Author's Note: Long overdue~ Both this story and the remake of Ai no Kusabi. I mean, It's kinda cool how I had put this off for so long and now... Yea...

This is very much an AU, with the characters based off from both Rieko Yoshihara's Ai no Kusabi (duh~) and Kira Takenouchi's Taming Riki (oh no~!). I'm not quite sure why, but Riki has always- and I do mean always... Like, in-seventh-grade-I-watched-the-OVA-always, imagined Riki as sort of wolf-like. Everything else is from my fantasies on fantasy.

Oh yea, don't worry if the story has your expectations from the summary all confused. It's supposed to.

Haven't read Taming Riki? Aaaah, it costs that green now.. sooo... Yea. I say it's worth it. When I get a job I'm certainly subscribing to Kira again.

Summary: Iason Mink resigns not to know everything, but there are secrets he feels he needs. When he sees an answer in a Wolf named Riki, the forces working to make him forget are set in motion all over again. Will this be the true end of them this time?

Prologue of...

Iason Mink, dressed in nothing but a pair of silky, light-blue pants, paced across his lush bedroom carpet. The colors went back-and-forth between lighter and darker tan, as carpets usually do, though this one seemed particularly tired.

Like many Blondies of his generation, and a significant minority of other generations, he had the terrible feeling that something was missing. Like those others, he believed at first only a petty generalization that something was somewhat wrong: Amoi was in danger, or Jupiter was angry, another Blondie caught in his webs of lies and deceit, an Elite snatched from his home because of an anonymous informer. As the years wore on from the first feeling, one could narrow it down, for all 'missing feelings' were 'wrong feelings' after all, but not all wrong feelings were missing ones. The missing feelings were distinct, especially for Iason, in a way that it produced a yearning for a fruitless search.

Iason had no idea what he was missing in life. He was practically ruler of a country, one of the most powerful countries on the Continent, with huge states and resources. And unlike most heads of state, he actually was the richest and most powerful man in Amoi. There were no celebrities or novelists he had to, or will ever, compete with. He could have any exotic animal or pet known, barring the breakage of any fundamental Amoian rules. He had an adorable cook from Aristia who had made food for gods; at least, Iason's friends thought so. Speaking of, he was friends with the most spectacular, brilliant, and, needless-to-say, influential Blondies and Elites. He is by far the most popular Head Sovereign in history.

The Sovereign is King, second only to Jupiter, the mechanical goddess herself. She has existed before Amoian land was named Amoi, before the roads and mirrors, Pets and plaster buildings. Her rule, though invisible, was as hard and ruthless as any physical chain, but with all the secrecy of a poisonous snake. The Guide which she had laid for the land seemed callous, demonic, and hateful to most outsiders. Even if they could, foreigners wouldn't even think about leaving even the most barren of their wastelands to spend one night in Amoi, save for the women and children of Gardan.

Yet, Jupiter adored Iason since he came out of Watch, in which he was aged to sixty-years-old with aid of Jupiter's magic. Fourteen years of schooling, five years apprenticeship, and forty years of employment later, raved on by teachers and masters alike, and Iason had become the most respectable man in Tanagura. Beyond even that, he led the continent from a world war. A rebel army of some sorts came from the southern Great Forests and had actually gotten a hold of some arms. With the solid battlefront of neighboring Jan and Aristia, the army was dismantled with peace negotiations led by Iason Mink himself. Not a single drop of blood shed.

Domestics issues, from small-time, robberies by Ceres mongrels, to humiliating fiascoes of Elite conspiracies against the state, were brought down, sometimes with Iason only nodding once.

Though backed by the best of Tanagura's police, Iason's personal bodyguards had numerous amounts of experience, many small, but one had once guarded the Eye of Minagi, a feline god popular in the countries of Xeron and Lumbi. The Eye was actually a blue diamond roughly the size of a cauldron, rumored to have special powers. That guard had been up against all sorts of voodoo working there, and had killed aplenty.

Of course, he had servants, but one particular servant, his Furniture, has accrued all the respect as his former Furniture. Iason was loathe to see him go but he was passing- had passed regular time limits and the age set. It was only reputable to get a new one soon.

These feelings came hardest in these times of stressful change. Or when he didn't have a Pet, like now, but, at others' request, an acquirement of a new one- a fantastic creature just pushing the guidelines- didn't lessen the feeling in the least, only deterred it, let it fester.

And now again it was keeping him up into the night.

Another was up at that late hour with a solution-less problem of his own.

Raoul Am kicked the dead Pet at his feet, just to make sure he was dead. The boy's face matched the terrific blue of his hair. Eyes bulged out and stuck, he almost looked funny. Unlike most of the others Raoul had strangled impulsively, this boy's tongue hadn't moved; his mouth had been clamped shut. It was sort of admirable, how he had not even tried to fight, the resignation feeling more loyal than anything. Maybe that's why his face turned so blue.

The Pet had been a gift from some merchant who sold to big people and big names. He had liked one of Raoul's more spectacular paintings. A picture of the Aristian coast caked with a rainforest it was. A reddish-orange bird flew indistinctly amongst the rays of sunset. The merchant had said it was a nice touch and had given him the three million gold piece pet. Though the pet had been great, obedient, he did have a habit of being flirtatious and flippant. But that wasn't why Raoul killed him; the killing itself wasn't a problem.

It was a new moon. Nights like this, Raoul stayed home, feverish. Every one of his nerves felt like it was wired to its on little switchboard, all systems go, and the smallest trifle set him off. He learned this early from several canings in school. His friend Omaki Ghan made the comment calmly during a study hour. The advice made all the difference to whether Raoul eventually made it to Blondiehood.

Raoul had ordered for the Pet to copulate that night; his ravenous mood demanded it despite the Show just a few hours before. The Blondie's blood ran too quickly, uncontrollably, and a Bar fell from his back, as the Bar usually did when he passed the threshold of its containment. The Pet had screamed. Raoul stopped him.

A Bar usually consisted of some metal or gem from the weak tin to diamond, infused with the paradoxical magic that stopped magic from forming, stopped energy flow or blood running. What the advanced world called Spirit. In some societies, Spirit is what holds the soul to the body, or at least the brain and heart. Spirit is what helped humanoids transform into their complete animal or human selves, though most chose a middle between both. It helped people lift objects without touching them, fly, shoot lightning and rain from the sky or their hands, shout words that killed a person instantly, and stopped growth, hearing, or speech for a long-lasting torment.

In Amoi, Jupiter eliminated such differentiation, biologically and by law. One of her biggest lessons to growing Blondies: Differences brought conflict. However, beyond that, lie only the destruction of those differences. Be the same as possible, be in control, narrow your thoughts. They were reminded that they would never be able to comprehend Jupiter's laws and judgments fully, but they will always have the capacity to obey.

In this instance, when at times a diamond-plated gold Bar would fall from Raoul's back and a thick, white silver-striped tail slithered loose behind him, Jupiter and society expected him to turn himself in and be put to death. No other punishment existed for those who hid such features- point blank, no Blondie can live as a humanoid no more a humanoid could become a Blondie. But what made Raoul fight was his opinion that it was Jupiter's fault.

The first time his humanoid (Part-Cat, he assumed he was) pieces appeared, he had been masturbating to Iason Mink doing the same in the shower room. He was on the other side by the lockers when the young Blondie came in. Three had fallen out then to reveal he had stripes, a tail, and claws. Oh, and his hair was a bit grayer. Anyway, it was his eleventh year in school, new moon.

He hadn't put in the Bars, of course. The one from his back required a flexibility that he damn well didn't possess. So, some fucker had let him through in Watch. Hadn't Jupiter seen him up close, once? Had anyone? Sure, if someone had and he got sent to some work camp, or executed even, he wouldn't be here now. But he didn't want to go down as another one of her fucking statistics, as proof.

As a Blondie, he could kill a Pet a week for some crappy reason and still be a respectable Blondie, even more so for some. Yet, as humanoid, as some being whose superstitious ancestors merged with mystical animals eons ago, he was a crazy murderer, ready to kill anyone.

What's more, all Blondies supposedly came from Jupiter through science and some miraculous power of creation. How was he born as some dreaded mutant?

Raoul pondered this, feeling shocked and dulled at the same time, and pressed the Bar as close as possible to where he felt it fall. It was made well, for it aligned itself to wherever it needed to be and the tail disappeared. He simply stared ahead with his hard neon blue eyes, seeing nothing but the turmoil inside. He didn't see his pretty, kneeling Furniture frozen at the door's right corner. If he did, he would have pressured him. How much had he seen? He wouldn't know that the boy knew everything. A person's lying skills increased dramatically when he was being choked to death.

"Master," the Furniture spoke softly, "would you like for me to call Omaki?"

Raoul glanced at the now standing Furniture. "Do it."

Calling Omaki really meant getting a private team dispatched to remove the body, but Omaki called the shots.

When the team had come and gone, Raoul left his condo, leaving his poor Furniture to fend against the ghosts alone.

Xian Sami, too, traversed the streets. He didn't live far from Raoul, but they wouldn't meet that night. Instead, Xian went an opposite way, into a Midas park, still pretty close to Tanagura. He was the only Blondie with golden eyes and it helped him see at night, even 2 o' clock at night in the middle of an evergreen forest on a new moon.

Problems and perturbed feelings plagued Xian, had been for the longest. His eyes were just the beginning. They sometimes glowed and pulsed and he could see things others couldn't- like ghosts, which crowded around him tonight. Dead, overripe Blondies and Elites speaking some ghost language, keeping him wide awake.

But what woke him wasn't them. It was the missing feeling, strong and relentless. Xian was fortunate enough to know what exactly it was. His past Pet, of five whole years ago, had aged out. He had him for two years, way beyond the decent limit, but there weren't many questions. The Pet was beautiful, sweet and naughty all at once. Always kind. Able to make the finest conversation while brushing his hair- mermaids were coming to the aquarium, Soofie hair products dyed your hair pink after prolonged use, things like that.

Jupiter had sent a message that the Pet was too old, surely, to be of much more entertainment, so Xian, most opposed to giving his Pet up to Furniturehood for a nice sum, but definitely not wanting him to sludge through brothel after brothel until he wound up on some doctor's table with one kidney, signed him to the last resort: Monik's Black Star Mines, just outside Midas, quite a travel away.

Horribly naive, Xian believed that the Pet, who never had to buy his own clothes, would be in good hands, fooled by Monik's soothing smile and list of amenities: private room with bath and magic mirrors, Dimension videos and pictures and surf the Dim (hand and Spirit-operated devices to watch just about anything on a mirror, and expensive as hell), kitchenette, free clothing, and of course wages, but with free food. There were beds and coaches, desks with chairs, common rooms with mirror and electronic games. Private rooms, music rooms- the fun went on and on, and Xian sold his beautiful Pet for a heftier sum than Furniturehood and brotheldom combined.

Besides, being Secretary of Amoi, Xian never had very bad pets, never Pets that he had to send away to some horrible fate. Thus, he didn't know the mine was reserved for those utterly desperate for work and ready for death, and for intractable Pets whose Masters were too squeamish to kill a human being.

If Xian had told anyone, they would have been completely astounded, since Xian seemed so taken with the Pet. But he told no one, thinking that his embarrassing possessiveness of his Pet would be evident.

Then, unable to wrap his mind around another Pet, he got a Furniture. He had no need of one before because he hardly ever spent a night at home, enjoying the presence of Pets and friends more than anything. The young Furniture was a total gossip, hilarious, and hated the feeling of other people's hair. But later, after just a year, he turned himself in for a flying ability he developed. Luckily for him (and that is the biggest understatement ever made), Amoi's Messenger had been killed on a mission en route to Xeron. Now, that Furniture held the title of Messenger.

And Xian had dreams of them both in his empty apartment. Toma, the socialite dreadfully alone on horrible spy missions, worked on him. His Pet's horrible living in the mine, working all hours of the day with hardly a bite to eat and too tired to enjoy his outdated 'amenities' tormented Xian even during the day.

It was shameful for him to be so attached to rather insignificant people, but a lot of things were falling apart. His visions came unbidden during War and Domestic meetings and business conferences. One time at a party the guests caught him staring at a hallway wall, lost in a nasty summoning. In the privacy of his home, the Pet and Furniture ignored this.

Xian missed them so much.

Another certain Blondie was missing something. Everything. Above him, a rather handsome mongrel pulled and pushed inside him, working at a furious pace. The mongrel didn't know he was fucking a Blondie. Drink and drugs did a number even to those used to it in the slum town of Ceres.

The Blondie didn't know much of anything either, except the deep thrusts stabbed shallowly into everything that was gone in that moment. This Blondie believed in instant gratification, screw the rules. Anyone against him could have a fatal mistake of long ago resurrected. He relied on these bribes before and had no qualms on using them again and again. Nights like these made his evil deeds worth it.

On the other side of Ceres where Omaki and the nameless drunk mongrel moved lustfully in a hotel bed, Eadni Elusiax also had a man atop him- a beast actually. Poor Elusiax could only breathe in small spurts underneath the ton of weight. On the other side of his room were the young sleeping Blondies, who Elusiax supervised as a Watcher. Their chamber centered on the eighty-eighth floor of the tower, the tower alone in some secret dimension. To the outside world, they would stay in the Watch Tower for only two years, but in that warped space the first sixty years of a Blondie's life passed. The same sixty years since the beginning of Amoian time.

When this unclassified Blondie-looking Elite leaves Watch, the memories of the sixty years and the growing Blondies would disappear, and the children he raised will not remember him.

Elusiax knew this, and felt that panicking over this scary mongrel insignificant in the bigger picture. Even if the mongrel had five tails, it was cute the way his ears flickered in his heavily drunken sleep. One of his arms squeezed Elusiax's torso, further shortening his breath. The mongrel's head made a pillow out of Elusiax's head. With a small wiggle, the Elite felt a thigh with the tip of his toe. Well above the mongrel's knees.

At least seven feet!

And he was so hot. Mid-winter probably did him no favors, or perhaps it cooled him down?

Elusiax had no idea why he had these thoughts at these times, but it kept him from falling asleep. The mongrel was surprisingly comfortable to be so heavy, his husky alcohol-induced smell soothed Elusiax a bit. That familiar, protective arm... But if the drunk mongrel awoke to find himself cuddling a Blondie; that scenario scared the Elite. On the other side were just Blondies of fifty-eight years, adorable things that Elusiax loved dearly. He suddenly feared for them. He began trying to move away.

As soon as he moved a good inch, the mongrel awoke, murmuring, "Riki!" Then, more softly, "Riki?"

Elusiax pretended to sleep.

"Where am I?" Fuck, dropped off in a fuckin' loony bin. Where the hell am I? Who's this?"

The blood ran cold in Elusiax's veins as the mongrel unveiled him in the dark, lifting the thin blanket from his shoulders.

"This ain't no Iason," he whispered. "What the fuck?"

After what may have been more staring, the mongrel Sprung away, out of the dimension, probably.

Springen is voluntary instant teleportation, either by Spirit or Psyche, as opposed to magic spell (where then it is called warping) or flying. Psyche itself is the extremely dangerous disposition to cause any supernatural event, i.e. Springen, without any physical consequence, lost of Spirit or energy or magical reserve. Any degree of Psyche usually met with negative reviews, Springen got just a little more leeway.

But that didn't matter to Elusiax; he didn't sweat the small stuff himself. The foul-mouthed mongrel did not hurt him. So Elusiax checked on the babes to soothe his nerves, and then went back to sleep, dreaming of the faceless beast.

"Everything is there, except his face," Heiku Quiahtenon muttered, groggy from sleep. His dream man was a Bondie with his class ring. The man sat in a chair with a glass of wine inhis hand, simple clothes with white boots, suit, and cape. But his face was still missing. It had been forming Yousi Xuuju's face, his ten years dead face.

Heiku looked at his arm, which always ached after these dreams. It was prosthetic. He lost it in his temporary bout of insanity, but remade one with metal, glass, Spirit, blood, and a shit ton of illegal magical spells. As lead doctor and surgeon of Tanagura's Medical Center, no one was that surprised. He had once done brain surgery, leaving the patient with only mere vestiges of her brain. Yet the young woman had all her memories and learned three languages afterward. Heiku wished he could pull his own memory of Yousi out and away.

Fortunately, his mind would be occupied that following day, as like his friends aforementioned. Team 98, Elusiax's team, would be coming out of Watch with the new generation.

To Heiku and the soon-to-be hungover Omaki and the rest, Elusiax has been gone for two years. Just as the faceless, five-tailed mongrel Sprung through Jupiter's dimensions and back next to some random lover, months had passed for Elusiax. By morning the young Blondies were sixty-years-old, ready to enter school and confront Konami sung, Headmaster of Tanagura Elite Academy. Their minds will be full of buried memories, but the residue of the memories' emotions remained, which could explain Elusiax's magnetic personality to most Blondies younger than him.

Being a Watcher wasn't exactly the most intellectual job out there. Apprenticeship consisted of tutoring and chaperoning students at the Academy for about seven years. If one passed, they were trained for a 'month' (eight years) to take care of young Blondies. They were told they were fifty-nine. In reality, most were hardly a year.

But that was a long, well-kept story.

Anyway, for the Head Sovereign and Surgeon, the Secretary of the State, Foreign Affairs and Domestic Affairs (the leaders of the War Council), to take a day off from their infinitely busy schedule to meet a mere Watcher made said Watcher very special indeed.

Still, many a Blondie were sad to see Elusiax leave every one year to spend two years in Watch. Many were also disgruntled when it became apparent that the Sovereign and his friends had dibs on the man when he came back, picking him up straight from the Academy ballroom. But that was only after the Welcoming Ceremony. Elusiax always stayed behind along with the newer Watchers and apprentices to see the new generation welcomed into the hard, unforgiving arms of Konami Sung.

Most Watchers chose their job because it required very little work other the, essentially, babysitting, and it still paid very well. Plus, they couldn't remember any of their kids, so they didn't bother with the Ceremony after awhile; their paychecks were waiting.

Obviously, Elusiax could care less about money. He often carried a huge bag around filled with money and gifts for younger Elites and his ward Suuki. His passion was for the younger generation.

The Blondies were all going to be tired once they met Elusiax, but their reunion fulfilled the missing, at least for a day.

--------Anyone wanna beta for me? Sorry for all the mistakes!

--------Oh, yea: Please review!