The rain fell monotonously, its steady rhythm becoming the heartbeat of the city, coupling with the ever-present hum of nightly noises. Streetlights wavered in misty puddles as shadowed cars disappeared in and out of sight.

A petite silver-haired girl was the only variation in the steadiness of the night as she leaned against an alley wall heavily, gasping for breath. Her silvery blond hair had been ripped out of her traditional hairstyle and hung down to her knees in sopping, stringy waves. The jeans and denim jacket she wore were soaked through and so torn up that it was obvious she had been in a fight.

As she squeezed her eyes shut in pain she could be heard repeating the same phrase over and over again.

"I've got to keep moving… I can't stop. I have to keep moving…" Her whispers went unnoticed by the rest of the night as she slipped into the shadows, vanishing.

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Rain poured down onto the concrete, washing the city of dirt and rubbish. A young man stepped into a shallow puddle but kept moving, not even noticing. He was walking slowly and calmly, despite the time of night and the neighborhood he was in. Though he seemed relaxed and his eyes were steady as they watched his feet, he was constantly aware of his surroundings and aware of every movement around him.

He didn't seem angry or sad as he walked in the rain… his eyes simply were blank, as if his thoughts were not his own and he rarely felt the need to express his opinion. A dark waterproof jacket and a sweater were his only protection against the downpour. His dark hair was soaked and dripped even more water into his faced as he trudged through the storm.

Shouts and the sound of running drifted to him, cutting through the rain.

Normally he would have ignored the obvious indication of a bar-fight and continued on his way but something happened then that he didn't expect. A girl abruptly ran out of the alley up ahead of him, closely followed by three large men staggering after her; obviously drunk.

The girl limped badly as she ran and the men were quickly gaining on her. The boy watched, frozen, as she approached him, obviously not seeing him as she glanced behind her at her pursuers. She didn't realize he was in front of her until she collided with him.

"Oh!" she cried in fear, the jolt of contact making her stumble into the unknown person.

The young man quickly grabbed her, stopping her fall. He looked at her face for the first time as he held her. Her sliver hair washed over his arms, framing a perfect, heart-shaped face and sweetly tiny features. She couldn't have been taller than 5'4". Her eyes, which she now opened as she realized she wasn't on the ground, were a crystalline blue; one that reminded him of the sky right on the edge of space or of the ocean glinting in the sun. As he looked deeply into her eyes he realized she was staring back at him with a mixture of fear and intense distrust.

"Hey! Get your own play-girl, buddy! She's ours!" a harsh voice pierced through the rain.

The girl shivered and coughed harshly, instantly alerting the boy who held her that she was already sick. Now that he was aware of it he could feel the heat rolling off of her skin in waves, despite the cold rain. She must have been out in the storm for some time to get into that condition.

The boy gently placed her on her feet and pushed her behind him. He got into a defensive stance.

The three men grinned and laughed.

"Oi! The buddy boy here wants to fight us for 'er!"

"We'll show him who owns theses streets…" the second one added.

The boy simply waited for them to charge toward him blindly, as he was sure such drunken men would.

"Get him!" shouted the third one. They lunged at him.

In a flurry of kicks and punches they were all on the ground. The boy turned, wondering if the girl had stuck around, only to look into the barrel of a gun.

The man holding it chuckled, "I'll show you what happens to anyone who hurts my friends."

BANG.

The boy opened his eyes to see the man in front of him crumpled at his feet, blood slowly flowing around him and mixing with rain. Looking up he was met with the sight of the silver-haired girl holding a gun in one hand, shaking badly as she stared back at him, her eyes glazed over.

The gun clattered to the ground and the girl fell with it, coughs racking her body as she kneeled on the cold street, hands pressed to her chest and mouth. The boy slowly moved toward her and watched for the exact moment when her body relaxed. He caught her up in his arms as she finally lost consciousness.