Chapter 4
The Distance Between Us
by Fuuko no Miko

Fuuko no Miko's pre-chapter ranting:
Many, many thanks to the people who put up reading this material ^_^. And the lovely reviews as well, thank you, thank you thank you. My aim is to get around 100 by the time the story ends...would that be too much to dream of? Well, maybe. I dunno. In any case, I reviewed the previous chapter and supposed I was making Aki really nasty. Well, prepare yourself as she gets even *nastier*. And she aint the only one!!! Ready, get set...read ^^!!!

Lie, cheat, seduce, betray people, all for money and power. And when people can no longer be used, destroy them.'- Kurei, Rekka no Honoo manga volume 3
"What seems to be the problem Aki-chan?" Miki asked her sister as the latter made mincemeat out of the beef they were cutting to be used in the stew.

"Nothing." Aki lied through her teeth. Although Miki knew that there was a problem, she didn't press on. She knew the usually patient Aki had a nasty temper when its ugly head turns about.

"Mikagami again." Neon spoke up. She marched into the kitchen, hands on her hips, a smirk on her lips. "How many times did I tell you to give up on Ice Cube?" she scolded the younger girl. "He's got so little warmth in that heart of his, he couldn't light a match with it."

Miki supressed a giggle when Neon threw her a quieting look. Aki didn't reply and displaced her anger now on the onions she was chopping, turning them into pieces so small they could barely be recognized.

"What does that ugly girl have that I don't?" she wailed angrily, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"Haven't we been through this before?" the Uruha flute-player said in an exasperated tone. She took a stool opposite Aki and put her hand on the other girl's arm. "The only reason he's interested in that girl is because Mori-sama wants her. And Meguri-san tells me that Yanagi girl looks a lot like his dead sister...other than that..."

"It's not her..." Aki interrupted. The tears fell from her eyes now. She wiped them with the back of her hand. "It's...it's...it's that stupid-looking tomboy with the messy hair from Hokage!" she sniffled.

Neon and Miki's jaws dropped. Their eyes wide with disbelief.

Miki was the first to react. She approached Aki, feeling her forehead and neck. "You don't feel warm." she said. "You sure you're not sick, Aki-chan?"

The eldest of the three rolled her eyes heavenward, "Get serious, Aki!" she exclaimed. "What in Kami-sama's name made you think that? That girl who near got stripped in the battle with Team Kuu? The only thing that tells you she's female are those huge mammaries of hers! Even her niisan looks more feminine than she does."

Miki could not help it and burst into laughter. She managed her next sentence with difficulty. "How could that be possible? I mean...ha ha ha ha...Aki-chan! That's the silliest thing..."

"But I saw them...him...," Aki insisted. "In one of the rooms..."

The blue-haired Uruha had followed Tokiya and his unwelcome guest to one of the numerous guestrooms in the corridor that led from the trapdoor. He had closed the door behind him and had locked it, thus she had contented herself on watching through the keyhole. Not that it gave much because Tokiya had his back to her.

"Drat." she said. "What's he doing to her?"

Tokiya's commonly pokerfaced features were now laced with worry. Although he had made sure she was alive by finding her pulse earlier, he was anxious about her status. How long had she been submerged in all that water? And it was damn cold too. He had goosebumps by the time he had emerged from those depths. She had already been at the bottom by the time he got to her.

Thankfully the guestroom at this area of the castle was fully furnished. He had spread a towel on the bed before laying the unconscious girl on it. He had gotten another one to dry her off, patting the towel gently on her body. While it would've been more prudent to take her wet clothes off, Tokiya didn't consider that option and satisfied himself with wiping her dry.

She'd already been through the trauma of nearly getting undressed in front of a male-dominated audience yesterday. She didn't any more of that kind of embarassment now.

"Kami-sama, I hope you're alright." he spoke softly. He pulled a chair near the bed and sat beside her. He had turned on the heater and had covered her with a thick, soft blanket. "I hope I had not been too late."

He sat there watching her quiet, even breathing. He was intrigued by the contrast of her appearance on different states. Awake she was loud and vibrant. A happy-go-lucky tomboy with a hide as thick as leather and enough energy to outlast even the Energizer bunny. But now in repose, she didn't look so tough or as mean. In fact, she looked rather vulnerable. Fragile. Feminine. Whether it was the circumstance that made it so, he truly couldn't tell. One thing he was sure of though, she looked now as if she needed to be protected.

Though he most certainly doubted she would concede to that. He may have not known her long, but what she had demonstrated in her battle with that despicable member of the Kuu was enough. Enough to show him she was the kind of person who deemed herself independent. That she didn't ask for or want help.

Even if she needed it.

He succumbed to the temptation of wanting to touch her. He brushed several strands of hair that fell on her face, pushing it aside. He held his breath when she moved, turning towards his direction. He was relieved when she didn't rouse but in moving so, she had inadvertedly trapped his hand in between her cheek and the mattress.

He blushed.

"My prince..."

This time he turned beet red.

Fuuko was venturing in the alternative reality known as the dreamstate. In her head she had turned into a mermaid, swimming with the fish in the sea.

"The mermaid princess awaits for the handsome prince to come and save her..." she mumbled.

He couldn't help smiling as he understood her dazed rambling. He bent down and closed the distance between their faces. He was so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. His lips nearly touched her ear as he spoke to her.

"Your prince is here. He has just saved you from the clutches of death." he said, in a voice just above a whisper.

Fuuko opened her eyes. Slowly.

My prince...is he calling me? she thought. When her eyelids lifted, she faintly registered a familiar face before her. His blue eyes filled with warmth and relief...his beautiful face framed with those soft silver locks...It's not my prince, she thought sleepily, it's my guardian angel. From the heavens...and his name is Tokiya. My beautiful angel Tokiya.

"What the hell?" Aki tried in vain to see what was transpiring. Tokiya was bending down...was he kissing her? Or was she kissing him? He better not be! He can't be! How dare that ugly tomboy seduce him! How dare she! In a sudden surge of emotion, Aki stepped back and bumped the huge vase that stood near the door, knocking it down and smashing it into a hundred pieces.


Tokiya quickly stood up and opened the door.

Fuuko snapped wide awake.

Aki made a run for it.

"Oh my head..." Fuuko groaned when she suddenly sat upright, still feeling the residual effects of her ordeal. It took a while for her to comprehend where she was and what had happened to her. When she realized that somebody had rescued her and had brought her here, she rushed to see who it had been, getting up and peering through the corridor to look for him.

The corridor was empty.

Shards of an expensive vase lay scattered on the floor.

Her heart deflated when she didn't see who she had suspected had rescued her. Her head had still been spinning when she first opened her eyes and though she recognized the face that looked down upon her, she wasn't sure if she had still been dreaming.

What a wonderful dream it was though.

If only it would come true...

Something that glimmered on the chair beside the bed caught her eye. She walked towards it and picked it up. Holding it up to see it, she recognized it as a pendant. A broken one though. Made of sterling silver and pierced in half. Apparently it was an old one too as there were dents and scratches on it. It was wet and Fuuko guessed that whoever he was that rescued her, owned the piece of broken jewelry.

She suddenly remembered that old American movie her mother used to watch entitled "Field of Dreams." Although she never fully understood it, there was one phrase spoken by the male lead, Kevin Costner that stuck to her head since she was little.

"If you build it, they will come."

Or in this case, she thought, "If you wear it, he will come." He, in regards to her rescuer. She had an inkling this piece of jewelry, damaged as though it was, was owned by no less than that who saved her life. If it was any value to him, and she believed it was, he would come back for it when he noted it to be missing.

And she'd let him know in no small terms that she had it.

Of course there's always the possibility that the pendant was of no significance. That it was just a piece of junk she found lying there.

She wanted to take her chances, however.

And if she was right, she just might get to see her hero. Her prince. He who "rescued her from the clutches of death." She was on the verge of awakening when he had declared so. It was a line that ticked her pink.

Fuuko smiled at the scheme she had just hatched. She was going to display the silver trinket...maybe put it on a chain and wear it during one of her fights....

Her fights.

The fuujin-wielder turned pale at the sudden realization.

"Recca is going to kill me."

She never ran that fast in her entire life.

She was seated in her favorite spot by the window, looking out the hills and forests that surrounded the area where the Tournament of Death was being held. For something so inhuman, the sanctuary that surrounded it was a paradise. The trees were just growing out new leaves this season and the flowers were in bloom. The days were warm but not too hot and a cool evening breeze swept through the nights. During the day the sun shone surrounded by a cloudless azure sky while at night the moon would glow majestically accompanied by the glitter of the stars.

Subconsciously, Fuuko touched the pendant that hung on a fine chain around her neck. The pendant. That which would have linked her to her rescuer should he come for it. But it's been two nights and he had not shown any signs of retrieving his treasure. She rubbed the silver jewel, as though summoning a genie who'd make her wishes come true.

She got a piece of Recca's mind that day she returned for her supposed bout with Shiju of Uruha Maboroshi. But he'd forgiven her afterwards when she related what had happened to have caused her delay. Her oniisan hovered over her like a mother hen, asking her if she was alright almost up to the point of annoyance. She understood him though, and appreciated his concern.

Yesterday they had their hands full with Uruha Oto. One particular oddity was the fact that one of the members of Neon's troop wanted a piece of Fuuko. The girl with the short, blue hair they called Aki. Fuuko recognized her but couldn't pinpoint exactly where she had seen her. She would've stepped up and took on Aki but the matches had been predetermined and Recca, as a sort of punishment wouldn't allow her to fight. She had sought support from her oniisan but found none. He had taken up Recca's contention but on different grounds. He didn't want her to go sparring immediately after her life-threatening ordeal. The two men were deaf to her pleas.

Aki looked incensed that she couldn't get her hands on Fuuko. Her eyes were blazing with rage. All the more when she lost to Domon. She had vehemently refused to give up her madougu, only doing so when Neon told her to, as Recca spared the latter's life.

What's her problem? Fuuko wondered. She was sure she'd never crossed that girl in any point of her stay in the Urabutosatsoujin, unless ofcourse she beat up any of Aki's boyfriends. But the only one she had remembered clobbering was Fujimaru. Aki had to have better taste than that! She never even got to battle Shiju and their supposed opponents for the afternoon had forfeited.

She fell asleep by the windowsill on that thought, her hand still holding the broken jewelry.

The window opened quietly, and inside slipped a figure. Carefully he moved, so as not to wake up the sleeping girl. Thankfully, she had the pendant on the palm of her slightly opened hand. It would've proved more difficult if she still had it on the chain around her neck. He slowly reached in to slide the pendant away when her hand suddenly closed around his and her other hand grabbed his wrist.


The moon was bright, the stars were out, the night was serene. By all measures it was a romantic evening. The atmosphere set up just the right mood for a night of romance.

Then how come she was feeling anything but romantic?

Her palms were sweaty, her heart palpitated like an angry tribal drum and her legs felt like jell-o.

Her companion on the other hand, seemed as distant and as frozen as the iceberg that crushed the Titanic.

She had rehearsed what she was going to say two days ago had he gone to retrieve his trinket. Now everything she had mentally practiced had seemingly flown out the window they went through. Everything seemed to have stopped short of her voicebox.

To say she felt utterly stupid was an understatement.

Kami-sama, he must think her pathetically dull and boring!

Little did she know that the man who walked beside her had similar thoughts.

This is your bright idea, Tokiya Mikagami, he spoke to himself. Drag her out of bed and ask her to take a walk with you under the clear, beautiful moon without so much as allowing her to dress properly. And you couldn't think of a word to say!

Comment about the weather? Cliche! Or mention how beautiful the night is? That sounded excessively corny. Maybe tell her how pretty she looked in those oversized blue flannel pajamas with the matching slippers? She'd never believe him. Mention about the Urabutosatsoujin? And have her screaming about Fujimaru.

Kuso! He felt like a neophyte. During his stint in the Uruha he had smooth-talked more women than his fingers and toes combined. And here he was out of anything to say to a girl little different than those females he'd encountered in the past.

Would it be perhaps because he felt differently about her than all the others?

"Thank you."


Fuuko broke the ice by remembering how she never got around to thanking him for what he'd done. It opened a door for both of them.

"I said thank you." she said in a more certain tone, trying not to sound silly. Kami-sama! She wished he didn't look at her like that. Her legs were already unsteady as it is. Those eyes had a particular look in them that made her want to melt like ice cream in the middle of the Sahara. "I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life. Back there, you know, at the water dungeon."

When he stopped and smiled at her, she felt her knees go weak. Drat the man! Why did he have to look as though he just stepped out of a men's magazine? Looking all elegant in that white designer shirt and those snug-fitting jeans. Dressed in a hand-me-down fom her niisan with worn-out slippers to boot, she felt unworthy to stand next to him.

"Think nothing of it." he said. "I just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

"Talk about perfect timing. So how often do you go around saving people's lives?" she found herself joking.

The irony of her statement almost made him laugh. But he kept himself in check. "It's not a common occurence." he said truthfully. "Anyone in my place would have done the same."

"That I doubt." she commented on a more serious note. "I mean, if it had been any one of Kurei's Jyushinshuu, I'm sure the would've just let me drown there. Heck, they might even push me back in case I tried to resurface."

It was good thing she was looking away from him. She might've noticed that momentary flicker in his eyes.

They continued walking, this time in silence, only stopping when they reached a small clearing with a stream flowing through. They took a seat beside each other on the huge rocks by the bank. They sat there, listening to the flow of the rushing waters before them.

Tokiya opened his palm to reveal the silver trinket he had attempted to obtain from Fuuko earlier. She had given it back to him a while ago after confirming it was his. It glittered like a gem under the pale light of the overhanging moon.

"My turn to thank you." he spoke up first. "For returning this to me. I thought I had lost it in the water dungeon."

"And my turn to say think nothing of it." she smiled. "Though honestly I didn't think it was worth much. What I mean is...well, it is broken. I didn't think it was really significant."

Tokiya closed his palm tightly. "It's very important to me." he stated with a distant look in his eyes. "It is my link."

"Link to...?"

His eyes narrowed as he turned to look at Fuuko. Her blue-violet eyes wide with querry. In his head he fought a battle as to whether or not to reveal to her the truth behind the broken trinket.

She withdrew her glance. "Well, if you don't feel comfortable talking about it, then it's okay. I don't want to be pushy." she said.

"My sister's murderer."

His words caused Fuuko's eyes to grow wider. She stifled a gasp. Tokiya looked away.

It was a while before she found her tongue.


The knuckles on his right hand turned white as they clutched the item tightly. Slowly, a tide of anger began to surface through Tokiya's well controlled-features.

"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, it's alright. Really." Fuuko assured. She placed a hand on his arm as though pacifying him.

Blue eyes met purple ones. Fuuko could almost feel the fury in them which he was trying hard to supress. His mouth had drawn into a thin line and his features took on a chilling appearance.

When he opened his mouth, a voice came out that even he hardly recognized. It was one filled with an anger he attempted to put a hold on all these years. In those tones he had begun relating the event that turned his life about 180 degrees. Fuuko listened quietly, taking in every detail. When he had been young, some men had infiltrated their little apartment and had attempted to steal the family heirloom. His neesan had tried protecting it and him, getting herself killed in the process. Thankfully the men had well let him alone and had gone. But not before taking the one thing that he had considered far more important than any heirloom, the life of his beloved sister.

"I was barely ten." he related. "What could I do?" Tokiya, then, out of rage and confusion, had chased the escaping men. He had jumped at one of them, ripping off a necklace one of them had wore. The man had struggled to get his jewelry back and in the melee had broken a part of it. The men had gotten away, however, and he was left with the broken trinket he now held in his hand. He had carried it with him ever since, looking for the other piece that would point to him they who had taken his neesan's life. It was a long shot, but it was all he had. All these years, it was the one thing he had held on to. The one thing that kept him going. The fuel that kept him burning.

The thirst for revenge.

Revenge for his beloved neesan.

A moment of silence followed Tokiya's story. Interrupted only by the sound of the flowing stream and the crickets that sung through the night. Tokiya lowered his head and closed his eyes. He had told no one, other than Kurei-san and Meguri-sensei of the tragedy that befell him and that powered his desire to become what he was. It still pained him to talk about it, and it put a chip on the icy surface that he so painstakingly shielded himself with. He had learned long ago that not talking about it made it hurt less.

Or so he thought.

He didn't know why he had the urge to tell Fuuko what he did. Perhaps to make an honest man out of himself? He had no idea why he said what he said. It just came out spontaneously. Beyond his control. He wouldn't blame her if she turned away and never talk to him again.

When Tokiya opened his eyes, his gaze was met by one filled with symapthy...and more importantly, a sense of understanding.

"Is that why you're here? At the Ura Buto Satsoujin?" she inquired. "To look for your sister's killer?"

He managed to nod.

She put her hand over his and squeezed. "I may not be able to fully understand how you feel. Though I did lose my niisan too...when our parents divorced when we were small. I loved him very much and back then when we were taken apart, I felt so devastated. I was angry and confused and I hated the world for allowing me to part from the only sibling and friend I've ever had. Ofcourse my loss wasn't permanent like...yours. But I guess if I had hurt so much then, then all the more you are hurting now."

Once again he dared look into her eyes, wondering how she was taking in his tragic past. He was nothing in them that condemned him. Just a look that told him, she somehow understood.

Ofcourse he hadn't told her the full story yet. He was curious how she would react if...

She discovered he was of the Uruha. The Uruha Jyushinshuu. And not just another assassin. He was Kurei's executioner. The right-hand man. Second in command and Kurei's confidante.

Fuuko was the first to turn away, focusing on the stream before them. "So it was you I had ran into on the first day?"

"Yes." he confirmed.

"I didn't know you had long hair." her mood seemed to lighten up a bit, taking a turn away from the graveness of their earlier subject of conversation. "At the park it sure looked rather short."

"I had it under my baseball cap." he said, matching her change of mood. "It makes me more...obscure."

A corner of his mouth upturned and Fuuko smiled back. Having his hair down, with its silky, silvery lengths was sure to draw attention, which at that time in the park, he definitely had no need of. "You wear colored contacts too?" she asked.

He affirmed. "I like variety."

"But your eye color is great the way it is." she blurted out before she could control herself. She felt herself blushing afterwards. "I mean...I like them the way they are...I mean...they're so nice and blue...like chips of ice."

She turned redder when she realized the implication of her statement. "What I mean is...uh, you know..." Fuuko shut her trap when he suddenly reached out to her her and touched her cheek, his thumb resting on her cheekbone.

"I like the color of your eyes too." he said. "They're the color of African violets."

"R-really?" suddenly she found her throat constricting, due to what, she couldn't figure. "I've never uhm...seen African violets." What a stupid thing to say! Fuuko thought after speaking. It wasn't as though she had anything better to. Her mind seems to be out of sync for the past hour or so.

"They're very pretty flowers." he explained. "Mostly used as an indoor decoration. Majority of them take on this bluish-violet color. Though some may be lavender, red...they're not classified as true violets though. They're a wild breed, initially found growing on African cliffsides...they used to be wild flowers."

Just like you...a wild flower in an open field....and how I long to pick you from it...his inner mind spoke.

Fuuko swallowed. If her heart was erratic a while ago, now it was going berserk. The spot where his thumb caressed her face was growing warm. It sent little jolts of excitement down her spine. Her stomach was queasy. She wanted to say something...anything...but no words found themselves to her throat.

Kami-sama, but he wanted to...Tokiya thought. He wanted to...his gaze moved to her lips that were slightly parted, as though wishing to say something. The pinkish tinge was natural, no smudge of that icky red goo a lot of women often used to paint their mouths with. They looked soft, inviting...and inside his head he wondered if anyone had attempted to touch them with their own.

Something told him no one had dared. Not because they didn't want to, rather that she wouldn't let anyone to.

It excited him to think he may be the first one.

Her first...kiss.

Goosebumps raised on Fuuko's skin as she realized what he wanted to do. The thumb that had rested on her cheekbone had now become a hand that cupped her face. He began closing the distance between their faces. And while her saner self cried out to her that she was being ridiculous and irrational, the rest of her didn't take heed. She wanted it. Wanted his lips to claim hers. Wanted him to take her in his arms and make her feel adored, and pretty and...


She closed her eyes.

The minute their lips came in contact, a loud splash in the stream before them caused them to jerk apart as magnets would repel.

Tokiya reluctantly stood up and approached the stream. He frowned as he saw a relatively large chunk of rock landed in the middle of the water. It was the size of a human fist. It couldn't have gotten there accidentally.

Someone was watching.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a movement in the shadows. No three guesses on who it could possibly be.

What he didn't see was a second figure lurking in the dark. Quietly observing.

Fuuko took the spot beside him as he stood by the stream, eyeing the rock. "Maybe we should go back now." she suggested. "It's probably not safe."

He nodded, disappointed at having been interrupted. "Perhaps. It is rather late. You should be getting your rest." he took her by the arm. "You wouldn't mind me walking you back, would you?"

She shook her head.

The walk back was less tense than when they started out. Conversation was light. They talked about life outside the Ura Butou Satsoujin, particularly because Fuuko didn't want them straying into anything even close to the death of Tokiya's sister. She had seen the hurt in his eyes when they had talked about it earlier. She didn't want him to relive the pain a second time that night. She planned on giving him her thoughts about it later. Later when she got around to thinking clearer and have her feet go down from cloud nine.

"I'd like to see you again, Fuuko-san...if you don't mind ofcourse." Tokiya said before bidding her good night.

"No, I don't mind." she answered.

"Until then," he said before surprising her with a quick, light kiss on the forehead before she could protest. "Good night."

"Good night." was all that she could muster. She watched as he disappeared amongst the shadows of the trees. Certain he was gone, she turned about to return to their room.

She touched the area of her forehead where his soft lips made contact and blushed to the roots of her hair.

Her heart was singing a merry tune when she got back to her bed. She almost didn't see the tall figure standing against the wall, looking at her with a question painted on his face. She near jumped when he cleared his throat to indicate his presence.



A smile lit his features, seen via the moonlight filtering through the window.

"For a while there I thought you were going to elope without telling me." he joked as he approached the bed quietly.

"You're not supposed to let anyone know you're going to elope." she returned the jest as she moved to make room for him on the bed.

Raiha took the place beside her and drew her into his arms. Fuuko leaned against him, snuggling in the comfort of his embrace. Just like the old days.

Fuuko could recall it as though it was yesterday. She was four. Raiha was seven. He'd tell her all those scary stories he'd pick up from camp and frighten her to tears. Then she would sought refuge in his arms and he'd tell her that he would save her. Protect her from the Boogeyman, the Sandman and any other ghoul that would dare scare her off her shoes. He was her defender.

When the bitter divorce and custody battle ended, she was left to fend on her own. Alone. No oniisan to rescue her from the monsters in all those childhood tales. She would find herself on her lonesome in that huge bedroom. No one to run to should the Boogeyman come for her. Her niisan was gone. For good. It was then that she had learned to defend herself, because no one else will. She was left to do her own battles as there was no longer someone she could rely on. Just herself.

She had carried that until now.

Fuuko Kirisawa can hold her own. Against anyone. Against anything.

"Is there anything my imouto-san wishes to tell me?" Raiha began, interrupting her thoughts. "About a particular...bishounen I just might know?" he spoke in a teasing tone.

"What are you talking about onii-san?" she tried to evade the question, but she guessed he knew anyway.

"The one with the long, silvery hair who looks like a girl."

"He does *not* look like a girl!" Fuuko protested.

"Aha! I knew it!" he chuckled.


"Hush, little sister. You don't want to wake up half the building now would you?" he motioned to silence.  "Now why don't you tell your big brother what this is all about..."

Fuuko was sound asleep when Raiha tiptoed out of her bedroom and he'd gone to his own. Once inside, he took a seat in front of the vanity desk. His eyes wandered towards a small photograph he had lodged in between the mirror's frame. He took it and examined it. It was an old picture. The Kirisawa family. Taken twelve years ago just a few months before their parent's divorce. Raiha, at the the age of seven was hugging his younger sister, then four. He remembered it then...back when the days were much happier and life was simpler. He sighed. If only he could bring back the time...if only kaa-san and oto-san didn't quarrel too much...if they didn't part ways...if oto-san had a better job...if there had been no debts...it would've never come to this.

His gaze was focused on the image of his only sister. The smile on her face was genuine, her eyes filled with absolute hapiness. Almost like the expression he had seen when he followed her as she took a walk with the silver-haired boy from the park. He was neither blind nor dumb. His little sister was falling, if she hasn't already, for the bishounen who had near kissed her. She was obviously smitten, of that he was sure. He wouldn't have minded, if the truth be known, that she was beginning to see men in a different light. Only, he wished it didn't have to be this one.

A few weeks ago when they first ran into Tokiya, he didn't have any misgivings about him. Heck, he even made sure that Fuuko & Tokiya could have some uninterrupted moments together. He wanted his sister to experience something different from her usual fare of physically knocking men off their feet.  He wanted her to have a taste of those things ordinary girls had. But now, after he had followed them to make sure nothing objectionable would happen, he discovered a truth that would destroy something beautiful that he helped create.

He loved his imouto-san very much, even more now when they had gotten reacquainted after being apart for so long. He would do anything and everything in his power not to hurt her.

Raiha stood up from his position and began unbuttoning his shirt. He bit his lip as his upper torso was revealed through the mirror that looked back at him. He threw the garment aside. The light from outside shone on the glittering piece of jewelry on his chest. It hung from a silver chain around his neck.

A broken silver pendant.

From one of the bedrooms of the Uruha mansion, a sobbing can be heard. It wasn't that loud, but it was enough to draw the red-haired Uruha flute player from her bed. Particularly because she recognized the voice.

"Onee-chan." the blue-haired girl mumbled in between sobs. She allowed the older woman to put her arms around her shoulders and comfort her.

"Hush, hush." Neon placated her younger sibling as she stroked her hair. No words were necessary. She had more than an inkling of what may have transpired.

In short sentences, Aki told Neon what she had witnessed by the stream, causing her such heartache. The latter's eyes initially widened but they later on took a more serious appearance as they narrowed into mere slits. She gave her sister a hug. By nature Neon wasn't the vengeful type. She may be labelled cruel and sadistic, but rarely was she vindictive. She did have her threshold however, namely having the people she loved physically or emotionally hurt. It was a sin she deemed unforgivable.

It brought out a mean streak few people had ever witnessed.

A very mean streak.

"We'll get that weasel, imouto-san." Neon whispered. "I promise you. We'll get her."

Fuuko Kirisawa would forever regret the day she met Tokiya Mikagami.

She was going to make sure of it.

Fuuko no Miko's rant for the chapter:

Now even Neon gets to be an evil witch ^^;;;. Make no mistake, people. I *do* love Neon. But as reasonably justified above, she will become mean should anyone she feels much affection for, get hurt *coughcoughKureisamacoughcough*. We should be reminded ofcourse, that they are *URUHA* and contrary to all those comedy fics all of us are guilty of writing, they're not actually sweet people. Otherwise they wouldn't be Uruha in the first place. That's why I put that quote of Kurei-san in the opening paragraph. To remind us that the Uruha people are much capable of doing despicable stuff. But ofcourse they're not purely evil (maybe with the exception of Mokouren, Mikoto, Mori Kouran...oooh three Ms....but I'm saving that for another fic ^_~). They do things for different reasons. You may also note that Fuuko & Tokiya may go a bit (okay, major) out of character when they meet each other. Fuuko turns a bit girlish while the stone-faced Tokiya goes into softie mode. One word to reason it out: AFFECTION. Really now, people who (well, not all, but majority) are *inluv* tend to act strangely around people they are attracted to (speaking from first hand experience???). As a saying goes "Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise."

Why am I even explaining all of this?

Because I love you guys so!!! Thanks for reading and well...I suppose this would be done by two more chapters. Thanks again and I hope to hear from ya!!!