Disclaimer: this story is based on the movie Stigmata and the characters of Card Captor Sakura on both of which I hold no claim. This is for entertaining purposes only.

Stigmata

Prologue

In a little town deep inside Brazil a crowd of people saturated the dirt roads. Many of them carried on their backs big cruxes of heavy wood and dressed like Jesus of Nazareth while others walked on their knees with candles in their hands completely dressed in white. The common expression was that of suffering and their eyes held a glassed-over effect linked to that of profound feeling; a feeling so deep that made you numb.

Inside the crowd, mixed in with the townspeople was a man who looked every-bit the tourist. If not by his coloring, his clothes easily gave him away; that with the dark pants made of durable fabric, black cotton shirt coupled with a jacket of the same color and brown utility boots. He sported Ray-Ban shades in an Aviator style on his aquiline nose that covered his eyes entirely and hid most of the upper part of his face. He followed the reenacting crowd into a church where he promptly headed towards a priest.

"Who's in charge?" - Asked the man in English heavily accented with a British intonation.

"Father Maurice," - replied another with haste looking visibly anxious.

"Please take me to him," - the church was bursting at its seams with people.

"He passed on, this is his funeral," - the Father signaled a coffin located at the center of the altar, "are you the one they sent to investigate?"

"Yes."

The young priest looked more relaxed now that the person he had been waiting for had finally arrived. He guided the newcomer efficiently through the throng of people and towards the alter where the body of the late priest peacefully laid at the feet of a Virgin Mary statue crying tears of blood before burial.

The foreigner set promptly to work, tuning out the chants and indignant stares of the people who thought it to be an intrusion to their sacred prayers. He hit the pedestal with his bare hands and then a metal stick trying to find it hollow but the sound came out dry. Standing up, he did the same with the statue itself with the same result. His eyes where transfixed on the empty ones of the statue that had trails of thick red liquid down its cheeks emanating from its eyes as if it was actually crying.

He took a Canon professional camera from his backpack and took many shots of the statue after having removed his shades baring deep blue eyes for the world to see.


"Father Hiiragizawa! Praised the Lord to have you finally here! How was your trip to Brazil?" - Greeted a man in his early fifties dressed in the robes of those of higher station than him who was addressed.

"Father Hoffmann, it was a quiet trip thank you." - Said the younger man with a shallow bow of the neck.

"So tell me, what did you bring me?"

Both males were now seated around a table inside a richly furnished and fairly sized room in the company of another. An opened manila folder laid on top of other papers with photos strewn all over it.

"Why are you showing me photos of a crying statue when you were sent to investigate over the image of a virgin on the side of a building?"

Father Hiiragizawa pinched the bridge of his nose but showed no other signs of fatigue or discomfort. "I found that the image was nothing more than a mixture of oxide product of a leak in the pipe system and the citizen's imagination. When I was there, however, I caught word of this particular statue and set to investigate."

"This is important to us because?" - Asked Hoffmann with slight exasperation.

"This is not a fake. I've been traveling around the world investigating miracles and dismantling them but I think there's something real in this one," - began the young fellow and continued after seeing the arched eyebrow in the other man's face, "look at those pictures. They were taken with x-rays to see if the statue was hollow but it shows that it's made of pure stone and the tears are white because they're warm. I gathered samples of the liquid and the tests showed that its warm human blood."

This news seemed to be of little importance to the higher-stationed priest. "How many crying statues have we investigated in the past twelve months? Certainly too many that I've lost count. Did you bring it here?"

That was something that the traveler had intended to do but did not. "That statue is the foundation of those people's faith."

"The church is the foundation of faith. You should have brought it here so we could have it tested by a group of experts."

"Please send me back to Brazil," - pleaded the azure-eyed father, "I'd like to continue my investigation."

"That is of no consequence to us and it certainly wasn't in your assignment. Father Darien will give you instructions for your next assignment. Good day Father Hiiragizawa."

He was dismissed just like that but he could not retaliate.


It was eleven in the evening, there was humidity in the air and the streets of the Nishi-Azabu area in Tokyo were damp but that did not stop the throngs of people walking up and down the sidewalks with their minds set on destinations that only they knew about.

At a table in the VIP area of club Yellow, one of the best in all of Tokyo, was a couple and a girl having a round of vodka while talking and laughing about one thing or another that more often than not had to be shouted over the loud music to make sure that they got the message across. A young woman with dark hair, almost black with shades of blue; and smoky-violet eyes was practically draped over a man with sandy brown hair and green eyes who had a cigarette between his kissable lips giving it a long pull.

"... And I met this totally gorgeous man at a park, well, rather bumped into him; and I was like 'wow'!" - Said the woman who had brilliant emerald eyes set in twin rows of long and thick eyelashes enhanced by dark eye shadow and mascara sitting across from the couple.

The raven haired woman let out a girlish giggle before downing another shot of vodka. "I say go for it, if you see him again that is."

"I don't think I can work up the nerve," said the other girl with a sudden rush of color to her cheeks that went completely unnoticed by the couple thanks to the bright laser lights in the building that made forms to blur and colors to mix.

The man was nibbling at his partner's right earlobe but the girl had enough presence of mind to reply. "Aw, don't worry about it... I'm sure you'll manage, I have faith in you, girlfriend!" - The last words coming out in a higher pitch because her boyfriend had hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

A couple of hours went by in which the three of them enjoyed some other rounds of vodka and then decided to mix it with tequila, danced a bit and talked some more until they all deemed it a night.

"Are you too tired or want to go to my place?" - Slurred the smoky-violet girl with a sultry voice and seductive smile.

The man smirked and kissed her on the lips before replying. "I'm not dead yet babe."

"Will we catch up tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Don't we always, Sakura?" - Inquired her friend rather than answered while taking her purse from the table and keeping her boyfriend's hands from sneaking under her tight mini-skirt.

"You're right. See you at L'atelier!" - Beamed the one named Sakura unsteadily rising making an open declaration that she was indeed wasted for the night.

Tsutsuku

AN: Hello readers! I have to say that I wrote this in a whim after watching the movie. I am not entirely sure as to what I am aiming to with this and it has been a while since I last posted something so my writing might have become rusty. Still I would like for you to drop your comments in a review. This is in a trial stage so your opinions are highly appreciated.