Title: The Bloodstone

By: Aina Song

Fandom: Ronin Warriors/Yu Yu Hakusho

Genre: Yaoi

Rating: R

Warning(s): Language; Angst; Blood; Death; Post-NCS

Pairing(s): Rowen/Yusuke; Ryo + Kento; Sage + Cye

Reviews: Yes, please.

Author's Note: Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Italics = memory, dream, telepathy, or any other such gibberish. Depending on the situation in which they appear. Also, it is suggested that the reader takes into consideration the author's warnings.

Teaser: "There's a kind of emptiness that can fill you/ There's a type of hunger that can eat you up/ There's a cold and darker side of the moonlight/ And there's a lonely side of love…" - Hanging By a Thread, by Nickel Creek

Chapter One - Rowen

The world was an endless grey fog, with shimmering ash blanketing the ground. Far into the midst of this beautiful wasteland stood a dark shadow, weakened but defiant of his own weakness. Wracked with pain, refusing to be brought to his knees, his eyes burned with fierce loyalty as his torture began anew…

~o~

When Rowen Hashiba came downstairs, it was very obvious he had not been able to find much rest the night before. Three of his four housemates each shared a concerned glance as he came into the kitchen.

"Ro?" Ryo Sanada asked, "You okay?"

"Hell, no."

They watched as he reached into the refrigerator for a beer. But just as he brought it out, Cye Mouri snatched it away and pressed into his hand a cup of something warm and brown. Rowen eyed it critically, "What's this?"

"Coffee," Cye rolled his eyes, popping the beer open and pouring its contents into the sink. "Your drinking has become a nasty habit over the past couple of months, so I'm stepping in."

"But I hate coffee."

"Don't argue," the seafaring youth chided automatically, turning his back long enough to toss the can into the wastebasket and run the sink's faucet so that the kitchen would not smell of beer. He did not see Sage Date finally coming in to lean his shoulder up against the doorframe, or the look of tortured disgust Rowen tossed the blond behind Cye's back.

Sage smiled, waving his hand toward the coffee as though to say, I dare you. They both knew that Cye's coffee, like most of his concoctions, would be far from normal. Everyone in their household had played guinea pig to his inventions often enough to be wary just before the first taste, though to be fair they were always pleasantly surprised by the clever originality of the results.

"You seriously look like shit."

Cye whirled around, "Kento!"

"No, he's right." Rowen shook his head, leaning his back up against the fridge. "I feel like shit."

Sitting next to Ryo behind the counter island, Kento Rei Faun shrugged, as though his point had been proven. Cye shook his head, then noticed that Rowen had not yet touched his coffee. "Drink that, Rowen. You'll feel better."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. And you'd better get used to it, because as of today I'm not letting one more drop of alcohol into this house until you learn not to depend on it to solve all your problems."

"Worked so far," Rowen muttered under his breath, finally sipping from the cup in his hand. It had an unusual flavor. Vanilla, mostly; but with a citrus aftertaste. Like a mix between apple cider and orange juice. But he could think of more unpleasant replacements for alcohol, so he drowned the rest without a word.

Ryo's dark eyes were filled with worry. "You do look unwell, Ro. Is something wrong?"

Sage stood quietly in the kitchen doorway. His pale blue eyes took in the concerned faces that circled his best friend. He knew Rowen had been keeping his nightly troubles a secret from the rest of their friends, but now he wondered whether that had been a wise decision.

"Ro's been having nightmares," he told them now, "over the past two months. Every night."

Shocked and dismayed, they all began to ask questions. Rowen gave his best friend a sidelong glare as the blond slipped out of the kitchen, though he understood. Sighing, he slowly and calmly explained the truth in as much detail as he dared. A heavy silence fell upon the room after he had done. When at last the silence was broken, it was by Ryo, who lifted his elbows atop the counter and leaned forward. "They could be a message…"

"But that would mean someone's tryin' to reach Ro," Kento pointed out. "Wouldn't it?"

That was when Sage returned, carrying an armful of sketchbooks. At Rowen's nodded permission, he set them upon the counter and revealed their contents. Rowen glanced away, not wishing to relive their depicted horror. Ryo stared, Kento whistled, and Cye came closer so that he might have a look. And though Cye despised profane language, a very torrid profanity fell from his own lips.

Rowen nodded again. "Whoever's trying to reach me… could be in some serious trouble."

"Sage," Ryo wondered. "How have you been drawing these? Did Rowen describe his nightmares to you?"

The blond youth shook his head, "He didn't need to. The Ronin power showed me all I need to know."

Their three friends stared in greater surprise. The Ronin power, that ethereal thread of consciousness that bound them all together, had fallen dormant to the back of their minds since the final defeat of Talpa. To hear that perhaps it had begun to reawaken was the equivalent of learning the blind could see again.

"Sage has always been more sensitive to it than the rest of us," Cye recalled. "That could be why he knew of this, and we didn't."

"But, what now?" Kento asked, "Someone needs Ro's help, right? How do we find out who it is?"

But Sage had already thought ahead. Grabbing the newest of his sketchbooks, he took Rowen by the arm. Their three friends followed through the dining room and into the living room, where Sage sat Rowen down on the couch. He then sat himself upon the knee table across from Rowen and took out the pencil he always carried in his pocket. "Okay, Ro," he said, flipping through his sketchbook until he reached a blank page. "What does he look like?"

"What? Why are you asking me?"

"You're the only one of us this person is trying to contact," Sage reminded. "We can do this."

"But how?"

"With the Ronin power. If you concentrate in your mind, we can sort through the memories of your nightmares for the pieces we need to put this puzzle together."

Sighing, Rowen sat back and closed his eyes. He did not move, and for a long while it seemed nothing was going to happen. But perspiration soon beaded the archer's brow, and after another moment Sage reeled and set pencil to paper.

Silence fell heavily again, while the others watched over Sage's shoulder. His progress was frustratingly slow, as he had to carefully pry each tiny detail from Rowen's mind and determine how it fit before sketching it down. And, as Sage was a professional who rarely let himself make mistakes, his chosen process swiftly drove the both of them toward exhaustion.

Rowen had spent the entire morning focusing on the pain and torment of his nightmares, before Sage finally begged him to stop. With a dizzy sigh, Rowen leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. His mind swam in a dark red sea of anguish, and a headache had begun to thrum inside his skull.

"Here."

He looked up. Near his shoulder, Cye held a second cup of his coffee concoction. A cup for Sage had already been set on the table near the blond's thigh. Quietly mumbling something in gratitude, Rowen accepted the drink. After draining more than half of it in just a few swallows, he slowly felt some vigor ghosting back into his veins. He took a deeper breath, then turned his attention to his best friend.

Sensing his stare, Sage lifted his head with a heavy sigh, piercing Rowen with a look that spoke only of sympathy. Wordlessly, he took up his sketchbook and turned it over.

His cup nearly slipped from Rowen's hands. His heart seemed to race, and to stop, both at the same time.

"Th-that's him…"

~o~

Once the focus of his nightmares had been identified, the nightmares themselves began to change. The pain and torment were still there. Yet no longer did Rowen play the role of the victim. He was now a witness. To the anger. The betrayal. A witness, to the blood that was shed that was no longer his own.

He grew desperate. He fought, he struggled, to bring that torture back upon himself. But it was as though he hammered his fists against the outside of a window while on the other side, a large portion of his heart was torn to shreds. Every night, for the next several weeks, this went on unhindered. And every night, a dark pair of eyes stared at him as though to pick apart the secrets of his soul.

It was often then that a voice he did not recognize began to speak within his mind. At first, the words were too soft and seemed to spill together like too much wine. But with each passing night their syllables gradually pulled apart, until one night it was as though their voice whispered into his ear:

… no, run, Rowen, run… get the hell away from him, I'm the one you want, here, here I am, you filthy son of a - no, Rowen, DON'T!

His eyes flew open, so suddenly was he startled awake. The memory of pain from that last nightmare was so intense, tears threatened to sting in his eyes at the knowledge that he could not take that pain back upon himself.

Rowen…

His heart twisting within his chest, he quickly sat up in his bed and glanced around. Across their room, Sage was asleep in his bed. A rare sight, considering how often the strength of the Ronin power had forced the blond to share in a whisper of Rowen's torment. Wishing not to disturb his friend's rest, Rowen quietly dressed and left the room.

He knew what he had heard. It was not some lingering tendrils of wakeful dreaming; the voice he had heard speak into his mind was real. Someone was calling for him. Never once doubting who it could be, Rowen left the manor through the back and crossed the wide yard toward the forest.

Slowly, he wandered among the trees. It was after midnight, and the silence of the forest was only broken by the voice that whispered within his mind through the mystery of the Ronin power. It called, and he would turn left; it called again, and he would turn right. For longer than an hour he searched, only pausing if the voice had grown quiet.

"Where are you?" He would whisper into the darkness.

And, Rowen, it would answer, urging him to continue.

Finally, he came into a clearing he did not recognize. In its center stood a single dead oak tree, and a young man who sat with his back against the trunk. Rowen stepped closer. Here was the voice that had called for him. With torn dark clothes, and trails of blood from numerous hidden wounds, Rowen could understand this stranger seeking help.

With just a few paces between them, Rowen sank to his knee and quietly observed this person who had tried for so long to reach him. Short, unruly black hair, mocha brown skin, a lean muscle frame… He couldn't be more than a few years older than Rowen.

From around his neck hung a golden chain with a diamond-shaped golden talisman. Set in its center was a red oval gem, darker and purer somehow than rubies. The Ronin threads whispered in Rowen's mind of its power.

Curious, Rowen found himself reaching toward it for a closer look.

"Don't!"

Swifter than his eyes could follow, a hand flew out and caught his wrist.

He looked up. Fierce brown eyes glared back at him. But the next moment, they widened then began to glisten under the moonlight with sudden tears.

"R-Rowen…"