Author's Note

So here's the prologue of the second arc in the Bells series, "For You, The Spirits Shall Return"! I'm still mapping out the finer details of the story, but I'm already pretty sure it'll be longer than the first arc... Much longer. Ehehe. There's just so much that I want to include in the story, and I don't want to rush anything. But because it's still in development, please feel free to make suggestions for things you want to see happen!

Reads and reviews much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters.

Enjoy!

Prologue

A lone figure hurried along his way, his dark-brown sealskin cloak keeping him from the rain's grasp. It was dark, long past sunset, and the streets were barren. The golden firelight in houses along the road slowly flickered to their ends as families prepared for slumber. But not this man, no, he had no thoughts for sleep just yet. He stopped at a crossroads to examine the road signs, clasping his cloak tighter around his shoulders as an unusually cool breeze blew around him. With a turn of his heel, he made a right turn and continued on his way.

He continued in his hurried pace, his breathing becoming laboured pants as he walked, the tails of his coat sweeping behind him. He finally stopped in front of a small building, whose fire was the only one still merrily blazing on the street. A sign above the door bore the establishment's name: "The Rose Goblet." The figure swept one arm out before him and pushed the door open, calling out timidly as he did so. "Hello?"

"Ohtori! You're late!"

Laughter rang through the boisterous pub, and the figure swept the hood off of his head, shaking the dampness out of his silver hair. He hung his sealskin cloak on a coat rack near the entrance, and stepped into the exclusive pub, his black boots dripping water as he walked.

"Oi, watch the carpets!" A bespectacled man with blue hair said. He wore a white silk shirt with blood red cravats and handsomely tailored black pants.

"Gomen, Oshitari!" Ohtori Choutarou shook the back of his head. "It's raining really hard outside though!"

"Just take your shoes off then!" A redhead said, popping out from behind Oshitari to grin at Choutarou. Gakuto Mukahi hoisted himself up onto Oshitari Yuushi's shoulders and into a handstand, before flipping off to land before Ohtori. "No one else is coming in here anyway!"

"Haha, that's true," Ohtori agreed, undoing the laces and buckles of his boots and slipping them off. He walked back towards the entrance to place them by his cloak. "And if anyone tried to, Kabaji would scare them away!"

"Usu." Kabaji Munehiro stood behind the counter, single-handedly manning the bar. It wasn't too difficult of a job, given the small number of patrons, and the king's right-hand man found time to enjoy himself as well. The monosyllabic giant quickly fixed a pint of the house brew, humourously named the "Sober Rose", and dashed a pinch of cinnamon into it. Ohtori took his regular drink from the bartender, thanking him as he did.

"Don't you ever get tired of drinking that?" A serious boy with orange hair walked up to Ohtori. Hiyoshi Wakashi clinked his own glass against Ohtori's in greeting.

"Choutarou just knows what he likes!" A man with flowing brown hair grinned, walking up and wrapping his arm around his lover's shoulders. "He's the only one I know who takes it with cinnamon too!"

Choutarou laughed, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's waist for a quick hug. "You'd like it too, if you just tried it, Shishidou!"

Shishidou Ryu laughed. "There's no way you'd ever get me to drink that!"

"You might be able to get away with pouring it down Jirou's throat while he's asleep," Gakuto called. They all snuck a glance to where an orange-haired boy slept on one of the many luxurious couches. Jirou Akutagawa was famously narcoleptic.

"Oi, you peasants," a deep arrogant voice called. Everyone turned to the stairs where a figure clad in deep purple robes descended. "Don't you dare feed Jirou anything weird."

Everyone in the room sank into a deep bow before their king. Atobe Keigo smirked, and raised one hand in the air. "Be awed by ore-sama!" He snapped his fingers, and everyone stood back up.

"The Rose Goblet" was an exclusive pub, open only to Hyoutei's king and his favoured men. They were all close friends and worked within the castle. Atobe kept his friends close to him, and together they were responsible for maintaining the peace of their kingdom. However, trouble was brewing for them. Trouble that they had never expected nor ever seen before.

Buried deep within the Hyoutei earth, a heart beat abnormally slowly. The body to which the heart belonged had long frozen over. A layer of ice covered the body, as well as the entire contents of the hidden chamber. Were it any normal mortal, the body would have died long ago, its soul granted access past Charon's Gate. However, the man to whom this particular body was far from normal. His soul was indeed in the realm of the dead, but the man was far from dead.

The power of the boundaries was weakening. It was something that could be felt all throughout all of Portam Charon, the passageway between the Mortal Realm and Hades Realm. The souls that had not yet passed through became restless, lingering in the mid-realm for the opportunity to return to life. Some of these souls were unaware that they would no longer have physical forms to return to. Others were. These bodiless souls would possess a currently-existing body in the Mortal Realm, either co-habiting the body with its original soul or forcefully removing the original soul entirely. Either way, it would be the beginning of a dark and chaotic time.

One particular being grinned to himself. Unlike the other souls in the realm, he still retained his human-like figure. This was because his body still existed in the Mortal Realm, untouched and unchanged from the time he left it. His soul had been sealed in Portam Charon as he learned and trained. He was no longer the child he had been when he first arrived, and he knew it. He was taller, stronger, and deadly. The necromancer knew that his time would come, when he would break from the realm of the dead to extract his justice upon the unfair world.

All that was left to do was wait.