A/N: Well, here's my first story in quite a while! I'm ecstatic to publish this one-I'm psyched for how it's going to turn out!

First of all, you guys should know that this is a Shishio/OC fanfiction. Yes, I like Yumi. She's great. But Shishio is such a fantastic villain, and a brilliant character that I absolutely adore. I can't stand the idea that THERE ISN'T A SINGLE ONE OF THESE STORIES THAT I CAN FIND. If you know of one, please, please, PLEASE send it to me. I will love you forever!

Don't discount this one because of that just yet! I have some awesome plans for this story, and I hope you all enjoy the following chapter! I know it's pretty fast-paced, but I wanted to get into the plot. Hope it's okay anyways! Leave a review, if you please! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Happy reading,

SOTS

I own none of the following material, other than original characters. All other characters belong to the owners of the manga and the anime!

Prologue

In music, fate is cast as some bombastic shift, a temporal manifesto that pushes, pulls, and demands a wild serenade of horns as it proudly struts through life. It knows that no one can harm it; it knows that anyone that tries to defile it will be deferred in the snap of its lithe fingers.

Such a definition of fate was too frantic and callous for Avery to ever accept. Rather, she looked at it through the lenses of drawing: few things were straight lines-everything was just a change in value instead.

So when she fell through the linen closet for the first time and discovered the indefinite portal into another dimension, she refused to cry out in despair and fear. She relished the change in pace, the adventure it presented.

Until, one day, the adventure decided to play back to her as well.

Chapter 1

A second past the door and I already held a contempt for the haziness of the room.

It was dark once I closed the door, and I coughed violently at the dust that filled the small area. Covering my mouth, I peered out of one eye, shuffling forward with my hand outstretched, begging for it to make contact with any surface around the room. I breathed slowly, thinly, quietly, trying to reduce the amount of noise I made exponentially-you could never tell when something dangerous would be just outside of the first room.

However, my efforts were in vain. In the pitch darkness of the area, I couldn't see the bucket at my feet, and unknowingly tripped over it with a yelp, landing with the seemingly infinite clanks and clacks of metal tools falling over themselves and boisterously onto the hard stone floors below.

I cringed intensely at the sound, and bit my tongue painfully as another wooden bucket came crashing down and hit the top of my head. I groaned as my face made contact with the cold, firm floor.

Storage closet. Fantastic.

At least after a moment I knew that there was no one outside to greet me.

Letting out a flustered sigh, I crawled forward, grimacing as I searched blindly around the area. Finally, my hand hit something wood, and I smirked with another violent cough.

I stood, pressing my weight against the surface, rubbing the back of my head.

And, of course, I let out another voice of surprise when the wall caved and I fell into another, brighter room.

Rotted wood, I hissed mentally, not a pleasant start.

But, as every moment in life is a continuation, the adventure would continue; I had a new world to explore.

I pulled myself from the enwrapping woodpile, and dusted my clothes off thoughtlessly. It was simple enough-a black cloak hid my casual jeans and t-shirt well enough that, if the time was inopportune for a girl such as myself, I wouldn't attract too much attention. But, if things turned south, I could still make a damn good run for it.

I pulled the hood over my head, rolling my shoulders, and took a better look around.

The place was abandoned-a placid single-story home with light beams straying in from the ceiling where the wood had rotted. The windows were covered by planks, so I wasn't able to get a clear view outside, though I could hear the hubbub of a street, almost as if this were in the middle of a marketplace. The tones of children and mothers roamed in echoes through the tiny building, and the laughter of men enjoying a few moments together with friends cascaded like a waterfall of noise. The floor was stone, just like the closet, but brushed with dirt and grime, adorned by the corpses of overturned insects that wandered into a deserted no-man's land, overturned of bread crumbs and tasty morsels for them to eat. Cobwebs starkly hung onto the walls, but nothing moved over them; the place was dead from the inside out.

With a shiver, I quickly paced myself to the front door, a slab of wood that was barely held onto the sides of the house, and carefully walked through it into the open world.

My jaw dropped as a city from elder Japan greeted my eyes.

I'd strayed from home before-but never this far.

I swallowed a gulp, pulled my cloak over my body, and watched in a stunned moment as the people swayed down the street, content in their little worlds of submersion into the culture around. Men and women walked in kimonos, children harassed one another with teases about their heritage and whose father had been a greater samurai. Brawls raged between those who had drank too much sake. The architecture climbed and slanted, curving into the classical, sleek appearance that I would've expected to see in the most pristine of paintings.

Trying not to rouse suspicion by staring, I turned right and gazed in wonder at the sweeping reds and blacks and golds of the world around as I walked. It came in bursts, like a star had exploded into a thousand granules of perfect color and was absorbed into this single city. Some of the buildings were inlaid with a darling blue, an interstellar wash that cleansed the visual palate from the bold colors and allowed for a breath of fresh air. The earthy greens and pale pinks came from the wardrobes of the people walking down the sandy street. Violets and greys invasively paraded in storefronts and high-sailing cloths that draped down over fruits, vegetables, and paintings in the marketplace. The occasional white stripe pervaded the senses and drew my eyes in even further, like a river dancing through the oncoming persons.

It was glamorous, an exquisite sort of cacophony of color. Dazzling, fast-paced, lively, complex.

A wide grin broke out over my face. I brushed a hair behind my ear underneath the hood, marking each and every one of the turns I was taking. If I got lost, the effects would be disastrous.

After about thirty minutes of perusing the area, I glanced up at the mountain towering over the city. It was strong, steady, and held an aura of untouchability, like something was deeper inside that nothing human could change or corrupt.

In the background of my paused moment, I could hear the whispers of men, though I paid them little heed.

"Our lord won't be happy to hear we're armed out in broad daylight…attracting too much attention…cops won't be pleased."

"He worries too much…careful…ready soon…"

"…Hasn't finished gathering troops…"

"…place will be in flames soon…"

When the last part hit my ears, I started slightly. Though the mountain was a grand spectacle, like some sort of divine figure pompously staring down at the individuals of the city day after day, it was sobering to listen to the men; I nodded silently to it out of respect, not watching as I took a step backwards and ran into the group, stumbling over one of them and landing on top of them with a grounding thud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Watch where you going?"

"Who do you think you are?!"

I gulped at the snarls of the men above, and shuddered as they bared down disgusted at me. A bead of sweat presented itself across my forehead, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that a few of them had swords plastered to their hips.

Oh god….

The groan below me had me leaping into the air, grasping the inside of my cloak tightly for a sense of calibration. The men were huddled together, and I was just barely slinked ahead of them on the street. I looked over my shoulder, praying someone had seen and would come to my rescue, but no one even batted an eye. My mouth got dry then; I felt myself shiver in anxiety at the striking moment as I slowly looked back at the men, whose eyes were darkened in a swelling rage.

The one who I had knocked over was bleeding from the side of his head. Looking to the ground, I saw that I had accidentally forced him into a sharp stone that was sticking out of the street. My breath hitched at the crimson liquid caressing the sides of his face, and I took a step back.

"You little imbecilic rat…" he hissed out, sneering as some of the blood ran over his eye. He looked like a demon, eyes wide and teeth bared.

"I am so, so sorry," I spit out haphazardly, putting my hands forward as a sign of innocence and peace. "I didn't see you there. It was an acci—"

"Shut up!" he snarled, looking more and more like a rabid animal. The rest of the group cringed at his outburst, looking to him with both fear and reverence. I realized with widening horror that I wasn't dealing with some street thug; he was a practiced man, full of rage and backed by the caution of his men. None would stand against him; I was on my own.

One of the men closest to him had his eyes grow wide then.

"That kid's been listening in on our entire conversation!"

The dead silence that followed was suffocating; I practically heard the single drop of sweat fall and hit the ground in a slow-motion moment.

"Well," the leader of the group drawled, a sickening smirk glazing his face. "How about it, kid? How much did you hear?"

He was tall, broad-shouldered. Muscles at every juncture on his body. His hair was long, pulled back into a braid. Gray, calculating eyes took in my every minute movement. He was a smart one, indeed; but from the cockiness and the bulk, he was more than likely stronger than he was fast. The rest of the men in his group looked the same: sinfully powerful but wasting nimbleness.

I stored the information in the back of my head, pulling out the recollection of every twist and turn I had seen on the way here. If there was any chance of getting away, I was going to have to run.

"I-I didn't hear anything!" I defended, eyes stricken with adrenaline and anticipation. I took another step back, foot sliding noisily over the sandy contour of the ground. My heart pumped in sync with the quickening pace of my breath, and my blood coursed to my skeletal muscles in the heat of the moment. My body was starting to panic, and it was showing.

He chuckled darkly, matching my step in stride. "I seriously doubt that. Were you planning on selling the information? Being a spy for the police?" His face smoldered with an indefinite blackness again. "How dare they challenge the revolution with such a pathetic fool!"

"Revolution?" I whispered under my breath. Interesting…

"Your coy nature doesn't fool any of us, child!" He drew his sword slowly then, painfully. The metal sound pierced my ears, and everything in my body froze for just a single moment in time. "So you'll just have to die for your quietude!" He smiled darkly at me one last time before thrusting forward with a battle cry.

But not before I could duck to the ground, pull myself to my feet, and sprint back towards the way I had once come in!

I didn't stop to turn around and see his reaction to missing the target; I tried to elongate my stride as much as possible, galloping over the sandy street with my feet pounding into the ground. My hood flew off, and I slid to a stop so that I could quickly turn the corner, heaving breaths from my mouth as I resumed my speed towards survival.

I weaved in and out of people, knocking into them and crashing into market stands painfully, but never truly stopping. My muscles strained and cried out, bruises forming as my hip made contact with another wooden countertop. I chanced a look back, breathing shallow and barely reaching the tops of my lungs.

They were right on my tail, and closing fast!

I was barely able to intake a breath before pushing myself off again. The cries of protests from the people I stormed past went on unopened ears. My chest and stomach hurt from the exertion; my blood felt clogged and slow, like it was going to seep from my veins and explode. My face was burning, and I was barely able to stand straight from how badly I was shaking with each step I made.

Deciding that it wasn't worth it anymore, I reach up to the latch of my cloak and set it free from my neck as I turned another corner, landing face into the chest of another man, scraping my arms and knees painfully, and jumping back up to continue running for dear life. Since my hood had fallen back, my dirty-blonde hair had already been revealed; there was no use hiding any longer.

Hearing their screams and volatile threats closing in, I forced my body even more, leaping over the moving carts that got in my way.

Another turn.

I shoved the man in front of me, as well as his cart full of cabbages, backwards into the pursuing party, hoping for a level of distraction as I scurried through the streets.

Just one more…!

I almost missed the turn as I skittered to a stop, bashing into the building on the sharp, narrow street with a groan.

…There!

I could see the abandoned building up ahead. The door had fallen off its hinges from the day, and I felt my eyes water in desperation at the sight of it.

"There she is!"

"Don't let her get away!"

With a final scream of need, I powered through the last moment of the chase, using the force of my run to slam my way through the blocked-up wood of the window, landing flat on the stone ground with my head bashing into it. The world spun noxiously as I clambered to a stand, and I saw red cover my eye as I scrambled the rest of the way into the storage closet, slamming the door behind me and landing with a magnificent 'umfff!'

My stomach whirled, and my head clogged; the sensation was familiar, and I gasped in a few breaths at the beautiful feeling. As I felt myself fall from my own closet and onto the soft carpet of my basement, I teared up, curling into a ball and wrecking out a few sobs that I had actually made it home.

Alive.

How was I Alive?!

I twisted onto my back, thanking the heavens that I had had the good sense to time the trip correctly; if I had been a moment later, they would've swarmed into my house after me and taken me back to their world. Instead, I had managed to actually outwit a group of soldiers and make it home safe and sound.

I lay there for several minutes in my calming cries of wrecked anxiety. I felt the adrenaline collapse; my body calmed itself, and released all of the fear and pressure of the single moment. And I welcomed it.

When my breathing had finally evened out and my blood had returned to normal, I tried to force myself up, Everything hurt; my head was the worst of the bunch, though. I doubted I had a concussion, but it would swell and darken for the next few days.

As I dragged myself up the stairs to the main floor of my home, I ran over my memories of the closet in a desperate plea for myself to stop this maddening journey through time and space.

Ever since I had discovered the tiny linen closet in my unused basement, it had been both a blessing and a curse. It was always there, pervading my thoughts and desires like some untested drug that had no boundaries. It was an incredible high, seeing the world as no other could; I had seen time and space, been through novels and history, and back again. I craved every second that I was there, watching as time passed and gazing at people that had no comprehension someone so far removed was among them.

It was an addiction.

But after moments like this, I prayed for a way to force myself to stop. To return my focus to my music and my college studies; this was beyond what people were meant to see! Beyond myself and what I could imagine as a life!

But that was just it; I had to go back. I had to see what was beyond the rules and imagination.

And under that impression, as I cleaned my forehead up in the tiny bathroom of my home, I knew that tomorrow I would return to that world and regale another story to experience; another adventure to try to supersede the last.

This time had been a close call. I would learn from it, and be more aware, more inconspicuous in times to come.

The portal would remain connected to this world for another five days, changing locations every six hours. It was indisputably unlikely that I would run into any of those men again. I would be fine.

It was with that resolve that I went to bed that night after a long, hot shower and a bandage to the head.


It was bright out by the time I awoke the next day. I groaned into the pillow, sore from the night before. My head throbbed, though the pain was dull. More an annoyance than anything. I yawned, pulling the covers closer, before rolling over and stretching out my arms. I rubbed my eyes awake, and shoved myself out of bed and into the shower yet again; I still felt dirty with the sweat and tears from the night before.

Home was a little townhouse paid for by my parents. Under the belief that roommates would only work to distract me from my studies, they used money out of their own pocketbooks to pay for the little complex. It was simple enough; a living room where I did my studying, a small kitchen to take care of myself, a bathroom for hygiene, a bedroom to sleep in and practice for my music major in, and an unfinished basement that unwittingly had a portal to other dimensions.

I suppose it was better than the other students on campus. I wasn't complaining.

I pulled on a black blouse and a pair of dark green cargo pants, pulling my hair back into a neat ponytail in the bathroom mirror, leaving a few strands to curve around the structure of my face. I stretched one more time, changed the bandage on my forehead, and hobbled into the kitchen. The bruise on my hip was just as bad as I had expected-dark, pitted blue-on-black with a yellowed ring around the edges. There was a slight lump, and it shot a lightning-wave of pain up my torso whenever I hastily put pressure on my leg. It was a minor incapacitation; if I was careful, I could still manage getting around in the other world just fine.

After a quick scramble of eggs and a bit of toast, I pulled on a pair of black boots, took some aspirin, and found myself before the closet door once again. The location had inevitably changed by now…it was just a matter of playing it safe.

It would be easy.

Just go in, and look around. Like every other time.

Go in.

Look around

Don't get caught.

After the night before, it seemed easy. Just pay attention, and nothing bad would happen. I shook all of my nervous fears off in a moment of bravado, placed my hand at the knob of the closet, and stepped through.

The initial wave of nausea and weightlessness hit harder than usual. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I gasped in the truth-defying moment. The world collapsed, and reformed like a galaxy under my feet, in tiny ominous waves that reached out eternally.

When the world recalibrated, I found myself almost juxtaposed against the door of another closet. I held in a gasp, and leaned towards the back of the closet. It was tiny, asphyxiating, but the door looked like the tiniest tap against it would backlash and cause the entire thing to open.

Light played in through a crack between the wall and the door. It was just barely propped close. I gulped, and shook as I stood there listening for just a moment. There were voices outside, dark and masculine. A meeting, perhaps?

"Where is Soujiro?" a tenor, somewhat boisterous voice asked. He sounded rather impatient.

A sudden quake in the building almost had me tilting forward and ruining my hiding place. I barely kept myself balanced.

"That's him below us. I told him to train for the afternoon in the dojo." I felt my blood run cold at the voice. It was deep, sultry, hiding a thousand intellectual secrets. It was familiar, too. Like I had heard it on a soundtrack in a memory long-since passed. This place…it had to be from somewhere I knew. A movie? A game?

Another voice joined in. "It is of little importance. We have things to discuss."

The second man chuckled darkly. "I see the years have done nothing for you patience. But I suppose the civilities are of little consequence." There was a shuffling for a moment, before something soothed out over a surface, sounding eerily like paper. "The police have started to notice our efforts; this is unacceptable. We are still in the early stages of preparation. We do not have the forces necessary to carry out the attack. If they try and quell our efforts so quickly, there will be little we can do." The tension grew then, as if he were reprimanding his men.

"If you cannot suffice to placate yourselves for even this short amount of time," he growled out, "then I will have your heads."

It was silent for the moment following. I shifted ever-so-slightly, hoping I could glance though the opening of the door. If need be, I could close it quickly enough to escape without being noticed.

"Lord Shi—"

"I will not tolerate this insubordination!" I jumped slightly at the sudden harshness of the man's voice, biting my tongue. His utter calm seemed almost a façade-he was completely in control of his men. He had to be extraordinarily powerful; they held a very high respect for him.

No one moved as he let his words sink in. "If you honestly believe you can perform this revolution better than I," he growled darkly, "then I strongly suggest you prove it." His shoes clacked ominously against the ground. "Defeat me. Show me you strength."

A pin could've dropped from the utter silence that followed.

"Well," he practically purred in satisfaction, "let's continue then, shall we?"

He walked back over, and I let out the breath I was holding with a shudder.

"Why, though?" another voice spoke up, almost whimpering. "We're supposed to be the strong, right? We have power over the weak. You've said so yourself."

"Strength is not merely physical," he retorted calmly. "It takes a skill of mind; patience and strategy will be on our side in this battle. We will grow our forces, and then we will set fire to Kyoto." The men voiced their agreement.

Just then, though, another quake, stronger than the last, ripped through the ground. I couldn't keep myself balanced this time. Making a noise of surprise, I toppled forward into the door, and onto my knees in front of the meeting.

I jerked my head up in a quick panic, not processing what had just happened. There were around five men in the room. I heaved a few breaths out as they started, stunned, down at my form. Swallowing heavily, I looked at the center of the room, and made eye contact with him. Those velveteen, violet-red eyes glared down at me in a rampant mix of curiosity, amusement, and rage. As I took in his entire form, a shiver rolled down my back.

I hadn't been wrong when I thought I recognized the voice.

My eyes grew wide as I watched Shishio Makoto stare me down like I was his juicy steak dinner.

"You!"

All eyes went to the corner. I gasped and balked in surprise. It was the man from the previous day, eyes blazing at me in utter hatred. His forehead had been patched, and he was practically shaking from the rage he emitted.

Shishio released a quick laugh then. "This is the girl that outran you yesterday?" His lips widened into a smirk. "I thought more of my soldiers. Interesting." His face darkened again though. "Though I do question how you managed to get in here. After all, you listened to that entire conversation, didn't you?" He cocked his head, smiling slightly. "Shame."

"Oh!" I said, coming to a full stand with a nervous grin plastered over my face. "That-that was nothing! Just a coincidence! Wrong place at the wrong time, you know?" I gazed at Shishio with wide eyes, praying my charisma had grown since the last time I tried to persuade someone.

The other man snarled out, drawing his sword. "You won't disappear this time, you little rat!" He let out a battle cry, and sped towards me then.

I screamed back, turning back into the closet and pulling the door to a close desperately.

It was about to slam shut, but my foot just barely got in the way!

In the momentary failing, the man's hand grasped around the edge of the door. I gasped, and pulled against him, growling in protest as I put all of my strength into it.

However, the man was stronger than me, and the door started to budge his way!

I had to do something—I would die if I didn't! I gritted my teeth, reached my head forward, and bit down on his fingers as hard as I possibly could.

He yowled, and I tasted coppery blood in my mouth. As he let go, I fell back, and the door closed again. The world swelled, and by the time I spit the blood out of my mouth, I was home, stumbling out of the closet and running to grab the chair next to the closet, slamming the door shut and propping the door up against it.

Ignoring the splitting pain in my leg, I raced up the stairs, grabbing every heavy object I could and desperately pushing them back down and in front of the doors. It had been maybe ten minutes in the world; if my calculations were correct, the location had only appeared about an hour ago. I needed to get out of here.

When I had propped every book, chair, and middle-sized appliance I could find against the door, I ran into the bedroom, fishing out a tiny suitcase and tossing the closet clothes from my closet and drawers in. A few dresses, a sweater, everything went by in a blur of colors; I just grabbed and went.

Panicking even more as I realized I was taking far, far too long to leave, I realized there was a symphony in New York City a few hours away over the weekend. Yes! I could go there. Stay a few nights, visit some friends…this would be perfect!

I zipped up the suitcase, hands shaking as I threw it to the ground and reached to the corner for my violin. I pulled my suitcase out into the living room, sprinting to the door and frantically searching for the car keys.

When I turned around and saw the man in black staring me down barely a foot away, I was perfectly silent. Gazing at him in unbelieving despair. His face was covered, and he cocked his head as he slowly searched around the room before meeting my eyes again calmly.

I felt a blow to the back of the head and cried out in pain. It registered that my knees hit the floor; then I blacked out.