Disclaimer: The story is solely based on the OVAs of Ai No Kusabi and is free from the story line or interpretation of characters as presented in the canon.

SUMMARY: After the fire at Dana Burn, Raoul Am is appointed ruler. With great aversion to politics, he struggles to live up to the expectations of Jupiter and the surrounding worlds. But as the world comes crashing down under the pressures of a new revolution, Raoul reveals his key-player behind a brutal game, Iason Mink - whom the world thought was consumed by the flames at Dana Burn. Once again, the two men join forces to work along side to fight the future.
A new way of life is dawning that demands a new way of thinking. The greatest enemies are no longer the poor and broken in the lowest cast, but those who wear the same color - the Blondies. Do the two men have what it takes to go against all they were brought up to believe in and can Jupiter be taken out in the process?
But there are also enemies within. Feelings of jealousy and passion that leaves them all in a whirling storm of confusion.


If angels can fall...then Blondies can change.

DEATH OF THE OLD

The twelfth planet, swirling and plowing its way through the stardust in the distant arm of the Glan Galaxy, had never before been ravaged by such a tragedy as that, which even shattered the breath of Jupiter. It moved the stars and shook the ground, yet from space Amoi seemed ever so peaceful and inviting.

Raoul Am stared at what remained of the complex on the other side of Tanagura. Smoke rose against the black skies like a glowing serpent, born through fire and devastation, and licking its way to the heavens. He crushed an Alpha Zenian crystal glass mercilessly with fingers that clenched in an aching, involuntary cramp, as the explosion of Dana Burn lit up the area around Ceres, the slums getting the brunt of the blast. He shouted involuntarily in alarm behind the protective glass of his office, situated within the marvellous edifice he had often referred to as his second home most of his adult life. As second in command in control over Tanagura and the Syndicate, he was privy to the metallic echoes of Jupiter and her endless, suffocating rules as they hammered against his ears, causing fear to seed inside his very soul. How could he continue without Iason? The future seemed far too dismaying to allow even a single thought of a life without Iason Mink. He placed his bleeding palm against the window and again shouted his denial of the destruction that was before his eyes, but the outside world was oblivious to his desperate pleas.

Miles away at Dana Burn's burning ruins, the acting commander aimed and fired. The seven-foot thick metal door exploded as if it had been nothing more than the flimsiest sheet of paper yielding to the commander, who rushed in along with some of his team. Inside, the heat was excruciating. The conflagration he saw was worthy of Hell with preponderating flames dancing around the walls, turning metal into glowing, white sources of light and concrete into brittle, gray flakes that transformed into dust at the slightest touch. Gas was leaking into the cavity of this inferno, making the burning, abandoned complex an unreliable and even more dangerous death-trap, and the longer they remained inside, the less likely they would make it out of there alive. The air was so hot that the commander could no longer tell if the extreme sensations that made his skin crawl were of heat or of cold. His senses were confused and thoughts of not finding anyone alive grew stronger with every passing second. Apart from the consuming fire, he knew that there was a series of detonators set to turn this complex into sand within a few minutes. Eyes were desperately scanning the conflagration surrounding them and, finally, someone shouted through a communicator.

"There!"

The moisture from his breath diminished visibility within the mask of his respirator as tiny droplets condensed before his eyes. Behind all the condensation, he could just make out the fair hair of a Blondie swaying gently to the soft breeze generated by the heat inside. Sheltered and protected within the Blondie's arms, there was another person – but this one was not moving. Dark hair rested against the Blondie's shoulder, but the body was completely motionless. The rescue team rushed to pick up the wounded, dying couple. It was a daring suicide mission, but the Elite Raoul Am had been very specific about his orders. They were to retrieve them at any cost – even if it meant him having to bury nothing but their charred remains.

The younger one, a mongrel, was almost dead. Monitors were picking up faint remnants of a heartbeat, which was slowing down by the minute. He wouldn't have noticed if he had burned to death – he was beyond the conscious world and thus the commander contemplated if it would even be worth saving his life. On the other hand, the Blondie was still strong despite his massive blood loss due to severed legs. And although he was barely conscious, he refused to leave the flaming complex without his precious Pet. There was no time to argue. The Blondie seemed delirious, constantly asking for the mongrel, whose name was apparently Riki. The commander could not comprehend why anyone would bother to remember a slum-creature's name to the point where it settled so deeply into the mind that it was the only word spoken even in the face of Death. But that was not an issue which concerned him – his problem was how to get them and everyone else out immediately.

The Rescue Team acted quickly and even more so when the third detonation partly demolished the exit closest to their way out. Time was moving slowly and images blended with each other into an entangled web of the past, present and their tentative futures as they rushed through the flaming barrier to the promised cool air and safety outside. The medical unit was waiting just beyond the road leading in, but far enough away to not be affected by any more blasts. The commander recognized the flashing green light from their crafts that pierced through the curtain of smoke, reaching inside the depths of Hell to guide them to the cool world on the other side, back to life.

Dismayed, Raoul anxiously watched through binoculars as the burning complex turned into dust before his eyes. The next violent explosion shook his window and hit against the glass surface as a lasting vibration. He lingered breathlessly in front of the rattling glass, his senses sharpening as if he was desperately searching for a perception of Iason's restless spirit being carried on the edge of the convulsive wave. Raoul's soul was ripped in two by the mere thought of that portend of Iason's death.

He started shivering with a cold anguish until it happened, something that, as an Elite, he had never experienced before. As tears ran freely down his face and seeped through his perfect lips in silent mourning for his dearest friend, he backed away from the window with disbelief and savored the taste in his mouth by licking another salty drop that rested at the corner of his mouth. What was happening? He caught the flowing drops in his hands before they hit the ground and stared at the tiny pearls of fluid. He was swept away in panic and grief; so intense were his emotions. But as everyone knew, Blondies never cried. Just as the dread reached for a stranglehold on his very being, the communicator flashed on the massive, extravagant ebony desk and he rushed to answer it.

"Don't tell me…" he answered the aud-com hoarsely, but the air carrying the strength of his otherwise commanding voice faded and drowned in the pain inside his chest, and he had to bite his lip to regain his ability to talk. He began again, "Don't tell me they are dead." The hurt and fear inside was smothering him and ravaging his heart with vicious claws. It was a pain he had never before experienced and hoped to never feel again.

The explosion had sent a cloud of charged particles into the air, and made the communication distorted and weak with static interference. Raoul urged the commander to repeat his words and as soon as he was able to register the words "heal" and "centre", his heart leaped with hope as he turned and ran to his hover car. Heading directly to the Centre of Biosciences, which was housed at the nearest hospital, he drove in a daze of worry. However, he never missed a turn; he knew the way well because he worked there every day.


Iason was in a very bad shape. His scalp was badly burned and his long, flaxen hair remained in random patches along his scalp. The crusted surface of his distorted face was covered with blistered skin that had hardened and cracked like glass, leaving Iason's visage a monstrously swollen travesty. A horrible contradiction of features compared to his previous beauty. Blood seeped out of the crevices formed, and the healers were struggling to keep him alive. His severed legs were the least of their problems. If they could generate such a perfect being as Iason from a tube, then it would be no problem for them to restore a pair of lost limbs. The burns, however, would take time to heal and, though the necessary skin was already being cultured, it would take a while for the body to forget its tremendous physical assault and begin to heal.

Raoul leaned over Iason and whispered words of comfort. He wanted to seize Iason into a comforting embrace, but he was not allowed to make physical contact with him under any circumstances. Not now, at least. The healers carried him away and Raoul remained standing there alone, only to be interrupted by an impertinent, holographic-generated healer, asking about the effort the doctors were expected to put into saving the insignificant mongrel. Raoul turned to face the projected image.

"Where is he?"

The image hovered over the floor, leading Raoul through vast corridors and connected sectors to parts of the Centre he had never seen before. It seemed to take them ages to walk the distance to where Riki was being attended. Raoul approached the young man's motionless body. The muscles were slackened like that of a corpse and thus he appeared already dead as he lay on the stretcher. Concerned, Raoul asked about his condition.

"He's inhaled an alkaloid oxime-toxin and it has blocked the neuron transmitters to his synapses. His brain is not receiving any signals to start his heart and allow breathing."

Though the mechanized voice of the hologram was spewing words of science, it relayed a fairly comprehensive explanation of Riki's deteriorating health to the Blondie. Raoul, a scientist himself, was not unfamiliar with the medical terms, but he was impatient with the patronizing tone and so waved at the holographic healer to be silent. The decision was his to make. Iason was a Blondie and it was in the best interest of Tanagura and the Syndicate to keep him alive, but someone like Riki was a different issue. Exorbitant medical treatments would have to be paid for through private funding. Raoul brushed his pale face free of an annoying blond lock of hair that partly blocked his view of the unconscious boy involuntarily caught at the centre of attention. The boy completely oblivious to the decisions regarding the quintessential elements of his life, a life of vast importance to someone he loved dearly. Raoul watched the insignificant creature before him that was fading with every weakened breath, and decided.

"I'll pay for his treatment. Just make him well."

Yes. Riki had been Iason's most precious possession. Iason had terminated the passionate relationship he had once shared with Raoul, his equal in rank and superiority, in order to be with a despicable creature such as Riki. Raoul hated the mongrel, so much in fact that he wished himself strong enough to go back on his decision to save his life. But Raoul's love for Iason was greater than his hatred, and, in order to see his friend well again, he had to bring the mongrel back to health – Riki was the only means with which he could lure and nurture the great Iason Mink back to life. Raoul had been hoping that after all the fights and the punishments, Riki and Iason would part. Riki was an unusually stubborn and rude slave, and Iason had been unusually cruel to him in order to tame him. It had stolen three years of Iason's life and, finally, they were fused together like the core of the Sun – solid and burning with all the passion humanly possible to exude. Their heat destroyed everything else around them, seeding jealousy within Raoul as well as Guy, Riki's former lover. They had betrayed the people closest to them – only living and breathing for each other, no matter if the world shattered around them. Well, it finally did.

It was embarrassingly pathetic that such an Elite of society, the leader and most prominent of Amoi, should be so strongly attached to a rebellious nobody as that young boy. Raoul frowned at the thought. No, Riki wasn't so young either. He was already a year over twenty, which was extremely old for a Pet. Iason had refused to discuss with Raoul any details concerning his relationship with Riki, despite the fact that the two Blondies had once been very close and had shared virtually all of their secrets in the past, as well as a great part of their lives. They had been lovers and a strong team in politics.

That time was gone now, and Riki was the major reason why. Raoul should have refused to save his life. He turned to go back to the healers, but then turned around again. No! Riki must live! Raoul was finally ready to accept that he would never be close to Iason again, though he still found this thought devastating. But, not being able to see him again would be far worse and far crueller to endure. Raoul fought a fierce battle within to overcome the shame of losing the competition over Iason, let alone losing it to a mongrel. It was Raoul's shame, his burden and his cross to bear now that he had made the decision to bring them both back; but there was a far greater burden waiting in the outside world – to take over the task of Iason Mink, now that he was gone, dead to the world.


THIS IS THE BEGINNING. I HAVE SPENT QUITE SOME TIME WRITING IT, SO I WOULD APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD SPARE A FEW SECONDS TO JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY. OH, AND THANKS TO YOU GUYS WHO ALSO PICK UP THE WORST TYPOS AND HELP ME TO BETTER IT. I ALSO REPLY TO ALL REVIEWERS WHO HAVE AN EMAIL. YOU ARE ALL A GREAT HELP TO ME. MANY THANKS :)