A/N: To any veteran followers of this story, you will realize this chapter has been very much revised. Others that are seeing this for the first time, thank you for taking the time to read this, and welcome to A Perfect Circle. This is the first serious fanfiction I have officially written and posted on the internet, hence why I've gone back and edited some of it.

Some Things to Touch Upon: There is explicit material all up in here, such as drugs, alcohol, moderate to intense violence, language, nudity, sexual content, horrific images, and other nice things. Also, I must disclaim that I did not create Mai HiME, and that all characters associated in this fiction belong to Sunrise Inc. I wrote this fiction in order to dwell upon the mysterious relationship between Natsuki and Mai and to what extents it could have (and should have) gone, while also experimenting with the socialism of the HiME after their rebirth.

Now that all that's said, I want you to sit back and hopefully enjoy the emotional rollercoaster that I've attempted to portray.

A Perfect Circle

Annihilation

"I am here to tell you a story.

This story will torture your thoughts by day

And poison your dreams by night.

...Though I will do my best...

There are no words that may be spoken

That can depict the stark and utter horror

Of this gorgeous tragedy."

Darkness and fire. A never-ending cycle, whirlwinds of flames in the pitch black manifested through a field of empty night. The bleeding cascade diminished as the tips of burning hate dissipated into the dark blue sky, illuminated by the only light of an enflamed moon. It was cold if not for the unnaturally hot winds cascading through the intervals of darkness. The moon seemed to grow in size; a soft, seething red glow glided across the surface. Off in the distance, an overture of chimes rung cryptically, one by one, into a tune. Whispering associated this tune, shallow and angelic, as the fires danced in a frenzy of condescending destruction.

From dehumanization to arms,

Production.

For the benefit of the nation,

Or it's destruction?

Blood was whipped viciously across white walls. There was the earsplitting crying, the incessant wailing. Bones cracked, and there was screaming. The sight of fire still reminisced as quick flashes of feminine figures covered in blood, desperate eyes, twisted eyes stood in an awe to something. Noises of torture coursed over the howl of the flames and repetitive carillon, and a church bell tolled, exposing its image of corrosion as flames overtook the dying structure.

Power is power.

The law of the land.

Those living for death

Will die by their own hand.

Even though the bells continued, the sound of flames, of vicious wind and screaming and church bells stopped. There lay a woman, A beautifully tragic portrait of hair the color of fire and eyes chiseled from amethyst jewels, holding in her shaking embrace a struggling young boy, hair and eyes a softer chestnut. He clutched his chest, blood seeping from his palm, from the corner of his breaking lips. Red trickled sadly through his eyes in replace of tears. The woman was staring at him, screaming. But there was no noise, no voice, only the song of the bells echoed through the darkness as a beautiful girl watched her dearest brother fall lifeless in her arms.

Life's no ordeal,

If you come to terms.

Reject the system

Dictating the norms.

"Gakutenou!" The voice of a woman cried as the ravaging flames re-surfaced. An unnatural roar emitted into the air and shook the scorched earth, with sounds of tearing and shredding and catastrophe. Screaming commenced. Another female's voice yelled, pleading.

"Miroku!" A flashing image of splattered blood came and disappeared, and there was the sound of metal ripping through flesh. Proceeding was more crying, more screaming. The cycle was endless.

"Gennai!" A blinding flash of light overcame all sound and sight. There appeared a dimension of emptiness, a world of utter silence and white. In the center of empty white, a noose laced around a woman's neck, holding her to an eternal ceiling. Dark-eyed, pale-skinned, her long, drying hair fallen timidly around her shoulders, all she did, with a lifeless, blood-red gaze and mirthless smile, said,

"Kiyohime."

The image burned under the oppressive vision of fire.

Power is power.

The law of the land.

Those living for death

Will die by their own hand.

Again and never ceasing, the endless cycle raged on. The fire, the grand collapse of the church as its bell falls, the haunting sounds of women screaming and crying. The names of mythological entities being cried out in despair. Gakutenou, Miroku, Gennai, Pegasus, Diana, Julia...Kiyohime. Suddenly, the screaming hushed, and diminished into the flames as they too faded away, leaving complete darkness. The beautiful woman with fire-red hair knelt lifelessly onto the ground, head bowed. There was a tangible silence. Then the bells played their music.

From dehumanization, to arms.

Production.

To hasten the nation

Towards its destruction.

It's your choice...

She lifted her head to the black world. With eyes closed, her lips parted.

Peace, or annihilation?

" Kagutsuchi."

And everything exploded.

White sheets writhed violently as a woman yelled, jerking up hysterically from her bed-ridden state and becoming so disgruntled with excitement and fear, that she fell out of her bed and onto the floor. There was heavy and phrenetic breathing, and she frantically lifted herself to her feet as her knees trembled, shocked, traumatized emerald orbs looking frantically left and right against the darkness of her bedroom. After a moment of silence, save shaken, heavy breaths and a harshly pounding heart, Natsuki relieved herself and sighed with an uneven breath she didn't realize she was keeping in. She wiped the cold, uncomfortable sweat from her forehead with a hand that shook because of unstable, spastic nerves, and her cold fingertips trailed down her cheek slowly before her arm fell against her side. Shifting a chunk of blue hair onto her shoulder, she tiredly sat down on her bedside, placing her face into her hands and squeezing her aching head, feeling her temples pulsate.

"Fuck..." She groaned, hands sliding down her pale face. Natsuki lifted her head up lethargically and her deeply bruised eyes gazed dumbly into the wall. She stood and toiled her way through the creaked door, out through the hall shroud in blue darkness of the moonlight, and walked into the kitchen. She opened a cabinet, which it creaked loudly, took out a plastic cup, and halfheartedly closed the door so that it lingered open. She pressed the lever on the fridge that emitted water, bringing the chilled drink to her pale lips. She gargled it down in seconds, the ice-cold liquid flowing through her throat and diminishing her cottonmouth. Then she tossed the cup into the sink from the other side of the kitchen and winced, as the impact of plastic against the metal created a loud bang that disrupted the lonely silence. Drudging sleepily to her couch, she sat down indolently and stared with dull eyes at the clock on her DVD player.

4:03 a.m.

"Every night..." She mumbled, holding the remote in her hand. She realized that consistent rambling from the television wouldn't ease her mind, so she dropped the remote onto the couch, laying her head back against the cushion to look up at the ceiling. Her bare feet were on the wooden coffee table, and her heel clanked against something that fell. Natsuki jerked her head and sat upright, lifting the picture frame slowly, to which portrayed herself, and Shizuru holding her around the waist from behind with an angelic, warm smile. Her grip tightened against the frame.

"Shizuru...Why..."

Will I ever be able to sleep at night?

After she swallowed the anguish that was making her throat sore, she sighed, and put the picture back down on its front. She lowered her weary body, weaker now, onto the couch, and closed her heavy eyes, waiting for sleep to accompany her bitterness.

But no sanctuary waited for her there. Only whispers and nightmares.