Blood steadily dripped on to the pavement. He marveled at its silence—so unlike water. It represented so much. Life, death, family, pain…

Most certainly, without a doubt: pain.

He staggered slightly, falling against the building beside him. Stupid, he thought weakly, pressing his palm—the one that he didn't use to draw blood—against the wall for support. Stupid, stupid, stupid… He had gone to a meeting of several Chronos leaders, expecting them to be easy prey. It wouldn't take much. There were only about 7 of them, local government leaders. He had been planning it for weeks.

Then he had arrived. Everything before that point had gone according to plan. The guards, the kitchen passageway, the back door…

Then she had appeared.

It was always difficult to tell which of the Numbers were which. Charden could never remember their names and numbers and faces and weapons. In his mind, they were all one. They all spelled, in capital letters, 'RUN'.

And he'd tried to.

Another sharp pain in his chest almost forced a whimper to escape his lips, but he held it back with great effort. Blood was slowly seeping through the large tear in his shirt. He had one hand pressed against the wound, in a vain attempt to hold in the blood. He feared using his Tao; he had already used so much of it. So much. What use was wasting his life force—and consequently dying—simply in an attempt to save his own life?

So he would bleed to death in this empty city street, just outside the border of the streetlamp's light, in the shadows of the dark. The irony of Charden Flamberg dying by blood loss was not lost on him. He only regretted that no one would share it. No one would miss him, he was sure. He had no family, the Apostles of the Stars were all but destroyed (and they had probably forgotten him anyway)…

"Kyoko," he whispered softly, without even meaning to say the name aloud. As he spoke, he felt a small trail of blood leak from the side of his mouth (damn, but that had been a good punch…). Slowly sliding down the brick wall to land on his knees, her face appeared in his mind. Bright, happy, cheering at the slightest thing…

His wavy blond hair was stringy and unkempt, and it fell over his face as he bowed his head to the pain. Oh, but it hurt. It hurt so much…

"No WAY!"

At first, he thought he had imagined the exclamation. It was just the thing he wanted to hear; therefore, it had to be his imagination. He didn't look up. He only pressed his hand harder into the wound on his chest, fighting to stay conscious.

"Charden-san! Is that you? Where's your hat?"

That almost made him chuckle. Kyoko had finally found him again, and the first thing she asks is why he doesn't have his hat.

He could barely breathe now, he could barely see. A shadow from the streetlamp cast over him, completely throwing his vision into darkness. Was it a person?

"Ky-kyoko," he managed, not knowing whether or not it was her.

It probably wasn't. It couldn't be.

With that last, lingering thought (It couldn't be…), he passed into the dark.

-x-x-

Something small and warm was sitting on his stomach. Furry, too. It was curled against his hand, warming his skin. It felt rather nice.

He opened his eyes blearily, surprised to find himself in a room filled with sunlight. It seemed to be a hotel, with two nondescript beds, a couch (which he appeared to be lying on), a television, and a wide window with white curtains.

He looked down at his stomach. There lay a very small, very cute black cat, curled into a tiny ball against his left hand—coincidentally, the hand that had a permanent scar across the palm from his own blade.

"CHARDEN-SAN!"

Kyoko appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her face—as usual—alight with glee and excitement. She made to throw her arms around him in what he predicted would be a bone-crushing hug, but then thought better of it and—with visible effort—managed to remain standing calmly before him.

"Kyoko," he said quietly, almost unwilling to believe it. "What…what…"

"Oh no no no, don't speak!" she immediately chided, holding up a finger. "You were very, very hurt and I'm sure you're very, very tired, right?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she held up that finger again. "Ah-ah-ah! Don't speak! I'll get you some tea! Black, right?"

He opened his mouth—she held up a finger. He closed it again.

"Yes, black," she said, answering her own question as she made her way to the kitchen. "I'll be right back, Charden-san!"

Then she was gone as quickly as she had come.

Charden stared after her blankly, feeling as if someone had turned his mind into a pile of shapeless…something. Something mushy. His thoughts lay scrambled and incoherent, and he found himself unable to organize them. Where was he? Why was Kyoko here?

Why did his chest hurt like hell?

The events of the previous night came to him slowly at first, then in a rush. Ah, yes. The meeting. The meeting that was supposed to be his glorious moment. Then the Numbers had stepped in…

He winced at the memory, his hand automatically reaching for the left side of his chest. Surprised, he glanced down at where his wound had been neatly bandaged. Small spots of blood had appeared on the white fabric, but other than that, they held firm.

Would that girl ever cease to surprise him?

"Here we are!" she announced happily, appearing—once more—out of nowhere, a tray in her arms. She laid it on a nearby table, pulling up a chair and perching herself in it. "Are you feeling okay, Charden-san?" she asked, her voice quizzical. He watched her pour steaming cups of dark tea from the plain white teapot for a moment, then replied dryly:

"Does this mean I can speak now?"

"Oh! Yes, yes! Please do!"

He took the teacup she offered, inhaling the sweet, tangy scent of the tea before taking a sip. The bitter undertone of the drink cleared his mind somewhat, and he was able to see her clearly for the first time.

She hadn't changed too much in the 16 months he'd been away from her. Her hair was significantly longer, but it was still black as night to contrast with her light, flawless skin. She didn't look a day older, nor a day taller.

He, on the other hand, knew he must have looked like the living dead. No wonder her eyes were clouded with concern and worry.

"I'm feeling much better, actually," he said truthfully, swirling his tea. "The pain has lessened a significant amount."

"Good," she said, her smile sincere. Charden glanced up at her, vaguely wondering at the change that had been wrought in her. He would have expected a squeal of glee, or something of the sort…but she looked very serious, and very…what was the word? Caring? She reminded him almost of a mother, hovering over a sick child, finding heartfelt happiness in every improvement to their health. It gave him a warm feeling somewhere deep in his chest; a place that hadn't felt warmth for a long, long time.

"I really want to thank you, Kyoko," he said seriously, cupping his tea in both hands. "I was…I was in deep trouble last night."

"No kidding," she replied simply, sipping her tea (which contained at least four sugar cubes). "You were bleeding something awful. I thought it were never going to stop."

Charden sunk back into his pillows, staring fixedly at his old partner. "How did you get me here?" he asked with a frown.

She flapped a hand. "I got one of the bell boys from the hotel to help me. I wrapped you in a coat so he couldn't see the blood, and told him you had gotten drunk and fainted. He brought you up in a cart."

Drunk…

"That was very ingenious of you," he said, sipping his tea. She positively glowed.

"Thank you, Charden-san!" she squealed happily, almost bouncing in her seat. "Then I just asked for a first aid kit, 'cause "I thought he may have hit his head", and I wrapped up your booboo!"

Booboo?

"You did a very nice job with it, too," he commented, barely able to keep the surprise from his voice as he looked down at the bandage. "When did you learn first aid?"

She shrugged. "I worked in a hospital for a bit."

"You did?"

"When I ran out of money."

Charden immediately frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, a bit after Train left me and Chronos said they'd leave me alone, I went back to school and such," she began, curling one leg underneath of her as she spoke. "Kyoko was a good girl for a while…then she missed the Apostles of the Stars." Her gaze, which had previously been fixed on the ceiling, focused on Charden. "She missed Charden-san."

It felt as if some sort of weight had dropped into his stomach as she looked at him, but he couldn't quite put a finger on the emotion.

"So!" she continued brightly. "Kyoko thought she would look for Charden! Then maybe Charden would let Kyoko stay with him?"

She had turned the end of the sentence into a question, something that did not escape his notice. His face turned from impassive to dangerous. "No."

Her face did a similarly extreme change: from hopeful to distraught. "No?" she repeated incredulously. "But Charden-san—"

"No," he interrupted, his voice flat. "It would be too risky. I can't allow it."

Her lower lip stuck out slightly in a pout. "But—"

"I'm working directly against Chronos, the most powerful organization in the world." He watched her eyes widen slightly. "I got in a fight with one of the Numbers…that's why I was in such bad shape. If you hadn't come along, I would have died. The Numbers would have killed me." His glare softened somewhat, as did his voice. "I won't put you in that sort of danger."

She leaned back, her gaze turned away slightly. "Oh…well, if you're against Chronos, then I can't help you anyway." He quirked an eyebrow. "See, I made a promise to the lady who was Number I. I promised I would never go against Chronos, and if I did, then she wouldn't protect me anymore." Kyoko shrugged, downing her tea in one gulp and placing the cup on the table. "I didn't know what Charden-san was doing. I just wanted to find him. My life is boring without him."

He tried to ignore the flutter in his heart caused by her last words, calling back that very important thought that was nearly lost. "But Kyoko…I'm an enemy of Chronos. Wouldn't helping me make you an enemy as well?"

"Don't be silly!" she admonished brightly, her face once more glowing with that familiar, happy light. "You're my friend! I'd do anything to help you! Surely that lady will understand that, right?"

Even as she spoke, Charden wasn't listening. Images of the Numbers bursting through the door were flashing through his mind, and desperation was clutching ever more tightly on his heart. "No," he said simply, struggling to rise. "No, I have to leave. I have to get out of here."

Kyoko pushed him firmly back down to the couch, and he fell with an 'oomph'. "No," she replied. "You're hurt. You probably can't even walk."

"I can try," he growled, struggling to rise again. And again, Kyoko placed two hands on his chest and pushed. In his weakened state, Charden had no chance. He collapsed back on to the cushions again.

"I'm not letting you leave," she said quietly.

They looked at each other for several moments, their stubbornness mirrored.

Then all the energy seemed to drain out of Charden, and he relaxed into the pillows. "Fine…" he whispered, looking away. "I'll stay."

"Are you mad at Kyoko?" she asked gently, brushing away a strand of hair that lingered on his face. The gesture touched him, chasing away some of his frustration.

"No," he said with a sigh. "Charden is not angry at Kyoko."

Damn, he was even starting to use third person.

The smile that came over her face nearly made his statement a true one. "Good," she said brightly. "Because Kyoko is happy she found Charden, and she does not want him to be mad at her."

He looked up at her for a moment, studying her. No—she hadn't changed one bit. "I'm not mad at you," he said softly. Her smile widened.

"Good," she said.

At that moment, the door to the hotel room exploded.

The cat on his stomach—who Charden had completely forgotten—squealed and buried itself between Charden's body and the couch. Kyoko also squealed, falling off of her chair to land between it and the couch. Consciously or unconsciously, her hand sought and found Charden's. He squeezed it gently as three figures emerged from the dust, to stand in the middle of the ravaged bedroom.

The one at the head was a woman who was all-too-familiar to Charden. Her hair fell in golden waves well-past her shoulders, and there was a strange symbol marked on her forehead. The other two were unfamiliar, but both bore weapons that appeared to be the black, indestructible substance that always made up the signature weapons of the Chronos Numbers.

"You," he and Kyoko said at the same time, their gazes locked on the woman. They spared quick glances of surprise for each other, then turned back.

How does Kyoko know this woman?

"Kyoko Kirisaki," the woman said coldly. "You have broken your promise."

"I haven't!" Kyoko protested. "I just—"

"You have harbored an enemy of Chronos."

There's that pout again…

"Charden-san is my friend," she said with a frown, holding his hand in both of hers. "I saw him about to die, and I helped him. I didn't know he was an enemy of Chronos."

"Of course you did. You were partnered with him when you were both Apostles of the Stars, correct?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"And you willingly brought him here, to heal him?"

"Yes! I didn't want Charden-san to die!"

One of the men behind her spoke up. "Enough of this, Sephiria. Let's kill them both."

"No."

Everyone in the room—including the wide-eyed black cat buried in the couch—stared at Charden in surprise as he stood. He was shaky and trembling from the effort, but he was on his feet. He glared at the woman in front of him; the woman who had nearly killed him.

"She did not know that I was still fighting against Chronos. When I left her before, I had told her that I was going to seek out my family in Hashuda, and that she couldn't come with me. She only found me last night because she had been trying to locate me after 16 months of separation."

"I wanted to be with Charden-san," she said quietly from the floor.

"She didn't know," he reiterated, "and she was only trying to help a friend. A friend she hadn't seen for over a year. She kept her promise to you, Number I. And she saved my life."

Still trembling from weakness and blood loss, he managed to kneel—although it was more like falling to his knees. "I ask that you spare her life, because I owe her mine."

Utter silence filled the hotel room. The two men behind Number I looked anxious, like horses chomping at the bit. Kyoko had frozen, unable to move. Charden had bowed his head, his gaze fixed on nothing but a shard of the now-destroyed door. And Number I…

"Charden Flamberg," she said at last. "I will give you the same offer I gave Kyoko. If you swear to never again become an enemy of Chronos, I will grant you your life and protection. Should you refuse, we reserve the right to execute you as an enemy of Chronos."

Kyoko whimpered softly behind him. His mind was in a struggle, a battle, trying to decide—he believed in the cause against Chronos. He believed in it with all his heart. Would he die for it? Absolutely.

But Kyoko…

"Don't do it," she whispered, although her whisper was more like one an actress would use onstage, so that the entire theater would hear her. "Please, Charden-san. Please. I'm begging you."

But, the fight…the fight against Chronos…

"Charden-san…"

He glanced back at her—and in that moment, he could see it in her eyes. The fear. The belief that this glance meant something; meant that he had chosen death.

Perhaps he could have a few surprises of his own.

"I swear," he said quietly, his gaze once more fixed on that wooden shard. A small smile appeared on Number I's pale face—or perhaps he had imagined it.

"Good. Pray that we do not have to come calling again."

With that, they left. Kyoko waved happily to Number I on her way out, and received a reserved smile in return.

Charden sighed deeply. He had given it up. He had given up his beliefs, his fight, his reason for living…

He grunted as Kyoko threw herself upon him, squealing. "You agreed! You agreed!" she cried as they both fell to the floor. The pain in his chest was sharp, but he attempted to ignore it. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards as he tugged on her arms to prevent her from choking him.

"Yes, I agreed," he said calmly as she pressed her cheek against the top of his head.

"And Kyoko is so happy! Kyoko can stay with Charden now, yes?"

Her arms were wrapped around his neck from behind, and he held her wrists in his hands. He gently rubbed her skin with his thumbs as he pondered. Why not, really? He had nothing left. There was no more danger. He could live a normal life.

What a strange thought.

"Yes," he said, tightening his grip on her wrists in the anticipation of the inevitable: Kyoko squealed happily, squeezing his neck with glee. "YAY CHARDEN-SAN!" she cried, and Charden chuckled quietly with what air he could get (considering she was very close to strangling him).

Maybe his reason to live had been lost. But he had certainly gained a new one.