Author's Note: This is the first fan-fiction I've attempted in a few years, so please don't shoot me if it brings you pain. Comments and considerate suggestions are welcome, but telling me that my writing, 'sucks,' does not qualify. Note that while it is set in the same timeframe of the original Wolf's Rain episodes, none of the original characters exist in this, 'alternate universe.' It's all OC, but I still hope you enjoy it. ) Depending on how people view this one chapter, I may or may not continue. So please, provide feedback! Arigato.

I hear a voice,

From beyond the sky that stopped crying.

I am waiting for you.

The young woman writhed on her bed, sheets entangling themselves around thrashing legs as she tossed and turned, caught within the confines of a dream. A fresh sheen of sweat bathed her exposed skin, brows furrowed in unconscious contemplation of the vivid imagery plaguing her restless mind.

She staggered forward, legs churning wildly through the pool of muddy water through which she waded. His silhouette teasingly cast over her struggling body, he stood at the lake's edge, complacent smile egging her onward. With a howl of frustration, she plunged ahead—and was caught off-guard as the once firm sand abruptly gave out underneath her; one last glimpse of the man before she vanished underneath the turbulent surface.

The sallow light cast by her bedside lamp illuminated the wayward book sprawled on the linoleum floor, the tome opened to reveal its contents to the pallid ceiling overhead. Archaic script consumed the dog-eared pages, hastily scrawled notes filling the columns straddling the printed words—the ink was still fresh from where pen pressed against page. A startling clatter and thud suddenly resonated within the cramped room, followed by the newest wave of stale air that filtered in through the rusted vent opposite the young woman's bed.

As if in response to the loud noise, the female coiled convulsively on her bed, the faintest whimper escaping her huddled form. Eyelids fluttered wildly as the eyes behind them darted from one unseen hurdle to another, her scrawny legs and arms tensing as if in preparation for a lunge.

Struggling through the unforgiving battery of waves, she was rewarded as her groping hands closed fast on partially submerged grass, which she used to pull herself bodily from the lake, choking on the water that had invaded her lungs. Her entire body trembled; head thrust back to gaze up at that which had driven her past expected limits. One shaking hand reached out to brush trembling fingers against the leg resting just centimeters from her heaving build, only to find itself plunging right through the male's leg—the momentum carrying the young woman forward into the grass.

With a shriek of protest she squirmed violently on the ground, unable to force expired strength upon her frail limbs, unable to beat back the inebriation that now rippled through her exhausted body. Tears sprung to her ashen gray eyes while she weakly shook her head, muddy tendrils of ebony hair flattening against her face. The illusion was now completely eradicated, the smiling face having disintegrated into the harsh gale that now ripped through the valley, carrying with it the promise of cold.

'I'll be waiting.' The disembodied voice brushed against her consciousness, sending a shiver down her spine. It brought to mind past anguish and suffering that she wasn't aware of, half-buried memories surfacing as the voice consoled her. The estranged memories clamored to be revived and revisited, even as her senses dimmed, fading to black…

…The shrill whine of her alarm clock slowly revitalized Yuuzai, whilst her eyes stared, unseeing, at the book resting on her floor. The dull ache of overworked muscles throbbed uselessly in some vacant corner of her mind, while the vestiges of the dream slowly ebbed into the fleeing shadows. With a moan she shut her eyes, burying her head into her misshapen pillow for a few idle seconds, before throwing back the sheets that she had managed to kick away from her sometime during the night, stumbling to her feet and stretching cramped arms in the hopes of alleviating some of the stress weighing her down.

Yuuzai's gaze once again shot to the open tome littering her floor, as she uneasily bent to collect it and shove it beneath her bed. If anyone were to slip their way inside while she was at work, and discover it—she'd have more to worry about than a bad dream. Shapely fingers tracing the now dried set of notes permanently staining those pages, she slowly folded back the cover of the thing, staring at the cryptic title etched into the worn leather: Book of the Moon.

With a half-smile, half-grimace occupying her weary face, Yuuzai turned and slid the unusual reading material underneath her molding mattress. Brushing herself free of any belligerent grime that now dusted her bare feet and legs, Yuuzai turned to preparing herself for work. Somewhere between tossing aside her baggy nightshirt and buttoning her sweater the female caught sight of herself in the greasy mirror straddling the top of her chest of drawers. The bags underneath her eyes and the overall haggard appearance of her face elicited a cringe, and a reach for the cosmetics.

Twenty minutes later, Yuuzai groggily locked her apartment's door behind her, descending the decrepit steps to the equally infirm sidewalk without. Bracing herself for the bitter cold, she hustled outside with vigor influenced by the artic winter Freeze City was experiencing—had been experiencing for four months now. Loafers clunking awkwardly against the broken concrete underfoot, Yuuzai began hastening towards work; head downcast in order to avoid any peculiar glances from those citizens whose schedules placed them in the same vicinity as her.

Overhead a full moon was suspended in predawn skies, its pallid light barely illuminating the maliciously glinting pair of honeyed eyes which followed the progress of the young woman, an almost inaudible snarl escaping the shadowy figure before it vanished in a way reminiscent of fog before revealing sunlight—only the faint imprint of wolf tracks in the agitated mud lingering behind.