"Excuse me, Miss Minamino?"

Naomi had no idea what she was doing. Talking to a complete stranger that she tracked down-she probably looked insane to the middle aged woman. But this is what she had to do; she needed to do this. No one but her would understand but her.

At least she hoped.

Shiori Minamino was a bit startled, as she clearly was not expecting a meet up with a stranger. She sat in the courtyard outside of the city mall, legs crossed and purse at her side, "Yes? I'm sorry dear, do I-"

"No you don't." Naomi tried to look as least threatening as possible, which was hard for her these days. But her dumbass dressed like she was looking for a street fight. Black skinny jeans and an oversized sweater, and rusty tennis shoes that were once white but were now streaked with mud. Definitely not the pristine outfits she had, for some idiotic reason, looked over in her closet when getting dressed.

"I'm here to ask you about your stay at the local hospital a few years ago. I'm a med student (lies). And I'm doing some research (half truth) and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about your recovery (whole truth)."

"A female medical student." Shiori seemed amazed.

A shit-eating grin graced Naomi's face, "It's 1995. About time women took the reigns-after all, we've been running the show for quite some time, am I right?"

She was so full of shit, her ears were practically leaking. But her childhood years had primed Naomi to be a charismatic, charming young woman. And it felt good, despite all the changes her body was going through, to act like her old self.

The woman in front of her smiled brightly and began to relax, even moving her purse to invite Naomi to sit on the bench next to her. Naomi followed the woman's lead.

"You know," She began with her trademark, motherly smile, "The medical staff still cant seem to figure out what happened. I was really quite ill. There was a moment where I was hooked up to all types of machines and my son, he was so worried. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. I made a full recovery. I honestly feel better than I ever have. "

Interesting, "Thats wonderful news. And your'e correct, the doctors are quite amazed by your recovery. Do you," Naomi land in closer, "believe that that there was some sort of…external work at play?"

Shiori laughed, bringing her knuckles to her lips, "What type of medical student are you?"

The dark haired woman shrugged, "I'm just trying to figure out all the angles."

Shiori leaned in closer, "Well. I have always been curious myself that there was something, otherworldly, at play. But honestly I am so happy to be healthy, I couldn't care what the reason is."

Naomi felt confident enough, comfortable enough for her next move. Reaching into her back pocket she pulled out a photograph. Unfolding it carefully she placed it into Shiori's lap, "Miss Minamino, have you ever seen this person before."

Shiori looked perplexed, but studied the picture anyways. After a moment her eyes began to widen slowly, "You know. I have seen this person before. I believe I've seen him with my son a few years back. Though I don't know how this relates to my recovery-"

Naomi scooted so close to the woman she was practically invading the final centimeters of her personal space, "But what if he did? Miss Minamino, when you recovered did your body go through a reaction? Did you happen to gain any abilities-"

"Ah! There you are!"

A gentle but commanding tone filled the space between the two women and an even more commanding hand was placed on Naomi's shoulder. It presented itself as a gingerly touch, however Naomi knew better, she could feel nails cutting through the fabric of her sweater. She couldn't flee. He was holding her there.

"Oh Shuichi!" Shiori beamed. "We were just talking about you."

"You were?" It was such an innocent question laced with a dark undertone. One that Shiori didn't pick up. Naomi knew it, she could feel it. Literally.

"Yes! This is-you know I've never gotten you're name."

"It's Naomi." The girl responded.

"Yes, Naomi and I are aquatinted with each other," the redhead began.

Wait a second. Naomi was supposed to be the only liar in this group. However when she looked up at the stranger, who was still gripping at her shoulder, with a confused look his sharp jade eyes silently warned her to play along.

"Oh how lovely. Shuichi…is this-"

"Just friends." He responded just as sweetly.

Shiori got up swiftly, going on about allowing the two young adults some 'alone time'. Naomi tried to non verbally plead with her that it was not a good idea. As the creepy redhead was indeed not her friend and probably going to murder her when she turned her back. And for what? Because she talked to his mom?! Overprotective, and slightly Oedipus. As soon Shiori was a safe enough distance away the redheaded boy known as Shuichi took a seat next to Naomi. As much as the girl wanted to relax with his release of her shoulder, her body remained stiff as his eyes locked on to her in a seemingly impossible hold.

"Do not that think that because we are in public I will be merciful to you." For such a sweet, alto voice, he knew how to sound dark and devious. Who the hell was this guy? His hand wrapped around the picture Naomi had shown Shiori only seconds before, "How do you know this man?"

"How do you know him?" Naomi didn't know why she shot back the response. She tried to narrow her brown eyes at him, but Shuichi seemed to chuckle at her weak advance.

"Do you really think you are in control of this conversation?"

"Of course not. But I need to find him. It's very important that I find him."

He leaned closer, "And why, is that? And what does my mother have anything to do with it?"

Naomi glanced around the courtyard before grabbing at the bottom of her sweater. Pulling the fabric of her sweater slightly she revealed her stomach, "Because he did this to me."

Green eyes studied the long, V-shaped scar that graced the girls lower abdomen. Running along the wound were her raised blood vessels which casted a black hue against her tan skin. In fact, this girl's whole body temperature was slightly higher than normal humans.

if she was human.

He tried to compose himself as much as possible, "What happened to you?"

Naomi lowered her sweater with a huff, "Ask your fucking friend."

One Month Eariler

Naomi had awoken with a scream. Not your normal, A ear-piercing, gut-wrenching scream. It was a silent scream, as her body was too weak and too confused to form words. Her mouth hung open her while her arms frantically worked around her body to find the source of her pain. Everything felt like it was on fire. The veins on her body began to raise, pumping blood rapidly throughout her system. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out from her skull.

She rolled off the hospital bed, hitting the floor with an un-graceful thud. The room that she had called both her home and final resting place was spinning. Or was she spinning? She didn't know. Everything just felt hot. She needed to cool herself down. What had happened? She was lying in the bed the night before, ready to die, and now? Was this dying? If it was, why did she feel so alive?

She slowly made the crawl towards the bathroom. Her mouth now allowing groans and whimpers to escape her. Leaning against the cool tiled wall she pulled at the silver cord to begin the flow of the water from the shower head. It tapped against her head, but she felt nothing. The water seemed to evaporate after it hit her skin. Her mind rolled as she attempted to recall the events of the past 12 hours, also while forming her last words.

This is the end. I'm dying. On the bathroom floor in a fucking hospital. How long until someone finds me?

I should have known this would happen. I shouldn't have done all that stupid shit growing up. The drugs, the drinking, the occasional illegal activity.

This can't be the end.

With one final spasm Naomi's body sprawled out on the floor. Turning her head to the side her brown, swollen eyes stared out the open bathroom door to her hospital room. Was this the last thing she was going to see? Her ugly bed, plain white walls with a weird sailor-themed artwork. A vase of flowers that were clearly in the final stages of life, much like hers. The opened window. That damned white scarf.

White scarf. His damned, white scarf.

The memories began to flood back, bursting into her skull.

She was lying there.

The table was cold. The air smelled thick. She was in a world she did not know.

Red eyes. Calloused hands, "A little longer." He said. Then he was gone.

A doctor. With skilled hands and a scar across his face.

A woman. Thick hair and a shiny arm, "Give her both."

Everything went black. And now she was here.

Finally she found the words. The words that she was once too weak to say. Her lips parted and a name escaped her lips.

"Hiei."

But, for the first time in 4 years, he did not come.

Thoughts? This story is going to be set up with actions happening in the present, but also the past. It will explore the relationship between Hiei and Naomi in the past as well as their current relationship in the present (if there is one.)

Until next chapter. Rate and Review.