Authoress' Note: Thank You for reading this story. I will only bug you once, right here, in the beginning! (Nice, huh?) I want to say that while this is an old character, I took an old story, rewrote it and made it new again. Like a used car, really. Please read enjoy and get ready for the standard disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I do not own any Yu Yu Hakusho characters nor do I own Automail.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

-YB YEATS

It was a long, hard day and rain pounded at the windows as a young woman slid out of her lab coat and tugged the overly large sweater over her head and sighed. Mousy brown hair streaked with premature grey fell around her shoulders in dull waves that were unattractive and frizzy despite the rain water that dripped off the tips. Casting a quick glance at the mirror near the door she groaned and padded off to the bathroom, leaving wet little prints on the floor from her soaked socks. Pulling her hair away from her plain face with a broken and retied rubber band she stared for a second at the person looking back at her. From behind large wire glasses weary eyes the color of rainwater stared meekly at the word, crows feet already leaving their traces at the corners of her eyes. Dark circles marred the pale and vaguely freckled skin under her eyes and she sighed, turning around and pulling on an overly large t-shirt to cover her body up with.

Stepping quietly into the living room/kitchen/dining room of the three room flat, she stepped over a few books to sit in the only chair. It was large, overstuffed and torn in a few places, rescued from a dump pile. Otherwise, the fridge was empty, the dining table falling into misuse was covered in text books and the only source of entertainment came from a large stereo system. It has been a rough day and to work off the tension, she turned on the surround sound and blared the first song that the CD gave up and leaned back. The music drowned out the rain, the sounds of people below having their usual fights and soon enough, there was only the guitar, the singer and the drums, the noise so heavy she thought she was going to drown in it…

Oh, Johnny wishes he was famous/Spends his time alone/In the basement/With Lennon and Cobain/A guitar and a stereo/While he wishes he/Could escape this/It all seems so contagious/Not to be yourself and faceless/In a song that has no soul/

Somewhere in Japan, a young man headed home, carrying the groceries his mother had sent him out for. Rain had begun to fall and he regretted not asking her to drive him there but shrugged it off. Looking around the quickly darkening sky he smiled to himself, enjoying the world around him.

He was slender, with the body of a gymnast. A shock of rose red hair fell around his face and past his shoulders, the bangs falling around his large green eyes. Dressed in a warm black jacket over a plain white t-shirt and khaki slacks, he had a calm air around him as he hummed a song he had recently heard on the radio. Really, it was silly, his mood being so upbeat in weather so dismal, but he had never been one to let such trivial things bring him down. Looking up at the sunless sky he wondered if the weather would improve but reminded himself that it was winter and bad weather just came with the territory.

Making his way down the sidewalk, he noted carefully that the rainwater was making the pavement slick and walked a little more cautiously.

I remember feeling low/I remember losing hope/I remember all the feelings/ And the day they stopped/ We are,/We are all innocent, we are all innocent/We are, we are, we are/ We are all innocent, we are all innocent/We are, we are/

Fumbling around his dashboard, a man groaned as some American song blared out of the radio. His daughter had left her CD in the player and he wasn't a fan of the music she listened to. Flipping the windshield wipers on causally his eyes were everywhere but on the road. A few high school girls ran by his car, out of the rain to a friend house and he smiled. Sure, he was married, but it couldn't hurt to look.

Buzzing around the seat next to him, his cell alerted him a call from said wife with a polyphonic version of Beethoven's fifth and he flipped the small electronic on and rolled his eyes. The conversation was quick, like all of them lately. Did you remember the eggs? Yes. Akari's having girls over tonight for a sleepover, don't tease her. I won't. Will you be home soon? Given the traffic, no. And with that, it was over as he turned the corner and much to his surprise, his wheels lost traction, his car careening off the road and onto the pavement. There was the sickening thud of a body being hit against the front of his Mitsubishi and he swore, slamming the brakes as his car continued into a wrought iron fence of an unassuming house.

Oh, Tina's losing faith in what she knows/Hates her music/Hates her clothes/ Thinks of Surgery/And a new nose/Every calorie is a war/While she wishes she was a dancer/And that she'd never/Heard of cancer/She wishes God would give her/Some answers/And make her feel beautiful.

Leaning deeper into her chair, the girl bounced her head to the music when a hand rested on her shoulder. Jumping in surprise, she looked up to see a man who happened to be a good friend. Tall and British, he had a well educated look about him in his smooth white shirts and pressed grey slacks. Turning down the music he sighed and shook his head slowly.

"Rita, I understand you like your music loud, but this is rather outrageous. You'll get kicked out by the landlord if you keep this up!" he gave her a stern look with his sharp grey eyes but it was ruined by the worry that snuck up and tugged his eyebrows together.

"It'll all work out, Riles," she replied with a pout, trying to snatch the remote away from his hands but he pocketed it and walked away into the kitchen to stare at the answering machine which glowed dimly.

"68 messages. When was the last time you checked this thing?"

"A few months ago. I'm not home often."

"Obviously. This flat is horrendous! Do you realize how messy your floors are!? Do you even have floors?!?!"

"You're being childish, now then, c'mere," she waved him over with her left hand and he obliged, leaning against the back of the chair.

"What do you need me for now? I'm at your beck and call, no wonder my wife is incensed!" he whined, placing a well groomed hand on her messy head.

"Just sit back and listen to this refrain…" she whispered, turning up the volume once more.

One day/You'll have to let it go/Oh/One day/You'll stand up on your own, you'll stand up on your own/Yeah/Remember losing hope/Remember all the feeling and the day they stopped.

"I have no clue where the kid came from!!" the man in Mitsubishi cried out to the police as the medics arrived, sirens blaring, breaking the fragile silence of the suburban area. The cop shook his head and scribbled a few things down on his notepad and looked up at the man and spoke a little louder to combat the noise of the commotion around them.

"Sir, what where you doing at the point of impact?"

What was the man going to say? After all, it WAS his fault, he wasn't looking at the road and the weather conditions.

"I was turning the corner like a responsible citizen when I hit a rain puddle and this young man was on the road! I tried to veer out of the way and I clipped him and ran into that fence!" he waved his hands through the air and policeman nodded his head again and looked over at the child.

Unconscious, the teen was sprawled on the sidewalk, groceries scattered around him, red hair fanned out and soaked. Blood was seeping into the gutters from an unknown location and one leg was obviously broken. The medics were gonna have a hard time with this one.

One MT moved him to a stiff back board and onto the gurney, closing up the car behind him as it drove off. The man in the Mitsubishi groaned and looked at the impact damage on his car.

"Insurance better pay this! What kinda dumb kid jumps in front of a car?" even though he knew it was a lie, he griped anyway. It would at least make a good argument for the insurance company.

"I'm sure they will, sir."

Just barely, the last strains of the song on the car's stereo reached them.

We are/We are all innocent, we are all innocent/We are, we are, we are/We are all innocent, we are all innocent/We are, we are/We are/We all innocent/(One day, you'll have to let it go, you'll have to let it go)/We are all innocent/we are, we are, we are/ We are all innocent/We are, we are

Turning down the volume once more, Riles looked around the room and sure enough, the telephone's ringing caught his ear. Getting up he picked the small black device out of its cradle and sighed.

"Thompson residence, this is Robert Riles speaking, what can I do for you?"

Standing in front of the windows, annoyed, his toe tapping out a tattoo on the carpet he sighed and motioned for Rita who shook her head at him.

"Is it really important that you talk to her??" there was a pause and then Riles looked over, suddenly rather serious. Covering the receiver with one hand he nodded over to Rita who looked rather annoyed and glared at him over the top of her chair.

"I don't wanna talk to those sharks!!" she hissed but Riles' sharp glares made her fall silent and pout slightly.

"This might be our last chance," his look said it all. Falling silent she looked at her partner with large, hopeful eyes.

"Really?"

"Yes."

It didn't take her long before she was up and out of the living room, racing into the bedroom. Rummaging around her closet, she haphazardly pulled out her old duffel bag and threw the clothes closest to her into it's cavernous depths filled with old fabric softener sheets and a few long since lost socks, left for dead. Racing back into the living room she grabbed an armful of books and did her best to once more, stuff them into the already bulging bag. Finally succeeding in closing the zipper she sighed and lugged it outside once more and dropped it near the door before darting out once more to find her toothbrush.

Riles, sighed, leaning against the window and stared out at the city below. He was rather amazed that Rita hadn't been thrown out yet, considering her knew she hadn't paid her rent in an age, though he was always nagging her. Drawers were being slammed open and shut in the bathroom as she continued her search so Riles helped himself to searching through her mail, filled with long since past dues, library fines for the book on her dining room table and chain letters. She didn't have any friends to send her postcards from exotic locations, no family to write her letters asking how she's doing in the big city all by herself, if she had enough money and if she'd met a nice young man yet.

Sighing, he pushed himself off the window sill, looking through the small area.

In sharp contrast to Rita, Riles was attractive, has always been so since high school. Smart, sharp with clear grey eyes that were vaguely slanted thanks to some unknown branch in his family tree, dark brown hair cut cleanly above his ears, smooth as silk. His lean form was always professional, crisply dressed. Smooth hands that had never seen a hard days work were stretched out before him as he stared at his manicured nails. Surgeon's hands. Glinting in moonlight was his wedding ring. He smiled and spun it around the digit before Rita rushed to the door.

"You might want to be more presentably dressed, darling," He drawled, not even looking up at her, sighing.

"Oh…" She stopped, looking down at her frumpy clothes; the large t-shirt covered in small paint smatters from when she remodeled his house last summer during a dry streak in their business.

"Yes… 'Oh'. Go get changed, take a bath, look nice," he shooed her away with his hands and sighed, shaking his head, exasperated. How she had survived this long without him was a wonder still. Still blaring out of the Stereo were the lyrics from whatever band she was currently grooving on.

We are/We are all innocent/(One day, you'll stand up on your own, stand up on your own). We are all innocent/we are, we are, we are/ We are all innocent, we are all innocent/ we are, we are/

Groaning, he turned the blaring noise off with the remote, the ruckus immediately replaced with the sound of Rita bathing. Water was sloshing onto the floor and Rita singing along with the song, unaware that it had been shut down by her partner, as she had started from the beginning.

Opening his cell and dialing his travel agent, Riles had two tickets booked to Japan, glad that his friend still had connections, even when his own had withered and died. Of course, it happens when on spends all their time chasing some child's fantasy. Around five minutes later, after a little more snooping, Riles decided that he should check on her, about to knock on the bathroom door the instant it flew open.

"You turned my music off?" she demanded, pulling on a thick argyle sweater and kidskin gloves.

"It happens to be loud, annoying, and It was giving me a headache," Riles quipped, handing her a pair of khaki slacks to pull on and a belt.

"I happen to LIKE them," she glared over her shoulder, but it was spoiled by the dark circles under her eyes. She looked more like some J-horror character than an angry teen.

"Well, I don't. Are you done yet?"

"Just a moment," she tugged on a pair of brown boots before grabbing her duffels and laptop and nodding. "Yup."

"Good…" he set out, just in time to hear her play the last lines of the song before switching off the stereo once more.

We are… We are all innocent…

"I'm going to leave without you!" he called out through the hall, tugging at his own jacket as she raced towards him, pulling her hair away from her face into a low ponytail.

"You wouldn't dare!" Rita stuck out her tongue, every bit the child as he hailed a cab and sighed, sliding into his seat, and despite himself, singing the last refrain of the song under his breath.

"We are… We are all innocent…"