So, here's the new prologue... I hope you like it! I understand that it will raise some questions among returning readers, but stay tuned! I have a surprise for you which should be up on the website before the new year.

AGAINST THE GRAIN

"The ideas and feelings are fast and frequent like shooting stars… But, somewhere, this fast ideas are far too fast, and there are far too many; overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. Everything previously moving with the grain is now against—you are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable… It will never end, for madness carves its own reality."

—Kay Jamison

Prelude

When we enter the oddly humble-looking building, my eyes have to adjust to the sudden darkness. Within, a few things are illuminated by dim overhead lights—a shining metal gurney, a row of vials with sickly-colored substances within them. A desk strewn with papers. At the desk is the person I've come all this way for. The person I've abandoned everything, risked everything—including my own life—to see.

For a moment, I don't know what to say or do. I just stand there while Hiei passes me and makes himself comfortable by leaning in the corner near the shadowy demon. He looks completely at ease here, though I suppose this shouldn't surprise me.

I open my mouth to make my presence known.

"I know why you've come, Reina," the figure says, not even bothering to turn away from his business. He instead gestures to a set of chairs near a cold, metal gurney. "Sit. You sound tired."

I am tired, but I really don't want to seem weak—not now, not when everything is at stake and I'm so close to the end. Kuronue has none of that though, and all but forces me into one of the chairs, retreating somewhere behind me. I know that he is probably crossing his arms, glaring at the other demon and trying to look intimidating—at this, I almost smile. If this demon is powerful enough for Hiei to defer to him, what chances did Kuronue have? Zero.

"And, due to your company…" the figure turns, and I recognize him with a dull shock—though I'd only seen him years ago, and through someone else's eyes, "I'm sure you know what you must now do."

I do. He wants me to tell him why I'm here, leaving nothing out. He would judge me by my past.

"There isn't…" I look at Hiei, who is standing in the corner, watching silently, "there isn't a single story that's enough. Everything is connected. Everything has led to this."

The one Hiei had simply called the "Undoer" stares at me dispassionately, and I wonder if I've already lost. If I have come all this way… for nothing. To die of exposure. At least my death would accomplish something, but there's still a fire in me that won't burn out. Not like last time. This time, I don't welcome death for all the things it could accomplish. I will die on my own terms. I will.

"Then tell me everything," the hulking demon says in a low, gravelly voice. "This place is safe. You have the time."

I chance another glance in Hiei's direction. He says nothing; he doesn't even meet my gaze.

"It was so long ago," I say hesitantly, as if excusing myself. I can't believe there's enough left in me to feel chagrined… embarrassed about anything. The yawning emptiness where he used to be had consumed everything, or so I'd thought. But now my gaze fixes on my hands in shame.

"Don't falter," the Undoer orders. "It's your story. Tell it with authority, or you have no business here."

I catch sight of my reflection in the gurney, and notice without surprise how terrible I look. I'd been this thin before, but the defeat in my gaze is something I haven't seen in a long time. My face itself is a story. Thin scars on my cheek, my throat—an almost invisible curved one under my eye. There are scars from burns, from claws, that are hidden. My right hand falls over the crook of my left elbow, and the puckered flesh there—even though it means nothing, now—steadies me.

I meet the Undoer's stare, and breathe in. "Okay. But this will take a while."

Because I decided to add a third installment to this series, the frame of focus had to change a bit. Now, Reina is telling a story, her story—but to who? We'll find out!