NOTICE: The original first and second chapters of Become the Wind -- which is now Spring Awakening -- are hereby scrapped. Sorry for the short-notice, but I didn't really care for the first or second chapters, and I found a way around a gaping plot hole that I before didn't see a way around... and here it is! So this is the true first chapter of the sequel to Engel's Zimmer.

Thank you everyone for your cooperation! I really want to make the sequel as good as the first, and the first two chapters of Become the Wind didn't really flow with the mood of Engel's Zimmer.

So...

Tripple snuckle brownies for everyone for putting up with my slow updates and chapter changes! Love you all!

Spring Awakening
Chapter 1 - Carpe Diem

"You better hurry up or you'll miss the dance," Muta sneered and stretched himself out on the pink comforter.

Haru flicked a pair of underwear at the lazy cat and stuck out her tongue, having spent the last thirty minutes putting on her make-up. She inspected herself in her vanity, every hair in place, every speck of powder smooth upon her cheeks. Her hands shook with nerves. It was the first dance since Death's Waltz, but that wasn't why she was nervous. The hormonal teenager inside of her way the one shaking like a leaf, desperately hoping she looked perfect enough. She hoped Muta hadn't noticed her quivering. He wasn't very observant that way.

"How're you gonna walk in those things?" the fat cat swiped a paw at her silver four-inch heels lying desolate beside her closet. "Why not wear flats? You'll fall flat on your face, you know."

She pouted. "Will not. Besides," she sniffed indignantly, "Baron's a good half a foot taller. I look like a complete shrimp beside him if I don't wear heels!"

"Or is it that the angle you look up at him impairs your kisses?" He made kissing noises and began to mock her in a high falsetto, "Oh, this is sooo unromantic! I'm looking up at your nose hairs! My neck's beginning to hurt. Why're you so tall --" and earned a green and pink polka-dotted panty in the face.

"You're a rotten thing, you know that?" Haru began to blush and quickly slapped her cheeks to keep herself in line. And still, her hands shook. "No angel food cake for you."

Muta's eyes bulged. "WHAT?"

"You heard me!" She stood, pulling her dark blue dress above her ankles so she wouldn't trip on it again, and made her way over to her silver shoes. "Besides, Shizuku picked these out. You have to admit they do look nice."

"If you like to pretend you're a model, sure."

"Muta!"

"What?"

"Muta," another voice joined their squabble, "it's not nice to harass my date."

"Baron!" Haru spun towards the door, tripped on her own dress, and gave out a startled yelp before inevitably falling. Strong arms caught her before she did a complete face plant, and set her back on her feet steadily. She clutched on to his black tuxedo, muttering indignantly curses on the frivolity of dresses.

Baron gave a hardy laugh and tucked a stray tress of nutmeg hair behind her ear. "You look lovely, Haru... Maybe you should take Muta's advice for once. If you can't stand on your own two feet as it is, how will you ever manage in heels?"

She began to blush a deep red.

"But they do look nice, and she is too pretty," he gave Muta a playful glare, "to be goggled at like a model."

Haru's face could have been mistaken for a tomato.

"And the dress," he wrapped his arms around her midsection and brought her into his chest. His heart beat under her hands, and the tuxedo was electrifyingly warm to her fingertips. She had to crane her neck to look up, but she managed, sure she was as red as a beetroot by then. He was quite tall for a former foot-high figurine. Rivaling six foot, and most Japanese girls were quite miniature. No wonder she felt like a midget. "The dress looks ravishing," he told her sincerely.

"Um... ah... thanks," she squeaked, her hands shaking so much she had to clamp on to his tuxedo to keep him from noticing. "Shizuku and I picked it out a long long long time ago. I didn't think I'd need it so I didn't buy it then..." she downcast her eyes, remembering quite well that day a month ago. The day she decided to search out Barron Humbert von Jikkigen. And now he was here -- living so close she could hear his heartbeat. "Good thing the store still had it, huh?"

"It'd be a shame if you had to rent a tuxedo like me," he joked warmly and kissed her forehead. "Now cheer up, stop shaking --" her hands suddenly flew away from his tux, her cheeks reddening again from embarrassment "-- and most importantly, relax. Everything will be fine. I promise."

"Nothing ever goes fine," she muttered and turned away from him, carefully slipping over to don her heels.

Baron sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "What's the worse that could happen?"

"Um, let's think," she gave a brief, dramatic pause while fitting on her first heel, "Death could stop by."

"Unlikely," he remarked.

"Louise could rise from the dead."

"Pah," he scoffed.

"The taxi could go flying off the road into a park, through the trees, and skewer us all."

He gave her blank look. "Never thought of that."

"Or," she pressed after squeezing her foot into the other heel, "during the first song I could trip, fall, break my heel, and be looking waaaay up at you all night long."

"I'm not that tall," he replied indignantly and folded his arms over his chest. "And just for the record, I'll catch you if you fall. I always will." He stepped over the dirty clothes lying across the floor to reach her, and bent down a little to stare eye-level into her chocolate eyes. "Just for the record."

Then he kissed her on the nose and grabbed her hand. She gave a yelp of protest, grabbed her silver purse (which matched her shoes perfectly) and stumbled along after him. On the first stair step, she knew that heels weren't such a good idea after all.

"Um, Baron, I don't think --" the edge of her foot slipped off the landing, and she plummeted forwards, taking even the mangy-haired man by surprise. He scuttled to catch her, managed, but was hit by her flailing silver purse and lost his balance with her. With an indignant scream, he followed her down until they lay in a heap of mangled jewelry, blue silk, and tuxedo at the bottom of the stairs.

Haru managed to sit up, and gave a pout. Baron struggled up beside her, and rubbed the side of his head where he had hit the railing.

"What was that about catching me when I fall?" Haru jibbed.

"I was not expecting it so soon," he muttered darkly and winced as his hands felt under his shaggy hair for the rising lump. "Bloody ow," he winced, catching her attention.

She knelt up and filed through his glossy orange hair to find a good-sized bruise swelling up. Her heart dipped into her stomach. Great. Of all the nights her klutziness would reign, it had to be the night of the Spring Fling.

He winced when she set her fingers on it, and found Haru's face creased into a frown. A spark in him hated to see her frown. She looked so beautiful tonight, a frown should not have been even thought of on her face. Gently, he took her wrist and migrated her attention away from his bruise, and leaned over to kiss her neck. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

"But that's a nasty-looking --"

"'Tis only a flesh wound," he managed before kissing her neck again. Instinctively, she bent into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his temple. He twined his fingers into her falling hair and proceeded to push her shoulder strap off her shoulder when a shadow fell upon them. He froze.

Toto sighed in the doorway. "You know," he thrummed his fingers against the doorway, "if I didn't know better I would have to say that you two are utter teenage hopeless at its best."

Slowly, Baron and Haru leaned away from each other awkwardly.

From the top of the steps, Muta gave a catty laugh. "And we thought Baron was the responsible one! Boy were we ever wrong."

Toto agreed. "He was the level-headed one."

"The posh-Cary-Elwes-calm one."

"The smooth I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter one."

"The --"

"Alright!" Baron snapped. "Alright!" He stood in one swift motion, body tense and hands fisted. "You try living in the hormonally-wishy-washy body of a nineteen-year-old and you see how it is!" He aimed a short glare at Toto, grit his teeth so that he couldn't say anything more, and pushed past Toto into the kitchen. The back door slammed with a deafening thwack.

Toto and Muta winced. Haru looked embarrassingly into her lap, and frowned. The raven-haired man cast a look up the steps to the calico cat, and rubbed the bristles on his chin worriedly.

The fat cat began making his way down the steps, "Jeez, and you'd think he'd like to be young and in the throws of love."

"I think his ego's getting the best of him."

Haru looked up at her soon-to-be stepfather in a daze of bafflement. "What do you mean?" She knew Baron had been acting a bit weird lately -- almost bipolar it seemed -- but she reckoned it was just him adjusting. I'd never thought about his age, she thought worriedly. How old is he? "He doesn't..." her words caught like claws in her throat, "...doesn't want to be..."

"No-No-No!" Toto waved his hands around frantically. "Nothing like that I don't think... but one does have to wonder, you know."

"Wonder about what?"

"To know here how you're supposed to be acting," he tapped his head, "but act from here instead." He then tapped his chest and gave a crow-like shrug. "He's never had to worry about things like hormones. Hell, I don't have to worry too often. And I'm as old as hell."

"So he wants to be older? Like you?" Haru pulled her shoulder strap back up and managed to get to her feet on her own. "Is he older than you?"

"Not in the least," he shook his head. "I'm at least a century older. But he is old enough to be your grandfather, you know."

Haru rubbed her neck where he had kissed her. The skin still tingled. "Really?" She'd never thought about their age often, probably because they were once figurines. Figurines didn't have birthdays, she reckoned, but then she realized they most certainly did. "So Baron's not his age?"

"Nope."

"And he wants to be?" But then that would mean he... that would mean he would be much older than her. And even in today's lenient society, she doubted something like that would fly. She gulped the worry down again and shook those thoughts away. Nineteen or nine-hundred. It didn't matter how old Baron really was. She'd cross her fingers and hope for the best. "Nevermind," she stopped Toto from answering, "It doesn't matter."

Gathering her dress, and set out the back door after Baron with a steel determination.

Toto and Muta watched her leave, and only then did Toto dawn a smile. "You know," he told the fat cat, "I don't think Baron should worry."

"Pah," the cat scoffed. "You think?"

"Yes. I do." He watched as his old friend came lumbering down the stairs and rested at his feet. "This is just another bump in the road. They'll get through it."

"And since when have you become wise, birdbrain?" Muta sniffed and curled up into a ball at his feet.

A distant look crossed the old birdbrain's eyes. He didn't answer, but then again he didn't need to. Muta already knew the answer even if he didn't want to admit it. Toto stooped to his old-time friend, scooped him up in his arms, and carried him into the quilt room where Mrs. Yoshioka fitted a pattern together. He kissed her cheek lovingly, for she was too deep into her work to be bothered, and sat in an empty chair to watch as she thrummed her fingers on the desk, rocked back and forth, and thought, unaware he had even stepped into the room. He watched silently, holding the lazy Muta in his arms, and knew almost exactly how Baron felt.

Which was why he had to kid Baron for it, or else he would think too much into all this humanity too.

"That's a lovely pair," the sandy-haired woman muttered, fitting two pieces of design together, and began to hum.

--

"Baron -- Baron stop please!" Haru called after the mangy-haired young man. She followed him across the clean-cut lawn to the front gate where he stopped and cocked his head a little. When she finally caught up to him, she wrapped her hands around his and put her face into his chest. He stiffened slightly. "Nineteen or ninety, I don't care," she said defiantly. "I don't care."

He didn't respond.

"I don't. And even if I did, what does it matter? I'm yours. You're mine." She pressed her head further into his chest, and squeezed his hands tightly. "I'm yours," she repeated. "I'll always be yours."

Still, he stood as still as a statuette. Silent.

"And just for the record," she finally said, and looked up into his glowing green eyes, and found the cat-like reflection behind them. The wit, the cunning, the predator. The oval slits that would always remind her that he would never exactly be human. She bent up, and kissed his human lips, and loved them just as she loved his eyes. "I'll love you no matter who or what you are."

And then he smiled, baring strikingly white teeth, more point that edge, more blade than blunt. More cat than mouse. "Nineteen or ninety, eh?"

She nodded decisively.

"We'll see," he bent and briefly kissed her on the lips to show his restraint, and cupped her hands into his instead. "We'd better hurry," he changed the subject, "before we are late for the ball."

"The magic's over at midnight," she chided.

He led her out of the garden gate onto the sidewalk, and wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but restrained himself. He would surely master his emotions. It couldn't be that hard. "Not tonight," he whispered into her ear.

And from the far corner of the street under the stark streetlight stood a woman, poised and rigid, as if the hairs on her body were standing on edge. She bared her gleaming teeth and narrowed her glowing green eyes.

Baron felt her stare and quickly glanced over his shoulder, but the woman was gone.

"What is it?" Haru asked.

"Just some jitters," he dismissed airily. "I'm not looking forward to your modern dancing. No waltzes?"

"Nope."

"Then how do you dance?"

"I'll teach you." Haru smiled as a horn blared at the street corner. A taxi waited, Hiromi hanging out the window in a beautiful lily-colored dress, waving frantically at the slow couple. Her date sat beside her, conversing with the driver who seemed a little annoyed by his date's loudness.

"Hey!" Hiromi yelled. "Hurry up! Or we'll miss all the good food!"

Haru hid a fit of giggles and played along, pulling her date impatiently towards the taxi. "Hurry hurry!" she laughed. "Or we'll miss the crumpets!"

Her smile proved to be contagious, for only moments after Baron had decided to act responsible, mature, and quite like himself, he began to laugh and let her pull him towards the taxi. "Carpe Diem," he muttered to himself, and threw his maturity to the spring wind. He raced around Haru, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her, laughing and kicking, to the taxi.

"Lemme go! Lemme go!" Haru yelled and playfully bit his ear. "I'll tear your ear off if you don't let me go!"

He jostled her into submission. "You'll fall flat on your face," he replied breathlessly, and forced her into the taxi. "And that would be a shame."

Hiromi took hold of her friend by the waist and pulled her inside so Baron could squeeze in, and shut the door. They were packed like sardines into the small cab, but the closeness didn't matter. They were too breathless to realize, and too numb with laughter to feel any cramp whatsoever.

"Jeez, I thought you slow pokes would never make it! What took you so long?" She lounged back on Tsuge and playfully rubbed his short hair.

Haru and Baron exchanged a look. "We were falling down stairs," Haru said with an air of dignity.

"Very gracefully, I might add," Baron added.

"Psh, yeah right," Tsuge rolled his eyes. "Just admit it, you were looking for condoms."

Hiromi knocked her boyfriend upside the head and apologized for his rudeness as the taxi drove away with the four teens (two squirming in embarrassment) squeezed inside, towards a Spring Fling that wouldn't last forever. That wouldn't be filled with perfect souls. It was a dance for teenagers who weren't perfect, who didn't know their places in life yet, and who didn't fit in with society yet. But it was a dance nonetheless.

A dance of Life, instead of one of Death.

Glowing green eyes watched as the taxi drove away. She watched with an untamable hatred, with a fury to match the wild tsunamis. She watched in patience, and began to plan.

Baron had shown her a fatal flaw. A flaw like those eyes of his. Eyes that were also hers, for their creator created them together.

"Carpe Diem," she muttered and turned out of the streetlight, down the darkened road. "Seize the day."

Was it better than the other one?

Continue or No?