A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of the first installment of our sprawling Noragami AU, or as we've called it Holitsugami (get it, Holic, Tsubasa, Noragami... eh? eh?) It has been a year long project, following semi-canon events, telling the tale of the main characters of the CLAMP universe as gods, spirits, and humans, protecting the human world from all things otherworldly.

Hello! So Ari (Arisprite), Rémy (names are hard guys on and username_goes_here on AO3) and I have been plotting this since last January, and we have much written in both sides of the story, this Tsubasa side, and the xxxHolic side which you can find on Ari's , our AO3 accounts where we have the series set up, and on our individual tumblrs.

We encourage you to read both sides of the story, as, like xxxHolic and Tsubasa themselves, the two stories will be sisters, with intertwining parts, and plots.

This is the first story of three. Probably.

Also, Kurogane's name in this is Youou, and there is a reason for that.

Please let us know if there are any warnings we need to use. Characters are spirits, and so, are dead, but we're not tagging character death... unless they actually disappear from the story. But, things may get dark, and I'd hate to upset anyone. However, be aware this story is rated T for reasons.

Where am I? The boy thought as he lay on the hard ground, light illuminating red against his closed eyelids. Who am I?

There was nothing in his mind, just a vacuum of blank space where his memories should have been. It scared him and he shut his eyes tighter, trying to hide from that void.

Although, he did know things. General information, such as language and speech. He knew the heat of the daylight in this desert world, and he knew that when the sun set it would become frigid. These things weren't memories, there was nothing specific to him, or any indication that he'd ever learned these things. They were simply there, facts ingrained into his brain. But the lack of memories didn't make sense. Somehow he knew he should have them but… didn't.

He opened his eyes to the brightness of the sun. Dust streamed in the rays of light through the splintered wood and rubbled rocks above and around him. Sitting up, he observed that he was sitting in some sort of quarry, caved in on itself. There were steep walls surrounding him as he sat at the bottom of a deep pit. There were bits of debris and sand in his hair and on his robe. He brushed them off as he took in the larger rocks and beams scattered around him and the distance above, Had he fallen? Had the structure collapsed underneath him? He didn't know, but if it had, he'd been very lucky.

Or had he?

He pushed the thought away, feeling fear settling into him for reasons he didn't understand. Standing, the white robe tied around him draped down, brushing the top of his bare feet and the sharp rocks on the ground dug into them. He ignored that and looked up the steep walls. Sitting alone in the musty shadows would get him nowhere. He needed more information and his questions needed answering. And to do that, he needed to find someone. Anyone. Trying to shove the uneasy fear from his mind, he grasped the wall and began to climb.

It hurt as he shoved his bare feet into makeshift footholds, his fingers scraping the wall. The boy ignored it and continued upward. He had to get out, get his bearings. Do something. Pausing to catch his breath, he leaned his head against his hand, which was still gripping the wall. As he moved to climb again, the fingers of that hand caught his eye. Or, that is to say, the lack of fingers. At each tip, they were semi-translucent; the rock wall behind easily visible through them.

Startled, he let go without thinking. He fell the few feet he'd already climbed and landed on his back to the ground again. He gasped, the unsettled dust flying around him as he tried to catch his breath. He stared up at the blue sky until it stopping spinning.

I don't belong here, He realized acutely. The world in which he lay was the world of the living. But he wasn't. He knew that somehow. Whatever life he'd had was gone from him. It had ended before he'd woken in this pit.

I'm dead? Fear returned as he squinted at the high sun. It groped at his insides and made tears fall down his face. He lifted his arm, covering his eyes. How?

Why?

After a few minutes, he sat up again and wiped his face dry. He looked up the wall with determination. He had no idea what was going on, but dead or alive he was still at the bottom of this pit. Alone and without answers. He needed to act, to move. Grasping the wall once more, he began to climb.

The wall was high, taller than he'd entirely expected. Standing at the bottom had skewed the true perspective. Despite being dead, his toes and fingers were bleeding a little, his muscles shaking. But he pressed on, set on that ledge above him.

Just as he grasped it, a hand appeared in front of him, open to aid him. He tried to look up to see their face, but the sun shone from behind them, obscuring the features. Without another thought, he reached up and grasped the small hand. Together with the stranger, he hauled himself the rest of the way from the cliff edge.

He collapsed on the ground, panting. As he was catching his breath, he nearly forgot about the person who'd helped him up the last bit. That is, until the person began patting his back comfortingly. He rolled over and got to his knees, looking up at them. The person was a girl, not more than sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was a light reddish-brown, gold strands shining in the sun and dry desert breeze. Her green eyes shone just as bright, if not more luminously. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Are you alright?"

For a moment, all he could do was stare. Sure, he hadn't seen much, but she was more breathtakingly beautiful than anything he could imagine. In response to her question, he nodded mutely.

"Your hands! And your feet!" She exclaimed. She reached out and pulled his hand out to examine his torn up fingertips. "We'll have to get these bandaged right away!"

He blinked, feeling his face heat up at the sudden contact. They weren't bleeding very much, and they hardly hurt. The dirt and grime just made them look worse than they were.

"I'm okay, uh…" Trailing off, he gingerly pulled his hand back.

Her face turned red, and she let go of him immediately, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to um…"

He found himself smiling at her, "Thank you, for helping me."

She beamed, "I'm glad I found you! Kero-chan said he saw an uncorrupted spirit stuck down here, so I came to see."

"Eh?-"

"So," She clapped her hands together in excitement. "Would you like to be my regalia? I mean, I'll treat your wounds whether you want to be or not. It's entirely your choice."

His brow scrunched in confusion, "W-what?"

"Oh, I guess I should have introduced myself first," She was suddenly flustered again, tucking her hair behind her ear only for it to fall down again. She inclined her head slightly, "My name is Sakura, a god of fortune, and I guess you can't introduce yourself yet…"

She knew he didn't know his name? He was confused for a moment, before the rest of her words hit him.

"God-?" He gasped out. She was a god?! He jerked forward, bowing low as his face flushed.

Sakura laughed as she nodded, "So, would you like me to give you a name?"

He sat up again, "I don't understand, Sakura-sama."

"Well no one expects you to know yet, you're brand new to this," She shrugged. "Regalia are the servants of the gods. We give them names and they become divine instruments for their master. Would you like to be mine?"

He blinked down to the ground, processing the new information. She was a god, couldn't she restore to him his memory? But since she was offering a new name, maybe she didn't have that sort of power. He had a million questions, but he couldn't figure out the words to ask just one. He was scared and confused and alone. There was no where else for him to go.

Looking back to the god's kind face, he made his decision. If he stayed with her and became her servant, he would have the time and opportunities to ask the questions he needed answering. But aside from that, she was so warm. He wanted to be in that presence more.

And he didn't want to be alone again.

"Yes, Sakura-sama. I will be your regalia," He stated with determination. "I will do my best to serve you."

Again, Sakura blushed a little before smiling sweetly. Then standing, she closed her eyes and pointed at him with her first and second fingers pressed together. White light illuminated from them as she traced her hand through the air.

"You, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. I grant you a place to belong."

Her eyes opened and he swore her green irises were almost glowing. Suddenly she was no longer the blushing young girl, but the pinnacle of an eternal god.

"My name is Sakura. Bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name I make thee my servant. With this name and it's alternate. I use my life to make thee a regalia. Thou art Ran. As regalia, Hien."

She lowered her hand, then swept her arm in and arched out, sending the completed character towards him. It stamped itself on him, piercing his soul. Defining him. He felt the light burn as it seared itself onto the back of his shoulder.

"Come, Hien!" She shouted, reaching to him. That white light surrounded him. He raised his arms, shielding his face as a reflex. It twisted around him until he was absorbed in it, it transforming him. And then he felt her hand grip him, but he wasn't himself anymore. He was long, almost taller than she was. His surface was smooth wood, like a tree beaten and degraded by many years of sandstorms.

I'm a staff? It was all very disorienting. To become something else so suddenly. He felt incredibly strange.

"Syaoran," Sakura said softly, with resolution.

Then as if nothing had happened, he was himself again. The light dissipated as he collapsed to the ground, blinking dazedly. He moved to stand again, his robe swishing with the movement. He looked down to his hands, the fingers dirty and bloody, but complete. No longer fading away to nothing. He felt stronger as well, not so much in his body, but in his spirit. It was hard to completely understand, and harder still to put into words. There was something inside him, at the core of his very existence, that wasn't there before. It grounded him, solidified him.

He looked up to her with excitement, with awe, but those quickly turned into concern as he saw her. Tears were falling down her face, which she hastily brushed away. But there was still a small smile gracing her lips.

"What's wrong?" He fretted, lifting his hands up in her direction. He stopped though, unsure of what to do with them.

"It's nothing," Sakura muttered, wiping the water away. "Well Syaoran, let's go home and take care of your injuries."

They had started walked, but he stopped mid-step, "That's my name?"

"Yup!" Sakura nodded happily. "Your name is Ran, and as a vessel, Hien, and as a person, Syaoran."

He let out a breath, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. His hand pressed to his chest as warmth filled him. Warmth, which had nothing to do with the desert sun, settling pleasantly in his heart.

Sakura bowed her head, her fingers touched to her own heart. She let out a contented sigh and grasped his hand, "Let's go home."

"Yes," He replied with a nod and a blush.

Syaoran. He found himself grinning happily as Sakura dragged him down the sandy path.

Youou swung his sword. The blade cut through the air like nothing else, almost no resistance through the wind. Sweat was clinging to the underlayer of his yukata, and Youou could feel his breath shortening just a bit, even in the cool temperatures of Heaven's eveningfall. The air was fragrant and almost sharp as Youou made even strokes, his movements precise and perfect. His hands gripped the wrapped leather of the handle, feeling the enchantments that had been laid into the long, plain katana that his goddess, Tomoyo had acquired for him centuries ago. The metal was well cared for, and still just as sharp as it had been the day he'd gotten it, when he'd sliced his thumb open on the fine edge. He was more careful now.

As he swung the sword, his eyes caught flashes of the kanji on the back of his right hand, that named him and spelled out who he was, (You, short for Youou, as a regalia Kanzashi), Tomoyo had given him that.

Youou took a breath as he finished his kata, bringing the blade to a halt, before he whirled and sliced up the belly of a straw stuffed practice dummy. It's insides began to fall, but not before two other strokes sliced it into four pieces. He let it fall to the ground with a smirk of pride, at his speed, his strength. He paused, blade extended, before he shouted, and flipped, bringing the sword down in a final, killing stroke.

"Borderline!" he yelled, and a wave of white light emerged from the edge of the blade, slicing down the pole the dummy had rested again, as well as the corn stalks that waved in the field distant. Youou relaxed his stance, and huffed.

There was a slow clap from behind him, and Youou cursed to see the only person in all of Heaven and earth (aside from Tomoyo herself) who could sneak up on him.

"What is it, Souma?" he snapped at his former teacher. She smiled, her sharp haircut falling in front of her face, but in nowise gentling her features.

"I admire how hard you practice, Youou, but don't you think you're overdoing it?" Souma said. "You've been out here for hours. Worried you're not good enough?"

Youou growled. "I'm plenty good." He'd better be after two hundred years.

Souma smiled, still teasing. "Then why don't you just relax a little? The world isn't ending right now."

Souma did have a right to suggest he rest. She had been his trainer in the sword and other things, when he'd first come to this temple, as a new regalia, wide eyed, angry and confused. It was because of her and her lover (another of Tomoyo's regalia) Kendappa that he didn't blight Tomoyo first thing, with the state of his emotions then.

But still.

"You're as annoying as ever, Souma," Youou growled, and walked off towards the main body of the temple.

He, Souma, and Kendappa were regalia to Tomoyo, the goddess of dreams, moonlight and the night. She lived in her temple in Heaven, with a corresponding shrine on earth, and had many followers and believers. She spent her time caring for the people who believed in her, giving good dreams, and keeping an eye on the bad ones. She also always eased the nightmares of children.

Youou had also heard, in the two centuries he'd served her, that she could see the future, that her own dreams were a seer's visions, and if she spoke them aloud, then they'd come true. Youou had never seen any evidence of that, yea or nay, but if Tomoyo told him it were so, he'd probably believe it.

Youou entered the temple complex, mostly halls of worship and ceremony, with small living quarters in the back. The three of them were Tomoyo's only regalia, as it was harder on a god the more regalia they had. Youou had a living quarters, a large bath, and access to the full temple. Down below, on earth, Tomoyo's followers were happy and solid, and life was peaceful.

This was probably the very reason that Youou practiced for hours with the katana.

In different times, in the days when Youou had been found, a weak, angry spirit, hovering over bloodstained land with no memories of how he got there, or who he was, Tomoyo had needed a warrior. Protection, and strength were why she'd picked him, and why she had Souma and Kendappa. The goddess of the night was powerful, and she warred with other gods for the right to be remembered. For those who were remembered carried on, even after death. Tomoyo had never been killed, never needed to reincarnate, but he was glad to have the reassurance that she would return again, even if it was as a memoryless child. It would still be her.

Not that he intended on letting her die. Ever.

It had been a different time back then, when ayakashi were large, and active, and they targeted regalia and humans alike. Tomoyo had used all three of their forms in battle… but Youou's fighting form was useless without her, so he'd learned the sword on his own as well. Souma and Kendappa had trained him in the warrior's way very well.

Youou cleaned off, and changed into fresh clothes, tying the sash around his waist, and the sword belt to that, even though the clothes were far too casual for that. Then there was a soft knock on his door.

"Youou," said the owner of the knock, and Youou turned to face his goddess. Tomoyo stood in his doorway, looking gentle as always, her small form draped in formal kimono and a delicate headdress. She gave off the impression of fragility, but if she moved a certain way, then you could see the iron center to her nature. The girl was stubborn as she was graceful.

"Tomoyo-hime." Youou bowed. She smiled.

"Youou, I've told you that you don't need to call me a princess," she said, smiling.

"Humph," he replied. Youou called her a princess, because that had been the first thing he said when he became aware, sure that this girl in her shining robes and gentille smile must be a princess. By this point, it was a habit.

Tomoyo laughed behind her hand, and sobered a little, looking right into him, as she had the right to do.

"I have sensed your emotions, as of late," she said, and Youou looked down, those emotions rising up. She nodded, lifting a finger. "Why are you angry, Youou?"

Youou clenched his fist, and tried to control himself.

"Souma was bugging me," he said, which was true.

Tomoyo shook her head. "No, that's not the whole picture…" Tomoyo breathed out, letting her hand fall to clasp in front of her. "If you're bored, I can find you things to do."

Youou growled, turning away so his princess didn't have to see his face. It wasn't boredom, exactly, as much as growing sense of dream, of restlessness, that things had been peaceful for too long.

"I heard you destroyed another practice dummy."

"Yeah, so? That's what they're for," Youou replied, and Tomoyo breathed out, pulling back the presence of her power.

"I suppose you're right. You should rest. We have a night of dreaming ahead of us."

Youou turned back, and nodded. "Yes, milady."

The old chapel had blood on the floor. It was on the crackled tile, seeping into the places the plaster underneath showed through. It was spattered up onto the walls, where strange, decidedly non-religious artwork hung. It was on the couch, that had the spring that jabbed Fai's tailbone, every time he sat there, smoking a cigarette and lounging with the other gods. They were all dead.

Fai knelt, so there was blood on his knees too, panting and staring at the scene. The usual scene, apparently, as Ashura had done this before, again and again. Nine gods and regalia were dead, killed. And in the midst of it, the man was sleeping, his long black hair spread out around him. He wouldn't wake, not for a while, anyway. Fai had made sure.

Fai breathed heavily, and closed his eyes to the sights around him, trying to hide, to ignore, to go back to the life he had been living before, here with the other no-name gods, trying not to disappear.

Then, Ashura shifted. His magic was strong, after all, strong enough to save him, all those centuries ago. He shifted, and Fai ran.

Fai D. Flourite settled back into the seat of the train, taking in the warm aura of the evening travellers, smelling like perfume and money. He enjoyed riding the train, he'd found over the centuries. Everything in his head would calm, the thoughts that circled around themselves were dulled by the noise of the tracks, blurring into background noise. He could think. Or not think, as tended to be his habit.

Gods, how hadn't he noticed?

Fai rubbed his face, and tried to push away the thoughts. It was nice to be out of the cold. He didn't have a shrine (or a temple or worshippers or friends or regalia or anything) and so he had nowhere to go. The north was a cold, poor and bitter place, and he'd been lucky to sneak aboard this train where the last of the rich blew their savings on travel to warmer countries.

Shifting in his seat, Fai realized he'd been pressing his knees to his chest, and so he lowered them. He was a god. He had power immeasurable, and he could protect himself. He'd been doing it for years after all, as Ashura had trained him well. Ashura was strong, but he was stronger. And, if he found him… well, he'd cross that bridge if or when it ever came to that.

Which it wouldn't.

Ever.

Shaking off the thoughts, and the clawing sense of pursuit, Fai wriggled downwards into the not-as-soft-as-it-could-be cushion. It wasn't a cheap train: heading through the borders was pricey- not really something the layman would ever attempt. But Fai thought that the quarters could be a little more comfortable, to say nothing of on board meals and drinks. Ah, he could go for a drink right now.

He got situated, with his feet up on the dark window, twisted on the seat. Then, he blinked, and turned his head towards the aisle, almost having to bend backwards to do it. Fai came face to face with an upside-down child.

Well, he supposed he was the upside-down one, wasn't he?

The child, a little girl with curly blonde pigtails, and a thick fur coat - obviously her family was rich enough to take this train, but poor enough to not pay a nanny to keep track of the little brat - was staring at him with her finger in her mouth. It was always such an odd feeling to be stared at, given that he was mostly unnoticeable to the general populace.

Then she poked his nose with a slobbery finger.

"Ewww!" Fai flailed upright, twisting around to wipe off the drool, wincing dramatically. "Blegh."

She giggled. The little monster. He sent her a glare.

"What?" he said, still rubbing at his face. She was smiling, tipping up to her toes and back down again, surprisingly balanced for the movement of the train (which had definitely /not/ made Fai wobble a bit when he first got up to search for food - of which there was none)

She babbled, something about potatoes and a kitty, interspersed with la la las. Ugh, children…

He straightened up, and began to gently push the child away.

"Alright, little one. Time to go back to your family…" He desperately looked around for anyone who might be missing a child. No one looked remotely interested, or even like they should be rearing children. Fai slumped, before rubbing his forehead. "Fine...I'll help you find your parents...if I must."

The brat wouldn't move unless he let her hold on to his finger, so with her moist grip around his index finger - which he swore to himself that he'd wash before he did anything else - he set off, leading her past every seat in their compartment, hoping someone would recognize her.

"I hope you're happy," he hissed to her, as she dawdled along. "I was comfortable, and then you came along and ruined it. I was just enjoying being warm... I suppose you wouldn't know what it means to be cold." He found he hoped she didn't. Flashes of lightning and sea water and stone sent a shudder through him before he pushed them away. Then he squinted down at the cheerful little one. She smiled a gummy smile, and tugged on his hand, pointing.

"Elicia!" There was a shout, and a man and woman were tripping over their feet, trying to get out into the corridor of the train. They looked frazzled, and full of relief to see the little girl - Elicia, presumably. "Elicia, where have you been?!"

The man scooped her up into his arms, while the woman cooed in her face. Fai rolled his eyes, and then cupped his hand to his mouth.

"You're welcome!" he shouted lightly. Almost no one heard, though he saw a few people

twitch, like they were shaking off a fly. The mother looked up, confused for a moment, before turning her face back to the little girl. Ah well.

Fai tucked his hands into his pockets, and went back to his seat. Outside, past his own pale reflection, he could see vaguely the snowy hills passing by. In the morning, they'd be grassy and the air would grow warmer. He was heading south. South where no one would find him. South where the tang of sea water rode on the air - it was warm and different, but similar enough to make him sick - and Yuuko's temple remained untouched in the middle of a city.

That was where he was headed. Yuuko. He had to talk to Yuuko.

But first, he needed to acquire some good wine.

A/N: I hope you all liked it! Feel free to ask us any questions you have and we'll do our best to answer (unless it's spoilery then no dice hehe), or any other sort of thoughts you have! We'll do our best to post chapters weekly.

We hope you enjoy our story! Thanks for reading!