In the black rain, I smile quietly...

I'll show you the me that nobody knows yet.

Rain, scientifically speaking, is water falling in drops condensed from moisture in the air. It is formed with regards to the water cycle of evaporation, precipitation, and condensation. On the other hand, pagans believed that the rain was a result of Mother Nature's grief and sadness due to the inhumane treatment humans continually showed her. But to certain people...the rain held a deeper meaning.

Often times, people despised the rain, for personal reasons they kept to themselves. Because for one, the rain was the very picture of sadness itself. A collage of the dark emotions enclosed within one's heart. The portrait of one's darkest and most hidden self. But to others...the rain was the only way they can express themselves.

As they hide behind the darkness of the black rain, there they find the chance to show the world who they really are.


CHAPTER ONE

A chandelier that hung on the ceiling served as the primary source of light in a small, yet very organized, room. The sound of the heavy rain pouring outside was muffled by thick velvet curtains, which hid enormous glass windows that lined the room's walls.

The curtain over one window was neatly tied together though, revealing the dreary scene of the storm outside; probably everything was already covered in pitch darkness (despite the fact that it was still supposed to be noon). The scenery was not one to be appreciated at all...

For most people, that is. But not for him.

"Ah...good day, Eiji-kun."

"Nya...Yumiko-chan...It isn't a good day at all." Kikumaru whined instead of greeting back Yumiko. He looked out a window from the hallway they were in, a pout visible in his lips.

Yumiko only chuckled, "Syusuke will prove you otherwise."

"I know, I know." The red-head said while sluggishly waving his hands in front of his face. "Ne, ne...Where's Fuji-ko, by the way?"

"The usual."

"The usual? Mou...Fuji-ko is just no fun..." Kikumaru whined for the second time and headed towards the direction of where he thought, or perhaps anticipated, Fuji was. Passing through more hallways, he stopped in front of a slightly opened door, reaching his destination. As he took a small peek at the inside of the room, a simple yet well crafted sculpture that stood at the center greeted his sight.

The particular room held a variety of artworks - from paintings, to sculptures, to hand-crafted urns, and colorful mosaics - which ranged from the simplest, to the most abstract art. Apparently, the room belonged to someone who was most appreciative of fine arts...or perhaps, was an artist himself.

And currently, that someone was painting yet another...painting.

An easel stood in front of the only window left uncovered in the room, a light-haired lad seated in front of it. The paint brush in his hand appeared to be dancing gracefully on the canvas as his long slender fingers guided it.

Kikumaru's dark blue eyes gleamed enthusiastically the moment he saw Fuji, particularly because the latter's back was against him. Slowly, he entered the room, careful of making the slightest sound, and tiptoed towards Fuji. Fuji seemed to be very absorbed in his work that Kikumaru took the chance to hold his breath and...

"Saa...I see you still decided to visit me, Eiji."

...surprise Fuji.

"Mou...why do you always do that, Fuji-ko?" Kikumaru whined after letting out the air he held in his throat. "You're just no fun at all!" He pouted childishly at Fuji, crossing his arms for added effect.

"Now, now. Whatever do you mean by that?" Fuji questioned between strokes of his brush.

"I'm talking about that." Pointing his fingers at Fuji's painting, Kikumaru narrowed his eyes. The knowledge of Fuji having a rather obsessive fascination with art could be easily determined; the proof of it would be the very content of the room itself. But he could not understand why, of all the times he could, Fuji would always choose to paint during days that had a bad weather. Nya...I hate rainy days. People hate rainy days. But Fuji-ko...he 'loves' it. There have been many instances that he questioned Fuji about the matter, only to receive a smile as a reply. A smile that, Kikumaru knew, held a meaning which Fuji was yet to reveal.

A soft chuckle escaped Fuji's lips as he finally glanced up at Kikumaru. "But I do am having fun, Eiji." His eyes were closed—perpetually closed, that is—and often times, Kikumaru wondered how he was able to see and, more importantly, paint with the absence of his sight...or so, it seems. It was yet another one of the mysteries about Fuji, as he always commented.

"Fun? What's fun with painting!?" Kikumaru blurted out. "And can't you see, Fuji-ko? There's nothing to paint at all! I can barely see anything outside..." He pressed himself against the glass window, strained his eyes, and tried to see through the darkness that covered the surroundings outside. But he only sighed in disappointment as the sound of the roaring thunder reached his ears, along with the hard pounding of the rain that followed. "See?"

Fuji chuckled at him for the second time, "Of course that's not true, Eiji. If it was, I wouldn't be able to finish my work...see?" Kikumaru walked back towards Fuji and glanced at his painting, only to realize that his speculations were, once again, incorrect.

Fuji, surprisingly, was able to paint the very picture of the storm outside, only to turn the dismal scene into an elegant and serene painting.

"Sugoi" was Kikumaru's initial reaction. "How did you do that, Fuji-ko?" He had seen similar paintings, but none was able to impress him for they always appeared to be horrid and scary. Until now, that is. Fuji's work was noticeably different. It was just..."Weird. You can't turn an annoying rainy day into something like this Fuji-ko...!" He mentally slapped himself. This was Fuji Syusuke; calling him 'weird' would be a definite understatement. To describe him or anything related to him as out of the ordinary would only be similar to describing him as normal. "Nya...I give up. I really can't understand you when it comes to these things." Kikumaru grinned and glanced back at the painting. And for some reason, there was something peculiar about it; he just couldn't put his finger in it...

Soft, sudden knocks on the room's door then caught both lads' attentions. A maid entered the room after Fuji gave her permission to, and proceeded to speak in a very polite manner. "Lunch is served, your highness." Her voice held nothing but utmost respect, keeping her head low as she spoke.

"Saa...arigatou." Fuji said as he finally stood up. "Is there anything else?"

"His highness, Yuuta-sama, has already arrived."

It was noticeable enough that Fuji's face beamed at the mention of his younger brother's arrival. "Is that so? Please tell Yuuta I would be with him in a minute." The maid left at his instruction and Fuji turned to Kikumaru. "Why don't you go ahead to the dining room, Eiji? I'd be with you as soon as I meet with Yuuta." Fuji said, excitement resonating from his voice. Then the light-haired lad hurried off to meet with his 'beloved' brother, and left Kikumaru snickering to himself.

I wonder if Yuuta is as excited to see his brother as Fuji is... He couldn't help but laugh at the mental picture of how Yuuta would react, the moment Fuji barges into his room. If there was one thing that Fuji liked more than art, it was Yuuta. Or was there something else? Now...where was I? Oh yeah!

"Time to eat, nya!" Cat ears 'popped out' of Kikumaru's head as he—literally—bounced towards the door. But not before he finally found that 'peculiar something' on Fuji's painting:

A silhouette of a little boy was sketched neatly on the painting. A little boy with golden eyes.


Footfalls echoed in the dark corridor, and after a while, the figure of a young boy slowly came to view.

With his arms behind his head, Ryoma walked languidly along the corridor, the wood beneath his feet creaking with every step. He would walk on small puddles, pass under leaking ceilings, and even encounter a gap on the floor once in a while. But he never did have any problem with those, even in the dark. It was a skill, probably; or maybe a gift...he really didn't care.

Exactly five minutes from his room, he finally reached his destination.

"Come in." Tezuka spoke from the other side of the door. No need for knocks, as usual. Ryoma thought to himself as he entered the leader's office.

"There have been reports of young girls that have gone missing since last week." The moment he entered the room, Tezuka immediately spoke. A raised brow was Ryoma's initial reaction. "We received this request from an old lady named Ryuzaki. Unfortunately, her granddaughter was one of the victims." Tezuka tossed the letter at him swiftly, which Ryoma easily caught. "Included there are the name and recent whereabouts of the suspect." He said and threw another sheet of paper at Ryoma. "I want you to find and bring the victim, or rather, the victims back to safety."

Ryoma's expressionless gaze never faltered as he read the letter. Still, boredom and disinterest was etched in his features. After all, he had a reputation as 'the renowned Ryoma Echizen' (no, he was not a mere shinobi) to be able to handle higher ranked missions than this one which, if he would describe it, was not exactly 'worthwhile'. "Give me a good reason why I should waste my time in this mission." He stated nonchalantly after reading the letter, obviously uninterested in the matter at hand.

"You will receive 30 silver coins as payment once you complete the mission."

"That's it?" Ryoma's brow arched for the second time. "Don't want to."

"Do it." It was a command, not a request. Mind you—Ryoma Echizen was not one to take orders easily. But there still are exceptions, of course.

A pout was obvious in his face as Ryoma threw the letter back at Tezuka. "Fine." He was wary of the way Tezuka stared at him; the gleam in those almond eyes held an unspoken meaning that, in a way, bothered him greatly. He was used to the stern glances that their stoic captain never failed to 'bestow' on his acquaintances, but during that moment, Ryoma knew it was different. The tone of Tezuka's voice when he spoke was already a proof of it. Perhaps, this mission meant more than what he had insinuated. The only question was: Why?

"Throw in some Ponta to my reward too, will you, Buchou?" He said, feeling more wary by each passing second. Besides: whatever the reason was, it was out of his business. Let's just get this over with... He thought and turned to leave. He need not open the door himself, however, as Inui entered the room. "Inui-senpai."

"Ah...Echizen." Inui looked down at the mention of his name, his rectangular eyeglasses flashing mischievously at Ryoma. "I knew I would see you here."

"Actually, I was just leaving." Ryoma said and left, feeling more uncomfortable than before under Inui's stare, his pace quicker than he intended it to be. As a result, he failed to notice it as Inui's stare followed his retreating back, a smirk plastered in his face.

"You did not tell him, didn't you?" There was the sound of a click as Inui closed the door behind him. Tezuka, however, remained silent as he stood up from his desk. "I'll take that as a yes." Fixing his eyeglasses, Inui proceeded towards the file cabinet. "Now I suppose, you don't mind me asking you why?" He knew the tinge of sarcasm in his voice was very obvious for he already knew the answer to his own query; he only wanted to hear it directly from Tezuka.

But silence filled the room. With slight disappointment, Inui busied himself by arranging files in the drawer, not expecting an answer from Tezuka anymore. But, to his surprise, the latter did speak.

"There is no use telling him something that he is about to know."

"And," Inui added. "...you want to know how he is going to react."

Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed simultaneously. One strong gust of wind and rain followed and uprooted yet another tree from the ground. This scene outside was then reflected on Tezuka's eyeglasses, as he unconsciously stared out the window.

Indeed, Inui was right.


A startled gasp came from Ryoma as a bundle of fur suddenly leapt onto his arms, the moment he opened his room's door. "K-Karupin?!" He blinked at the patched feline who was currently finding a more comfortable position in the cradle of his arms, purring contentedly against his chest.

"Karupin, eh? So that's what you call him, huh, Echizen?" Ryoma sweat dropped when Momoshiro's face appeared out of nowhere, his famous, lopsided, goofy grin already in place. "Eh...as far as I know, you don't get startled that easily, Echizen. Kind of disappointing to find out that a mere cat could, ne?" Momoshiro added teasingly and received a scowl from Ryoma. The boy went inside and sat cross-legged on the futon, his cat—or rather, 'Karupin', still in his arms. "So...where'd you find him?"

"Outside." Ryoma replied plainly as his fingers gently stroked Karupin's soft fur and hugged the cat tenderly, earning himself a satisfied purr. Momoshiro noticed how Ryoma stared at the cat; warmth and peace radiated from the usual, cold and expressionless orbs of gold. And the way he hugged the cat carefully, as if it was a fragile thing made out of glass, was very unusual yet, at the same time, very relaxing. Momoshiro found himself smiling gently at the scene before him. Ryoma appeared like a normal boy of his age, holding his beloved pet, and without a care in the world. Entirely different from the momentarily reticent, stoical boy he knew...

Momoshiro was on his way to the marketplace to buy himself some tasty reward for having won another match when he caught sight of their leader. "Ah...Buchou!" Tezuka heard him and turned around as he approached. "Aha, Buchou! I've won another match! But that's not surprising because obviously, I am the number one member of the group. That weakling, Bibura, is no match for me!" He bragged boisterously.

Tezuka nodded at him approvingly, somewhat accustomed already to his occasional attitude.

"Oi, Buchou, where have you been anyway? Le'me guess...Out on a mission again, huh? How was it? How many butts did you kick this time? Huh, Buchou?" The 13 year-old Momoshiro asked enthusiastically, excitement and curiosity evident in his face. Before he received a reply though, he noticed someone behind Tezuka. "Huh? Who's he?" Large, purple eyes blinked as Momoshiro approached a little boy. "Oi, Buchou, who's this kid?" He asked as he surveyed the boy's tattered appearance:

The boy had dark locks that disorderly fell over his face, a pale complexion, and alluring gold eyes. But the moment he stared into those eyes, Momoshiro saw the immense harshness evident in those orbs, now frigid and frightening rather than alluring. He then noticed that the boy had scars and bruises on various parts of his body, including a fresh cut on his cheek.

Momoshiro gulped. Based on his observations, the boy obviously went through rigorous circumstances; circumstances that drove a young boy like him into an early state of psychological maturity; far beyond how a boy his age should act and think.

"Echizen."

Deeply immersed in his thoughts, Momoshiro almost failed to hear the boy as he spoke. "Echi...zen?" The boy's voice was placid and expressionless, Momoshiro noted.

"Un." The boy nodded. "Ryoma Echizen. And I'm not a kid anymore."

From that time on, Momoshiro had made it his responsibility to look after Ryoma. But it was after three years of 'patiently' socializing with Echizen did he prove that his first suspicions about the boy were correct. He need not question Ryoma, for he knew that it would be meaningless. Besides...

Actions speak louder than words.

"Never knew you liked cats." Momoshiro remarked as he dropped down beside Ryoma. The boy answered with a simple 'So?' and continually stroked Karupin's fur, a gentle smile grazing his lips. At that point, Momoshiro congratulated himself for putting up with Echizen all these years and, possibly, for breaking (even just a bit of) the ice that Ryoma kept himself in; if not, he wouldn't be able to see his friend as he was now. He would well consider this as one of those 'once in a lifetime' opportunities.

And for the record, he might as well thank the cat. This whole scene wouldn't be possible if not for him.

He snapped out of his daze when Ryoma suddenly stood from the futon. Karupin had already fallen asleep. The cat was now curled into a patched ball of fur on Ryoma's futon.

"Oi, you going?"

Ryoma didn't look up. He was currently tying a black band around his forehead. Then he fastened a long bundle of cloth on his back, and headed towards the door.

"O-Oi! I told you earlier that I'm going to come with you, didn't I?" Momoshiro almost slipped when he hastily stood up from the futon.

"Iyada." Momoshiro blinked at Ryoma's back. "You told me to tell Buchou to let you come."

"Well...?"

Without glancing over, Ryoma snorted. "I forgot."

Momoshiro fell down anime-style, with a huge comical teardrop floating beside his head. "Ah! With or without permission, I'm coming with you!" He stated enthusiastically, but Ryoma only looked back at him dully.

"You sure?" Ryoma's words came out almost like a yawn. "It's just one of those 'hide and seek' missions. I wouldn't even take it if not for Buchou persuading me to." The earlier conversation with Tezuka then flashed in his mind, recent speculations about the said mission closely followed.

Momoshiro had also tied a black band around his forehead. "Have you forgotten that I'm good at 'hide and seek'? And you know the rules, Echizen." Ryoma watched as Momoshiro covered his hands with black gloves.

In their world, missions are a way of living. Missions range from the simplest, to the most complicated. A shinobi is assigned to an appropriate mission, based on his skills, by the leader. Periodically, the leader would distribute special missions to deserving shinobis, with greater risks and benefits. A mission signifies life and death for a shinobi; it can either be a life's worth of accomplishment or regret. Sometimes, a mission can also cause one's death.

There is one significant rule about missions: To agree to a mission is a choice. But to carry it out is a necessity.

"Besides, I can't let you have all the fun." Stretching his arms, Momoshiro cried excitedly, "Yosh! Time to kick some butt!" Ryoma rolled his eyes before he followed Momoshiro out of the room.

Luminous blue eyes suddenly appeared in the dark as the door closed with the sound of a click.


The sound of whinnying horses was drowned by the hard pounding of the rain as a carriage sped through the dark forest, withstanding the deluge that raged the area.

Moments later, the noise ceased temporarily.

A terrified scream then resounded in the darkness of the night. An ear-splitting and horrified cry that begged for life.

To be continued…


A/N: Right…at least this chapter is considerably long. And believe me, I am more than relieved to have finished this. It took me a while longer than I anticipated but the result (in my part) was rather satisfying, don't you think? I'm still in the process of building the entire plot and familiarizing myself with this kind of genre so…bear with me until you no more can. And no, it is still not 'a walk in the park'. :)

My heart-felt thanks to you, my dear reader, and all those that have reviewed on the last chapter. You have encouraged me greatly. Still, the anxiety never did wear off so kindly send me your opinions a.s.a.p. A fanfiction would only be complete with reviews. You all know what I am trying to say.

Till next time then. Ja.

Puzzle…Puzzle…Do you like puzzles? I do. Very much. :)