(disclaimer)) i owns not SK.. tis belongs to Hiroyuki Takei.

warnings: character death, semi-alternate universe, bashing of characters, OOC-ness, randomness, BL pairing (yoh/hao/yoh, horo/ren, marco/lyserg other side pairings and interferences).

a/n: first attempt at an AU story; suggestions appreciated. not the best spelling/grammar person, and my sentence structure as well as style tends to wander around; open to constructive criticism. I'm not Japanese, I don't speak it, and I often fail when trying. no honorfics, though I may add some commonly used words like 'nani' or 'arigatou' when said character feels like it.. Updates are random.. i love italics..ehems. Without further adue..

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to seek solace

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I ran. Escaping, hiding, fleeing. They were on the pursuit. I couldn't see any of their faces in the dark night, only flashes of their targeting eyes from the flickers of ammunition. There were about twenty of them, distinguishably dressed in trenches of white. I ran past the long corridor, knowing that stopping meant none other than death.

"I see him!" one of the voices.. presumably female but what situation was I in to distinguish such matters.."Cebin, to your left!"

I heard gunshots, and dodged to my right. I knew that if I didn't think of something soon, it would be my demise.

"Remiel, stop him!" Another, unknown yet with frustration and fury in his voice.

Behind me, they were shooting. In front, was a strange glowing light, slightly translucent. Wings sprouted from the back, face covered by a masked cross, halo dangling slightly from elongated features... Crosses all over its body, sharp weapons from its fingertips and yet a serene appearance.. an angel.. could it save me from these people? I looked back; the firing seemed to have ceased. With the exception of a small girl no older than five with long tresses, they all had weapons raised. I turned around to look at the angel.. that had a gun pointed at my head.

"Archangel fire!"

It was as if time suddenly slowed down; angels erupted from their weapons, beautiful yet deadly. Armed, and aiming for none other than me. It was that moment I knew that I was rejected from the sanctuary of the above. I have always wondered what sins could possibly be punished this way, being only an eight-year-old boy. It did not matter, perhaps my life wasn't as valuable as I thought. No one in the orphanages would talk to me, and when they were near me, they would yell at me, lips unmoving. They would always yell such cruel things, but it seemed like I was the only one to hear them.. what had I done wrong?

I looked at the angels, their presences coming closer and closer to me. I was blocked, with no where to go. I wasn't ready for death..

"We've got you now, Hao Asakura."

Hao...Asakura? It clicked. I had no idea what I was doing, but I did not try to dodge the leading angel Raphael's attack.

"Spirit of Fire!"

Spirit of what? What.. am I saying? I shut my eyes, vision blurry from tears. There wasn't a way I was getting out of this alive, was there? Why can't they let me know.. what I did wrong?

"Cebin! Luchist! Hans! Look out! Chris..!"

I waited for the final strike, I braced myself for the pain of death. Only, it never came.

I opened my eyes, to see that there were only two glowing-white angels now. I saw the look of anger and disbelief on their faces, and knew that they did not stop the attack at will. It was then, that I felt a great presence. An angel of my own- a small spirit of sorts, red and slightly transparent like all the other strange things that only I have been able to see. Antlers protruding from the sides of its head, circular markings and a upward triangle between large green eyes.

'Are you alright, Master?'

"A-arigatou," I muttered. What happened next wasn't something I was able to control. I didn't know why a laugh escaped my lips as I gave 'them' a hard stare. I didn't know why I had regained my composure so quickly, a voice of unfamiliar confidence."Finish them, Spirit of fire."

It was then, that I woke up to the all-too-familiar sound of my cell phone's ring tone of a waterfall imitation. I was thankful to not have continued that unwanted memory which haunts my dreams every now and then, reaching into the left pocket of my jeans and flipping on the electrical device.

"Moshi Moshi?"

"Hao! So the plane does have phone service?" I recognized that voice, lips tugging into a small smile. I leaned back into the comfortable chair of flight A-42's waiting room, running my free hand through my hair, confirming the lack of knots.

"Of course it doesn't, and you know it doesn't. The plane was delayed by three hours, so I'm in the waiting area right now." I looked around the area; most of the people were family groups, presumably going home or on their last vacation spot, or tourists, with their over sized cameras and notable clothing. There were many children running around, playing with the provided infamous Lego constructions.

"Opacho wonders what a waiting area looks like. Niwi told Opacho it is like Opacho's school with a big space and little kids running around."

"Niwi is pretty accurate." I surveyed the people for a while, before I reached for my knapsack and pulled out a black notebook sized hardcover with nothing on the cover except a small sticker of a green star and my favorite fountain pen that flowed with purple ink. Purple is quite an interesting color, as one cannot write in interchangeable-red-and-blue. "Which reminds me, why aren't you at daycare?"

"Today is so hot, Niwi said she called them and said it was closed. Opacho is happy though because Opacho can watch the summer playtime beach marathon!"

"That sounds fun." I always knew she was addicted to those Saturday cartoons like every other child around her age. "Well, I should not interrupt your watching of cartoons in the morning. I will call you later, okay?"

"Okay Hao. Talk to you soon!"

"Ja ne."

I slid the cell phone back into my pants pocket, then leaned back onto the chair I was sitting on, crossing my legs. I ran my fingers through the smooth cover of the black book, tracing around the star sticker. I opened the book, quickly turning past the line-less pages with words scrawled all over, until my eyes rested upon a clean sheet. I don't really know what to call this; not a diary, not a journal, not a sketchbook, not a album. Whatever came to mind was captured in some way in here, for memory was not a reliable source. I uncapped the pen, and liquid flowed unto blank pages.

August 16, a Saturday.

I'm glad Opacho called me today. It interrupted me from that strange dream I was having. Now that I think about it, I can't remember much from my dream; but I don't like the fact that everything was clear because it is a memory. Why I still remember I don't know, but it's making me fucking pissed. It's nice outside. Yes, think happy, or it all leads to negative impulses. Think happy. Think happy. I still can't believe the airplane got delayed by a whole three hours. I mean, seriously! Okay, happy thoughts. Land of bunnies..? ... I feel like burning something. It's been a while since I had set something into flames. Pah, stupid Niwi. She doesn't like my "pyromaniac behavior" and does not find it "suitable" or "appropriate" to act such ways in front of Opacho. What-ever. She's not the boss of me now.

I'm still a bit reluctant to go to this large university- I mean, what if those crazy people in white find me? .. hmm, that might not be a bad thing. I can burn them all. Spirit of Fire would finally have a proper feast after so long. Insert evil maniacal laughter here. Only, they are the evil ones, what irony. Okay, happy thoughts.

I bought a donut today, and that was happy. I like slightly-sweet pastries, like donuts and muffins and cupcakes and ice-cream and chocolate...yeah. I better stop before I'm tempted to buy something. Everything is so expensive.. there really are no existing happy trail of thoughts are there now?

I pause for a brief second, pondering what to write. I enjoyed free writing, it helps me clear my mind. ...I am wondering what to write. Oh joyous. There are so many things to write about, and yet there are so little things to write about. Sometimes though, I'm not sure if it helps confuse my mind as well. Such understandings of diverse things that didn't necessarily make sense was starting to make my brain hurt now.. I am ever so glad for the interruption;

Master, the plane is boarding now.

I closed the book and quickly shoved it into my knapsack, capping the pen and sliding it into my back pants pocket. I slung the bag on my shoulders and dragged my suitcase towards the crowd. It was..crowded. Arigatou, Spirit of Fire. Telepathic communication was so useful. If we conversed through speech, it would have looked like I was talking to myself, and that was an important thing to avoid. It would bring 'them' knocking right on your door. Or in my case, being fired at and with a chance of being killed.

Master, I feel a strong spiritual presence near you.

Oh? How.. unexpected. How is their furyoku?

Enough to wipe out all the of the past souls I've eaten single-handedly. I do not sense a threat though, and it seems familiar.

Hai, I shall be on the lookout. How interesting. I knew what Spirit of Fire was referring to- he sensed someone who could see spirits like him. Someone with a large amount of spiritual energy, and someone strong enough to stand up to the past souls Spirit of Fire had eaten. I hand-pick Spirit of Fire's meals to ensure powerful growth; nothing less than the best. This person, seems impressive. Iie.. this person was definitely a shaman.

How interesting. If this person was of a friendly presence, then said person wasn't a Registered shaman. Like me.. another out there like me... and probably being chased by 'them.' I wonder who this person is.

It didn't take too long to find out.

xxxx

I felt the rush of the air-conditioning past my face, and almost shivered at the chill. I looked at my ticket, scanning for the seat number-- C-27. It was a convenient area to be seated in, not too far from the bathroom and at the set to the left windows. I passed the A-section that was mostly full and far too under the vicinity of the air-conditioning.. it was freezing, the B-section that was mostly full of the travelling families, and arrived at the C-section. I knew from first sight that I was going to try to stay as far away as I can from the center isle: the tourists. They just annoyed me to no end.

Glancing down back at the seating number, I made my way there slowly, careful not to trip over any of the many suitcases that people were still putting up (there was a case for luggage on top of the seat for windowed seats and on bottom for center-isle seats). C-24, empty. C-25, a middle-aged man reading the newspaper contently sitting with another who was listening to his own music. C-26, a short-haired boy that was also short in stature, reading one of many large tomes. C-27, my seat. However, it seems like I had a seating buddy. What was quite shocking, was the fact that his featured paralleled mines. Well, it was a small world. Coincidences are far too often, but the moment I saw him, something sparked.

I put my suitcase up, then sat down without a word. The seats were nice, much more relaxing than the ones in the waiting area. I moved around the supplied two small pillows and blanket to increase the comfortableness. I was in the seat closer to the isle, and he was in the direct window seat. Between us was a small selection of magazines and a pair of headphones connected to what I presumed to be the radio. There was a small television in front of each chair, technically installed in the back of the person-sitting-in-front-of-yous chair. My seating neighbor had his eyes closed, listening to the music, wire connected to the pair of orange headphones resting on his messy hair. His lips were curved in a slight smile, his face looked so content. His chocolate-caramel bangs, so much like mines but to a shorter degree, framed his face nicely. Why I was inspecting this random person, I had no idea.

Maybe it was because he had such a likeliness to my outer appearance; silky bangs, slightly upturned nose, comparatively feminine cheekbones. Maybe it was those over sized orange headphones that made me feel like I just wanted to yank them off his head. Maybe it was that serene expression that upon first glance, told one that one was safe and satisfied. Maybe it was because I felt a highly impressive level of spiritual energy from him. Maybe this was.. I noticed a rather well-polished grave tablet that hung from his belt, the lower half resting inside his jean pocket. There had to be a reason for having something like that around. My suspicions grew...

Spirit of Fire?

Yes, Master?

Is this the source of furyoku you felt?

... Yes.

What coincidence.

I knew curiosity got the better of me when I found myself leaning over the other, reaching for the tablet. I bit my lower lip, slowly unhinging the top of the tablet from the belt. It made a small clicking noise. I froze, eyes slowly traveling up to his face. I waited stiffly, but he did not seem to notice, still sporting that serene expression of relaxation and slight smile. I do wonder what music he is listening to that brings him so far apart from this world. I grasped my left hand around the top of the tablet firmly. I pulled the tablet up slowly, millimeter by millimeter. After what seemed like an eternity but an actuality of two minutes, I had the words inscribed on the tablet in my view, the base and weight of the object still his pocket. I leaned in closer to read it, his relaxed breathing contrasting my strangely accelerating heartbeat. He had the scent of oranges. What is this..

...addiction?

Concentrate on the task at hand. I reminded myself, tilting my head to view the text. I could tell it was in Japanese, but not like anything I had read before. It seemed like a more complicated form, and the style of writing reminded me of the feudal times. Nevertheless, I was held captive by the the way the words curved, how each stroke seemed to be carved in perfection. I didn't know what I was doing; it was as if the moment I saw those characters, I was under a spell or a trance.

I bit my finger, hard enough so that the flesh teared yet not so for it to be a bother. I placed my finger on the tablet, watching the droplets of blood flow down each character. I didn't know what I was doing, but a small light emitting from the tablet had dragged me back to my senses. The supposed spell broke.

I withdrew from the tablet and back into my seat, slowly glancing up at the boy whom the object belonged to. He didn't seem to notice the small light a bit, or my presence. One would have thought he would be asleep, if not for the occasional mutterings of what could be presumably the song lyrics.

What was I doing? I look at my finger, the blood seemed to have stopped. I look back at the tablet, which was still emitting that small light. I noticed that the light was slowly making its way down to the tablet, and when it reached what I presumed to be the base of the tablet, the glowing stopped. I wonder what had just happened, before I felt the air around me suddenly grow cold.

Wisps of nothingness in the coloration of gray-blue flew from the tablet, materializing right above it. Where there was just oddly colorated spiritual energy, was a faintly transparent samurai with twin swords hanging from his obi. A human spirit... Undefined eyes of a royal plum hue, wispy hair in a spiked ponytail with a tint of Lilac in the snowy-white. He wore a torn blue-hemmed kimono of sorts, ruby-red guards around his arms and shoulders. His expression was of utter confusion, looking at the boy. Then, he turned to look at me and I felt the same spark. A familiar spark...

"It is you who have summoned me?" The spirit questioned, alternating glances between me and his tablet owner. I was pretty sure that he had noticed the similarities by that look he gave me shortly afterwards.

"It appears that way." I whispered. I did not want to be heard or interpreted as talking to myself. The humans.. they can't see spirits. I would be accused and brought to 'them.'

"How is that possible? The language that the tablet is written in has not been used for roughly a thousand years."

"I didn't read it," I replied truthfully. I didn't know what happened. Something just clicked when I saw the words, and it took over my subconsciousness. "I just... knew that it would activate with blood."

The spirit gave me an odd glance. I felt its furyoku, reaching out to its presence mentally, and wondered if Spirit of Fire was mistaken. He was just another spirit, a little stronger than the average shaman's spirit. I did not see why Spirit of Fire had to point him out.

"Is your name," he gave me a questioning glance, still comparing the obviously notable similarities between me and the other. ".. Hao Asakura?"

I froze. My eyes widened at the spirit who was able to identify me with just one glance. I was bought up in private. I went to school under a fake name. No one was supposed to know that I existed. Who exactly was this spirit?

"I.. how would you know?"

He seemed to have a calmer expression. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Iie.." I shook my head. But there was some recognition in my mind, splintered and broken into tiny pieces like mirror fragments.

"Perhaps your name is quite common then," He seemed to smile thoughtfully. "My name is Amidamaru."I am one of the guardian spirits for Yoh Asakura."

Asakura..

isn't that..

my name?