Prologue: Ryoushi

It was an accident.

With the males, it always was an accident. Just the slightest of slips could cause an Awakening, and after the first one went, the organization began forcing the male warriors to travel in packs so they could easily eliminate anyone who Awakened unexpectedly. For a long time, the organization's plan worked; no Awakened One's spent more than an hour in the world.

Until a "sensor" escaped.

There was one coming at his back, trying to pierce the apparently unprotected flesh, but he whipped around, too fast to track, and blocked the strike with his claws, trying not to think about who he was attacking as he lashed out, severing the warrior in two before he turned right back around and continued running. His thick fur was insulating him from the extreme cold as he went higher and higher into the mountains of Alphons, but the Claymores behind him had no such protective covering, though they could use their youki to warm themselves. That warmth would only last as long as their energy did, however, and he could tell they were running out.

He wasn't the best of the sensors for nothing.

'I'm sorry, Aldaron,' the Awakened One thought as he raced higher into the range, deeper into the northern snows, 'I am so sorry.'

He had been raised in Alphons, but no human or Claymore had ever gone this far north, almost to the top of the world, and it was very clear that even the Claymores would have to give up pursuit or die in the snow –

One fell.

He stopped some distance away, sniffing the air hesitantly. Though the cold stung his sensitive nose, he detected traces of the Claymores' scents and, suppressing his youki as far down as it would go, prowled back down the mountain to where the hanyoma had stopped.

Dacien, the weakest of the group, Number 38, was on the ground, shivering violently in the cold, and the others were trying to convince him to get up, so they could return to chasing Ryoushi. The Awakened One silently hunkered down to wait. If they continued after him (as he privately suspected they would, now that Sunsaku was leading), it would be up to him to save his former comrade. None of them would be able to detect him if he kept his youki fully suppressed like he had trained himself to do for his fighting style.

But there was one thing that was bothering him as he crouched there in the snow…

'Why haven't I forgotten as all of the others did? I still know my team, but according to the reports of other warriors I know, their Awakened teammates didn't recognize them after they were rogue…'

Sunsaku was leading the remainder of the team into the mountains to finish the hunt, even though it was already over, and once he could no longer smell them, Ryoushi padded down the slope and gently nudged the shivering form with his nose. Dacien responded weakly, so the Awakened One picked him up in him jaws, careful not to injure the Claymore while simultaneously noticing that he smelled –and tasted – terrible. He looked around before starting toward a not-quite-cave hollowed out by the snow, dropping his comrade inside and carefully maneuvering his large body so that he blocked the worst of the wind, taking stock of his new appearance as he did so.

He was some bizarre hybrid between a wolf and a dragon, with a furred upper body, neck, and head, but as one moved towards his extremities, the fur became scarcer as scales began to take its place. Powerful talons tipped his fingers and toes, and he still had five of them at the end of each limb, though their positions had changed on his feet: spread out to provide more balance if he chose to ear up on two legs. Walking (or running) on four was more comfortable, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to expose his vulnerable stomach to any foes.

There was a groan as Dacien stirred, lying curled against Ryoushi's furry chest, the Awakened One's long, prehensile tail draped over the Claymore's form to provide extra warmth, and Ryoushi glanced warily down at the warrior. Dacien was smart; he didn't take on yoma that he could not handle. But what would he do if he was the only one who could take him out…?

In the distance, another Claymore fell victim to the cold; Hankou, this time. He would be dead by the time Ryoushi could reach him even if he ran as fast as he could, so Ryoushi stayed where he was as the last two, Sunsaku and Houshito, fell onto the ice, never to rise again.

Dacien stirred, finally, and peered around, freezing when he saw the fur covering his body. "Umm… Ryoushi-san?"

"Yes?"

The lower-ranked number winced at his superior's distorted voice. "Why did you save me?"

"…I don't know. I know that you're … you're not my enemy. So I won't hurt you."

"Oh." The Claymore seemed confused. "Wait, you still remember me…?"

"Yes." Ryoushi got to his feet. "Get up," he said, "I'm taking you south. The others went ahead without you."

"South?"

"No, north. They left you behind. Gather your gear." Ryoushi padded out into the snow over to where the Claymore had fallen and swiftly dug through the layers that had formed over the sword and pack. Dacien hesitated before pacing over and kneeling to pick up his stuff, saying, "The others are dead, aren't they."

'He always was too perceptive.' "Yes. Aldaron by my own hand, the others by the cold. As you almost were."

"Oh." Aldaron had always been cruel to Dacien, so he was no loss in the Claymore's eyes, but Houshito had been his friend, someone who watched his back even though he felt he didn't deserve it.

"There is no use in you dying with them, letting yoma consume humans in your absence. Take their places; become stronger and make them proud of you." Ryoushi twitched his tail and stood between the hanyoma and the driving wind, wondering absently what human guts tasted like, now that they were his food source.

"Sir?"

Ryoushi blinked. Dacien was ready to go, all of his gear packed and ready, and the Awakened One sighed. "You're not going to be able to keep up with me so get on," he said, couching so that Dacien could climb onto his back, "And don't call me sir."

After almost a full week of running, the unusual duo finally reached the edge of the northern lands, and Ryoushi forced himself back into human form, despite the presence of a Claymore, who could potentially kill him. Dacien obligingly looked away as he pulled on the extra uniform that the hanyoma had before he truly got a good look at his former comrade.

He looked exactly as he had as a human: short brown hair, brown eyes, and a strong face. Ryoushi would never be able to be mistaken for anything but a warrior, but that was not necessarily a good thing. Like Priscilla in the future, he had been slated to become the Number One, but now that was out of his reach forever. No Awakened One would ever hold a Number, and Alicia did not count; she could return to her hanyoma state without losing her mind.

Dacien reluctantly looked away from his long-time and now-Awakened friend, saying, "I guess this is good bye."

"Yes. Next time we meet, it will be on a battlefield." The nonhuman held out his hand, and they shook. "I wish you luck."

And then he was gone.

Ryoushi immediately headed south, to hide amongst the incredible proliferation of yoma in that area, but the organization immediately suspected that he had escaped from his executors when Dacien returned alone and was confirmed to be unAwakened. The hanyoma told them the truth, and they dispatched a special team of hunters to pursue the Awakened One, but he was never found. They never suspected that he had settled down in a little town called Intore, several miles outside of Polina, serving as their sword smith. Because Intore was relatively large for a town period, but small for one along a main trading route, he was able to hide undetected in the city while having a large area and variety of prey to hunt.

During his early years, he was forced to hunt almost every day in neighboring towns, ranging for miles to hide his presence and hiding the bodies of those he killed in towns miles away, drawing suspicion away. As the years went on, however, he need to hunt decreased from once a day to once a week, then to once a month, and he was able to suppress his youki into virtual nonexistence; only his smell would give him away, but any Claymore that got that close would be dead.

He had done another service for his town, though; because he was there, yoma tended to avoid the area after almost thirty of them vanished under mysterious circumstances.

Ryoushi brought the hammer down on the steel that he was forging into a blade, careful not to hit the areas that he'd already struck to prevent the need for excess hits later. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was the quality of his swords (and the fact that he had remained hidden so long). As he worked, being watched by several of Intore's children, there was a cry from the town square, causing all of the temporary residence of the town's blacksmith to look up and peer out of the former stable.

Another pained cry caused the children to go running for their mothers, but the feel of a powerful youki caused Ryoushi to abandon the half-forged sword in favor of a claymore like blade on one of the walls. His own claymore was hidden inside his house, and it would have been extremely unwise to have it on display, so he had been forced to make a "flimsy" replacement.

'A yoma?' he thought as he ran toward the town square, forced to fight the crowd attempting to escape, 'No… its youki is too strong for that. Is it like me…?'

He burst into the courtyard and beheld a bizarre, birdlike being tearing at a human corpse, and instantly the hunger struck. He fought through it, shouting, "Oi! Teme!"

The Awakened One instantly looked up and shrieked its rage at the interruption of its meal, tearing toward the blacksmith, but he dodged the strike, managing to look like he was truly struggling against the yoma despite the fact that he sliced off its left arm in one move. He tucked and rolled as the Awakened One screeched angrily, and it was but a moment more before it charged again, swiping at him with a wing. However, he spun out of the way, hacking off its head from behind. One of its claws managed to graze his arm as it fell, but that was the only injury he received.

"It's okay," he called, "The yoma's dead now."

A particularly brave merchant poked his head out of his shop and, seeing the headless corpse, said, "It doesn't look like any yoma I've ever seen."

"I know." Ryoushi frowned down at it. "I think they're breeding freaks now." Then he snorted. "Not that that's much of a change."

The merchant laughed, and other people began emerging from their homes at the sound. It wasn't long before the whole town was celebrating, but Ryoushi insisted that it was nothing, saying, "My old home had a near-constant problem with yoma because it was large and on a crossroads. I got to see a lot of claymore fighting the yoma, so I knew that all I had to do was get up behind it and hack off its head. Even yoma can't exist without a head."

Regardless of his wishes, the town threw him a party and courted him for blades more often than the traveling smiths from other towns. After about ten years staying there, Ryoushi moved on before the citizens noticed the fact that he didn't age. The next town when he lived was Rabona, the holy city, an easy place to hide in, as no claymore were permitted in the city, but still… He hunted elsewhere.

It felt sacrilegious, the Awakened One mused as he walked, hooded and cloaked, down one of the clean streets, for a monster like him to be living in the shadow of the most holy of cathedrals. It was not unusual for him to wander the city at night, especially when the beast within was feeling particularly volatile because of something that happened that day. One of the prostitutes had tried to seduce him shortly before "dinner," and now his beast wanted to take her up on the offer, but with a "change of game."

He sighed quietly, stopping his feet as they attempted to take him to her, instead heading for the city's wall. It was a simple matter to leap the twenty-foot barrier and drop down into the forest on the other side, already sprinting towards the nearest town with his youki pressed down into nonexistence, no matter how much had wanted to flare it to high heaven to announce his presence. He entered the town, Khial, just as the unsavory persons were emerging from the shadows of the alleys between buildings.

He was tempted to accept the first offer given, but his beast had other ideas, so for once, he let it guide him through the streets and alleys, moving with utter silence until he came upon a whorish female sprawled out in the shadow of a pub, unmistakably unconscious, and he knelt beside her, teeth sharpening of their own accord as he leaned over to make the first bite –

The flesh was warm and soft in his mouth, bloody, tasty, and he forced himself to chew and swallow even as his hands wrapped around the woman's throat, strangling her to prevent her from ever waking and disturbing his meal. His conscious self stepped back and let the beast take control of the feeding, still forcing it to go slow so that it didn't make noise that would draw villagers, but fast enough to where he would be able to return to the city before the sun rose.

Ryoushi finished without anyone noticing him and collected the body, dumping it in the river a short distance outside the town before washing away the blood with a bucket of water, leaving no evidence behind.

It was only a year later when the organization announced that it was going to start making female claymores because the males turned into yoma too fast, and he watched as the males were executed and the females took their places. Isley had Awakened a year or so after he had, so Ryoushi had briefly gone to visit him in the north. It had been great to catch up on old times, but they couldn't stay in the same place together; their strengths were almost equally matched, and they both had the instincts of an Alpha male. Ryoushi obligingly left the Silver King's territory after one month there, only staying long enough to warn him of Rigaldo's arrival before returning to his home in Rabona.

He was in the midst of moving to another city when he saw a claymore sprinting through the trees. She was wearing the uniform of a trainee, but Ryoushi couldn't see a trainer anywhere. 'An escapee,' he thought and ignored her until she spoke to him.

"Hey!"

He stopped, surprised that a hanyoma would address a stranger, but turned to face her just the same. "Yes? What can I do for you, miss?"

"You… why do you have a youki? You're a male. Are you a yoma?"

He froze for a moment, shocked. 'She's a sensor,' he realized, 'like me.' "You… can feel my youki?"

"Yes, but it's very small. Are you a yoma?"

"…no. Not in the sense that you think." He hesitated, then said, "What's your name?"

"Teresa," she said, stepping more clearly into view. She was unarmed, and he had his original claymore over his back, but still, he was wary of her, as any self-respecting yoma would be. When she steeped toward him, he took a step back, and she didn't attempt to advance again. "What are you, then, if you aren't exactly a yoma?"

He pulled back slightly, and she herself took a step back. It was clear that she was curious about him and wanted to know what he was, but he didn't trust her. The female claymores were so different from the males; they were more restrained, more controlled, and there was no telling how much more it took to make them Awaken. "I don't know what the term is. I was a claymore during the male era."

"An Awakened One?" She looked even more inquisitive. "What is Awakening like? Do you ever regret the fact that you're no longer human? Do you really eat guts like a yoma?"

Her multitude of questions made him laugh. "I don't remember much about my Awakening, but I do know that it was an accident, and yes, I regret it every moment. I do have to eat guts to survive, but I only eat criminals and the scum of the earth and such."

"You have more control over yourself than the Awakened Ones I've heard about." Teresa cocked her head. "What's your name?"

"Ryoushi. I'm a sensor from the 45th male generation, warrior 133."

"Oh! I've heard of you! You were the first Awakened One to escape the execution squad!" She brightened visibly before taking on a confused expression. "What's a sensor, by the way?"

"It's someone who specializes in detecting yoma aura, like you. Any other Claymore wouldn't be able to sense me; they could only tell if they got close enough to smell me or saw me feeding."

"Oh." She appeared to think for a moment. "Could you teach me how to sense more effectively?"

"Why would I do that?" he asked, continuing on his way, "You could just as easily hunt me down and kill me when you become a full fledged warrior."

"I wouldn't do that!" She jogged after him but kept a fair distance between them, showing that she was at least subconsciously thinking about his comfort. "I'd owe you for teaching me; it wouldn't be fair to use what you taught me against you."

"Life's not fair, Teresa."

"Then why haven't you killed me?"

Ryoushi stopped in his tracks.

"I know that you exist, and what you feel like. Even without your teachings, I could lead other, stronger Claymore to you."

He turned back to look at her. She was standing firmly in the road, arms crossed over her chest, feet planted in the packed dirt; the very image of stubborn determination. The wind plucked at her wavy hair, pulled back into a ponytail as it was, and it was obvious that she was not just going to let him go.

"…Fine."

"Yes!" She sprang after him and led him to a small clearing about three miles off the road, where she said, "This is where I come when I'm escaping from the trainers. Did you ever run away?"

"No." He peered around at the clearing, slipping off his hood. "I was too busy trying to learn how to kill yoma. I lost my whole family to them."

"Really?" At his nod, Teresa said, "So did I. That seems to be a common story amongst the claymores."

He pulled off his cloak and pack, setting them against a tree near the entrance of the clearing, before rustling through his bag and pulling out a claymore replica. "Here," he said, tossing it to her, "If I'm going to teach you, I need to know your strengths and weaknesses first."

Teresa completed his jury-rigged training in the "Art of Sensing" a week later, shortly before the organization was able to track her down. Ryoushi made himself scarce when that happened, scattering to Intore again. Everyone who had known him when he first lived there was long dead, so he judged it safe to return. There was a brief, almost microscopic scuffle with the resident yoma before he killed it and dumped its body in the river (that seemed to be a trend with him. After all, the water washed away all scent), and he settled down, once again, as a blacksmith specializing in swords.

He spent three years working there before Teresa showed back up again, this time with a little girl at her side. He sensed her outside the town and was already preparing to flee when a yoma from a town across the river charged in and took a hostage from the villagers: a boy, barely more than six years old.

Ryoushi lunged for his claymore and prepared to sprint towards and attack the yoma, but Teresa beat him to the punch. He sensed her whip off the cloak that she was wearing to hide her appearance, so he reluctantly placed his claymore back in its box and went out to the place where the fight was about to end. The yoma dropped the boy and charged the Claymore, but Teresa hacked it in half before it could get a strike in, the separate halves falling to the ground. She sheathed her blade, and he sensed her interacting with the villagers, but at the same time, four youki appeared at the very edge of his range, three normal and one so low that it was almost undetectable.

After a bit, he sensed her leaving the building where she was now staying and beginning to "wander" the town, meandering in his general direction, giving him ample time to escape if he chose. However, he couldn't sense any malicious intent from her, so he permitted her to arrive at his shop.

"You seem to be doing rather well," she commented as she entered the building, looking around at the variety of blades hanging from and propped up against the walls.

"I try to make up for the lives I take," he said, wiping off his hands with a rag, "That yoma came from the town across the river."

"You didn't clear it out?"

"It popped up earlier today. I was planning on taking care of it after nightfall." He smiled bitterly. "Less likelihood of being seen or recognized." He set the rag down on his workbench and gestured for her to follow. Ryoushi led her into the residential section of his dwelling, offering her a seat at his table.

"I'm sure you can sense my execution squad, even if I can't," she said without ceremony. Both of them valued expediency. "I want you to take care of the girl who's traveling with me if I don't make it."

Ryoushi choked on the cup of water that he had poured for himself, staring at Teresa as if she had told him that she was planning on taking over the world. "What? You do realize that you're asking an Awakened One to look after its food source, right?"

"I trust you not to kill her."

The nonhuman sighed. "And there's nothing I can say to convince you otherwise." He stood up and walked over to a window that overlooked the town. "There are four of them, three normal, one so low that you might not be able to detect it. Possible the top three after you and a powerful trainee."

"Irene, Noel, and Sophia. And the trainee whose aura is almost nonexistent?" Teresa appeared to think for a moment. "I remember something about one, but her name escapes me."

"They must intent to use her so that you can't detect her."

"Hmm." Teresa stood and turned away.

"You could leave the girl with me and run. Come back and get her when it's safe," Ryoushi suggested.

The claymore shook her head. "She wouldn't stay. I'll have to fight them." She looked up at him. "Could you be there? For morale support?"

He sighed. "If that's what you want. I doubt they'll notice me."

She nodded. "Thank you. It means a lot."

"Despite the fact that we're supposed to be enemies?"

"Even more so because of that."

She returned to the hotel, and he followed at a distance, always within sight. It was scant minutes after she returned that the execution squad entered the village, and Ryoushi kept close to the building as they arrived. It was not long before Teresa came leaping out the window, and a claymore calling herself Priscilla stepped forward, saying that the hunters had come for Teresa's head. The number one ordered Clare away and was visibly relieved when he stepped up next to the child. They could do nothing but watch as Teresa fought all of the other hanyoma, and the fight was going well –

Until Priscilla released her youki.

Ryoushi felt it as Teresa died and silently walked out to the place where her body was. Clare was crying and clutching the dead woman's head to her body, but she looked up when he approached, still sobbing. He knelt next to her and cocked his head. "Teresa asked me to take care of you in the event that she didn't make it. Come back to my house, and we can decide what to do from there. And yes, if you feel the need, you may keep her head with you. We can bury her body tonight."

Clare sniffled and took his hand, still holding Teresa's head tight, and he led her back into the city without being seen and made her a cup of warm tea once they returned to his house. He sat down across from her and waited for her to speak.

"…are you…"

Ryoushi looked up from his tea to find her peering at him. "Pardon?"

"…What are you?"

His eyebrows shot up. 'She is as perceptive as Teresa,' he thought, 'Even without the ability to sense youki, she instinctively recognizes me as something alien. Perhaps I should tell her something like the truth.' Aloud, he said, "A long time ago, I was a male claymore. I made friends with Teresa about three years ago, while she was still training, which is why she brought you here. She wanted me to look after you until it was safe for her to come back and get you." He relaxed his expression and cocked his head. "Now that she is… no longer with us, I believe that you should be permitted to decide your fate. What would you like to do?"

Clare looked down at Teresa's head for a long moment, examining her closed eyes, her silken hair, her flawless face. It was almost fifteen minutes before she spoke again. "Help me find one of the men in black."