Long, long ago, I remember my father telling me how out of all my brothers and sisters, I was by far the most stubborn. Whether it came to playing, working, studying, whatever you could name, they all seemed to have some variable point where they would simply give in and move on with their lives. But me? No, not even close. I'd just keep trying and trying and trying until I either got whatever it was down-pat or someone dragged me away kicking and screaming from whatever it was.

In retrospect, it's funny how things turn out I suppose. Here I was now, in my one-thousandth-four-hundred year alive. And here I was, doing the exact same thing I'd been doing for centuries stubbornly even though I knew it would never get me anywhere. I was straddling the stomach of a beautiful woman in a regal pinki kimono, half-hunched forward and out of breath. My knuckles were scratched and bruised from crashing against her face and chest so many times that it felt like my arms were on the verge of popping out of their sockets. Blood and sweat were pouring down my face, leaving my shirt (itself half-unbuttoned and torn in a few spots) an absolute mess.

"A...Are we f..finished then, Mokou?" She asked beneath me. I stared down at her; she was in even worse shape than me. I'd broken her nose, and she was sporting a rather vicious black eye. Her lovely, milky-skinned face was nicked all over from my blows and that long black hair of hers was tangled and ruined. Of course, I knew, in a few days all those injuries would be gone, just as mine would be. And the next time we met, I'd bring them back. Or she'd bring them to me. That was how it always was with Kaguya Houraisan; I don't think I'd ever had a meeting with her that didn't end with one of us beating the stuffing out of the other.

"Yeah. This time, I think." I muttered quietly, half out of breath. I slid off of her, standing shakily and wiping a sleeve across my forehead. She sat up not long after, gently dusting off her midsection where I'd been sitting. As if that damned kimono could be saved with all of those stains on it now. I chuckled and shook my head. Always keeping up appearances...

"Do you think... We're going to do this forever?"

Her question caught me off guard. I looked over at the object of my hatred with tired eyes, only to find her scarcely paying attention to me; Kaguya was staring up at the moon with an expression that I couldn't quite place beyond a general sadness. It hung above us like a ghastly, ever-watching face and oftentimes I loathed to look up at it. It reminded me of her.

"Probably." I answered without much hesitation, still. I felt like that was the honest way to take things even though I had no real ideas where that question had suddenly come from. What was it even supposed to mean? Of course we would. We always would. We always have. I hate her, and I could only assume that she, too, hated me. Though it always seemed that in moments like these, after our conflicts, our differences were torn down. Only once we were bloody and ragged were we allowed to speak to one another.

"I suppose I'll have to put up with it then." she said in a good-humored voice. She rose up one sleeve in front of her face as she laughed. Inadvertently, this covered up the broken nose and the blood trickling out of it along her lips. Good for her; that didn't look very princess-like.

"Whatever. I'm going home. Next time I see you, I'll kill you all the way." I growled. Shakily, I began to make my way back towards my house. I could feel her eyes on my back, watching me as I swaggered in a totally unsteady gate through the bamboo plants away from the clearing.

"Not if I get you first next time. But... if we're really going to do this forever, I suppose that we'll have lots of time to get even with each other."

My name is Mokou Fujiwara. I am a human, and yet I have lived for so very long. Every time I die, my body is engulfed in the purifying flames of the phoenix and again and again I am called to continue to walk this Earth. It can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the day. And yet, I know that in the end, I have absolutely no one to blame but myself, and I could never ask for anyone in this world to shoulder the burder that I'll carry until beyond the end of time.

The thing is, I don't always have a say in the matter. This is a story of one of those times.


I hope you enjoyed this short little prologue to something (hopefully) greater. I've been wanting to write this story for a good while now and I figured it was a good time to stop holding back and go ahead and embark on this little journey. Expect more chapters in the coming days.

To those looking forward to more Fragile Wonderland, don't worry; I'm still hard at work on the next chapter. I'm not going to give up on that story; still, I've always found variety has helped me write a little bit better so I don't see harm in running two simultaneous fics. At least, not yet!

Thanks for reading. As always, criticism is welcome.