Tokyo was gleaming like a scattering of jewels beneath the night sky, winking in and out of sight, buzzing like a beehive in its evening business and traffic. Takeru stared down at it from high atop the building, squinting down with a deep azure gaze at his city and the ground far below, at the oblivious masses. He kneeled on the concrete and rested his hands on the cold ends, ready to spit at the existence beneath.

…Jump…

He nearly did in his surprise, turning quickly in his crouch to find the source of the voice. Shadows welcomed him, eating away his vision, the rooftop blanketed in darkness. He couldn't see more than two feet behind. "Who's there?"

Jump, little one…

Out of instinct, he remained crouched, wary and watchful, his hands fisting. But his heart wasn't pumping in fear, on the contrary, his blood was singing in response to the voice. "Who are you?"

Jump, and be free…

His confusion was thick, but it quickly dissolved into cold pangs of alarm as the shadows began stretching toward him, dark feelers reaching out to caress him. He backed up before they could touch him, his feet bringing him to a sudden stop on the edge of the roof.

Jump, little angel… jump…

There was no escape except down and that wasn't even an option. The shadows when they reached him were a void of feeling, the numbness setting in as soon as they touched him, urging him back, back towards the edge.

Jump, little angel… jump…

"No…" He closed his eyes and slumped forward as his legs lost strength.

Be free, angel… Jump and be free…

The shadows were swallowing him up, taking the chance, burrowing in his chest, his body lost to him, but he was still aware, awake, forcing himself not to fall. "…No… stop…" He shook his head weakly and tried to get up, to open his eyes, to remember. "Okaasan…"

Frustrated, he forced himself to regain control and managed to push himself to his knees, forcing his heavy eyes to open. Weak from this alone, he lifted his head and looked up into the hazy distance, into a light. A bright light that hurt his eyes and ate his vision as much as the darkness had, but he didn't avert his gaze. He watched transfixed, as the light grew closer, as it slowly took the form of a female… a female with a bow.

The shadows slithered away from him, recoiling in the brightness of the light, but they weren't quick enough, his chest still swarming with what he saw now were small inky critters he couldn't name.

The girl lifted her bow, aimed her arrow of light…

"No!"

… and shot.

The Scattering: One
Something was dripping, faintly; keeping a rhythm that Takeru eventually woke up to.

For a cold sweaty second, he pegged it as his blood, the steady drip of his life draining out of him from his shoulder blade where the burning arrow had gone through him. He waited for death to claim him, weakened by the realization.

But then his alarm went off, surprising him into reflex and he sat up with a quickness impending death surely couldn't have left in him. He pushed the off button on his alarm and blinked at it for a moment, trying to recover his wits. Soon enough, his dusty, old alarm clock came into focus, along with the time. The hands over the faded Astro Boy background indicated that it was ten after seven.

Sighing, he fell back into his pillows, realizing that it had all been just a dream. A crazy dream in which someone had tried to kill him… more than once, at that.

""Keru-chan…" His mother's voice drifted into his bedroom.

With a groan, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up again, disentangling himself from his damp sheets.

…Woke up in a cold sweat again.

He stripped out of his pajamas in the early morning light that filtered in through his curtains, slipping into some navy-blue trousers he found hanging over his desk chair before picking up his sheets and discarded nightclothes and trailing them into the laundry room, dumping them on the basket. He washed and brushed quickly, running fingers through his perpetually messy blond hair and found a clean white shirt and socks for school. The uniform was ugly and had always been ugly, but it was mandatory.

Once he was presentable, he slipped into the living room.

He found her on the couch, asleep on her stomach, her head, an arm, and a leg dangling over the side onto the carpeting. The TV had been left on, but the sound was off and her snoring was gentle, barely audible. She must've called out for him in her sleep. She did that sometimes when she drank too much.

With a silent sigh, he took the small bottle of liquor from her nerveless fingers and took it to the kitchen, disposing the last of the amber contents in the sink. He threw away the bottle and tightened the faucet handles as much as he could, the steady dripping in the silence of the apartment disturbing him.

He kneeled in front of his mother, brushing the hair from her cool forehead and kissing it lightly, murmuring a goodbye. Then he stood up, slipping into his navy-blue jacket and shouldering his schoolbag. Out of habit, he fit his black paperboy cap on his head over his tousled hair before slipping into his shoes at the door.

"Yama… Yama-chan…"

Her lost murmur ached in his heart as he stepped out, shirttails untucked.

School was an endless chore, lasting forever without much respite. Not even the breaks between the eight-hour drag were of much enthusiasm considering his friends numbered few. But it was a distraction nonetheless.

By second period, his dream was forgotten. By the end of fifth, all he wanted to think about was Hikari.

The girl was sitting right in front of him, her scent drifting over to him with help from the fan turning lazily overhead. She smelled of Sakura blooms, cliché though it was, but on her the scent was quite appealing. Her head was bent over her work, glossy chestnut hair barely touching the collar of her blouse. As soon as the bell rang, she turned in her seat and smiled at him, her brown eyes bright with amusement at his slight blush.

But before she could say anything, before a word was uttered, a whirlwind landed to her left, seating itself on her desk and pressing a kiss on her petal cheek.

Motomiya Daisuke was what Takeru had never been and would never become; a well known, big-mouthed soccer captain. Not that Takeru had anything against soccer; he had just never joined a team and didn't plan to put himself in that position. First off, he'd always been rather small when younger. Shrimp sized and then growing a foot and some since puberty took a little getting used to. But what bothered him about Daisuke was how obviously sprung he was on Hikari. And how much he enjoyed talking.

Take now, for instance. The burgundy-haired boy turned in his seat, fixed those oblivious claret eyes on Takeru and grinned. "Did you see it, Takahashi? I can't believe they did this, but I guess it was due. I mean, I'd want the school to do something like this for me."

Takeru didn't miss the alarmed glance Hikari shot him before she reached out to lay a hand on Daisuke's sleeve. "Iie Motomiya-kun. Maybe he hasn't read it yet - "

But Daisuke ignored her, slapping the school newspaper in front of the frowning blonde. Suspicious, Takeru glanced at it, wondering if maybe Hikari had done another article that had made the front page, but when his gaze landed on it, on the picture more than anything, his heart lurched and the blood froze in his veins.

"It's been half a year, right? Half a year since the rock-star went missing?"

But he was beyond listening, beyond the stupidity of the callous onlookers, beyond anything. He felt oddly numb as he stared down at it, at the "Ishida Tribute: A Star That Will Never Fade" and Yamato's school picture, his unaware gaze, serious, cool, the brother he still saw now in his dreams. Oniisan…

He hadn't realized he had spoken out loud until he heard Daisuke's outburst. "Dude, he's your brother!"

True, mostly no one knew that little fact. And Takeru had had a hard time keeping it that way, the pitying looks and empty sympathy he'd surely get more than he could stomach even mentally. Only a few knew that the famous, disappeared, probably never returning Ishida Yamato was related closely to Takahashi Takeru.

Yagami Hikari was one of them.

He felt her cool fingers on his hand, but he ignored the contact.

"Gomen nasai Takahashi." Daisuke's voice was sincere. "I… I didn't know…"

Takeru only shook his head, pushing the newspaper away and standing up. He left the classroom just as the sensei for sixth period walked in from the other door, so he left undetected. Except that he could feel their eyes on his back, sympathetic, pitying; maddeningly annoying.

He walked down empty hallways, his feet heavy, his breath shaky, his eyes not focusing. It was like they had already pronounced his brother dead, a soul never to return, a kick n the stomach, glass down his throat. That stupid article had made it a reality; something that had finally faded from the news, the boy missing, will we ever find him? It was like his mum's drinking, allowing death to claim everything, down to the pores, drowning in despair, allowing it to take her. Angry tears stung his eyes.

He wasn't sure where he was heading until he started climbing stairs, up and up and up, to the freedom and solitude of the roof. He squinted once he got there, the sunlight bright on the white cement blinding him momentarily, but when his eyes recovered, he noticed the figure several feet away from him. He approached slowly, frowning, briefly forgetting his pain as he wondered who would bother his need for seclusion right now. He stopped right beside it. Or her, really, his only company was a girl wearing a uniform, but not the Odaiba High uniform. It was dark green, plaid skirt and white blouse, white kneesocks and about three silver piercings in her ear. She was asleep; a wisp of a girl curled up on her side, her bright red hair a bloodstain on the white cement.

Takeru stared down at her without meaning to, his mind working, trying to remember when he had seen her before. She was probably new to the school, wearing her old uniform and he had never seen her on the school grounds before that he could recall.

And just when a feather of a memory tickled at the back of his mind she opened her eyes rather suddenly, jerking awake. She blinked a few times and eventually rolled over, her gaze clearing and focusing on him with ruby intensity. The ruby gaze widened for a moment and she looked up at him skeptically, suspiciously.

"… Ishida…"

To be continued...

A/N: I'm warning you guys right now that this isn't gonna be a pretty fic. AU, non-cannon, some dark themes.

Ano… review, please? .