Prologue: Sweet (Fever) Dreams

Her eyes closed and darkness washed over her. It pushed her over like an ocean wave, holding her down. She refused to open her eyes, but knew they would snap open anyway, as this was far less a dream than an over-emphasized memory.

She was right. The heat was surrounding her, and she could see light behind her lids – not the comforting light of a candle in the window, or even the sterile light of fluorescents in a lab. This was orange-red death light, a fire blazing in every direction, eating her precious city with its traditional houses made of wood and rice paper. This was the fire that consumed her mind as surely as the buildings, and she opened her eyes to see Wutai burning to the heavens.

Her eyes stung, but it wasn't for fear or sadness; it was the smoke, building in every direction, assaulting her senses. It made her cough and sputter, the sound only slightly muffling the crackle of the flames. She looked down and groaned – this was her body as a child, and any moment now-

Her mother swooped from behind and wrapped her arms around her, breaking into a run as she picked her up from the street. She was a short woman, but her legs covered more ground in shorter time than would be expected. A large shuriken, sharpened to the point of absurdity, hung at the woman's side. She wore a kimono with only one protective layer underneath, a layer of thin Wutaian chain armor, sprinkled here and there with beads of mastered defensive materia. The gentle chink of the armor was music to the girl's ears as they raced through the stifling heat of the city.

It was mere minutes before they found themselves atop a large hill, and her mother sat her down and knelt before her, letting her short battle kimono brush the grass. The girl absentmindedly ran her hands across the blood red silk with its darker red obi before a hand lifted her chin and she found herself looking at a pair of eyes. Oh, those eyes – her mother's eyes were a strange color, a light blue-gray that looked like pebbles in a pond. Tonight they were harder, sharper, darker; the gray overpowering the blue so that they became storm clouds. They softened only slightly as she spoke.

"There is someone coming who wishes nothing for us but death, my child, my sweet daughter."

She reached to her side and removed the shuriken, all the while holding a sharpened battle fan at the ready. The child reached out with small hands and grasped the weapon by the center ring, accustomed to its weight. She had trained on such items, but had never held her mother's signature weapon before that moment.

"And he will be here soon. You must find a place to hide, Yuffie, so that I may come to you when this ends."

Here she smiled, a faint trace of her usually sunny disposition. There was something clouding her eyes, but Yuffie could not discern it – surely it couldn't be doubt?

"And above all, you must survive, Yuffie, because you are the only hope for this land."

She laid a kiss on the child's forehead, but froze as the sound of footfalls behind her became clear. She did not turn around, but Yuffie could see the man anyway – his long silver hair blowing in the gentle breeze, bright eyes shining with mako in the dark night, long sword still sheathed on his side.

The rest was a blur; her mother opened the fan with a snick and he rushed at her, his speed wholly unnatural – they clashed and parried and dodged without drawing blood for what seemed like hours, but even then, the tall man didn't slow. His energy was boundless, his attacks perfection in motion, and eventually it was all her mother could do to keep up. He waited for an opening – Yuffie saw it too, a space in her mother's defense that was weak – and moved in to finish the fight. The girl rushed forward, throwing the conformer and hoping beyond hope that she had knocked his blade aside. Blood splashed across the ground.

The sword was pushed directly through her mother's stomach, but he didn't let it linger. He pulled back swiftly, and frowned as he looked up and saw the child. She could feel her eyes widening, traveling from him, to her mother, then back again, before she rushed forward to grab the shuriken. She had missed her mark for the first time in what had to be a year; he was too fast, too strong. She was no match for him – and now her mother was dying, her life mingling with the kimono and pooling around her.

She rushed to put her mother's head in her lap, pushing the hair out of her beautiful face – even in the dim light her skin was tanned exquisitely, her features perfectly matched. But now, blood dripped from the sides of her pert mouth, and her beautiful clear-water eyes were glazing over, emptying. Yuffie shut them slowly with her fingers as the tall man crouched beside her.

"It was a very well-aimed strike. You saw the opening as soon as I did."

He turned to face her, but the world had flared up around her with a new clarity. The blood was bright red and the grass startlingly green, and she could even feel the stars glaring at her for being so slow, so weak. Their harsh stares echoed through her head, and the memory, as yet unfinished, began to fade into darkness. Something in the back of her mind screamed that she was no ninja, screamed that a shinobi would have seen that opening three steps ahead…

Screamed that she wasn't good enough.

A/N Welcome to -----, the sequel to Shuriken. I want to thank everyone who read the one-shot and everyone that reviewed it, cause y'all rock. And I REALLY want to thank my beta, Defenestrator, for being so awesome! See you soon with the new chap ; D