Author's Note: This story is un-beta'd so grammatical errors are sued on me. Out Of Characterization for the Main Characters are meant so problems about OOC-ness would be blamed on me too since if I don't alter any of their characterization my story won't come out right. And to be honest, Footprints in The Sand is a very heart-warming yet vulnerable story. I want it to be that way, so I'm not asking the readers who give their time to read my story to like this. You can criticize and flame but insults are practically banned. I'm obviously aware of my writing skills so if I suck then don't read. But still, I hope some of you would enjoy reading. I'd be grateful for that.

Footprints in The Sand

By Tsukasa Mizushima

Prologue:

Connection—

…

Dear God,
I know that she's out there,
the one that I'm suppose to share my whole life with.
And in time, you'll show it to me.
But will you take care of her,
comfort her & protect her
until that day we meet.
Let her know ...
my heart...
is beating with hers.

…

Underneath those glistening sky— in a bed, she lay beneath shredded clothes. Her body, so versatile and fragile, curled up into a fetal position— trembling. While her alabaster skin glowed with tainting colors of pain and horror— black, blue, red and violets— a deathly pale, sickening color of bruises, cuts, carnivore bitten marks, and monstrous intrusion to a helpless, very breakable body of a once innocent little girl.

She looked very pale, her eyes dull. Silky, shoulder length blonde hair tousled, while her red, bruised lips heaved a silent call he couldn't hear. Yet— her nearly cold, hazel eyes pleaded him, no, begged him— "…taskette, onegaii…"

Kind, ash-burn eyes jerked open, breathings heavy while his brows furrowed and his body shook in fear. The same-old dream, only in a different setting. Also, the same-old girl— beautiful, mesmerizing and broken— was asking him for help.

"…taskette, onegaii…" he repeated in a low whisper; his hands forming into a fist as he desperately recalled her— his broken love, his pleading angel whom he have never met before. Yet still, he grew attached to her and his dreams. He fell in love with her, somewhere in between his visage of her and his desperate longing for a missing part of him.

Yoh Asakura, tangled in his sleepless nights, sat on his futon while his desperate, charcoal eyes stared at the pale and tantalizing sky. It looked so breathtaking that it vivified and astound him. It reminded him of her and how solemn and sad she often looked.

The brunette groaned in frustration before attraction began to flex on his handsome face as he wavered his eyes again at the sky and at the image of the crescent moon. Adoration, pure adoration as his eyes sparkled when he noticed how mystique the moon looked. It even brought a smile upon his dry lips, while somehow an unexplained longing still remained plastered on his beautiful face. But he heeded not to contemplate and say a word. He didn't want to long for her tonight. He truly and needed sleep. The second semester starts tomorrow, so it's a big day. He can't waste his time sleeping yet again.

But out of habit, he would pray for her—always. The young brunette dearly prayed, for half of his life— almost every day—that those blonde locks he sees while he closes his eyes: those sadden, longing hazel hues that plead him for safety, that angelic face that would always appear in front of him, hoping. That in time, surely, the moon's phantasmal light and her unheard voice would serve as his guidance to help him find the cause of his sleepless nights— his gnawing craving for a part of him that's been missing for such a very long time; his one true happiness. The girl—that girl, who's been aimlessly waiting for him in that cold, shallow room; hearing his prayers, begging him, waiting for him to save her, to be with her, to protect her.

"… taskette, onegaii…" Yoh remembers.

For eight long years, he sees flashbacks and unwanted memories of the girl. The brunette couldn't even call it a dream, no. It feels real, and by just closing his eyes he could see her. The same old girl, so beautiful yet so fragile and frail— obviously toyed around. And God, she astounds him and that made him swore, ever since he was ten, that he'll find her, somehow— someday.

The young brunette sighed. It seems like sleep can't take over him, so he stood up from his messed up futon and went downstairs to have a cup of milk to help him get back to sleep. Morning was only a matter of hours away but he found it hard to function when he lacked sleep, which happens often since he was a much known light sleeper.

Yoh sighed again. No use thinking of un-relevant things. He thought to himself before gently opening his door without any noise. The brunette acknowledged the fact that his roommates were still asleep so sounds that can wake up his roomies; Horo-Horo and Ren were absolutely a no, no. The two seems to get quite perky, mostly Ren, when being awaken without any plausible reason.

He grinned at thought before proceeding downstairs to their –ahem- Yoh's –ahem- supposed to be –ahem- mayhem -ahem- I mean, kitchen.

Yoh grabbed a carton of milk inside the refrigerator before pouring it down to his favorite mug. He then went upstairs to his room again and sat at the window sill, thinking while drinking the remnants of the almost empty mug.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, the moon's glow lulling him to slumber once again. But when sleep was finally taking over, a flash of an angel— battered, wounded, abandoned, helpless, and alone— made through his vision, making the brunette jerk up and slam his fist to the floor. Blonde hair sprawled to the floor, kimono tattered, face filled with bruises, her small, fragile body assaulted. Yoh's heart pounded. He felt helpless. Ever since he was little, he dreamt of her, that girl who always looks at him with broken eyes. He was often drowned by her. He didn't even know her yet he felt an actual connection between them. She always calls for him— always.

He couldn't stop dreaming of her. She wouldn't stop haunting his thoughts. He doesn't know what to do anymore— he really doesn't know…

"…Please, please—protect her. Please tell her that I'm always here, searching, looking. And I—I promise. Someday soon, I swear. I'll find her. I will. So please, don't let her die— stop her from crying, Dear God, please—"

Yoh cried. She was dying and he knows it. She's finally giving up and God, that brought an ache somewhere in his heart. It crippled his very existence into a puddle of ash.

"…please, save her." he sobbed, shaking uncontrollably until sleep took over him…

"…taskette onegaii, Yoh."

"… taskette onegaii…"

…

God,

Would you keep her safe from the thunderstorm
When the day is cold
When you keep her warm
When darkness falls
Will you please shine her the way
God, will you let her know
That I love her so
And there's no one there
That she's not alone
Just close her eyes
And let her know
My heart is beating with hers

…

To Be Continued

Author's Note: It's only an introduction, okay? The next chapter would be the actual start. I got addicted to this song, bleh, that's why I wrote this. The pure "YOU SUCK" is always present in my stories. Yeah, I know… I SUCK!!!!