Hey there! Thanks for checking out my story, I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH, or Alias, from which I got the basic idea of the main charrie's past.


A six-year-old girl, a bundle of invincible energy with a heart the size of Texas, walked into the white room. She was being led by a man in a suite. She didn't like him much, he smelled like smoke and his hands were rough. He led her to a low table with a plastic red bin sitting on it. Around it were identical tables, all occupied by other children her age with their guides standing behind them. A man entered through a door at the front of the room. The girl blinked. The door looked just like part of the white wall. The man was very tall, with tanned, leather skin and black hair and he wore dark glasses, even though he was indoors. He stood straight against the wall and adjusted the tie of his blue suit. He nodded once. As one the guides of the fifteen children leaned forward and whispered to them in their native languages. Her own guide leaned forward and spoke to her in puffs of air that smelled like smoke.

"Close your eyes and reach into the bin. Put together what you find there as quickly as you can and do as you've been taught."

The girl nodded and did as she was told. Closing her eyes, #2 stuck her pale hands into the bin. She felt what was there and smiled. She remembered this, they had been taught this just last week. She quickly did as she remembered, not messing up once. Around her, the other children were doing the same.

Exactly ten seconds after the man in front of the room had nodded, the children simultaneously pulled their assembled guns from the bins and pointed them at the ceiling. The man cleared his throat and said, "Fire."

Again, synchronized, the children fired their bullets of reiki energy into the ceiling, an explosion of color that was their different colored reiki. #2's own energy was a pearly white, and her bullet left a neat round hole in the ceiling that she didn't see, as her eyes were still obediently closed.

The man at the front allowed himself a small smile. "Excellent. You are all coming along very well.".

The children, #1 through #15, glowed with pride.


Ten years later, #2, or as she called herself, Yang, was standing in an alley, a ghost in front of her. The poor thing was terrified out of its mind, or what was left of it. Yang felt no sympathy for it; she knew that what had caused its terror was not herself. In fact, if the ghost knew what she was about to do, it would fall upon its knees and thank her. But, as it was, she'd had to chase it half-way across the world to finally corner it. #s 10, 1, and 14 were on the other side of each of the walls, feeding their reiki into the bricks to stop the ghost from phasing through. Yang (#2) was feeding her energy into the ground through her bare feet. Her gun, pearly white and made out of her spirit energy (the more permanent type), was held in a tea-cup grip, pointed at the ghost as it cowered in the corner.

"Mr. Micheler?" She asked softly. The ghost nodded dumbly, non-corporeal tears running down its face.

"Rest in peace." And she pulled the trigger. Her bullet, faster than even one without real form could dodge, lodged itself into the ghost's forehead. For a short time, the ghost appeared to have three eyes. Then, in a puff of grey light, the ghost vanished from the world to which it no longer belonged. Yang sighed and re-holstered her gun at her waist, leaving her black jacket-sweater to fall forward and conceal it.

((Okay you guys, all done here.)) #2 communicated internally, using the microscopic chip network that had been implanted into all their skulls.

((Already? After all that, it took only one shot? How anti-climactic.)) Grumbled #14, a wide-eyed Asian girl.

((Ain't that how tal' always is?)) #10 thought back, pulling his reiki back out of the wall.

((I know! )) #1's thoughts were always overly-loud. (( When are we gonna get real assignments?))

((That was a real assignment, #1)) Yang thought back as she turned down the alley to meet up with the others. ((Stopping a leak is important to the Agency.))

((Please.)) 1's sarcastic thought stung Yang's mind, threatening to give her a headache. ((The ten-year-olds could have handled this one.))

((Possibly,)) Yang thought, smiling. (( But then it's their loss because...))

((They don't get to explore Tokyo!)) #14, Yang's closest friend, finished for her.

((Hey, yeah! We don't have to get back to the good ol' US of A 'till next week, now do we?)) #10's southern-accented thought was bursting with delight. ((I always wanted to try me out one of those squid-dishes.))

They met up at the mouth of the alley, #14 emerging from the music shop on the left, #1 and #10 coming from the bookstore on the right. As she put on her shoes, #2 took a moment to survey them.

#14 was Asian, with dark skin and black, slanted eyes. What her grave appearance failed to tell of was her bubbly enthusiasm and over-all optimistic nature. #10 was very tanned, and some might of called him handsome. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed, and had picked up his southern accent during his five-year stay down in Mississippi, from which he had only returned a year ago. #1 was imposing, to say the least. He was the tallest of the Fifteen, and had hair so dark, it was almost blue in certain lights. His eyes were a steel grey, like the over-cast skies of a winter day. The dark coloring of his hair and eyes stood out in stark contrast with his pale, pale skin. The last of the current group, Yang herself, had brown hair that some people insisted was almost black, but others saw it as a near dirty-blond. Yang had never decided herself. Her eyes were a blue-brown, seeming to shift depending on what she wore. Her overall non-descriptness was what had first gotten her recruited into 'the Agency', as the Fifteen called it.

"Right, then."#1 said, automatically taking over. "On to the restaurants."