Chapter #4: The Legend of the Nowhere Man

In the depths of the human brain, there is a section that keeps hold of its fondest and most despicable memories. Where every day that it stores counts as either the best or the worst, and none besides those are even cared for in such a manner. My own mind is no different… it kindles only my best days; something of the present in comparison to the rest; and my worst… my wretched and abhorrent childhood, of which I never think to mention in civilized conversation. No less than torturous hell accompanied me until I turned seventeen… the age I am now. As a child no larger than a basset hound in my Mewtwoan form, I was treated in the manner of a spider, kicked around like the dog they thought I was, and belittled because I was… dare I say it? A runt.

Hence was the reason I turned on humanity and took out half their species in a bloodthirsty rage. I have nothing against mankind… save for their greed and stupidity… and I had absolutely nothing against each person individually, but the human race had to pay for what had been done to me. Since I was a no-name clone without a history to back me up, I could get away with such crime unpunished unless I was identified, found, and caught… a probability that turned out to be less than being able to win the lottery… I never stayed in the same place more than a few hours and no living being had ever seen my face more than a few seconds at a time. That is, until I started dating.

That was when I actually remembered my anthropomorphic form—I'd lied when the others were convincing me to become one… I knew well enough how to, since long before I was ten. I just wanted to humor them and let them think they knew something I didn't.

It's a rare occurrence when someone is more knowledgeable than me.

I met girls who had their own particular sense of attraction… many of them who thought I was Prince Charming, looks and all. Honestly, I believe I'm no more charming than a warthog, but to each his own I guess. My problem is, I'm a romantic. I read Shakespeare, watch sunrises at every chance, and I write… not your average testosterone-driven "manly-man" that won't admit he's wrong. That is, most of the time… I had to be a credible straight man, and 'romantic' doesn't always fit into that category. And of course… I won't dare let anyone push me around. I've taken too much of that abuse already.

Females seem to be attracted to my type… drawn like ignorant moths to an open flame. And still, I have trouble understanding.

I have these discussions with myself more and more lately… something that keeps my mind off what actually happened and directs the problem, nonetheless. I needed a bit of meditation so I wouldn't drive myself mad and turn to what I once was… what I was trying to get rid of. I admit, I was horrible and uncaring, absolutely wretched and loathsome to be around. A demon in wolf's clothing… because I certainly didn't look the part of an angel as much as I actually wasn't. I still have dead, weathered skin covered by tiger-stripe scars and never-healing scabs that seem to remain and taint my white fur crimson-slashed.

It seems that since I wasn't one of those depression-addicts that were into self-mutilation, I was the punching bag—the rhetorical cutting board—for everyone else. Either way, I'm a mess of hacked flesh any way you slice it.

Call me drab or long-winded; maybe even melodramatic, but I enjoy keeping my target on their toes… so they might be ready for anything I could throw at them. Unfortunately, there is but one person that has caught onto my drawn-out testing… her name is Lionell Meilin Sasaki. Of relation, but how exactly, I know not. Lion's wife, meaning that she married into the family; so Lion would have to be my relative somehow… her maiden name was Ikube.

Being a college professor, I would hope she could handle my mind-games… though she was a smart girl. Always was. I had no reason to worry about her, even with her being married to that klutz.

"He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody…" I heard, as (speak of the devil) my fellow Sasaki approached. He was singing, and though his voice was a bit off-key, he wasn't bad. In fact, he seemed to be singing a chord of the actual pitch.

"What song?" I inquired sharply in my dark and villainous voice, causing him to start, and cease his serenading.

He looked back at me and sighed. "Oi, don't scare me like that, Shiro. I thought you were Char-Char playing a trick on me again… little bastard has a mousy voice normally, but he can mimic people surprisingly well, and he seems to have picked up on your voice lately."

"I see…" I offered. "I'll have to show him what the real Shiro can sound like, eh? He shouldn't become so big-headed."

"No, no, don't do that. You might give him a heart attack. I don't want him hurt, just to stop copying people. He's my best friend. Has been for… twenty eight years, was it?" he calculated mentally.

"Since you were a year old?" I asked of him, to make sure he was accurate.

"About, yeah." He agreed. "Though he was maybe five, then."

"Amazing, how that little rat is barely half of you and four years older." I offered, chuckling. "Though I'm one to talk."

"Oh, no, he was only kind of short… I'm massive." He assured, leaning against the tree next to me. "About… seven-foot four at twenty-nine. Yup, I could look down at most basketball players."

"I don't know how tall I am, but I'd rather not compare, lest I should demean myself." I told him simply.

"You? Well, Kasumi's about five-five; average for a girl; and—no offense—but you reach her breast level, so I'd have to say you're about… four-ten, four-eleven, five foot at most."

The embarrassing thing was; he was right. Four-eleven as a human… a wretched height to have to uphold, I tell you. Rightfully, I wanted to be at least five-four. That would be appropriate… I was past human puberty, as well as Mewtwoan, so in all rights, I was a………… midget. "Shut your fat mouth." I barked under my breath.

"Ha!" he called out, laughing. "There's that attitude I've grown so used to hearing from you. I was wondering why you were being so civil with me."

"Call it a good mood." I told him.

"A good mood?" he reiterated. "Strange; something I've never seen, but I seem to like it."

I managed a smirk. "Enjoy it while it lasts… the reason you've never seen it is because it's a rare happening."

"Next time, I'll get it on tape." He joked, chuckling.

I snorted. "Better get it now—there may not be a next time."

He shook his head, shooting me a sly gaze from above. "No need to worry," he muttered quietly, still grinning, "I know there'll be a next time."

His cool logic baffled me. Was it not only the previous day that he couldn't tell left from right? He was unyieldingly drunk almost every day of every week of his life, and yet… one had to wonder. What was he hiding? Behind his calm façade, hidden beneath his grinning face, something was going on in that mind… something no one thought could ever be. Screws were loose here and there, mainly in the areas of memory and priority, but the whole machine still yet functioned. And still to a considerable degree.

Being the son of that Mewtwo, Shadow, I suppose he would've had to be somewhat smart… but this was puzzling.

He gave me a strange look, cocking a brow. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted."

I shook my head slowly, and he turned away without another word. "Nothing." I assured him, turning back to take a second glance. Was he a wandering mind, like I was? Did he look to the heavens for his answers? Aye, his head was facing the clouds, and indeed, something deep was happening behind his violet eyes.

Thinking about this, I had to wonder how he'd inherited eyes so prominently purple when his father had silver eyes. His mother would've had to have the same color as him, or a dark pink to create such a color. Strange, how I was so fascinated with genetics and such. I was a mystery myself, but I could deduce anything about an individual if I was given their characteristics and those of one parent or child.

"Your mother had pink eyes, didn't she?" I inquired, just to be sure of my hypothesis.

He jumped at the sound of my voice. "What? I… I think so… I don't really know for sure. She died when I was really young."

"Why are you so startled when I address you?" I inquired wryly, actually becoming amused by his habits.

He shook his head. "That voice of yours is something else… and especially when you just say things out of nowhere. Majorly creepy, dude."

I laughed aloud. "You know, that's funny." I told him. "No one's ever said that before."

"Well, no one else I know pays as much attention as I do." He offered quietly. "I grew up with a keen sense of awareness."

"I grew up with an over-developed sense of vengeance." I admitted. "Just shows you where that lead me."

"I don't know how." He said quietly. "You were always so… blissful when you were that young."

"Until the tatters of humanity reared their ugly head."

He had nothing to say to that. But he did look back at me. "Perhaps… if the world wasn't so full of hate and prejudice, you would've never turned out like you did. Perhaps if there weren't people with a distraught sense of right and wrong, there would be no crime, no rape, no murder. Perhaps… if everyone knew everything they were supposed to…" he laughed. "That'd be one hell of a boring place, wouldn't you agree?"

I had to humor him. He had things straight, right out, and I couldn't deny what he was saying. The only thing I had left to wonder… was why fate had chosen me. Why I was the pawn to make the first move in the chess game; the one that made it to the other side of the board and became a queen, taking out every other piece on the field… because I had the power to?

"You know, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, buddy. What's on your mind?" he asked.

I shook my head. "You know I'm not going to tell you, so why do you ask?" I countered. "I don't like to answer questions, so shame on you, then."

He shot me a whimsical look. "Why don't you like to answer questions? Deep-seated fear of incrimination or something?"

I shot him a vexed glare and snorted. "I fear nothing."

He laughed aloud, slowly shaking his head. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" he asked. "But everyone fears something. Even if it's a complicated chain of events having no relevance whatsoever, it can unnerve you and make you wish for things that you thought you could never demand."

He was incredibly suspicious. Not only was he describing an unknown notion to me, but he was also in-depth with his depiction and exulting a feel for his words as though it had happened to him. He had to be sober. "So, let me ask you one thing, Lion."

He turned his eyes back in question. "Hm?"

"How do you know so well?"

He seemed dodgy and evasive towards my inquiry. "I guess you could say I felt the same way when my best friend was killed." A short pause. "Not Charles, of course, but someone else."

"Who, then?" Charles!? What a name for a Charmander…

He lowered his head. "I guess you could say we were kindred spirits when first we met. It was shortly after my blood brother, Shiro, died." He explained. "Hence was actually the inspiration for your name…" he smirked. "That and the dude from 08th MS Team."

I remembered when I'd met Lion quite clearly. Many years ago, but still fresh in the bowels of my memories. He was the one that told me… that I wasn't just a number. That I was an individual. I was born a clone, but raised for a few short years as though I was his son.

"Yeah, you reminded me of my dad when I first saw you, but you also had Shiro's innocence then. He had no one, and then I came along… I guess you could say I offered life to him on a silver platter… but then again, that could go either way. He was much older than me."

"By how much?" I asked in sheer curiosity.

"Oh, more than a decade. He was very in-tune with his religion, and he told me he was a god, but I believed anything back then. I would've never thought a word against him." He laughed a slight. "He was a great guy. Even nowadays, anyone would believe him if he told them he was a god… mainly because he never said a word around anyone. But even though he was a barbaric killer who hunted his food, he was the sweetest, most docile person I'd ever met next to my mother. Sure, he came off as animalistic the first time I saw him as he was ripping the flesh from a dead carcass, but when I shakingly told him I wasn't scared of him, he just laughed and answered: Oh, you're not, are you?"

I nodded, keeping my words to a minimum.

"It was funny. For a bloodthirsty hunter, he had a slick and charming voice, almost inviting and certainly divine, if anything. It was strange how only three other people ever heard it."

"Really?" I inquired of him, thinking of my own voice and almost gagging because of how much I hated it.

"Myself, a girl named Genie, a man who went by the name of Nezumi, and… Kasumi."

I wasn't entirely sure he'd wanted to tell me that, because he knew I liked to pry… to know everything I possibly could, no matter the consequences. I think he knew I would speak to her if I found this out, and well, he was right. I planned on doing no less.

"The only reason Nezumi was one of them… was that I found out he was involved in Shiro's death… I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Shiro still trusted him." He ended quietly.

"Just goes to show you… you can never truly trust anyone. No matter how much they seem like the best person or even someone who could change, chances are—you're wrong."

He looked down at me, a serious, somber stare. "I don't think you really mean that. Because I still trust you… I know that you can change."

"How are you so sure." I returned, more a statement than a question.

"Because no matter how you try to deny it, no matter what you say about yourself… you're not like everyone else. There's something about you that no one else seems to have… it's understanding, Shiro. You get things… almost instantly, you see things that it would take many a lifetime to figure out. Therefore, you have the strength to welcome change." He explained, pushing himself away from the tree and heading forth at a lagging pace.

I tailed him at a reasonable distance, and it seemed as though he'd wanted me to follow him, because he picked up his tempo and led me deeper into the woods.

He was certainly quite the questionable one, his intentions never really clear and his trailing point hard to catch if one wasn't following everything he said… like myself, he was somewhat long-winded… like myself…

The more I thought about it, we were quite similar. I might've picked it up from when I was young and he took me in, or we might just have common ancestry. There was one thing that could clarify that… and I'd destroyed it. Team Rocket cloned me, and they abandoned me because I was simply mismatched. Because I had two differently colored eyes and I was no larger than a small dog… they left me to die… so I came back and killed the scientist bastard that created me and destroyed all of my files.

Thanks to Lion, I wasn't a number… I wanted my creators to know that as well as I did. No matter how annoying he normally was, I had to give him credit for who I am. He really wasn't a bad person—he was just so drunk he was stupid. I guess our views clashed more than one way.

"Alright, Shiro." He said, sitting promptly and facing me. "Fess up, you're hiding something."

"Oh, you're a brilliant one, though I would try my best not to be a hypocrite, Lion." I countered. "Don't think you've left me in the dark so easily."

"I didn't… I was just wondering; if you're such a horrible sonofabitch, what reason have you to be that way?"

"My logic may leave you in the dust. I don't think you're quite ready to hear my story just yet." I told him. Truth be told, I simply didn't wish to reminisce in my worst days.

"I don't believe that." He told me, staring with his almost piercing purple eyes.

"Believe what you will." I retorted. He said he trusted me, that much I knew already… but I didn't care. I wasn't going to tell him… I wasn't going to tell anyone what'd happened to me to make me what I am. Never was I going to have to relive it again, of that much I was sure. "But it's not going to happen."

The story was a horrid happening, time and time again, misery after misery. When I was one and a half years (plenty old enough to a Mewtwo) it began, and it screeched to a halt at seventeen… fifteen and a half years of torture, suffrage, and hopeless existing, begging to whatever god would listen that I would live to see the next day—I quickly became an atheist after that.

"Shiro, what have you got to hide? What's so bloody horrible that you can't bear to utter aloud!?"

"Everything!" I barked back, causing him to recoil. "Everything since I wasn't even two… up until now." I hissed. "Everything."

"Alright, I won't pry any further. Just know, that I intend to eventually find out." He assured me. "Someday."

"Don't get your hopes up." I told him, rising to my feet and beginning to walk away.

He stayed silent, looking to the sky again.

"By the way… you never really did answer my question." I added.

"Question? What question?" he queried.

I chuckled. "What song you were singing when you first entered."

He smirked. "Actually, it's called Nowhere Man. An old song by the Beatles, and I think you'd like it."

"Really, now? Muse me."

He laughed again, standing and walking after me.

"He's a real nowhere man

sitting in his nowhere land

making all his nowhere plans for nobody.

Doesn't have a point of view

knows not where he's going to

Isn't he a bit like you and me?

Nowhere man, please listen.

You don't know what you're missing.

Nowhere man, the world is at your command.

He's as blind as he can be

just sees what he wants to see.

Nowhere man, can you see me at all?

Nowhere man, don't worry.

Take your time, don't hurry.

Give it all, 'til somebody else lends you a hand.

He's a real nowhere man

sitting in his nowhere land

making all his nowhere plans for nobody.

Doesn't have a point of view

knows not where he's going to.

Isn't he a bit like you and me?

He's a real nowhere man

sitting in his nowhere land

making all his nowhere plans for nobody…

making all his nowhere plans for nobody…

making all his nowhere plans for nobody." He ended.

"Gee, sounds like me." I mumbled to myself.

"Shiro, you have no idea." He assured, beginning to sing again. "Making all his nowhere plans for nobody…"

Fin

Hah! You actually thought I'd end it there? Boy, you're gullible.

As I followed him, he began humming and I drifted off into thought. He was a musical individual, anyone could tell, and I wasn't entirely sure he was drunken or not. This attitude was normal for him, and sure, he was a bit smarter than usual, but not by much. I felt the need to inquire.

"Are you by any chance drunk?" I queried of Lion quietly, merely a curiosity in the works.

"Drunk as a skunk, little Shiro." He replied callously, a wave of his hand.

I shot him a look of scrutiny. "Then how are you so cognizant?"

"'Twas only a beer, boy… and I have a high tolerance to alcohol." He explained. "It all works, phonetically."

"Uh… huh…" I offered as a reply, not entirely sure what was going through that man's mind at any time, let alone now. "Why do you drink so much anyhow?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms. "It's addictive, and one of my old friends that I haven't seen in ages got me drinking in the first place…"

"So you're saying you weren't experimenting and simply gave in to peer pressure?"

"What, and you haven't?" he retorted.

"No."

He snorted. "Oh, I believe that for a second. Come on, you would've had to be convinced into something at least once in your life."

"Not that I recall." I answered, letting my voice trail off into silence. "Actually, I haven't had much contact with anyone, and when I did, I was the butch."

"Interestingly enough… I would've never imagined." He sneered in light sarcasm, batting his dark eyes girlishly.

"I caught that, Lion." I warned him. "Remember, I'm the king of sarcasm."

"Any reason?" he questioned.

I chuckled to myself. "Because I find it funny." I replied shortly. "Because I like to lead people on and prove how gullible or easily influenced they are… because I like to keep people on their toes and have them think for themselves instead of someone telling them."

"Has it worked?"

"No, not lately…" I admitted. "I'm starting to believe that people will never begin to think for themselves."

He waved a hand assuringly. "Don't worry, little Shiro… someday, people will start to catch on."

"Hopefully…" I added drearily.

He began to hum once again, this time a different tune than the one before. He slowly began to conduct an invisible orchestra, starting with the lyrics. "Yesterday… all my troubles seemed so far away… now it looks as though they're here to stay, oh I believe in yesterday…"

Thinking a moment, I recognized this song. Of course, I knew it well quite some time ago. I decided to take over for him. "Suddenly… I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me… oh yesterday came suddenly."

He watched me wide-eyedly, unable to continue his conducting and slack-jawed.

"Why she had to go, I don't know… she wouldn't say. I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday…" I continued, ending on a trailoff.

He shook his head in disbelief, and I had to wonder what for. I certainly didn't think there was reason… I hated my voice.

"Shiro… your singing voice… holy Jesus!" he cried. "It's like an angel just sang before me… Christ, man, you've got some talent!"

"Whatever." I told him.

"And then you go and ruin it by belittling yourself again. Damnit, boy!" he growled in frustration. "You have so little faith in yourself, let alone at all."

"Possibly because I've gotten no less than hell for most of my adolescent life." I told him. "It's not that I don't have faith… it's that I've lost it over time."

"Well, I guess that's an explanation, if anything." He murmured. "Though I would've thought your beliefs were as strong as your will; having lived as long as you did."

I shook my crown dramatically. "If my faith was as powerful as my will, I would've been dead long before I actually did… and I would be watching earth from the heavens by now."

In the distance, I settled upon something, spotting another creature approaching from the distance. How they knew where Lion and I were is still a mystery, but I suppose at least one person in this household had to keep track of the lout.

"Who's that?" he inquired, I'm sure noticing the same being I was thinking of. He was right in saying he had a keen sense of awareness.

"I don't know." I assured him, squinting to focus the only eye of mine that could see. However, all I could tell was that it was Mewtwoan.

"Seems familiar." He added. "Though being around here, you'd have to know just about everyone; seeing as they're your only friends 24/7."

He had a point; I barely ever saw anyone new around these parts. All the same familiar faces, more or less.

"Lion!" the creature called, in her normally more pleasant voice. "Lion, come here!"

"Aw, shit… what'd I do this time?" he cursed. "Coming, Li!" he told his short wife, waving and taking off.

I decided I should take a little time off, wandering the opposite way, back toward where Shinzo's castle had been. Curiosity overwhelmed me for some odd reason, and I found myself helplessly wandering back to where I'd nearly met my demise for yet another instance.

Being a feline, I was bound by my wandering…

I came to the area where the elder had turned Kasumi against me. Tactless, instinctual bloodlust was all he had as an advantage against me in doing such… when emotion is much more powerful. She'd broken past the mind control when I'd told her in a subtle way how I felt; and I suppose it was proof… that she cared.

However, I could only be certain of one thing: she would never kill me if it was within her power to decide. Her feelings were another mystery… a shadow cast over me—the shadow of indecision. I could understand that she could never simply come out and tell me; but that was a matter of courage. I was reckless; not courageous… there is a difference. And that was what held me back…

As I wandered about in the shadows, I spotted the elder's corpse lying stilly longwise about the cold stone floor. I emitted a mocking chuckle at his state and thought a moment about how I could've been in his place. I was silenced only but a moment when I heard footsteps and a murmuring voice in the distance.

I backed into the shadows again, dubbed: 'The Phantom' by my peers in assassination for good reason. I watched the scene as a boy; whose facial structure seemed highly familiar, though his dirty blonde hair seemed nothing like what I'd seen before; entered.

A Nidorino tailed him, ears perked in case he should detect something. Of course, I was the only one there besides them; so what need he worry about unless he got on my nerves?

"Hey, Nido, come over here!" the boy exclaimed upon seeing Shinzo's lax form. "It's a dead Mewtwo… just like the one my cousin found."

"'Just like the one my cousin found'?" I mentally reiterated. "Just who is this clown?"

"Hey, you think I should try what she did and like… become an anthro, too?" he asked the pink Pokémon behind him.

He simply gave his trainer a strange look, perking his ears as I noticed my breathing becoming audible for once. I quickly dealt with that problem and continued to spy from the shadows.

He gave no answer to the boy, suspiciously scanning the shadows in hopes to detect what he'd heard. To no avail, however, as I was a master of backstabbing; needing to be able to hide myself completely… not to mention a Nidorino's poor sense of sight when it came to night vision.

He lowered his hands to the elder's tail and shoulder, beginning to murmur in a foreign tongue that even I didn't know. I can speak nine human languages fluently; as well as all Pokémon tongues; so it was rare that I couldn't understand someone.

As I tried to decipher this foreign language, it seemed that he was finished with his chanting and he lifted his hands, the corpse of the other disappearing in a flash of light.

"Witchcraft…" I muttered under my breath. "Though without such, I wouldn't be here, either…" I stopped a moment to consider that and glanced back to the boy, now looking over his hands. "He must be the same race as Kae…"

The Nidorino snapped his head back, growling in my direction and dragging his paw along the ground.

"What is it, Nido?" the boy inquired of his rabbit Pokémon.

He reared and began to challenge me in his own tongue. Barking insults such as 'coward' and 'scaredy-cat.'

Being a feline, I was highly offended…

"Oh, so I'm a cowardly cat, am I?" I asked of him, allowing a paw to emerge from the darkness. The white fur and weathered skin suggested no less than what I was, and I felt my taught muscles loosen as I shifted my weight from that foot. My steps were so evenly-weighted that even I couldn't hear them most of the time. Such is the sign of a good assassin. Techniques to hide breathing and other noise were learnable, and by a master; could be perfected.

He held his ground with a wavering confidence, watching hesitantly as I revealed more of my haggard form.

"I don't appreciate your profuse, incessant taunting." I ended in a hiss, stepping completely into the light. I would've said catcalling, but I abhor cat puns.

The small rabbit began to back away, and if it'd had a tail, I'm sure it would be respectfully tucked between the hind legs.

"Nido, what are you doing!? Horn Drill!" the trainer commanded.

"I'm afraid that would be impossible." I informed him. "As your Nidorino is officially scared shitless." Not to mention I'm an infinitely higher level than the pink rabbit… meaning the attack won't work.

The rabbit ducked back and curled into a non-threatening pose, shivering madly.

"Seeing as he knows what he's dealing with, I'll let him live…" I murmured. "Though as for you, I think you should leave; lest you wish to suffer said fate."

He jumped back, taking off immediately as he'd been told.

"Good." I told him, wandering out of the castle again. As I reached the outside and breathed in the clear air again, I began to think about how it felt to have someone listen for once. "Damn, it feels good to have an obedient listener for once in my life." I thought that over a moment, and emitted a dark chuckle. "Though it was merely out of fear that he chose to listen… damned humans."

I decided to wander aimlessly awhile and found myself in the outskirts of the city before I could decipher what direction I was heading. It seemed to be west, as I'd passed Kittomoto where I was born, and gone into the suburbs.

Walking about in broad daylight, I was more than suspicious; being who I was. If I'd wandered into the light by mistake, I could cause a disturbance… imagine that… just by showing my face. Even though I wasn't in a killing mood today; I would if I had to. It's not like some battalion of law enforcement was bound to stop me.

I glanced about—it seemed to be a quiet place. Though there was hardly anywhere that wasn't these days but for what was behind me. Peace and tranquility emitted from the scenery about me, and I felt more and more irritated being there. My blind eye proved more a nuisance than the normal lack of sight (not something that typically bothered me) as I trudged onward, glancing about and having to turn my head at every left.

One such instance, I felt the force of a cannonball ramming into my side and mowing me over. I leapt to my feet once more and looked about for the assaulter, eyeing a boy barely older than myself lying on the ground just to my blind side. I watched as he staggered to his feet, stumbling and glancing back. I could somehow notice that one side of his head was slightly flatter than the other, giving it a misshapen appearance. He blinked his eyes in misunderstanding, beginning to mutter an apology, when he seemed to have gotten his focus back and saw me staring down at him.

Immediately, his reaction turned from a humble "sorry" to a quivering silence; and his knees rattled violently as he only stared into my unforgiving gaze with his off-tan eyes. I did naught but offer a flat—emotionless-and-yet-with-one-brow-slightly-cocked-showing-that-I-meant-not-to-kill-him expression.

I held back the impulse to laugh. This guy was just staring back at me, as though I were the devil himself; even the Grim Reaper. Simply continuing to stare, I felt myself chuckling, slowly turning from a silent shaking to a full-fledged laugh. Even though I was in hysteria, the boy kept his distance and still shuddered violently. I barely had to breathe and he was incapable of rational thought. Jeez, I could say "boo" in the slouchiest voice I could manage and he'd probably have a heart attack.

"What's with you?" I questioned him calmly, prying a smirk from the corner of my mouth, "You look like you have reason for me to kill you."

"N-n-n-nothing, r-really." He muttered, calming only slightly. "J-j-just… w-well, w-what are you d-doing here?"

His stutter was growing slightly more stated, but he still watched me through glittering eyes. "I was just passing by when you rammed into me." I explained placidly, watching him through stately sight in my remaining eye and cursing the blind one.

"My God, I-I'm sorry…" he offered pleadingly. "Y-you're not m-m-mad, are you?"

I snorted, causing him to recoil and curl into a tiny ball. "Mad? No. Actually, I'll be fine. I was just wondering what you were running from…"

"Me?" he repeated, his stammer completely dissipating. "My dad invited Asuka's parents over again… and they brought her. She's a horrible excuse for a girl; that much I'm sure of… but mayhap you'd like to see for yourself?"

"If to judge a woman… to tell her what she really is." I shrugged calmly. "If you're really so sure I'm not going to turn on you." Turning my sights away upon the phrase, I chose a small patch of grass to focus on.

"I don't know…" he muttered, sitting straight and pausing, staring at my face, quietly sizing me up. "Now that I look at you… you really didn't want to hurt anyone in the first place, did you?" he questioned.

"Until people taunting me and treating me like a dog broke the final nerve? No." I replied; a truthful statement.

"Then I trust you." He offered quietly. "Boku no onamae wa Yamaru desu … and you're a wanted man that goes by several names… so I'm not sure what to call you."

"My personal favorite is Hellface… but none of them are my real name." I told him. "Phantom, Kenji, Akuji… they all only represent me." I weighed both sides, wondering whether I should tell him my name, until finally coming to a decision. "My name's Shiro."

"Shiro?" he repeated. "White?" he chuckled slightly. "I guess that makes sense."

"It means white?" I reiterated in question.

He shot me a look of query. "Oh… you're not native, are you?"

I snorted. "I don't know what I am… but actually; I've heard several meanings for my name… just not 'white.'"

"Oh… I see." He smirked. "I'm native. My dad's purely Japanese. Your name can mean one of four things: white, castle, fourth-born, or messenger of death." Slowly, he turned his head away. "I would expect the last one if I'd known that was your name. But Shiro is kind of cutesy for someone of your standing… don't you think?"

"Cutesy?" I batted back.

He shook his head. "Nevermind, just personal opinion. I think any male name with Shi in it is just kind of femmy."

"What if I were to say I thought the same about male names with 'maru' in them?" I inquired of him slyly.

"Then I'd have to say we're even, Shiro." He replied.

I laughed aloud, holding out a hand. "Then we're even, Yamaru."

He shook it, I could tell continually feeling sorry for my condition; as he was slightly repelled by my battered skin and rough hands. However, I'd extended my left hand, and he'd taken it with no problem. I often found it difficult to shake hands; being a lefty in a world of right-handed people… this was strange.

"You're left-handed?" I asked of him, taking back my hand.

"Ambidextrous." He replied. "You're the left-handed one, though."

"But of course." I told him, chuckling. "It makes me different."

"Have to agree with you." He admitted. "But I started out a righty." He told me, beginning to walk away.

"So, what is it about this dragon that's so bad?" I queried of Yamaru, referring to the girl he'd mentioned beforehand… Asuka, I think she was.

"See for yourself, and then you tell me" he muttered quietly. "I want a second opinion before I decide how bad she is."

"Alright." I replied, beginning to think about this; and God, he was something… going from scared shitless of me to so calm, in only minutes. I had to let my curiosity run. Was he a coward, like implied when we first met… or was there something behind it? How could he be so quick to trust… to forgive…? Because what I'd done was far from humane, and he didn't seem to mind for a second.

If only there were more people like him… I could get along with whoever, and they wouldn't care what I'd said or done or thought about.

As he lead me inside, I glanced around; seeing that it was a quaint place… quiet and humble, just like the scene around it. I noted that he kept glancing back at me and I had to think a moment, glancing away, before he stopped.

"I'm just now noticing this… but…" he looked down upon me, though we were both sitting. "How can something so small be so evil?" he asked with a chortle. "I mean, you looked so massive when I first ran into you… but maybe that's because I was scared and lying on the ground…"

I knew this question would arise sooner or later. "Big things come in small packages, my friend."

"Nice proverb," he complimented.

"I get by." I responded callously, waving a hand.

"Well, just wondering. You always seem so huge when they talk about how you killed millions of people at the slightest whim and such."

I shook my head. "I'm only as large as a German Shepherd, really. And a small one, at that." I offered as nonchalantly as possible. He began to lead me out again, and I saw an elder of sizeable status with a sharp face that seemed oddly familiar walking next to a younger male in a stately fashion, holding his head high.

"Hey, dad." Yamaru said half-heartedly, continuing on.

I chanced a glance between them; indeed, they did look alike, but the elder wore a steely glare and walked so proudly… I had to wonder why Yamaru was so humble.

"Private!" he barked in a hoarse voice, causing his boy to stop. "Who… who is that accompanying you?" he asked, a break in his powerful dialogue.

"This is Shiro, dad." He told his father calmly. "He's a friend."

I could tell he wasn't so sure, as he did a double-take and his eyes flashed when he stared at me. "Isn't… isn't he that… Kenji boy?" he inquired, beginning to repeat himself again.

"That's just a name, dad. He's Shiro, not Kenji or Hellface or Akuji, or even Phantom… just Shiro." Yamaru explained calmly.

"I can't believe you would let a killer into this house!" he exclaimed.

"He's harmless, dad." Yamaru batted his eyes. "Believe me."

The elder had nothing to say to that. He remained in silence as I simply sat, waving my tail calmly.

"Then I'm holding you responsible for him." The tall Mewtwo growled. "Dismissed!"

Yamaru sighed, walking away. "Yep… that's my dad."

I glanced upward, thinking about what Kae had once said… "You'd love mine…" Lion? Who doesn't adore the oaf? Well, me, for one… but he's not a bad guy… I don't exactly abhor his company.

"You have a father?" Yamaru questioned in disbelief. "Jeez, I would've thought you were an orphan… no offense."

"None taken. I would've thought the same." I glanced back. "I don't have a mother, though."

"Same." He offered.

"So you're a clone?" I inquired.

He shook his head. "She died when I was a year old." He admitted. "And ever since then, my dad's been horrible at dating."

I chuckled lightly. "Well, which is worse? Never having something or losing it at a young age?"

"Losing it." He told me quietly. "Because if you never had it in the first place… then you don't know what it's like to have it slip away from you."

"That was deep." I murmured.

"Oh… that's just me." he answered a bit nervously. "I'm the kid that gets beat up all the time because I'm a nerd and a poet."

"I'm just the loner." I told him.

"So why so easy to talk to?" he questioned wryly.

I smirked, remembering a line from one of Lion's animes, that "Hot Ice" Hilda had said herself. "Even a loner needs company sometimes…"

"You watch Outlaw Star?" he demanded.

"I try to catch it every time Lion's watching it." I admitted.

He smirked slyly. "Who's your favorite character?"

"Hilda."

He smirked. "I like Suzuka."

I had a deeper secret than that, however… and I liked Hilda better merely because she was a beautiful space pirate with dark hair and golden eyes, and her personality was something else. But he said Suzuka… so I had to wonder if he had a thing for killers. He certainly wasn't scared for long when he ran into me, and "Twilight" Suzuka was hardly an innocent.

"I like Hilda, too… but Suzuka's mine." He sneered. "But who's the prettiest?"

I chuckled, smiling. "No-brainer." I told him, feeling weak in the knees. "Aisha ClanClan."

"Melfina for me." he said quietly.

"But enough about Outlaw Star…" I let my voice trail off.

"Yeah, you're drooling."

I wiped away my mouth. "Shut up…"

He still laughed, heading for another door that lead into a backyard. "So you're all-for Aisha, huh?"

"Is there any doubt in your mind?" I questioned him.

He shook his head as he approached a girl by a tree, sitting alone and apparently daydreaming. "That's Asuka."

I sat and eyed her a moment; a typical pretty-girl, probably with no brains whatsoever. Odds are, she'd be blonde or at least have bleached her hair, so it would look blonde, and she adorned a pair of dark brown eyes. Now normally, I would've though that good-looking… no question about it… but there was something about this one that I didn't like. She possessed an aura that was more a dark pink than my black… not a match. Not to mention, there was an air of trouble about her.

The moment her dark eyes turned to me, I knew it for sure. "My God…" she gasped, orbs widening. "Did the Holy Battle strip you of your wings, angel?"

"Is that a pick-up line?" I questioned of her.

"Could be." She replied, leaning uncomfortably close to my face. "But then…" she began to circle me. "Are you deceiving me or are you really an angel?"

"Nay," I confirmed. "I'm afraid I'm nothing but a vagabond."

"Since when does a vagrant possess the features of a god?" she asked, causing me to recoil by leaning in again.

"Since when is a huge, upturned nose, high cheeks, narrow, mismatched eyes, a powerful brow, and stripes on a solid creature considered attractive?" I batted back, pointing out everything I hated about myself.

"Boy…" she cocked a brow condescendingly. "You don't get out much, do you?"

"Lived outside my whole life." I shot back at her.

"Hah! He's got a sense of humor, too." She smirked. "Rare to find all the best qualities on one man… usually they're gay."

I gave a dry shudder. "Well, I assure you, I'm not…"

"Very reassuring." She ended, letting her voice trail off.

"I'm sure." I replied.

Yamaru still sat just off to my side, and she finally took notice that he was there. "Oh, it's the freak again."

"Good day to you, too, Asuka." He jeered.

"What're you doing here, nerd?" she snapped.

He stared her down blankly. "I live here."

"Oh, right." She said lazily, waving a hand. "But what I really meant was 'what are you doing in the presence of sir Salvatore here?'"

She spoke Italian, calling me a savior… what a sad case this broad was.

"Because… Shiro is my friend." He growled.

"And Salvatore's my middle name." I told her.

"What a lucky guess." She ended, smiling hopefully and scoffing at Yamaru. "How could you possibly make friends? Especially with such a godly beauty as this one…"

"I guess you could say he ran into me on the way here." I joked, mainly to get a chuckle out of him, seeing as he knows of what I speak. "He's actually got a rather magnetic personality."

"Whatever you say." She offered quietly.

"And being a killer, I suppose that means my persona sucks, so hey, what the hell?" I asked callously, offering a shrug.

"You… are an assassin?" she questioned with much less confidence than before.

"The legendary Hellface, nonetheless." I told her. "I thought you would've noticed by now… everyone else seems to catch on pretty quickly."

She stared in awe, barely blinking. "I… I've seen the killer and lived…" she murmured.

"Hey, I don't go by that policy anymore." I reassured. "Now my motto is: 'Get on my nerves and I kill you.' I'm done with that whole killing on sight shit."

"How fortunate." She commented. "Because in the former days, I'm sure you might've taken the liberty of leaving me in my blood…" she trailed off. "But then again, that's a maybe, isn't it?"

I thought a moment. "Hmmm… nope, you'd be dead." I assured. "Sorry to bust your bubble."

"Not at all… I respect that."

Jeez, there's no repelling this girl, is there? "I see."

"Now you see what I mean?" Yamaru whispered.

"Yeah, I get you." I replied back, trying to avoid little miss fangirl's earshot. "She's really annoying, too… breaching my personal space bubble and all. Not to mention she keeps calling me divine when I don't even think I'm remotely less than ugly."

"Women…" he commented back, chuckling to himself.

"Hey, not all of them are bad." I shot back at him. "You just haven't met a decent one yet."

"I'll have to keep that in mind." He reassured, still looking at Asuka. "You know, she's not bad-looking… just has a horrible personality."

"Are you trying to suggest something?"

He shrugged. "Hey, your choice, pal."

I shook my head slowly, and all the while the girl had kept an eye on us. "What are the two of you talking about?"

"I… seem to recall an appointment, could I get back to you?" I asked her, without waiting for an answer, "thanks." I ended, taking off and signaling for Yamaru to follow. As soon as we were out of earshot, I spun on a dime and halted.

"Yeah? What's your deal?" he inquired calmly, offering a callous shrug.

"'My deal' is that she's a whore, man." I informed him. "And I'm already interested in a girl, so she can forget me."

"Oh, so you've got a girlfriend, I get it." He nodded understandingly while saying.

"Actually… no." I admitted quietly. "I… I like a girl, but I don't know how she feels about me…"

"I know the feeling." He murmured.

"And you're the only one I can talk to without starting a riot." I explained in a subtle melancholy; the norm for one such as myself.

"Happy to say that I can't admit to such." He muttered.

"Well, alright, since I probably couldn't speak to her personally; being that she has her own life and all; would you like to see what kind of beauty I'm talking about?" I suggested of him.

"Alright, I'll humor you." He replied. "But this'd better be good… I mean, with your taste in anime chicks; I'd be real disappointed if she wasn't gorgeous."

"Between her and Aisha; it's a dead tie." I told him. "Mainly because Kasumi doesn't have the dark eyes that I like."

"Uh huh…" he said quietly, though I think he was just being a smartass and didn't get my specific likings.

I shook my head briefly, heading back into the woods area around Kae's house; searching high and low for the Arc I'd come to adore. To no avail thus far, I continued to search; and Yamaru decided to quiz,

"I assume you're still looking; but what's she like, in case I see her first?" he inquired innocently.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, orange with black stripes." I explained. "About six-three, slight muscular definition."

He gave me a strange look, turning his head on an angle and cocking a brow quizzically. "Orange… with black stripes?"

I chuckled to myself. "Oh, I guess I forgot to mention… she's an Arcanine."

"A-Arcanine?" he reiterated.

I nodded. "Have a problem with them or something?"

"It's just… at school, I'm always getting beaten up by an Arcanine and a Houndoom." He explained. "They hate me."

My expression narrowed subtly at such injustice, because not only was it simply the way of nature picking on the weaker of the combatants between dog and cat, but I know how it is… being put-down by the hounds simply because I was a feline. "Where do they live?"

The look of fright about his face was somewhat amusing as he shook his head feverishly. "I don't know, but you don't have to kill them…"

I snorted. "Alright, I won't kill them if you don't want me to… but they will know the meaning of vengeance when I'm through with them."

"A-alright…" he stuttered. "But you… you really don't have to do this… I don't know why I even brought it up."

I slapped him across the face lightly and stared him down. "Dude, I'm your friend… while this is still in effect, you will never be bothered, teased, or beaten-up by anyone everagain." I assured. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

He looked back at me, as though I had just offered him his one and only wont. "Shiro?" he questioned weakly.

I turned back without a word.

"You're a saint." He ended gratefully, bowing his head.

I smirked. "I'm no saint…" I corrected. "I'm just the rhetorical devil… but instead of a price, I'm just your friend."

"I'm glad." He chuckled darkly. "Because if I would've had to make a deal, I'm sure you would've asked for a greater price than el Diablo himself."

"El Diablo?" I repeated. "You're Spanish?"

"Half-Spaniard." He replied. "On my mother's side."

"That's interesting." I told him, offering a slight chortle as I got to my feet once again and made off for where Kasumi was supposed to be. "Are you good at telling races, or am I just assuming?"

"Pretty good, why?" he returned, following me and easily matching my short stride.

"Could you tell what I am?" I inquired of him, glancing back.

"You have a human form I could see?" he questioned.

I stoutly nodded, rising to my hind legs and awaiting the transformation of the human I saw as myself; my arms and legs losing mass and length, spacing slightly closer together as my Mewtwoan hips narrowed to that of a male human. My torso reformed to a narrow waist and a broader chest, shoulders remaining their width apart and gaining muscle connecting to the neck. My chin sprouted black hairs and my entire face melded inward, a mane of long ebon locks erupting from my head. My brows formed more prominently and also adorned wiry black hairs, my muzzle splitting into an upturned nose and thin pair of lips hiding dagger fangs. Being that I was clothed before, I turned out the same way this time, a band about my neck and left wrist, an earring in my left ear.

"Huh," he muttered, "so that's you as a human, eh?" he questioned. "I must say…" he glanced away. "You grew down."

"Humph."

He laughed at me, beginning to look the part of a human as well. Soon enough, a tall boy with dark brown hair about to ear-length on a normal man walked just to my side. His face was soft and somewhat round; girlish like Lion's, but with darker features. His eyes seemed unfocused, as though he could barely see, and his limbs and torso were skinny enough that it looked like he was anorexic. Sticking one bony hand into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of thick, black, square-rimmed glasses and put them on, blinking and adjusting to the sight.

"So, you're visually impaired, eh Yamaru?" I inquired of him wryly, remembering that I was half-blind myself. However, the sight left in my remaining eye was as sharp as a hawk's or better, so it made up for what was lost.

"Quite." He replied. "To an extreme extent, if you will… can't even see solid shapes without these…" he tapped his eyewear unenthusiastically.

"Well, I'm blind in this eye," I told him, pointing to the left one. "Because of a fight I got in when I was young."

"You certainly have a history, don't you?" he said quietly. "With you, it's always a fight you got in or a person you killed… a story behind every scar, while I'm just a nobody… born with it or some such thing, instead of gaining it through conquest."

"Hey, be happy, bitch." I barked back. "I'm little Mr. Vertically-Challenged, Scar-butt, Mooneye…" I ended quietly. "I'm four-foot-fuckin'-eleven! Meanwhile, you're what, five-eight?"

"Five-ten." He answered.

"Point proven." I told him in a mutter. "So, what do I look like? Some European ethnicity is all I know."

"French, German, Irish… Actually, you look German, except for the hair. Your dark hair makes you look French." He told me.

"I hate the French." I assured him. "I'll be damned if I'm any part Frenchman."

He laughed aloud. "Wow, you're headstrong." He told me, glancing down at the top of my head. "Your roots are light, though… not black at all. Some kind of yellow or orange…"

"Meanwhile, you look Japanese except for the lack of narrow eyes. You have the basics of an oriental, but you definitely do look the part of a Spaniard as well." I told him. "I'd have to say I'm pretty good at the same thing."

"So what about your Kasumi?" he queried. "What is she?"

"Blonde, like a German, but with a bit of an oriental build…" I admitted. "She's more beauteous than many women you'll ever see, that much I know for sure."

"She'd better be." He snapped. "With how you keep carrying on, especially."

I lead him onward, still ever-searching, but finding no trace of her blonde locks or watery straw-colored tail. No flash of orange fur, nor empty stripe of ebony. Not a skirt of lavender nor shirt of jade, combat boots of jet black reaching her slender knees. Stopping at the edge of the forest and thinking a moment, I halted him with a hand. "I think she may be at a rave… typical hangout for her." I assured him. "Likely, we'll see her there."

"Whatever you say, man. I'm tired of traveling." He muttered.

I lead him to the spot where we'd met from time to time, entering the building and telling the bouncer how I'd been recommended here before, and knew Kasumi and Lion. He glanced to Yamaru without a word and nodded, allowing us passage.

"Man, that dude's creepy." He commented after we entered.

"Yeah, but he's good friends with Lion… my supposed dad." I explained.

He cocked a brow. "Eh… I see."

I scanned the bar quickly, noting Lion's presence and pointing him out to Yamaru before looking to the dance floor; the spot I'd seen her when first we met here…

"Shiro-kun!!!" a highly familiar voice called out, and I felt completely alone until I was tackled from behind and fell to the floor. "How've you been?"

"Hello, Kasumi…" I mumbled. "Could you please get off?"

"Oh, sure." She responded, standing to her feet and allowing me room to stand. "Wait… whozat?" she asked, looking directly to Yamaru and tilting her head, blonde locks falling to one side.

"A new friend of mine." I told her.

"Oh… well just as long as he's not another stalker…" she told me with a sigh. "I get enough of that as is."

"I know what you mean." I assured her. "But no… just some kid I met on the street."

"Even though he's older than you." She commented.

"Older?" I inquired.

She nodded. "At least he looks that way… wait… you're how old?"

"Seventeen."

She blinked in slight surprise. "You're seventeen?"

I nodded to assure her of my answer. "Yeah… what, you're really that old?"

She blushed heavily. "I'm older… umm, older than you…"

"Well, how old? I mean, you can't be over twenty-four, can you?" I asked her.

She chuckled. "You flatter me…" she sneered. "It's rude to ask a woman her age."

I gave her a strange look, shrugging. "I told you how old I am… what's the problem with telling me?"

"It's a disrespect for a woman to tell her age to a man!" she protested. "You're not old enough to know that yet…"

"Oh, what, so now I'm a boy!?" I demanded of her.

"I'm thirty-two!" she hissed.

Thirty-two??? She's got to be joking! "You don't look a day over twenty!"

"Like I said; you're flattering… but you're still just a boy." She ended darkly.

I couldn't begin to fathom what she was saying… she was telling me off; scolding me because I was young… though she was fifteen years older than me, if what she was saying was truth. Old enough to be my mother… and I… I was… just a boy.

I had to leave… there was no arguing. I looked back to Yamaru, speaking in person to my father, and pulled him aside as he hurriedly said his final farewells. I dragged him out by the collar and sat beneath the window in a dark and sullen alleyway.

"What's the big deal, man?" he questioned, seeing me crouched over, head buried in my hands, fingers knitted between my locks of hair.

"I'm completely out of my league…" I admitted to him, my dark voice breaking to a new octave and causing me more loathing toward it than usual.

He glanced back in through the window and searched about for her, starting at the sight and pressing his glasses farther up his nose as they slid off. He shot his gaze back to me, then to her again. "What makes you say that? Sure, she's amazing… but you're not so bad yourself."

"It's not looks!" I corrected him. "She still thinks I'm a boy!"

He glanced back and forth. "She can't be over twenty-three, man… and how old are you? You look about sixteen."

"I'm seventeen… and she's thirty-two."

He stumbled and fell back. "You're kidding…"

"I fucking wish I was!" I countered. "But she's almost twice my age!"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't know just what you were thinking about when you picked her, but hey…" he sat to my right. "You're just going to have to show her that you're not a boy. Because when I saw you for the first time, your legend got me thinking that you were at least her age. Then I find out you're younger than me, and my whole thought process turned upside-down!"

"Oh, so I'm the little one, huh?" I questioned.

"I'm eighteen, dude." He assured. "So yeah, you're like the little brother."

I shook my head, sighing. "I feel like I'm the youngest bastard in my whole fucking generation…"

"But you're also the most famous." He pointed out. "The foulest scallywag to crawl from the pits of Hell and wreak havoc and fear into the hearts of the millions."

"Boy, you've done your research." I jeered back at him.

He chuckled. "Call me a fan."

I sighed. "Still… what does it matter if I can't be anything to her?"

"Maybe she knows what you've accomplished—it's a rare person who doesn't—but it could be that she's only taking into account how much difference there is in your age." He suggested. "You should prove to her that your mentality is far beyond that of your age group. Prove that you're much more than just a boy."

"You're a sage." I complimented. "Though that's probably just your poetic nature speaking, eh?"

He nodded. "Chicks love poetry, so far as I know. But since all of them avoid me, it's hard to even talk to them, let alone find out."

"Why do they avoid you?"

He shot me a flat expression. "What, the nerd-o-meter hasn't spun out of control to you?"

I shook my head. "Nope, not that I can think of."

He sighed. "Well, you're one in a million, buddy. Asuka went around school for years telling people to avoid me."

"So you don't have any friends?"

"Besides you?" he quizzed. "No, not really."

I glanced aside, chuckling. "Well, being a vicious, bloodthirsty manslayer, I don't happen to have too many friends, myself." I brushed back my short bangs only to have them fall back into place. "They always think I'm going to turn on them… betray them some way, somehow."

"Harsh." He commented darkly.

"Yeah, especially when I was younger… at the age of three, you don't tend to take those things lightly."

"When it's all your life, though…"

"It's even worse than just at a young age."

"You feel as though"

"you're never going to break free of the spiral." I ended, looking back and just now noticing how we'd barely known each other a few hours and we already finished each other's sentences. "You know the feeling, eh?"

"Apparently, so do you." He commented.

"We're like kindred spirits, man." I told him, finally gathering the strength to stand; using the wall as my support. "I think we were supposed to meet like today… y'know, the whole destiny, hands of fate kind of deal."

He nodded, stretching as he rose to a mile above my head. "I guess so, seeing as neither of us have any friends in the first place. It's like the gods' little game of cards."

"Let's ditch this place…" I suggested. "I need to get away from the city…"

He glanced to the sky, his glasses glinting orange, and looked back to me. "Actually… I should probably get home. If I know my dad, he'll think I'm dead ten times before hitting the ground in your company."

I tipped my head in a nod. "Understandable. It's a rare person that trusts me, and an even rarer one that feels secure in my presence."

"Then I guess I'm one in a million, because it's like I've known you all my life… you seem like an estranged little brother, if it weren't for our almost opposite bloodlines… and hey, I'm not short or fierce or even handsome… take pride in that." He saluted me and turned away. "See ya'… maybe tomorrow."

"Auf wiedersein." I waved him off, turning away and stuffing my fists into my pockets, slouching profusely and walking out of the city that caused me so much anguish.

Just thinking to myself, I strayed across a strange thought. Gee, if I was gay, all my troubles would be over. Scoffing and laughing away that absurd notion, I continued, dragging on my stagnant steps and languished efforts. I swore to myself long ago that I would never try to change… that I wouldn't turn a one-eighty anytime soon. Slowly but surely I was abiding that vow, and subtly, my ways were becoming different… I was a little looser. A little less set in my ways…

"It's only temporary." I assured myself. "Tomorrow everything will be different… I'll be back to my stubborn, hard-ass ways. I don't sway for long, and today I'm in somewhat of a good mood… by tomorrow, it'll hit me like a brick how stupid I was to let up, and I'll revert to the way I was. My faithful, one-track defiance and star-crossed love for Kasumi will return full-force… I can remember how it felt to be confident… in what I do……"

I let out a sigh of torment and brushed back my bangs again, only to have them fall into place as usual. But… it wasn't the same… these weren't my bangs… they were the lengthened hairs of a human. These hands, with five digits… they were human… these scrawny limbs and separation of muscle control were all human… normally I spat upon mankind, but in my out-of-mind state, I felt almost comfortable with this anatomy—it was no doubt similar to my own. I was distant… I barely knew what I was talking about… but I wanted to be a man, rather than a white feline.

Though being in this state meant that I was no longer a part of nature, and now was a product of this kind. I couldn't sleep in a tree without being called peculiar. I couldn't groom myself or preen my fur without receiving strange looks. I now had a head of excessively long fur that was rough and wiry in comparison to my real pelt. I had a nose rather than nostrils and it faced about the same angle, but was separate from my mouth. Rather than internal sex organs… well, I think you would know. I now possessed collections of fat on my chest that would be mammary glands on a female. My shoulders were heavily accented and connected to a brawny neck that held my head upright. I no longer possessed the plate about my collar, nor the vital artery that fed my brain. I had to wear clothes about my form or be arrested for 'indecent exposure.'

I suppose it was better than living my life on edge, narrowly escaping the clutches of the long arm of the law and being watched-for by the masses because I'd lost my temper and killed a few of them. A few hundred-thousand, that is.

Averting my sights to the sky, I took notice of how dark it really was. "Must be around midnight I told myself, blinking lazily and returning to the front. As soon as I strayed even ten feet away from the city, I found myself looking at a fat man in a blue uniform. As I turned my eyes reluctantly upward, I glanced to the man's face and saw that he was wearing a blue cap to match his uniform. Sheizer! It's a cop! I cursed to myself, knowing nine languages and having the capacity to often cuss in German.

"Hey, kid, do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"Who're you calling a kid?" I hissed back.

"Well, I don't see anyone else here, so I guess that'd be you. How old are you, boy?" he inquired, showing a similar smartass attitude to mine.

"Seventeen." I told him, attempting to make my way out of the area.

"Wow, get back here!" he called, stepping in front of me. "You're in violation of the curfew, boy. You're going to have to come with me."

"Screw that!" I spat at him, turning and running off as he attempted to subdue me.

"Hey! Get back here!" he shouted after me, talking quietly into his intercom as I ran.

"Jeez, yet another run-in with the cops…" I commented to myself as I kept up my pace. "When will it end??"

I turned forth again, finding myself engulfed in glass, steel, and concrete. I'd run for the city instead of the woods! Goddamnit! Ah well… I knew my way around here… I'd killed just about everyone in every building here before, not to mention lived my childhood in this pit of hell that people dared call civilization…

I slowed to a walk and crept along the streets, my every memory flooding back to me as I felt a gripping heartache from the pit of my being and longed to be somewhere else…

The night was once my enemy. I was most vulnerable at night because I had to stay awake… I had to avoid being captured by anyone or anything, lest history should repeat itself…

It'd been four years since the worst day of my life, and I could point out and identify the very spot where I'd lost almost everything… a wavering will to live was all I left with.

Now the night was my ally, hiding me within the shadows that kept my pale form unnoticed while I did my heinous deeds. It was my veil of anonymity when I killed, my shade of black in counter to my white… but this time, it brought back iniquitous memories and reminded me of what my life was, and what it was becoming again…

"Hey you!" I heard a familiar voice shout, as the policeman had finally caught up to me and was running his fat ass off.

I shook my head condescendingly. "He'll never catch me." I thought aloud as I broke into another dash, leaving the corpulent officer in my dust.

I'd lost him by a mile once I turned my head back, but I skidded to a halt as soon as I'd seen another in front of me and veered left. I kept up a grueling pace for my short body and made for the woods. "Damn! It was an ambush…" I figured to myself, dodging trees as I ran through the woods.

"And so was this!" a different voice shouted, causing me to snap my head back just in time to ram into a third cop that was strategically placed to catch me.

I staggered back and landed on my hindquarters, hurriedly leaping to my feet and picking up speed as I was tackled to the earth. Only this time, it wasn't the familiar lightweight hound that would simply move away at my whim… this time I was down for good…

"Get off me, you hog!" I barked at the cop as he held me to the ground with a foot and I struggled to squirm away as cold metal bound my hands together and restrained use of my otherwise weak arms. I felt him take hold of my tail and pull me to my feet by the collar, my form being small enough that he was able to do so. I was four-eleven and a hundred-fifteen pounds at barely a few months past seventeen…

"You're under arrest for violation of curfew and evasion of the law, son. You have the right to remain silent." He snapped.

"I said let off, you disgusting pig! I'll make bacon out of you if you even touch me again!" I roared back, lashing out with my legs and struggling with everything I had.

"And if you don't sit down and shut up, I'll take you in on charges of assaulting and harassing an officer!" he growled, forcing me into a headlock and wrenching my head upward.

I still kicked backward, biting into his arm and clenching my fangs together with all the strength in my feeble jaw.

"This one's a fighter!" he grunted into his intercom. "I'm going to need backup!"

I began to wrench free as he kindled his arm, and broke out of his hold as more of the pigs showed up and surrounded me. I attempted to break their wall by charging through them, but one wrenched me back by the tail and several of them sprayed me with mace.

It was worse than a fiery infernos, but I wasn't about to give up. I pulled my tail in, knocking over the cop that held it, pried my burning eyes open and attempted to straighten my blurry vision as I drew breath through my blazing nostrils. I took off blindly, not getting far before two policemen took a rough hold on my shoulders and as I was lifted from the ground, a third pinned my legs and tail.

Still I resisted, wrenching my torso about to attempt escape once more. Hopeless though it was, an attempt I did make… because I never give in without a fight… I felt a sharp pain in my head and fell limp, barely aware of what'd happened.

"Never in all my days have I seen a juvenile put up such a struggle…" one policeman muttered as I felt dully aware of anything and shook my head gently, recovering from the mace's spray and finding myself being dragged into a station.

"A remarkable child… it's unfortunate he had to be a law-dodger." Another commented.

"I think I might need to go to a hospital…" the cop I bit added from behind.

"Go ahead, we'll lock him up and send him to juvenile prison." The final cop told him, looking down and glaring at me. "You're going to be put away, kid… there's no place for hoodlums like you except where you're headed. Maybe you'll learn to abide the law."

I snapped at him, hissing and bearing my fangs.

"He's still got some fight left in him. You'd better keep this one restrained." The injured cop snarled. "I'll see to it that you never get out of this until you're better educated, brat."

As he exited the room, I smiled and mustered up some breath, calling out, "Sueey!!!"

"Lock him up!" the man demanded, storming out of the building. "Better not have given me rabies…"

Another officer approached the three that were holding me, as I laughed away the fourth. "Wow, this one's been through the mill… what are the charges?"

"Violation of curfew, evading the law, assault and harassment of an officer." The fat one explained.

"Hah!" I barked. "I've done much more than that, my podgy persecutor."

"You're saying you're a repeat offender?" one asked.

I snorted. "I've done things you could've never imagined capable by someone my age."

"Oh? Well, why don't you lay a few of those offenses down on us?" the third sneered almost superiorly.

"Why, when you already know my crimes?" I questioned, slowly morphing back into a Mewtwo. As soon as I grew to six-foot, they were long-since wetting themselves and tripping over one another to escape. "'Tis a rare person that doesn't…"

"It's Hellface!" someone yelled.

"Arm yourselves!" a cop commanded, and I saw gun barrels pointed at me as I stood there. "We've got an A-1 class murderer here!"

"Now," I began, causing them all to jump. "I suggest you lower your weapons… because I'm not in the mood to kill right now, and I would hate to waste your lives when there need not be any bloodshed."

Shakily, they held their ground.

"Look, if you just let me go, I won't lift a finger against you… resist me and I'll slaughter you all without a moment's thought." I warned them. Just to make sure they knew what I was talking about, I pulled and snapped apart the handcuffs, letting them dangle like odd bracelets from my emaciated wrists. "Oh, and by the way, I don't like mace sprayed in my fucking face!" I ended in a forceful bark as I began to walk slowly out. "You ever do that again and I'll be sure that every one of you goes down in a pool of blood, be it yours or someone else's."

As I left, they all froze, and I slammed the door shut behind me, leaping and climbing atop the building, traveling by rooftop. I sat atop one and felt my head that still throbbed uncomfortably. A section of the top of my cranium was swollen and felt like a bee sting when I tapped it. "The bastards blackjacked me!" I cursed, growling fiercely and returning to my travel, making my way back into the forest again.

I made my way through the trees as I had through the city, thinking to myself and coming to a conclusion. Spitting a laugh, I remembered that Yamaru left before sundown… he knew about this curfew that'd caused me so much trouble, and gotten the bloody hell out of there while the getting was good. I came to a stop in a tree near one edge of the woods. The scene was near a graveyard, and it seemed to spark some hidden feeling in the numb, cavernous emptiness that was my dulled emotion. Awake I lay into the late hours of the night, thinking of what I'd done over the years and how I felt nothing… how I was just a shell; a worthless pile of flesh and bones. I barely exhumed any emotion whatsoever… all my life, it was how I was. If I had… I would've turned up crazy and been locked away long ago…

Because I was so hollow… because I never hesitated; from the first person I ever killed to any crime I'd ever committed, I always charged headlong into things without a moment's hesitation. I never stopped to consider anything… never asked why or what I was doing. I was far from insane, I knew that for sure… I didn't obsess over who or what I was going to kill next. I didn't have strange visions or nightmares… those were all real. I knew perfectly well that I was taking a person's life… and I had no problem with it. All of that was too trivial. Too simple an answer…

I don't remember too much after that… waking with a splitting shard of pain from the back of my head, I realized that I must've thought myself to sleep. I stirred with a view of the graveyard from the night before, and looking upon it, I remembered that I'd strayed away from what I knew and come to rest here… in my callous survey of the surroundings, I climbed from the tree, realizing that I had stubby fingers, frail arms, and fragile legs… I'd changed into a human in my sleep… some subconscious thought returned me to this form… but why?

I approached the yard of the dead, tombstones reflecting from the innards of my eyes, casting an ominous sense of foreboding about the place, knowing that creatures no longer living were embedded in the soil and decaying as I thought about it.

I took another surveying glance about the entire scene and noted the presence of a young boy, weeping over some loss before two gravestones and choking, trying to suck it up as I approached.

"What's with you?" I questioned insensitively, hands in the confines of my pockets and tail held neutrally.

He looked back at me, trying to be serious before he turned back to the grave. He was probably ten or eleven years old, brownish hair and crimson eyes. Strange, how I didn't recognize his species, but he was no normal human. Two names read on two gravestones, both bearing the same last name. He cried pitifully and whimpered. "He did it…" he sobbed.

"Who did what?" I inquired, still standing.

"Hellface! Hellface took my mom and dad from me!" he cried out, sobbing harder than before.

So, I did this? I asked myself, glancing over the cold stone and empty words etched into their unfeeling flesh. Strange…… how I feel no remorse. I watched, unfazed by the words, by the prospect that I'd made this kid an orphan and I didn't care…

In fact, at the thought, I began to laugh. "Hah!" I barked at him, glancing away and to the ground. "That bastard took a hell of a lot more from me, kid." I muttered, ending quietly on a downnote. I turned away as he looked desperately up at me and walked off, thinking about that and shaking my head slowly. "A hell of a lot more."

"W-wait, sir!" he called.

Hah! Sir. "What do you want, kid?" I asked of him.

"What exactly did he take from you?" he asked quietly, in an almost dusty voice.

"Everything." I responded darkly. "My hope, my heart, my will… my solace, my confidence, my audacity…" I told him. "Anything and everything I ever had are lost to that man… that name… that entity." Because that was who I was…

"Oh…" he replied, losing the pace he'd kept up with me for my little speech. "Well, I'm sorry… he's been a terror to everyone."

"You have no idea." I assured him. You have no idea because no one does… no one but me… "I have a feeling it'll all end soon, though." I've grown tired of this life… I need an escape.

"How are you so sure?" he asked innocently.

"Because I know the very thing that keeps this city awake at night. I've been in contact with your worst nightmare before… I know, better than anyone, the terror that has wrought fear into the heart and soul of the bravest men and brought them to their knees, pleading for another end. I am one with that nightmare."

The kid wasn't smart enough to figure out what I'd meant. I'd admitted to any person with a working mind that I was the one who'd killed everyone… but my string of rarely-noted words and poetic stanza had thrown the child off, like a dog following a stick. I made my way away; not one to enjoy the presence of young children or teenagers, even though I was one myself. I wanted to shoo the child away and let him be to wallow in sorrow once more, or whatever it was he was doing… whatever the case, I basically wished him to leave.

However, as I moved on, I still sensed his presence. I glanced back, my cold and unforgiving gaze casting him farther away as he recoiled, staring back at me with glittering redden eyes full of tentative depression. "What?" I asked him in more of a bark than I'd intended.

"I guess I really don't have it so bad, do I?" he asked.

I replied with a scoff. "You have misfortune to a slight extent… you've just never talked to the Shiro Sasaki of your day." Using my name as a metaphor to represent the guy with the worst luck in the world… I'm being way too melodramatic. "I've got somewhere I have to be…" I lied to the child, to hopefully ditch him.

"Bye, then…" he muttered, returning to the graveyard.

"Jesus! I thought I'd never lose that pathetic pre-teen…" I snarled as soon as he was out of earshot. "I hate kids…"

And yet, I like them before they're able to talk… because when they learn to talk, they learn to badmouth and backtalk. I allowed a trace of a sigh to escape my throat, shaking my head. "Like I'm ever going to actually settle down. I hate children, I'm not the fondest of women in the first place… but Kasumi's an exception. And well, I could just never see myself with descendants… I'm a killer… a murderer in cold blood that never has a target farther away than arm's reach. It's not like some broad off the streets or even one who's half-decent or likeable would ever want to bear my children… spawn of hell itself, they'd be." Again, I strayed to Kasumi and wondered, daydreaming as I walked and thinking of her as usual. What end did I have with her, if any? Because that was the path I wanted to take.

"Who am I kidding?" I demanded of myself, shaking my head and allowing my dark hair to dangle before me. "I don't have a future with her. All I see is a few good years and an argument to end it all." It's happened before… it's bound to happen again. "But I still love her…"

Sighing hopelessly, I wandered onward. No particular end came to mind for me, but all I knew was that I didn't want it to be a monotonous loneliness searching for an answer or a way out… I didn't want to think about how I could do everyone a favor and just end it all, by knife, by sword, by starvation… all of them sounded okay right about now. Only three or four people would even miss me… it's not like I have any better end…

Except for one factor that was keeping me alive… I didn't want to die. I wasn't suicidal on a normal basis… so why was I even thinking about it? Never before have I turned to such an answer or even attempted such an idiotic act. I lived on because I didn't feel like giving up… no matter how difficult life became, I could deal with it.

"That's why I'm still here." I told myself, finding myself walking back into town and wandering back to the rave to see if I could talk to Kasumi…

I took a seat near the front of the bar, glancing about and finding that my relation had returned home and Kasumi was gone. I didn't feel like leaving, however, and didn't care to get up out of my seat.

A presence nearby revealed itself mysteriously for but a moment. I glanced toward it as the femme came closer, blonde bangs of almost silverish hue contrasting the major part of it, a pitch black tinge of almost unnatural coloration separating the two tones with a star-studded headband. This girl bore a pair of grayish eyes, almost silver in hue surrounded by a black outline… she reminded me so much of Shadow it wasn't funny. Her build was slight and slender, revealed on purpose by a skimpy lavender top meant to hang off the shoulders and a low-riding pair of black jeans. A small mole beneath her right eye was noticeable, though I would've thought she would cover it, seeing as chicks are perfectionists like that. No doubt she was pretty, but I guess I didn't care, because I was already in heartache and wasn't in the mood to goggle. Like myself, Mewtwoan fur, tail, and ears were her décor, and she waved her tail subtly, sitting next to me.

"Why the long face, handsome?" she inquired sweetly in a dark, drawling voice that almost sounded like Hilda's.

"Eh." I replied quietly.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, more caringly than I would've thought her character, from the way she looked.

"A girl I like thinks I'm too young for her." I answered in a murmur.

"Oh?" she responded. "Well, who is she? I might know her."

"What, you a regular?" I sneered.

She laughed aloud. "You could say something like that… of course, I see a lot of relationships go bad because of a ridiculous little thing like age difference."

"Seen it all, have you?"

She smiled wryly. "Well, I get alot of it from my clients. They like to talk to me because I guess I'm a good person to confide in."

"Her name's Kasumi. She's an Arcanine who comes here often."

"Oh, you mean the sweetheart with the combat boots?" she asked, smirking. "Yeah, I know her." Her face darkened. "Well, about how old are you, anyway?"

"Just over seventeen."

"Hey, me too." She commented. "But I see why she'd say you're a little young. It's so obvious that she's over thirty, with a figure like that."

"How is it women always know each other's age?" I asked. "I thought she was twenty-four."

"When you know, you know. Girls just can kind of tell these things because they know their own anatomy." She explained. "But she's really pretty for someone her age… I could understand why you'd think her younger."

"Huh…" I muttered, fiddling with my spiked bracelet.

"Actually…" she began, looking at me closer. "I think I've seen you around here before. The two of you danced here one day, didn't you?"

I nodded. "You were here?"

"For awhile, yeah. That is, until I found a buyer." She shrugged. "I saw you guys when 'Disease' was playing. Good song, love the band… I thought you looked really happy until someone else asked her to dance."

"I was." I answered her. "And you keep talking about clients… what's your job?"

"Well," she said with a sigh. "I'm a whore." She ended quietly. "The money's good, but the job could be better."

"Oh." I added in a murmur. "Well, I guess you could get by with it, looking like you do."

"Ah, thank science and technology for that… I'm a clone of a very pretty man." She said with a chuckle.

"Interesting." I told her.

"Actually, you remind me of him… even though I barely have any memory." She told me. "Funny."

I offered a dispirited chortle. "I'm a clone, too, come to think." I admitted. "Do you remember your number?"

"I think it was 2643891482509." She recited. I'd followed her exactly up until the last two numbers.

"Strange…" I replied, giving her a whimsical look. "I'm 2643891482510."

"Hey! You're the clone right after me!" she noted gleefully, extending a hand. "This is amazing! I thought I'd never meet another clone so close to me!"

"I'm Shiro, as of the time after I escaped." I introduced.

"I know! I read all about you!" she exclaimed. "I'm Yayoi."

"Well, nice meeting another clone at all, Yayoi." I told her. "Gee, I thought I was more alone than this…" Again, I was startled; having a left-handed shaker.

"No, not at all! We're practically kin, you and I." she told me, smiling brightly.

"Glad to hear." I agreed, noticing a man approaching and looking us over.

"You lookin' at him or are we still at a deal?" he asked in a New Yorkan dialect, addressing Yayoi.

She shook her head. "No, he's just a friend." She answered.

"Good… I'll be back at nine." He told her, beginning to walk away.

She turned back around and gagged. "Some of them are pretty good-looking, but then you get guys like him that look like ass!" she hissed.

"Well, I would imagine you'd have to get the ugly bastards as well… I mean, with your job." I offered quietly.

"I want to turn them away… but this is my only source of income until I can get a real career." She answered. "It's an endless cycle of proverbial suckiness."

"I could only imagine." I told her. "Never got into it because of a bad experience as a child…"

"Yeah, that'll kill all desire whatsoever." She said back, as I realized I was saying an awful lot.

I glanced away, trying to still my shuddering hands and leaning against the marble top.

"What's wrong? You're shaking." She commented.

"I know." I answered, trying not to think about it. "It's nothing…"

She glanced away hesitantly, I'm pretty sure not believing my reply, but she kept to herself. "Well, I guess I could say I didn't quite have the same childhood, so I guess I was coaxed into it."

"Sad, though… you could do a lot more than just what you are. You're a good person." I assured her.

"Well, thanks. But like I said, I've applied and been turned-away… I really don't think I could get a job without a college degree…" she said disdainfully.

"Society…" I spat. "That's kind of why I'm a renegade."

"Must be nice, to not have to worry about trivial matters like money."

I chuckled. "For awhile… two weeks, at most. Then it just kind of becomes boring."

She snickered. "You're funny. I think you'd make a great person if you stay like this… instead of all the killings you've done."

"You know about that?" I queried.

"What bloody moron doesn't?" she smirked. "I mean, you are the legendary Hellface, are you not?"

"I wish I could tell you different."

"Well, you don't seem like such a little leech to me. I mean, I suppose it was all for a reason… seeing as you are the way you are." She offered.

"You have no idea." I replied.

"Oh, but I have an idea… just not a lead." She hinted.

"This is hardly the place to speak of this." I warned her. "If someone were to overhear us, I'd be in a load of shit."

"Oh, yeah… hmmm." She glanced away with her abnormally lax eyes, lazily left half-open, but nearly as focused as my right eye. "I see no one of the particularly suspicious type about… I guess we can save this for another time."

I offered a nod. "Besides, I still have to talk to Kasumi…" I assured Yayoi, sliding off my seat and falling the few inches of space between myself and the floor. As she got to her own feet, she naturally reached a good foot or so taller than me.

"Wow, you're umm…" she trailed off. "Small…"

"Yeah, I know." I murmured.

"Well, what happened to you? Born that way, didn't eat well, scientists put an improper balance of calcium in your mix?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. My relatives are all so tall…"

"Maybe you're just the runt, sweetie. There's nothing wrong with a little guy." She reassured. "In fact, they're irresistibly cute."

"So you say, but I just don't see it." I assured.

She smirked. "You don't see it? Little guys are always surrounded by hoards of pretty girls! In fact, I'm half-shocked that you aren't." she chuckled, ruffling my hair. "S'that your natural color or no? I think it'd look better in blonde or red… or maybe some exotic color like blue!"

"I don't think it is." I told her. "A friend told me I had orange roots."

She nodded. "But back to what I was saying: little guys are the most adorable! Girls just can't resist when they see a boy who's even just a few inches shorter than normal. They're almost like pets that can talk back and think for themselves!"

"Reassuring… truly." I batted back, smirking to a slight. At least she was giving me truths.

"Really, don't worry about being disliked. Eventually, even a cold-hearted bitch like me can warm up to a little guy."

"Oh, so you're an evil, domineering woman, are you?" I sneered. "I could never tell with that almost fuzzy front you put up."

She smiled back. "I only act fuzzy toward people I like. If you ever get me in the same room with some person I hate, expect them dead or out of their mind by the time I'm through with 'em."

"Cruel and unusual." I told her. "A cold, hard bitch with a pretty face… heheh. Shame I never met you before."

"We'dve raised Hell." She assured. "Maybe it's better we met under these circumstances."

"Hey, whoever said that was a bad thing?" I asked her, opening and exiting the door.

She shook her head. "I certainly didn't." she said, following.

"So, you tagging along?" I queried backward.

"I have nothing better to do, I assure you."

"Welcome, then." I replied. "And one question."

"Yes?"

"Where did you last see Kasumi?" I questioned of her.

She smirked. "Not far from here; I'll show you."

She lead me deeper into the day, and into the woods as well. Sunlight seemed to escape me, running away at one glance of my haggard face. Chasing the fallen ebb of light, always pursuing the endless horizon and the unreachable orb that only seemed to want to stay afar from the beaten, weathered skin; the horrid, brutal scars and crimson-tainted slashes that damaged my veteran soul as much as my youthful complexion. It ran from the overwhelming darkness I carried within me… the enveloping emptiness I held dear to my ebon heart.

Until; I spotted a shimmer… a glint of flaming opal, reflected from a golden surface that could only be my passion's amber locks. I made toward it with great haste, leaving my leader behind and chasing the dashing orb that was the sunlight…

Stopping on an instep, I stood before the intense and radiant beauty I'd chosen to pursue. Catching my vanishing breath in shattered dregs, I swallowed dryly through my barren throat, moistening the demanding, arid void that inhabited my speech… the same void that resided within me; except that an unfulfilled heart requires more than just water to satisfy.

As soon as eyes of subtle, eerie blue befell me, I knew I could no longer consider being timid. I felt inadequate, scanned by those deeply scrutinizing eyes and measured as the likes of a boy. The same wild orbs I'd fallen prey to and been lost within for only so long; yet I already felt a sense of belonging in studying…

A slight fault in her expression told me this was not a hopeless battle, and I found a new sense of self-right by knowing she bore no grudge. This was my testimony… an internal battle brought to the outside by a rush of adrenaline and a newfound apathy for what would happen.

"Oh, hullo Shiro," the voice of an earthen angel engulfed my jaded ears and gave me a new longing for nothing more than words. Only the slightest trace of any deterrence in her face formed a still mouth to a hidden smile. "I hoped you'd come."

I fell to these words; sinking only in stature because of the weakness in my knees. I let these words ring for a moment; the best news I'd heard in ages. "I hoped you'd come."

"Don't feel so alone, Kasumi." I assured her, without speaking a word. "I was looking for you…" I turned to her, attempting approach with my inhibited limbs and amazing myself by reaching a fair distance. "Might the beast inquire why the beauty did wait?" I asked of her.

"Nay, the beast may not. However, I've no problem with the feline asking." She told me in return, a wry smile crossing her.

"Then by all means, the cat's curiosity is a trait I adore of myself."

"I wanted to speak to you." She told me quietly. She glanced to Yayoi, who was making a swift exit. "Who was that?"

I chuckled. "Just another clone." I assured. "We all seem to get along fairly well, seeing as we were all handed the same fate."

She offered her own subtle laugh, focusing upon my face with her sullen eyes. "Shiro, you do realize… that we're fifteen years apart…" she offered tentatively.

"I bear no concern to the matter." I admitted, glancing downward to find that my hands were unstill. Nervous, was I? It was a possibility… that much I know.

"None whatsoever or little?" she asked as a safe-netted question.

"It means as much to me as the fact that we're breaking the laws of nature—I could care less." I said to her, looking upon her drawing beauty that was famous for attracting her unwanted attention.

"It… it means something to me." she admitted. "It means the difference between us when we marry; it means the feeling that I'm far too old… if we ever had children, they'd be growing older by the time I'm falling shy of sixty!" she paused, shaking her head. "It would mean I would die fifteen years sooner than you, and I would have to leave you alone and miserable…"

I pulled through the block around my heart, the shadow of indecision that she seemed to have a habit of donning me. Before I truly knew what I was doing, I'd taken her delicate, yet sword-calloused hand—much like my own—and touched my retreating lips to hers. She presented no resistance, and her lips were full and emitted a subtle warmth… I felt a certain lament when I pulled away and broke into a scarce and gentle smile. "I don't care about all that." I told her. "I care that you might feel out of place…" I let my voice trail off… "But since when did I ever feel I was in the right place?"

She watched me through her still startlingly deep and wondrous eyes, a beautifully-rendered medium blue. She seemed at a loss for words, before a pink blush plagued her cheeks. "You… you kiss by the book." She uttered quietly. "I…"

"You don't have to say anything." I told her. "I know I'm a horrible person… I guess it shows." I began to stand, dismayed and returning to my sallow darkness.

"No!" she cried softly, as I felt her indescribably-textured hand take hold of my wrist. "That goes both ways…" she said softly. "I never meant to demean you…"

Laughing at my own ignorance, I turned my gaze back to her. "Forgive me… it's been a good while since I've picked up Romeo and Juliet."

She exhaled softly, a gentle smile adorning her again. "So you've heard the phrase, I see?"

I rejoined her, sitting among the blades of grass again. "Heard it? I've seen so many that were amazing until the kiss… it's disappointing to have to use the phrase darkly."

She watched me a moment through her glittering eyes, so truly youthful and full of light and hope that I didn't quite notice how hapless I was. Moments later, she'd placed her delicately-formed hand upon mine and given to me the promise of a kiss.

From that moment, I knew her as much more than just an intelligible, beautiful woman… I saw her as so much more; and forgotten my sorrow, enveloped by her light.

My withheld and stagnant breath flowed freely again, and for the first time in near seven years, I felt comfortable sitting so close to a female… knowing that she was in the same mindset I was.

And for those few moments, the escaping sun seemed to stop running; simply floating below the horizon, tingeing the clouds their flaming arrays of color; casting the dark shadow of indecision into the sky and the space above, ridding it of me and leaving a comforting warmth in its place. A warmth… that could only be shared by an Arcanine.

End