I'm back with more. The idea for this particular story has been floating around in my head for so long that I had practically forgotten how it all started out. I've been dying to write it out for ages but just didn't think that I had the style to do the story justice. I still don't… but I figure if I don't try now, then I never will. Flame of Recca was one of the first anime series that I got hooked onto and it's remained my absolute favorite through the years. I never got to finish the series because %&%$*&% AXN decided to cut out the episodes after Fuuko's fight with Mikoto. So if this story cuts into or ignores any of the stuff that happens after, I'm really sorry but it wasn't my fault – blame AXN. Anyone who wants to review is more than welcome. I crave reviews the way a poet craves a pen. You could say it acts as my ink… keeps the story from running dry.

Disclaimer: - the sum total of my possessions is a grumpy neutered cat, a computer whose sole purpose is to make me lose my files and a ratty sweater that the cat insists on peeing on. If you want any of these, just let me know – you don't have to sue me to get any of them. I don't own Flame of Recca. Do you really think I'd be quite this grumpy if I did?

P.S. I'm on the hunt for a muse. Any suggestions?

Chapter 1.

   The arena is dark, practically pulsing with nervous energy and bloodlust. People scream in the stands, their faces contorting as they cheer the combat on. Some are screaming in fear as loved ones or team mates fall to those stronger, faster, smarter than them. Tears have chased rivers of blood for a while now. At times, though, the silence is more deafening than the screams. The end is approaching; the reason for this blood filled farce is coming to the surface. Hokage has battled its way steadily forward, dragging honor in its wake – the only team to achieve such fame. Having defeated their opponents in the semi-finals, they finally stand against the Uruha elite. Who would have thought that this team of youths, unhardened by actual battle would reach quite as far as they had? But almost all knew that they would fail in this final battle. In the matter of life or death, they would hesitate to spill blood and that sort of foolishness could not survive. Blood was the price for entry into the world of the Dark Marshal Combat.

   The screen flickered in the small room as a single man relived the events on the day. The glow from the sets cast an eerie, pale light upon an unmasked face, soothing the sight of the hideous burn. The unmarred cheek was propped against a slim, elegant hand as he stared pensively at the repeats upon the screen, the once prevalent mocking smile now conspicuously absent. Hokage was better than he had originally foreseen. The battle that would take place now would finally decide the events set in motion over four hundred years ago. After a day of rest, the finals would begin. And only one would be left standing in the end. Then he would finally know if he was less than the usurper, he would know whether the elders had been right about him not being a fit vessel for the flame.

   But no one said that precautions couldn't be taken. He would study every move, every emotion that passed the face of that hated half-brother. He would discover all his weak points and use them to his own means. Survival of the fittest was the rule for the day and he intended to survive. He was better than that stupid brat - he did not let emotions rule his thoughts. Only once had he made that mistake and it would never be repeated. To love, to feel, was to invite pain and betrayal. His heart was stone cold and he intended for it to remain that way. But emotions in others allowed them to be lead, to be exploited. To find the controlling emotion was the only key… and so he spent his time reliving each moment until it was drained of whatever knowledge he could find. He noted the expressions on the face of the healing girl as well. He could use those as well to tame the Hokage when the time arrived. It was obvious that she was the weak link in the chain. They were protecting her because she could do nothing for herself. How ironic, when she held the greatest power among them.

   He was about the leave for the night when a face at the edge of the screen caught his eye. Half hidden behind the crowd cheering for the wind girl was a face. Filled with dismay, it was looking at the arena. Her eyes, the only truly visible parts now, were filled with horror and tears, her hands covered her mouth as if to hold in the choked sobs that her shoulders were shaking with. Her hair was tied back but it held the same glossy sheen, the same silky straightness that he remembered running through his fingers. Arrested, he gazed in disbelief at the face that haunted his nights. There was no possibility that it could be her, and yet the evidence was staring him in the face. She was standing up shakily now and looking almost directly into the camera. He could have sworn she was looking right at him except for the vacant, pre-occupied look in her eyes. She stumbled towards the exit, half blinded by tears and disappeared off screen.

   Struck dumb and motionless, he dropped back into the chair as his knees gave way beneath him. The tape continued as it focused on the remainder of the fight. His eyes remained glued to the screen but his mind was fixed on that moment.  The memories assailed him as the imagined smell of roses filled his nostrils.

Kurei, I'm so glad that you decided to join me! Isn't this rose beautiful?

It's just a rose. I don't care about it one way or another. I could grind it beneath the heel of my shoe if I so wished.

But we should protect beauty. After all, it's the only thing that makes life truly worth living, isn't it?

A different voice now.

I want you to lose all your useless emotions. I thought you had learned that by now but it appears that I need to teach you a lesson. Watch. Watch your beloved die.

NO!

   Surfacing from his memories, Kurei jerked out of his chair, a remembered shout still ringing in his ears. His burn throbbed and he rubbed at it absently as he rewound the tape. He was certain that it was she and yet it couldn't have been. His stomach twisted in an agony of tension as the tape slowly wound it's way back to that moment. And then, her face was on the screen again, looking out with stark desolation in her eyes. He couldn't see what her eyes were looking at but it was obviously enough to move her to tears. The expression was hauntingly familiar, bringing back feelings that he had thought buried years ago. He knew she was dead, he had watched the life leave her body. He had converted that same body into the form of his flame, he could feel her form resting within him… and yet, evidence to the contrary was staring him in the face, literally.

He would have to get to the bottom of this. Pressing a button, his call was immediately answered. In clipped words he ordered her found and brought to him, at all costs. He would get to the bottom of this mess. He would not be toyed with and if this was a trick, the perpetrators would feel his wrath. Briefly the thought passed his mind that his father may have set this moment up as another test. The anger that followed that thought caused his hand to glow brightly blue in suppressed rage. If this was a test, then he would know, but now there was only one thought to dominate his mind.

Had Kurenai returned to him?

Author's note: - feel free to leave constructive criticism if you wish. All reviews are welcome. Vanilla Fox, if you read this, this was the story I had talked about. Silver celeste, I finally got around to writing it. Yay me! To everyone else, thank you for reading this far. If anyone could let me know who it was that Hokage fought before the finals versus Uruha scarlet I'd be really grateful. Thank you all.

As always I remain,

(evil and) diabolique.