READ THIS FIRST:

THIS IS A SEQUEL to another fanfic. I highly doubt it will make much sense unless you have read Where Black Met Gold, in terms of context, and OCs, and OCs who aren't really OCs, people who are supposed to be dead, etc. If read independently, this story will probably seem like an alternate universe, when it actually takes place approximately thirty eight years after the end of the anime. Also, if you were to read this, it would ruin the suspense in WBMG. If you feel like reading one of my stories, check out Where Black Met Gold. If you already have, then please, do proceed, and hopefully, enjoy.

As with its predecessor, this story will eventually contain violence and adult content (at which time, the rating will change, circa chapter 3), though nothing extreme on either front, at least in my opinion. At this point, the only objectionable material will be some moderately strong language.

And now, my "legal" limerick…

I don't own the series, so please do not sue

It just gave me the urge to write something new

That disclaimer was quick, so now on with the fic,

And please don't forget to review!

At first she couldn't even open her eyes; everything was so bright. It was nearly a minute before she could even managed a squint. She instinctively brought her flattened palm up to her brows and finally forced her eyelids to open.

Her lips parted, breath stolen as she slowly turned in a full circle, taking in the entire view. The rag she'd been holding to her shoulders fluttered to the ground, forgotten.

It was all so big, everything went on forever, distant and yet all entirely within her reach. At her front were rolling green hills that looked perfect for running, to her left, gray rocky crags that looked perfect for climbing, behind her, a rundown castle that looked perfect for exploring, to her right, shady woods that looked perfect for wandering.

In that glorious moment, she wished that she could burst into a thousand pieces, so she could be everywhere, to touch and taste and smell everything all at once.

Her feet carried her across the tawny-colored cobblestones, until she reached the border where cold stone ended and lush green began.

"Teeheehee," she giggled nervously.

She fidgeted with a lock of ratted hair while she looked down, as if gauge the drop of a cliff, extending one foot, toes tentatively brushing the grass as if testing the temperature of a bath.

The corners of her lips curled in a smile, still parted in an expression of awe as she stepped forward onto the green, looking down at her feet, rapidly stepping in place in an odd sort of dance, the unkempt, supple blades tickling between her toes.

Without warning, that fascinating sight went out of focus; she trembled as she sank down to her knees.

She knew her body well enough to realize what that meant.

Thirsty.

She found herself walking toward the scent of food straightaway, down the rounded face of an emerald hill, bringing her into view of yet another castle. For a moment, she wondered if she'd doubled back to where she'd started.

But no, this one looked different, it didn't seem rundown or deserted.

Her head snapped to the side like a jittery bird, the sound of something breaking catching her attention.

A gray-haired, middle-aged woman stood gawking at her, dressed in a long black gown and neat white apron, an upended tray and mound of shattered china at her feet.

"Where are your clothes?!"

It was only then that she realized she was completely naked.

The lady grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into a nearby door.

"Mademoiselle, your practical jokes are getting entirely out of hand," the lady lectured dragging her through the high-ceilinged halls too fast for her to get a good look at them, "Someone could have seen you! I have half a mind to box your ears! My word, and on the day of the master's party, his guests could have seen you! Where is Haji? Doesn't he usually keep you out of trouble? I should box his ears too!" her voice lowered to a faint mutter, clearly only intended for herself. "I'll bet he knows where your clothes are, I'll bet he was the one who took them off."

The gray-haired lady threw open a large, polished oak door, yanking her into a comparatively small room.

She examined her surroundings once more. To the right was a generously proportioned bed, adorned with red damask curtains, to the left, a single fresh pink rose sat atop a elegantly carved chest of drawers, and the walls were decorated with almost as many paintings as would fit on them, like a teenager's wall, full of posters.

It looked like the set of a historical movie; the only light came from the waning sunlight through the lace draped windows and a brass candelabra burning on the bedside table - no sign of any modern amenities at all.

"Now what on earth were you thinking? What will the master say when I tell him that Saya was wandering the grounds, naked as the day she was born?!"

"Saya?"

"Yes, Saya!" the woman snapped. "My word!"

"I'm – I'm Diva."

The lady's eyes narrowed. "Very funny. Your singing isn't that pretty," she groaned sarcastically.

The gray-haired lady stared at her for a few seconds; something seemed to don on her.

"Mademoiselle, your eyes – they've turned blue," she stammered.

That statement seemed a little odd to her.

"Blue?"

"Yes, look!" the woman gestured to the mirror on the wall.

"Saya!" she called out giddily at the reflection, approaching the glass, poking it several times, then pulling it from the wall to peek behind it, her face with a rather puzzled expression as she patted the back of the mirror.

"Mademoiselle," the woman was starting to sound less annoyed than concerned, "- are you feeling alright?"

She didn't quite know how to answer that question, the mirror fell from her hands, shattering on the floor.

The lady swept her hand across her forehead. "You don't feel feverish, but then again – well, we must get you decent, the master will know what to do." The lady opened a nearby drawer, pulling out a bundle of white cloth.

"We'll forget about your party dress for now, let's get you into your dressing gown, now – there, much better. Now then, I'll go get the master, you just lie down and rest, I'll be right back."

The lady disappeared, leaving her alone.

Ignoring the order to get in bed, she began to pace about the enormous room, poking, caressing, sniffing, tasting every object she came across, eventually coming to the candelabra.

She plucked one of the candles from its cup, holding it up in front of her face, the flame immediately burning the tip of her nose. The candle was tossed to the ground in disgust, rolling a few inches across the floor until it was stopped by one of the bed feet.

She didn't feel even the slightest tinge of guilt or fear as she watched the golden flames climb up the bed curtains, observing for nearly a minute before losing interest and making her way over to a window and the exciting sounds coming from beyond it.

Trying to lean out for a look, she lightly bumped her head on the glass, gazing down at a small crowd of people, again in the sort of suits and gowns one would see in a period piece or history book.

Without hesitating, she smashed the glass of the window, wounds from the move closing up before her feet hit the ground amongst the crowd of guests.

"Diva!"

It didn't sound quite right, the inflection of her name was less surprised and terrified than embarrassed, whispered through gritted teeth and frowning lips.

She snorted as she came to, eyes opening to the fake wood laminate of a school desk.

"Hmm?!"

"Class is over, jackass."

Diva turned to see the person sitting next to her, somewhere between girl and young woman, sandy-beige skin and short dark brown hair streaked with bleach-blonde, eyes lined in black. She looked like the sort of girl who would knowingly be friends with a "vampire," or rather, be relatively unphased when her friend told her two years earlier. Diva's friend was known as "Max."

The two girls walked out the door and onto the pavement of the outdoor campus, dressed identically not only to each other, but to every other girl there, black straight-legged slacks, loose white blouse and golden-orange tie partially obscured by a black waistcoat that was obviously a good bit tighter than what the school's administration would have preferred. By 2044, the style was antiquated enough to be utilized as a school uniform.

"Diva, you are hopeless," the girl grumbled through a suppressed smile, "I think Madame McGill just lets you sleep in class because at least then you aren't bugging me."

"I can't help it, it's just so boring."

"Why do you take it, then?"

"Keeps my grades from going completely to shit," Diva answered casually.

"Where'd you learn French anyway?"

"Hell if I know." She turned to her friend with a grin. "You wanna know something totally funny?"

"What?"

"The dream I had, just now, I think it was in French."

The two girls laughed.

"What was it about?"

"I dunno, I guess I already forgot most of it, you know how dreams are. I think it was just one of those suddenly realize that you're butt-naked dreams."

They laughed again. The subject now seemed exhausted, so it was changed.

"So, it's almost winter break. You have anything fun planned?"

Diva gave a deep sigh not of relief, as such a statement should have elicited, but of frustration.

"Jeez, get a grip, Diva! How is vacation depressing?"

Diva stopped in her tracks and leaned back amongst some nearby lockers, head clinking harshly against one of the thin steel doors.

"It's just that – my parents are going out of town, and I'm a million percent sure that they're going to Okinawa!"

"Isn't that where your long-lost sister lives?"

"Yeah! I mean they've both gone there before, but never both of them at the same time – and I have to stay home!"

"So wait, your parents are going to spend the holidays with your sister – and you're not invited?"

"I don't get it!" Diva exclaimed, "Why don't they want me to see her?! Why doesn't she want to see me?! I mean, I know she's busy with her new husband and her kids but she can't even take the time to acknowledge my existence?! I haven't heard from her even once in the past five years."

"Since you lost your memories, huh?"

"I don't care if she has freakin' octuplets, you'd think she could at least find time to email me or something! And anyways, my freakin' parents won't let me contact her first, they say it would be rude or something, and won't give me the number. What the hell is going on?!"

In truth, Diva's resurrection was still a secret, carefully guarded by her mother and stepfather. At this time, Saya had absolutely no idea that her twin arch-nemesis was now living as a relatively normal high schooler a few thousand miles away.

Diva's friend tilted her head, and gazed thoughtfully at the overhang. "Don't take this the wrong way but – has it occurred to you that – well, maybe your sister might be a – you know, cold-hearted bitch."

Diva laughed uncomfortably. "Oh, like my evil twin or something? – No, I don't think that's it, I think if she was a cold-hearted bitch, then she wouldn't be so devoted to her husband and kids, you know?"

"Well, do you think that – maybe she's holding a grudge against you for something that happened before your amnesia?"

"Eureka! I can't think of any other explanation!" Her voice lowered. "But that just brings up a whole new question – what is it that I did, that was so bad that she still won't talk to me even after thirty-eight years and I've forgotten all about it?!"

"How do you stand it?" Her friend asked sympathetically. "How can you stand not knowing anything about your past? I mean, your parents must know something, if I was you, I'd like – go on a hunger strike until they told me everything."

Diva's eyes shifted to the lower left. "I know, I know. Pretty much all they've told me is that there's a bunch of stuff I'm better off not knowing."

"Still! Whatever it is, I can't imagine that it's worse than not knowing."

"Yeah, but – I know that I should want to know, that it should be driving me crazy that they won't tell me, and it is… " She twirled a strand of hair nervously around her finger. "But at the same time – I have this feeling that – well, what if they're right? What if it's something really, really horrible, something I couldn't handle?"

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

Diva directed a slightly teary glance at her friend, a look that was half thank you, and half please shut up.

"I just - want to have a sister."

Diva's head drooped forward, stray locks of hair obscuring the liquid pooling in the corner of her eyes.

Her friend leaned to the side, laying her head on Diva's shoulder.

"I'll be your sister," Max offered.

Diva smiled. "I know, I know… but… I want my – my – real sister, my blood sister. I mean, aren't twins supposed to have some deep, mystical connection?"

Her friend snapped up to a sitting position, as if a light bulb had just lit up over her head. "Diva, look at it this way – your parents are going out of town - hello?! Party!"

"Negative," Diva grumbled. "My parents are having someone come over and housesit, some cousin that I've never even met, my dad knows him." She flashed a slight smile. "On the ever-so-slightly brighter side, my dad did mention that he's kinda cute – and my dad's actually a surprisingly good judge."

"Hmm, well, what good will it do you if he's cute? He's your cousin? Gross."

"Well, not my real cousin, you know how weird my family is about that sort of thing."

"Not your real cousin?" The girl grinned. "Good, then your babies won't be inbred abominations."

Someone else joined the conversation before Diva could react.

"Hey."

"Hi, Wes," the two girls said casually.

"So, who's having who's baby?" the mousy-haired young man asked.

Diva grinned mischievously. "Max's having your baby, Wes. You see, her sexual fantasies about you have gotten so vivid that she's been – um, psychically impregnated by you, or something."

The young man laughed, and Max elbowed Diva in the ribs a little harder than could be called playful.

The moment was diffused by a loud honk from the parking lot across the lawn.

"Yoohoo! Precious!"

Diva's head sunk down toward her collar.

A familiar car was parked up against the curb, and her was dad waving a two-piece sports uniform out the driver-side window, her mother seated beside him.

"Look what I found in the dryer!"

"Diva, is it just me, or is your dad a little – weird?" the young man asked in a whisper.

"No, a lot weird," she muttered, shuffling toward the car.

Her dad leaned out the window. "Now you would have looked pretty funny going to practice, naked."

She reached for the bundle, but it was snatched away before she could grasp it.

"Ah ah ah, now what do we say, precious?"

"Thanks mom, thanks dad," she mumbled, swiping the bundle from his hand, and proceeding on to her destination, pretending to ignore them.

Her parents, the ancient Queen now known as Yuki, and her ancient Chevalier, now known as Freddie, drove off, the former turning to the latter with a smile. "Two friends! She's doing so well! I'm so proud!"

"Me too, my love."

A few seconds passed. "She's totally ready."

"You mean to meet Saya?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm, I agree with you. Diva is ready, but -"

" - Saya might not be?" Yuki finished his statement. "Do you think she'll freak out when we tell her that Diva's alive?"

"It's more than just a possibility."

Yuki's brows fell. "But why? I mean, Diva's blood is inert now, and more importantly, she hasn't received the blood of her Chevalier, so, not only does she have no memory of her wild-years, but she has virtually no chiropteran powers. She's as harmless as a human."

"Yes, but you've seen how stubborn and irrational Saya can get."

"Yeah… Do you think she'll refuse to meet her?"

Freddie shrugged slightly, still driving. "I suppose we'll know soon enough. But, we've given Saya a few years to learn how to be a wife, and a few more to learn how to be a mother. It's about damn time she learned how to be a sister."

Please review! If it seems like people are interested in this story, then I promise I will see it through to the end.