without having to worry about missing bills or going hungry to afford a place to stay. Most of her money went to charity. She only bought a few large things for herself and her lover. She looked down on Kyoto, still too afraid to spend too much time there in person. Perhaps that fear would fade in time. She was, for now, quite content with her quiet life away from the public. Kitahara Meiko remained one of the best bike mechanics in the region, bringing home a decent amount of money herself in addition to funds won by racing illegal street races in the night, done only to keep her adrenaline lust satisfied. No one seemed to mourn the deaths of Kuga Natsuki or Fujino Shizuru. Those that cared had died and been reborn a few times themselves. Natsuki was always eager to return home, knowing that Shizuru would be following shortly behind, anxious to see her. She was glad to share her life with someone, and for the first time, she willingly expressed her emotions without question, loving and caring without (much) embarrassment. She was a bit late that evening, and she hopped up the steps, smelling dinner already cooking inside. It was expected. She caught the flying beer in one hand and hung her keys on the rack on the wall. Twisting it open, she took a drink and looked down at the woman lying on the floor with her own bottle. Shizuru smiled up at her as Natsuki walked past the glass case that held a bardiche, naginata and voulge. Natsuki sat down, rested her hand against the side of Shizuru's face, cradling it gently, knowing that no one else could have ever made her as happy as she felt every time she looked into those red eyes. She was home. - - - AN: There you go. The end. Kinda shoddy, but I never know how to end things. That last scene is from chapter one of the other story, rewritten and cut off before they start talking. Obviously, as stated in the first chapter, this is a prequel. If you want to know where the story goes almost immediately after this last scene, wander on over to my profile and go find "The Kyoto Hunt." It resolves the Searrs thing and what happened to the others.
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