Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Note: This was originally published under xHooshikox, but I have since changed my email, and forgot which one I was using then . . . Also, I've done some editing to the chapters I've had written, and decided to revert to the original ending I had planned. With some minor changes and new characters. I will try to update every Tuesday if I can, and if demand . . . Demands it. lol.

Lost Among the Stars

Chapter One - Amnesia

I awoke to sensation of extreme cold. I opened my eyes, though they felt heavy with fatigue. Snow was falling on me, as I leaned against a cold wall; perhaps that of a building. People walked by, in heavy winter coats, hats, and mittens. I rubbed my bare arms, trying to keep off the chill. It didn't help much; I was wearing a thin t shirt, and jeans. Something slipped down my nose - my glasses, I thought vaguely. So I wore glasses. I looked over the tops of the lenses. I need them too, I thought. I could barely distinguish the moving blobs of blur as people. I suppressed a shudder as I stood. I was getting very cold. Something told me that moving would help, so I joined the throngs of people walking the streets. I tried to think of how'd I'd gotten to be sleeping against that building. As I was thinking, I didn't pay attention to where I was walking, and I bumped into someone.

"Watch it! Who do you think you are, anyway?" the man said, before I could apologize. As the full impact of his words hit me, I froze. Who was I? People passed me on either side, walking by me as if I was just another obstacle in their path. Most people had a name, that I was sure of. I racked my brain, trying to find my name. I panicked, standing there in those snowy streets. I realized that I didn't know who I was, how I had gotten here, even where 'here' was. I looked over the snowy streets, cars and buses passing by, just as heedless as the passerby. A car, speeding by, splashed me with slush, bringing me to my present situation. I was going to freeze if I didn't get somewhere warm, and fast. I began to walk again, deciding to worry about my lack of self later. Surviving was much more important. I don't know how long I walked, the cold, snowy winds numbing me. I slowed as I approached a group of people standing under a plastic shelter, near a sign. A bus stop, I thought. And buses were heated. I walked into the shelter, welcoming the break from the freezing wind. A few people gave me odd looks. I looked down at myself, surprised to see that my t shirt had frozen in places. I hadn't even noticed. I brushed some stray hair from in front of my eyes, really noticing it for the first time. It was short, hanging around my chin. It was vibrant shade of red, another reason why people were staring at me, I figured. I stood in the shelter, warmed by people crowded together, though I saw people trying to keep a step or two away from me. I shrugged. If I saw someone like me, I'd probably avoid me too. It had only been a few minutes, and a bus pulled up. I let the others get on before me, not wanting to be noticed. I stepped onto the bus, and before I could sit down, the driver stopped me.

"Miss? That'll be a hundred yen." I stared at him blankly, before realizing that yen was currency.

"I'm sorry. Hold on sec, please?" I said, digging through the pockets in my jeans. His face softened as he gave me a second look.

"Don't worry about it. Just take a seat."

"Thank you, sir." I smiled at him. I took a seat window seat, near the front. The driver closed the doors, and pulled into the street. "Excuse me, sir; I was wondering . . . Could you tell me where I am?" He looked at me in the mirror.

"We're in Tokyo. In Japan." he said, looking slightly worried. I nodded. It made sense. Yen was the currency of Japan. "Miss, are you alright?"

"I think so."

"Something happened to you. Your lips are blue; you don't even have a coat. Where're your parents?"

"I don't know. I woke up down the street, against some building. I don't know how I got there." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Yumi'll never forgive me . . . What's your name?"

"I don't know." he shook his head again.

"I'm Arakawa Taro. If you don't have anywhere else to go, you're welcome to stay with me." I looked at him, and I immediately knew that I could trust him. I just felt that his intentions were good.

"Thank you. I'd appreciate that a lot, Arakawa-san."

"Don't mention it. Tell me, does your head hurt?" I looked at him, confused. I felt the back of my head. No pain at all.

"Nope. I'm just cold." He frowned as he pulled up to another stop. Some school kids got on. But after the last one got on, Arakawa-san still waited.

"Hurry up," he called, slightly annoyed. The last boy got on, amid cries from the girls left at the stop. His hair was long, mid-way down his back. It was an even stranger colour than mine, reddish fuscia.

"I'm sorry, sir." he said, putting his money in the box. He looked so familiar . . . It was as if I had seen him before. I watched him as he sat down a few seats across from me. I studied his face. It bothered me, why should I know his face, when I didn't know my own? I frowned, drawing my knees to my chest in an effort to keep warm.

"Hey, miss, is something wrong?"

"Not really, it's just that . . ." I broke off, sensing that Arakawa-san wasn't the only one listening.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, don't strain yourself. I get off in a few hours, then I'll take you home, get you some warmer clothes." I smiled at him.

"You're very kind, Arawaka-san." He snorted.

"I'm just doing the right thing. Any body else would do the same." I smiled again, and leaned back in my seat. I waited a few minutes, before turning to that face again. His stare met mine, and I quickly looked to my shoes, blushing. I played with one of the laces. Something was written on it. I squinted as I tried to make out the faint lettering. It seemed to be different then when I had written it . . . I tried to remember what it had looked like originally, but my head started to throb. I let the shoelace drop, and wrapped my arms tighter around my legs, wishing the pain away. Just as the last waves of pain began to fade, what was written on my laces popped into my mind. 'I love Kurama' over and over. Then everything came together, as I looked once again to the boy across from me. My eyes widened.

"Kurama!" I whispered to myself. Images of him came to me. Wielding a whip made out of a rose, surrounded by girls, with companions, a short, intense looking guy, with red eyes (Hiei, something told me), a greaser (Urameshi Yusuke), and some guy with curly-red hair, gelled into a pompadour (Kuwabara Kazuma). I ran my hand through my hair and glared at him. Kurama or Minamino Shuuichi. Whichever.