Oh, much love for kedima, for assuring me that Reed was in fact his last name and that I wasn't going insane. Thank you, kedima!

Quick disclaimer: Ayame, Haru, Kaone, Yume, Yoshiki, and the Silver Deck are mine. Nothing else is. So don't sue.

Enjoy!

Alter Real
Chapter Two: Accidentals
By Windsong
Written June 2004

It had been an accident.

So they said.

Ayame didn't believe them for a moment. Her parents were the most careful people she had ever known. Their meticulous habits and attention to detail had nearly driven her insane. And never, her entire life, never had they ever had an accident. And accident was simply—unthinkable.

And yet now they were dead.

Her parents.

Dead.

Because of an accident.

Now she lived with her aunt and uncle, with only her brother for company. And Haru was worse off than she was.

Much worse. Haru was a gentle, shy, timid boy, who grounded his life upon three things—his father, his mother, and his sister. Their parents' death had hurt him far too deeply, and in response he had withdrawn into the dark corners of his mind. He was barely a shadow of his former self, and he refused to communicate except mind-to-mind. That meant that he spoke only to Ayame. But every shared word between them was torture; every time one talked telepathically, one had to touch mentally, and whenever they touched she inadvertently brushed the parts of his mind that were hurt so deeply, causing a sharp stab of pain to lance through both their heads. Talking to Haru always gave her a severe headache, and she knew it was worse for her brother; at times, she had seen silver tears streak quickly, silently down his cheeks. But she forced him to talk to her anyway; she knew the talking would help him heal, no matter how much it hurt.

As far as Ayame knew, she, Haru, and her parents were the only people in her entire family that were—freaks. That was the best, the nicest way to put it. They could do things that no one else could. No one who was normal should be able to speak telepathically to someone, or talk to spirits, or sense someone around a corner or behind you without even seeing them or hearing them or anything, or heal wounds, or start fires with a thought. But they could.

And now only Ayame and Haru could, and the rest of her family treated them like wild beasts that would turn on them in a moment. No one talked to them, and because it was summer vacation they were never allowed out of the house. They were given rooms with the bare necessities—a bed, a drawer, a lamp, and a chair—and they were heavily encouraged not to touch anything in the house. Ayame sometimes thought it would have just been better for everyone if they had just abandoned them—offered them up for adoption. But how would that look? The mighty and powerful Tanaka clan not able to take care of their own. And besides, who knew what kind of people would adopt them? And what if they got separated? No, it was probably best that they had come under their aunt and uncle's wing, no matter how much the couple despised them.

Let them despise us, Ayame thought sullenly. I only need my brother and my own wits anyway. Although I have to admit, a few books would be nice...

Somehow, she had convinced Haru to come back with her; to sneak out of their Aunt's house and back to their old home—to the place where their parents had had their...accident.

Because it wasn't an accident. There was no way it could have been. So that meant there was more going on than they knew. There was a definite back story; their Aunt and Uncle weren't telling them everything. It was very likely that something—or someone—had killed them. And Ayame was determined to uncover the truth.

Haru's mind was climbing the walls in panic and terror. Ayame sent him a wave of calm, but it barely helped.

: Don't want to go back don't want to go— :

: Haru, we have to go! If we don't, we'll never know why! And we have to know— :

: We DON'T! I don't want to know why! Just leave me alone: In his terror, he shoved his sister violently out of his mind, the telepathic force of it actually locking her body in place. She looked at him in confused horror; Haru had never lashed out at her before. As she slowly willed her body to move again, Haru's tear-filled eyes met hers. : Ayame, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— :

: I know. It's okay. : Ayame's senses were on full alert; it was midnight, and the streets were not exactly the most hospitable place for Haru and Ayame to stop and talk in.

: Haru...please? For me? We'll never do this ever again, I swear! Please. I have to do this:

Haru's dark eyes looked like black diamonds in the weak lamplight as he studied his twin sister. He looked like his father, with those eyes; Ayame carried the trademark Tanaka eyes, deep green with silver streaks, and straight black hair held in a high ponytail.

Silently, Haru nodded, and the two continued their stealthy trek home.

Ayame had chosen their entry point carefully. She gently opened the window to their old room with a soft click. As they landed carefully on the plush wine-red carpet, she could feel Haru relax, almost against his will. She smiled softly. I knew it would help. Surround him with things he knows aren't a threat, and he can't help but relax a bit.

: Come on: she whispered to her brother, pulling on his hand. The house was covered with dust, and Ayame wrinkled her nose in distaste. Things were thrown everywhere, leftovers from the small, hurried police investigation. Everyone had known it was just for protocol; no one would dare investigate the Tanaka clan for long. That, more than ever, brought home the fact that her world had been whirled upside-down; never had their house been anything less than near-unnervingly spotless.

Their parents' workroom—which Haru and Ayame had never been allowed to enter—was on the second floor. That was where the "accident" had occured. Haru began to tense as they approached the silent, closed door. : Ayame— :

: Hush! Everything will be all right. It's home: Like Ayame had intended, he quieted at the reminder of safety, although he did not let his guard down. All the better—who knows what's behind that closed door?

Taking in a deep breath, she swung the door open slowly. The room was pitch-black, and as Haru leaned over Ayame's shoulder to peer inside, Ayame lost her balance and they both stumbled headlong into the room. When Ayame regained her balance, she froze for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness; she felt Haru do the same, but out of fear, not wariness.

: It's too late to back out now: Ayame told her brother before he could bolt. Slowly, she saw a large, squarish object resting on a pedestal in the direct center of the room. The room was lighter around it; almost like it was giving off light, or if a very weak lamp was shining upon it. As she looked around, she saw hundreds of trinkets scattered randomly across dust-covered shelves and drawers. But none of that was as enticing as the object on the pedestal...

Haru's eyes were wide and blank as he walked over to the book. Ayame followed him uncertainly. As they came closer, she gasped in amazement, her eyes widening. It was the oldest, most beautiful book she had ever seen. It was flat and large, but rather thin. Bound in supple black leather and embroidered in shining silver, strange, flowing symbols ringed the outside, and a pair of arcs crossed paths in the center. Looking closely, she saw that one arc was half of a rainbow, while the other was a long tail of a comet. On the very top of the design was pair of iridescent wings. The wings weren't thread, and weren't leather; they seemed to be some kind of opalescent stone impressed into the cover. The book had a latch, like some ornate diary, also of black leather, the latch of pure silver, with runes etched deeply into the metal.

Suddenly, a flash of movement distracted her from the book's spellbinding splendor; Haru's hand moved purposefully towards the latch. As his hand moved closer, the silence and darkness suddenly gathered closer, became opressive; the air became thick, and Ayame suddenly found herself fighting for breath as a sickening feeling of dread washed over her.

: Haru, no, don't touch it: She screamed, her hand darting outwards to smack his hand away.

Too late.

Their hands both brushed the latch at the same time; but while Ayame pulled her hand back in horror to clasp it over her mouth, Haru's hand pressed firmly against it, hand flat against the leather.

The book glowed silver, softly, and Ayame looked on with shock as the latch fell to dangle off the side of the pedestal and the book's cover was slowly opened by some unseen hand. Aside from that, nothing happened. Ayame dropped her hands back to her sides, chagrined. Now I feel stupid...

Inside the book was a stack of cards. Ayame stepped forward to stand next to her brother as he picked up a card without hesitation, examining its back, decorated with the same design as the book's cover. Ayame's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong; Haru never moved so purposefully, never stayed so silent, never had eyes so luminous, like clouds backlit by moonlight...

With a simple flick of his fingers, Haru flipped the card over to its front, and Ayame was distracted by its breathless beauty. Drawn on the card was a woman, dressed in a long, flowing kimono, her ears slightly pointed, her eyes predatory. Her face was delicate, narrow, fey. One arm stretched to the right, the hand hanging limply. The other arm curved in front of her, also to the right, the fingers pointing up in a diagonal towards her shoulder. She looked like she was sitting in the crook of a branch, but instead she sat on a cloud. Her hair swirled around her, as if tossed by some tempestuous gale. On the bottom was the name of the card, written in calligraphy. She peered closer, trying to read the strange symbols; it was written in English, not her strongest language.

Then she heard Haru take a quick, purposeful breath, and then say, "The Storm." Her eyes widened in fear as she heard his words echo in the silence.

Ayame's shaking whisper seemed as loud as a scream: "Haru?"

Then the whole world shattered.

Silver ripped across her sight, making her shriek and throw her arm up to cover her eyes; her ears were filled with the shrill song of wind whipping around her. Her clothing flapped crazily as she forced herself to open her eyes, squinting at the sudden light, the once-dark room now bright as day.

The woman had flown out of the card, her kimono and hair fluttering wildly in the gale, as her silver eyes, luminous with cruel apathy, locked Haru's gaze. Staring at her brother, she saw his eyes had been drained of color, leaving only an eerie whiteness. A silver pentagram glowed eerily on the wooden floor below his feet, his body frozen, his mouth locked in a small "o" of surprise. Ayame felt her magic flare protectively to life, and as it filled her she saw what seemed to be millions of silver threads connecting the woman to her brother. Waves of disorientation struck her as she gazed upon the threads. Something was wrong with them, something had gone horribly wrong—

With a contemptous look, the woman threw her hand outwards, and a bolt of lightning arced from her hand to Haru. Haru stiffened, his eyes widening as his mouth widened into a terror-filled scream. His back arched, and Ayame suddenly realized: the bolt of lightning wasn't feeding Haru, it was feeding her—

Haru's eyes blackened again, looking like dark stones as he crumpled to the floor. The woman pulled her hand back, turning her head this way and that as if searching for something. Ayame suddenly found her voice and screamed, "HARU!" The woman's eyes flicked towards her; eyes flaring in cruel satisfaction, she stretched her hand out towards the girl.

Ayame suddenly felt herself filled with rage. Her hands clenched as her mouth twisted into a snarl, and she roared "NO!" at the woman in a clear challenge. The woman paused, looking at Ayame with new consideration.

Then he book glowed again, and another shape burst from it, riding the wind. It was a strange creature, half eagle and half lion, a figure of black sharply contrasting the harsh silver light. Suddenly her mind supplied its name: Gryphon—

It hissed sharply at the woman, clearly reproachful, powering its wings to hover challengingly before her. The woman's eyes widened in—fear?—before thousands of silver threads exploded from the creature's body, tangling her tight. She glowed a bright silver and then seemed to dissolve, the threads squeezing her into a small, long, rectangular shape.

Suddenly, the wind ceased, and the room was plunged once again into darkness; the gryphon and the book glowed as the creature gently landed on the ground, clutching a black-and-silver card in its right claw.

Suddenly exhausted by terror and horror, she felt her legs start to shake as the creature turned to meet her eyes.

Seeing those eyes, the same silver as that strange woman—it was too much; Ayame felt herself begin to crumple to the ground before everything went black.

There's chapter two, minna! Hoped you liked it. -grins- I've got nothing to say, so...I'll be seeing you.

-Windsong - windsong 137 at gmail dot com

"Let's pretend, happy end" -Garbage, You Look So Fine