Fanfic 4 Club

I was given a challenge. Write a one-shot, one to ten pages long, to submit in our club fanfiction contest. Any fandom, any crossovers, OCs, AUs, and competent language required. Keep it PG-13, and they let us go.

But you see, I'm no one-shot writer. Even my un-uploaded story is chaptered. As for any original stories, definitely no. But then I had an idea. This idea evolved into a person. This person evolved into a character. And this character became this story.

Read on, friends, and heed the power of the writer's challenge.

Campo Do Sangue

Disclaimer: If I owned Tsubasa, Fai would take his shirt off more, I would glomp tackle Kuro-pwn, and my other three co-workers would be suspiciously like the club members.

Caution: This story contains some heavy accents (what'd you think I was going to say?). If you are tired, have a headache, or any other condition that would cause annoyance at what Microsoft Word would paint red, pop some aspirin and suck it up! I spent too many hours working on this for you to under-appreciate a dynamic accent! –sticks tongue out- Oh, and there is also some word play. Just warning you.

The first thing they noticed was the sky.

"Hyuu! Sky so colorful!" Fai smiled up at the purple, pink, orange, and red streaked heavens.

"It's just dusk, nothing to get worked up over," Kurogane said indifferently and looked at Mokona, "Where are we anyway, meat bun?"

The sky may be something from a rainbow's dream, but the land wasn't. The ground stood, bare and desolate, life all but extinguished, saving alone the gnarled but long-dead tree where they had landed. The earth sloped down, ending in a town as decrepit and dry as its surroundings at the base. Shadows contorted and darkened the dry clay city, yet no sun shone from the sky.

"It's so scary…" Sakura backed up closer to Syaoran. The wind howled from the sepia-toned town down the hill.

"I'm sure it's not that bad, Sakura-hime," but he didn't sound so sure either.

Mokona looked right and left confusedly, "Mokona doesn't sense any feathers, just some powerful undercurrent."

"World magic," Fai said, "Comes from the world itself."

Mokona shivered, "Mokona isn't so sure. It doesn't seem very benevolent."

"Nothing seems benevolent here," Syaoran looked around.

Abandoned buildings and run-down frames littered the landscape below with dirty clay browns and shadowy blacks, contrasting sharply with the painted-canvas sky. Yet, it had the feeling of standing in a crowded city street.

"A world isn't always benevolent," Fai said cryptically.

"But if there's no feather, then-" Syaoran began, but was interrupted.

"Mekkyo! Oh no, it's gone," Mokona said sadly, "Mokona sensed a feather, but it disappeared."

"If there's a feather here, there must be something else living here," Sakura reasoned, but adding quickly, "People, for instance."

"Well, let's find them!" Fai smiled, blatantly ignoring the possible implications of what she had said.

As they walked in the direction of the brown city, giggles from the shadows erupted in their stead.

"Idiots-"

"Fools-"

"Did you see their clothes?"

"Travelers-"

"Naïve-"

"More than that-"

"Morons-"

"Different land-"

"Different world-"

"Fools-"

"Ignorant-"

"You know what this means?"

"Morons-"

"Perfect-"

"Idiots-"

"Unwary-"

"Unsuspecting-"

"Prey-"

"Fresh pickings." There was a collective snicker and the shadows parted in different directions.

"Achoo!"

"Sneeze somewhere else," Kurogane said edgily.

"Aw! Is Kuro-kii scared?!"

"Quiet you," he growled at Fai.

"Kurogane-san is right, Fai-san," Syaoran whispered, "It's as though we're being watched."

"Mokona's scared!" Mokona snuggled closer into Sakura's arms.

"You too, meat bun."

They continued to walk in uneasy silence through the seemly deserted town. Though it seemed the city had been rich at one time, only the sounds of the wind blowing erratically through the tumbling walls echoed down the stone streets now.

"Mekkyo!" Mokona suddenly opened her eyes.

"Ah, crap-!" an unfamiliar voice cursed and recoiled, but Kurogane snatched the would-be pickpocket's wrist before he could escape. Two eyes glared from a hole in the otherwise completely concealing black mask.

"Hyuu! Pickpocket, eh?" Fai put his hands on his hips.

"Mokona felt it!" she said urgently, "That thief has Sakura-chan's feather!"

Syaoran tensed and Fai smiled interestedly.

"Tch!" there was an evident sneer in the pickpocket's voice as he twisted his body to bring his feet down on Kurogane's arm, forcing him to release his grip. The thief nimbly escaped, pausing for a split second on the nearest rooftop to turn and hold up his right forefinger and thumb. A gust of wind blew dirt and sand from the barren ground into the four's eyes.

By the time the dust had cleared the thief was gone.

As Syaoran made sure nothing had gotten in Sakura's eyes, Fai squinted at where the thief had run off, "Nous semblons avoir le problème."

"Él podría estar dondequiera," Kurogane said at the same time, rubbing where the thief had twisted his arm.

"Eh?!" Both said in unison.

"Oh no!" Sakura cried suddenly, "She's gone!"

"Who is?" Syaoran asked immediately.

"Mokona!" Fai, Sakura, and Kurogane exclaimed.

"Ce n'est pas bon." Fai's tone was enough to convey his meaning.

"Sí."

"Yes."

--Haha, Kuro's speaking Spanish!--

"Ya really are kinda a meat-bun, ain't cha?"

The thief lifted Mokona by a foot with two fingers. She protested silently, mouth moving, but words not forming, as she twisted and wretched about to no avail.

"I'll make ya a deal, Biscuit," the young man grinned, setting her down, and produced a long, elegant feather. This sent Mokona into silent angry shouts, only making him grin wider and held up his other hand, in which high-pitched squeaks were softly emitting from a glowing little sphere.

"I might just whisk ya back your voice if ya tell me what kinda bird this feather coulda possibly dropped offa ta make the sky go from blood red ta that," he nodded to the perpetual sunset-soaked sky, then added with a wry look, "at noon, no less."

Mokona gave a snarl, but slowly nodded after a pause and a smirk from the thief.

"Good," he said pleasantly, and began to move the hand bearing her voice then retracted it, "and none of that shouting neither. Can't have ya tellin' everyone where we are."

The pickpocket flicked the sphere with his other hand at her, after setting down the feather. It was absorbed into Mokona, who instantly pounced on the feather, drawing in breath for a seismic bellow. The thief made a snatching movement and Mokona let out a soundless roar as she was stopped short suddenly only a few feet from him, as though restrained by a rope around her middle.

The thief laughed, "Too bad, Biscuit. But 'scapin' won't be in ya future. I'ma wind element, a master at that. No other guild in Campo Do Sangue has 'em, and with this," he plucked the feather from Mokona, and twirled it between his fingers, "I'm the best."

He moved his hand in what seemed to be a flourish, and the feather was gone.

"It'sa pity, really. I was hopin' ya wouldn't make me use my magic, but I guess I over'stimated ya. 'Til I can trust ya, ya voice ain't comin' back ta ya."

Mokona glared, and muttered something silently.

"Ya know," the thief reclined back comfortably against the chimney of the roof, "usually I can read lips, but ya not 'xactly human, are ya? No use cursin' me; I can't tell."

A light sound wafted in the breeze and a wolfish grin spread across his face and he shot to his feet suddenly.

"C'mon, Biscuit," he said, wild rust-colored hair tousling in the breeze, then threw a smirk over his shoulder, "Ya coming whether ya wanna or not, 'member?"

Mokona glared at his back, then followed reluctantly.

Syaoran soon learned how dire their situation truly was.

"Droit!" Fai gestured enthusiastically to the right.

"Sur!" Kurogane angrily pointed forward.

"We're lost," Sakura sighed dispassionately, head in her hands as she sat on a large rock.

"Yes…" Syaoran slowly rose and opened his mouth.

"Droit!"

"Sur!"

"Droit-!"

"HEY!"

Both whipped around to Syaoran.

"Los ladrones se juntan en corazones de ciudades, que es del sur," Kurogane explained logically.

"La magie de vent utilisée par voleur. Hyuu!" Fai false-whistled to demonstrate, "Le vent soufflant de la droite!"

Syaoran shook his head, having no clue what they were saying. They could be talking of anything, but they just kept pointing furiously in their own directions.

"¡Muy bien! ¡Usted puede ir esa manera! ¡Voy al sur!" Kurogane shouted. He stomped southward.

"Ok! Je vais à la droite!" Fai happily skipped right.

"Wait! Kurogane-san! Fai-san! Oh no!" Syaoran groaned. Sakura stood and looked uncertainly at Fai's, then Kurogane's, retreating backs.

"Should we go after them?" she asked.

"No," Syaoran said after a moment, "No. They're too far away. We won't catch up. Let's just go to the left and hope we eventually find Mokona-chan."

Together, they walked through a narrow street. The tall buildings loomed over them and Syaoran became aware of the lack of bird calls in the air or any other natural sounds heard in such a place. It was dead silent.

"I wonder why it's so quiet," Sakura said uneasily, breaking the tension.

"I don't know," Syaoran replied and looked hesitatingly around the corner.

"I don't like this place," she said quietly not long after, "I feel like there's a murderer at every turn."

"The Dimensional Witch said something about this," he said, "About encountering worlds filled with crime or places locked in constant war. This must be what she meant."

"Filled with crime…?" Sakura whispered anxiously.

They went down the path only to find it blocked by another building instead of connecting to another street as they originally thought.

"Oh," she said, "I guess we have to turn back-"

"I wouldn't try that, travelers."

Syaoran stood protectively in front of Sakura as ten black-attired people diffused from the shadows to corner them.

"Can't have you escaping, can we now?" the smirking one in front said. Syaoran's eyes narrowed.

Elsewhere, Kurogane was muttering about finding 'esa irritante blanca traductora', briskly turning corners to find some sort of trace of the thief who had stolen her. He climbed over a wall to land in a small dead end stretch, dusting himself off.

"That annoying white translator, making me goes through this to find her…"

"What an interestin' get-up, wouldn't you say?" snickered a voice from beside Kurogane.

He looked up to see several knife bearing thugs standing offensively in a circle. He grinned, unsheathing his sword. It seems thieves really did congregate at the center of towns.

"What of it? Got a problem with travelers?"

"No problem," a calm feminine voice on the right side of the circle assured, "just a slight misunderstanding when weapons are displayed. Is it not a sign of aggression where you are from?"

"It's a sign of aggression everywhere," Kurogane said, standing at the ready. They had come at a good time. He needed to work out his frustration at the thief stealing his only mode of communication.

"Very well," and the thugs advanced on the still-grinning Kurogane.

"Woooah!" A strong gust from the west caused Fai to lose his balance. The wind had made him step on an unstable section of the second floor in the broken-down house, the floor crumbling under his foot.

He landed with a thud in the middle of a debris-lined section of road, presumably where a building had fallen and collapsed inward over time.

"You shouldn't make such a racket," a voice informed rationally, perched on the ledge of the building. Fai looked up to see a pixie-like boy in grey clothing looking amusedly at him, "it will attract thugs."

"Thugs?" Fai inquired. The boy just stood with a wicked grin and hopped away across the top of the buildings. Before Fai could ponder the boy's words, a gruff voice said, "You thar! Wat're yer doin'?"

Without waiting for response, black figures emerged on all sides of Fai, quickly cutting off all means of escape. At least thirty men converged, with a gruff man with the gruff voice growling, "Ya're a spy, aren't yar? Get'im."

Fai laughed lightly, attempting to dodge all the fists and feet, "Oh là là."

--Oh là là! Fai est françias!--

"If ya don't wanna be dragged," the thief said to Mokona, as she struggled to remain upright as she was constantly forced to follow at most three feet from him, "ya should grab on." He held out an arm.

Mokona stood up and grudgingly hopped upon his shoulder, huffily facing away from his face.

"Ya may wanna take a look, Biscuit," the thief smirked, picking her up and holding her in front him, "ya may reck'nize someone." Mokona's mouth open wide and she struggled to get out of the thief's hands at the sight before her.

Below them, in three separate alleys, Fai, Kurogane, and Syaoran and Sakura struggle to fight off several masked thieves, each far outnumbered.

"They don't even realize how close they are ta each other neither," he said sadly with what would have been sympathy if he hadn't been smirking so impishly. He sighed, wrestling Mokona into submission without batting an eye.

"'Kay, Biscuit. This is how it's gonna work." The thief sat down, holding Mokona by her foot, "Those thugs down there belong ta anotha guild; a weaker guild." He paused to let his words sink in. Mokona froze and calmed. He set her down and she remained still.

"'Xactly. I'll save ya little friends who…," he glanced back at the battle scene. Sakura was huddled behind Syaoran, who seem to get more unsteady with his feet every moment. Kurogane fared the best, though he seemed to be struggling to deal non-fatal blows. Fai, however, was weaponless and surrounded on both sides, quickly being overtaken despite the ease he seemed to dodge blows and the playful attitude he kept up.

"…don't seem ta be gain'n the advantage, and ya," he looked back at her, "introduce me ta the ones who wan' this feather so bad they'll die for it." He put slight emphasis on the word 'die'.

Without waiting for a reply, already knowing how she would answer, he stood and slowly waved his hand in the air.

Three individual whirlwinds spun up and dropped into the three alleys. One landed in the knot that had cornered Syaoran and Sakura, whipping various objects around, another in the heart of the throng that now had completely swallowed Fai, with him in the center and the thugs whooshing off as the gust tossed his hair, and the last fell right in front of Kurogane, sucking up his sword into the air. All three returned, one baring Kurogane's sword, which dropped its cargo into the thief's hand as the other two disappeared. The remaining thugs looked up.

"Clear off, boys," the cool female fighting Kurogane said, "It's the King's Kid."

The wind mage gave a twisted smile at the woman and she nodded sarcastically. The thugs quickly fled. The thief then looked between where Fai, Syaoran, and Sakura were staring at him and where he gripped Kurogane's sword, "Interestin'," he said curiously as he opened his other hand, restoring Mokona's voice, then waved the same hand, releasing her. She instantly jumped to Fai.

"Hey! Give me back my sword!" shouted Kurogane loudly.

"Kuro-pin?"

"Kurogane-san? Fai-san?"

"Kid?"

"Syaoran-kun?"

"It's him!" Mokona shouted angrily, pointing at the thief, "he stole Mokona!"

"G'day!" the thief smirked with a mock bow, "Name's Morgan. I believe ya four," he flourished his hand, which suddenly held the feather, "are after this?" He raised an eyebrow.

As they all climbed up the crumbling walls to meet on the flat roof of the building separating them, Kurogane, the first to reach the top, growled, "You! Give me back my sword!"

"Ah…" Morgan moved his gaze to the sword in question, "yes, I meant ta ask 'bout that." He grinned at where Syaoran, Sakura, and Fai had joined Kurogane, moving the feather with his hand in a circle.

"It occurred ta me," Mokona floated up and glided to suspend above Morgan's head.

"That ya," he looked at the sword he held, then at Kurogane, "think fightin' can gain the thing you need ta move onward, don't cha?" he laughed.

"Ya," the thief held up the feather at Syaoran, "just wan' the feather," he glanced at Sakura, "ya don't seem ta have a much varyin' opinion, strangely 'nough, but ya," he looked up at Mokona then at Fai, "ya just seem ta wanna leave. All very interestin', all very much not my concern."

"Then why did you say it?" Fai inquired, unfazed.

"Bargainin' chips," Morgan replied simply, shrugging, "ya four very obviously know how ta use this feather, why else would ya wan' it, and I very obviously," he looked towards the horizon, "know what it can do," he looked down at them, "I may be a thief, but I know a fair trade. I'll give ya back these if ya do one favor in 'xchange."

"What type of favor?" Syaoran asked suspiciously.

"Nothin' much," the thief said nonchalantly, tossing Kurogane his sword and waving Mokona down to Fai, "I'm sure ya not'ced…" he caught sight of their expecting expressions, "Then, again, maybe not," he scowled at them, "Stupid travelers ya are, of course ya wouldn't. This land," the mage gestured around him, "had no color, still has no color. This has always been true, save our beautiful red sky," he mentioned the sky with almost fondness, then continued in a hard voice, "The land is made of browns 'n' grays and if ya paid attention insteada starin' at ya surroundin's, ya would no'ce ya ain't made a much mo' neither." The four glanced down at themselves, realizing that their clothes no longer held their former colors, but had been dyed gray, brown, and black instead.

"Idiocy," he said plainly, disdainfully, at their surprised reactions, "I was fool ta think ya'd know. N'ver mind what I said," Morgan held up the feather mockingly, "Ya wan' this feather back, figure out why the land is like it is, how ta fix it. Then maybe ya'll be able to complete my bargain. 'Til then," he smiled in mock peacefulness and left in a gust of wind with a wave.

"What just happened?" Syaoran wondered bewilderedly.

Fai smiled carelessly, "I haven't the slightest idea."

"Morgan-san told Mokona that there are guilds," Mokona supplied, "Probably thief guilds."

"Sounds logical," Syaoran admitted, "But that doesn't tell us what the reason we have no color is."

"He said something about the feather," she added, "changing the sky. Could that be what he meant?"

"But how do we fix it?" Kurogane reminded them, "That thief said we had to find out."

"What if the feather could change it back too?" Sakura asked.

"Morgan-san said to fix the land, not the sky," Mokona said.

"Well, if it changed the sky," Fai reasoned, "can't it fix the land?"

A quarter mile away, Morgan listened to their conversation through the wind.

"Very good," he murmured, "this must not be their first time dealin' with this kinda magic. Possibly with other feathers."

He shook his head as though to scatter further thoughts, "Best not think'a the possibilities."

He sighed and stood, "Under'stimated 'em. Far mo' clever than I thought. Or more 'xperianced."

Morgan dashed across the roofs to confront them once more.

"Figured it out?"

The voice snapped the five from their discussion.

Morgan cocked an eyebrow from where he sat, "Need more time?"

"The feather did it, right?" Fai smiled contently, "And it can do it again."

"We have a winner," the thief replied with a smile, "might as well 'xplain.

"Since three years ago, when'a lowly pickpocket pick'up a very strange feather that had ta come from a very strange bird," Morgan didn't notice Sakura scowl at him, "Frip, our king, who outsiders call our 'thief lord', changed the sky ta this," he motioned to the fiery-like sky, "while 'xperimentin' with the feather. Fearin' what other powers it would hold, the pickpocket stole it back. He had trouble concealin' it at first, and hadda steal it back many times. Others wan'da use it for personal gain, he…" at this point, Morgan pinched the feather and let it flap slightly in the breeze, "I wan'd some'n else," he sighed and closed his hand around it once more and gave them a piercing look, "Give this land the color that once belon'ed ta the sky and I'll let ya have the feather. Deal?"

He opened his hand and the feather floated exactly half-way between them.

"Could you pull it off, meat bun?" Kurogane asked, but she shook her head.

"Mokona doesn't know much about this world, so…"

Kurogane barely spared Fai a split second assessment before moving on without even a thought to asking, "Kid, know anything about magic?"

"Not this kind or caliber," Syaoran replied sadly, "I-"

"Deal." The answer came from Sakura, voice strong, and determined to prove she wasn't just a very strange bird.

Morgan grinned, "A'right, then," and waved his hand.

Sakura caught the feather and squeezed her eyes closed. At first, nothing seemed to happen, then the sky began to bleed and leak into the landscape, slowly consuming the dust and sepia tones and replacing them with yellow, red, pink, purple, and orange. Out of the earth came blues and greens, like groundwater rising to the surface. Colors wrapped around Kurogane and Fai, and then spun around Syaoran and Sakura.

It wasn't until the colors reached Morgan did the thief really grin. His hair, once the color of rust that dominated the land, now shone with the sheen of the deep red sky he was so fond of.

"Thank ya," he said. Mokona then began the transportation spell.

"You're welcome," Sakura smiled.

"Brat didn't deserve it," Kurogane grunted.

"Hyuu! Kuro-min is getting sentimental!"

"Shut up!"

As their voices and laughs faded, new ones took their place.

"Environmental sap-"

"Always knew it-"

"Way too attached-"

"Frip's gonna kill you-"

"Rainbow boy!"

"His own son-"

"Oh, he's dead for sure-"

"No way out-"

"Can't talk his way-"

"Skyhead!"

"Bleeding heart!"

"Prince gained the color and lost the feather!" They burst into laugher, and Morgan joined in.

"Yep, I'm pretty much due fo' the 'xecution block," he laughed again and a voice boomed from the south.

"MORGAAAAN!"

"But Dear Old Dad will have ta catch me first!" he shot up and took off in the opposite direction of the voice.

"Our prince-"

"Gotta love 'im-"

"But such a fool-"

"Might as well watch-"

"Oh, it'll be a show-"

"Let's go." Smirks were exchanged and the shadows ran off to join their guild leader.

--Epilogue--

"What is the meaning of this?!" King Frip demanded angrily at the thoroughly amused prince. The members of Morgan's guild speedily answered for him with such mock seriousness, they were nearly springing off the walls.

"Oh, you know how he is, king-"

"Head always to the sky-"

"He's not all a bad guy-"

"Preoccupied, 'sall-"

"So he couldn't respond to your call-"

"Just needs to turn his eye-"

"And give watching the ground a try!" the once gray, now blue, clad pickpockets laughed together.

Morgan just gave his father a smile.

"That's enough!" Frip said sharply, "Do they always act this foolishly?"

"What can I say, Daddy?" Morgan said false sheepishly, with a thinly veiled smirk at his rhyme.

"Rhymin'-"

"Stealin'-"

"All in our scope-"

"Don't reach the end of your rope-"

"We mean no harm, king so high-"

"Only that you-"

"Remember our guild's true design!"

Frip shook his head, rubbing his temples, as Morgan and his men looked at each other and laughed.

"What about this, this color nonsense?" the king inquired, twirling a hand vaguely.

The members of the entertainment guild Cloud exchanged devious looks.

"Bleeding heart-!"

"Rainbow boy-!"

"Skyhead-!"

"Enough!" Morgan intervened this time, "I get it! Sorry, Ma'esty, but I thought the world needed som' paint, so I hired som' contractors. If ya please accept this 'xplaination and get'on with the fact that ya 'air will now and for'ver be a shade of violet! No faulta mine."

He and his guild bowed with a good deal of sarcasm and hand-twirling to their purple-haired king and hopped out of the royal hall before Frip could react or order the guards to arrest them.

Outside, they partook in more cultured reflections of the new hues of Campo Do Sangue.

"Tulip terror-!"

"Almost like a 'shroom, wasn't it-?"

"Royal purple-!"

"Nah, it was more of a lilac-!"

"Lilac Blossom-!"

"True, true-"

"Lavender-!"

"Nearly smell the flowers-"

"Fruity Frip-!"

"Scented up to a full mile-!"

"My father ain't gay-!"

"Well, if you see it that way-"

"That is to say-"

"He had you, didn't he?!" They laughed at their prince and leader's expense, who took in good nature, even adding,

"Amethyst Emperor! And stop makin' funna my accent!" but the rebuke was ruined as soon as it began by Morgan's ear to ear grin.

The Cloud just snickered and kept up their skip across the crumbling rooftops and ruins, laughing out nicknames and pointing to the strange colors now dotting their land.

Author's Notes: