About this story: I was so disappointed by 'Gemini of the Meteor' that I don't even consider it canon. Just one point in a very long list of complaints is that it raised far more questions than it tried to answer!

So, 'Tabula Rasa' is my own version of a DtB 'season two'. It ignores everything from Shikoku no Hana and Gemini of the Meteor, and it starts roughly two years after the events of season one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Darker than BLACK.

Chapter One:

Memory of a Darkness Darker than Black…

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Behind a set of trash bins in a small Tokyo park, a black cat dozed in a patch of sunlight.

Somewhere beyond the trash bins came a faint electronic beeping. The sound would grow louder, then fade away before another crescendo. Eventually it became loud enough that the cat twitched awake and perked up its head to listen. A tiny bell on its collar chimed and was still.

Suddenly the beeping became frantic, growing steadily louder as whatever the source was approached the trash bins, along with a rustle of hurried footsteps through grass. Clumsy human footsteps.

The cat tensed. It was no friend to humans, though it cautiously accepted food offerings they left out. But humans at close range were bad news. Something that ran deeper than instinct flashed through the cat's mind, and it leaped to its feet just as the approaching human reached the bins.

In the next instant the cat was off, a streak of darkness across the afternoon sunlight. It cut straight through the park, then veered into a network of tangled side streets. Possibly the human wasn't even interested in following the cat. But if it was, well, outrunning a two-legs was easy enough for a cat – should have been easy . . . Unless the human was . . . different, from others? Something was trying to niggle at the cat's brain again, a sensation it didn't quite understand, a memory it couldn't quite see.

And a wall that it hadn't seen in its confusion suddenly loomed ahead. The cat pulled up short to avoid a crash, paused for the space of a breath or two – heard the electronic beeping approaching the alley from behind. Hackles rising, the cat tried to find a place to run, but the alley it had entered was a dead-end, with walls too high and smooth to climb. Footsteps entered the alley. The cat whirled around, hissing, ready to bolt past the intruder at the first chance –

The human was faster. Before the cat could blink a heavy blanket was smothering it, trapping it, and the more the cat struggled the faster it was caught. Panicked adrenaline raced through its veins, heart pumping so fast that it hurt. Everything was dark, it couldn't escape.

But nothing would stop it from trying.

With one last, desperate bit of strength, the cat threw itself at the imprisoning wall of cloth, as if it could somehow push through solid material. And in fact, that is exactly what it did . . . the cat suddenly felt light as a feather, passing straight through the blanket with no resistance . . . for one brief moment the cat seemed to be immaterial, floating in the air above a puzzled human holding down a blanket-covered lump that no longer struggled . . .

Then the weightlessness was gone and the cat became solid once more, perched atop a building overlooking the alley. It spread its wings and prepared to jump . . .

Wings? That couldn't be right . . . It glanced down to find a sleek, black-feathered body.

A raven? But I was a cat . . . I was . . .

A rush of memories began slamming back into the creature that was neither raven, nor cat, nor human. Contractor . . . Blinded and confused by the flow of information, it remained in its dazed perch on the building's edge for several minutes, working through lost knowledge, on the verge of some important breakthrough that would finally let it understand what was happening.

But the instinctive fear still hovered behind its thoughts. It peered down into the alley and saw that the blanket had been tossed aside, and a black cat with a red collar now lay motionless on the ground.

And the human, a dark-skinned female, was staring right back up at the raven.

"Mao," she called to it. The single word sparked something in its mind that had been locked deep inside.

Mao . . .

My . . . name?

"Mao!" the human yelled again, sharply. The raven squinted at her, torn between the instinct to fly away, and the curiosity and confusion now burning inside it. It stayed where it was.

"Please, Mao," the human called. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. I just – need to talk to you. Please."

The raven – Mao – cocked its head. Humans were normally unintelligible creatures, so it was strange enough that it could understand her words at all. Stranger still that it actually, against all instinct, felt like it should hear what she had to say.

"I can help you, Mao," the human continued when she saw the raven wasn't taking off. "Listen – do you remember anything? You used to be a human, like me. Except – a little different, because you're a Contractor. But you lost your body, and now you possess animals to stay alive. . . . Do you understand this at all?" She paused to run a hand across her forehead, muttering, "God, I'm explaining metaphysics to a bird. They never covered that one in uni."

"Mao." A man's voice echoed through the alley. She whirled around in fright, but no one else was there – just her and the raven. She peered up at the creature, who looked equally startled by the sound. A moment later, it opened its beak.

"Mao," it said again, with a little jump of surprise at the very human sound coming out of its mouth. "My name . . . is Mao."

Her eyes widened. "You are still there," she said softly. Her next words were more confident. "You have to focus, Mao! Your mind is human. But you no longer have a human brain. Without the help of technology, your mind will regress until the animal's mind takes over again. When you jump bodies, like you did just now, your human conscience can emerge for a little while – but it won't last."

The raven flapped its wings a bit, agitated. "I think… I remember," it said. "Contractor… but… don't I need the Server?... Oh god – what's happened to me?"

"Listen, Mao. There's not much time." The human's gaze was pleading. "If you come with me, I can help you. You can't reconnect to the Server – they'll just cut you off again, and this time they might just decide to finish the job for good. But we think there may be another way to restore your mind."

The raven was overwhelmed by a growing sense of anxiety. It considered the human's words for a long moment, trying to let it all sink in. Finish the job . . . That's right, they – the Syndicate – they wanted to kill him! But then, as long as his human mind was repressed by a cat or raven, they would have no need to hunt him down – he was as good as dead in that state, anyway. Oddly, the thought made him feel just a little bit calmer. He returned his attention to the human below. "Who are you? Why should I trust you?" he demanded, feeling more and more like his old self.

The woman gave him a half-smile. "My name is Meena Kandaswamy. We've never met. As for trust . . . I'll have to leave that one up to you. I want to help you, but I can't prove it unless you come with me."

The raven eyed her uneasily. "You keep saying you want to help me. Why? It can't be that easy, and if you pretend it is then I'll know you can't be trusted. So what's this really about – what's in it for you?"

She laughed softly. "For me? Nothing, probably, except that I get to keep my job another day." Her smile faded and she met his gaze sharply. "For you? Everything is at stake here, Mao. It's your choice: either take a chance and at least believe in the possibility that we can help you – or don't take a chance, and guarantee that you will lose yourself again very soon. And I don't imagine that chances like this one come around every day."

The raven bowed his head. Her words rang true enough, and he was a practical creature. It didn't take long for Mao to come to a decision, given the options.

"Fine. You win, I guess. But I'm still waiting to hear your answer – what are you getting out of this? And don't give me that bullshit about your job again. There are obviously others working with you, so what's the catch here?"

"It's not a 'catch,'" Meena sighed, "don't be so pessimistic. We really are trying to help you, Mao. Please believe that."

She half-turned away so Mao could no longer see her expression.

"… All we ask in return is that you find the Black Reaper."

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