LEN - I

For me, night and day were the same. They were both a struggle, only during the day it was real and restricted, while when I slept the hardships my sleeping mind conjured were massive and dramatic and impossible. I ran through grasses like razor blades and climbed mountains that burned my fingers and left them blackened and crumbling to ash. I stared at a sky so bright it boiled my eyes and swam in water so cold my skin turned to ice. Then there was the farm house, the damn farm house, with the stray grass that clung to my legs and tried to pull me back, but I was foolish and stubborn and I struggled till I made it. There was too much red there in that farmhouse. It was everywhere, on the walls and the floor and the ceiling and the windows and it was running down my face, too, hot and thick and it burnedme like fire.

There was a girl, too, a girl with pale gold hair and a bow of white. She was strangely calm till her eye was ripped out and then she was screaming and crying too. She was younger then me. She was so tiny.

I reached out, screaming.

Then I'd wake up, and endure.

\\\

On the streets of Third Wing, we of Justice are called 'Debt Collectors'.

Its a name I'm quite familiar with, one I've heard everyday for near six years, but the words still burn in my throat when I say them aloud. To First and Second Wing, we're picture-perfect soldiers, ruthlessly disciplined and hard as stone and masters in the art of swordsmanship, but beyond that great copper wall we're nothing but bullies; the government drops money in desperate hands, then we're sent to collect with swords and guns and fire and nothing short of hell freezing over could save you once Commander Kaito's decision was made.

That's what we were doing now, me and Lord Gakupo and Yuuma. It was Yuuma's first mission, so he was understandably nervous and it showed on his features; his pale pink brows knitted together in concentration; white lips pressed together to form one hard, straight line; beads of sweat formed on his forehead and rolled steadily down the left side of his face, sparkling wetly. He wore a uniform of dark blue that looked almost black in the half-hearted moonlight, but you could still see the faint purple hue of his tie and the silvery shine of his buttons, all marking him as a member of Justice – but not a senior member, like Commander Kaito or Lord Gakupo or Lady Meiko. He was of my rank, but soon I'd be higher them him. Soon I'd wear black and red and gloves and carry a black-bladed sword.

But that isn't important at the moment.

What was important was that we were slinking down a near abandoned street under the cover of darkness. Lord Gakupo, as a senior member, wore the black uniform of a red tie, white under-shirt, and inky coat that split into there separate sections of material. His deep violet hair was unbound tonight and cascaded down his back in a waterfall of impossibly long, dark purple locks; so long was his hair it just fell short of brushing against the concrete and whispered audibly when he moved. At least, I could hear that, but my ears had been trained to be sensitive. I wasn't so sure about Yuuma. He was looking pretty pale now.

The street, as I said before, was near abandoned. Empty houses of wood and brick stood stark and lonely to either side, all small and dusty and uncared for. Most were crumbling, roofs caved in or getting close to it, others were fenced off with thick red neon tape that gave off an eerie scarlet sheen, and others just stood there, doors swinging on their hinges, creaking softly in the wind. Within all, darkness lived.

Our destination was at the end of the street. One of the few houses still inhabited, but not for long. It was one of wooden walls and a tiled roof, with a mound of bricks and timber piled up along the western wall. It was tiny and square as most houses in Third Wing were; the door would've been white once, but the years had worn the colour down to a grey-brown, and the garden might've been neat and tidy and perhaps pleasant to view a few decades back, but now it was just a tangle of vines and grass and flowers.

Yuuma's pale pink eyes widened at the sight of the miniature jungle and I could tell what he was thinking: snakes. They run wild through these poorer sections of Third Wing and most were deadly poisonous and Yuuma had no desire to die from something as embarrassing as a snake bite. His fear wasn't entirely groundless.

Still, Lord Gakupo sneered at him with distaste.

"Afraid of some little lizards, are you?" He spat. Yuuma's cheeks reddened and he shook his head, but the damage was done. "Stop shaking your head, fool. I've known from the moment Luka brought your sorry butt to Justice that you were a coward. I told her as much, told her I should've cut your throat, but the damn woman wouldn't listen." He stepped forward and waved a gloved finger in Yuuma's face. "You'd better watch yourself. I hate cowards. I'll stick a sword in your back if you try to run."

Yuuma paled. His fear was easy to see.

I didn't like snakes either, but I wasn't so foolish as to show my anxiety – which was small anyway. As awful as snakes were, the chance of running into one was low and their fangs couldn't penetrate our uniforms. I wondered if Yuuma knew that, and figured he didn't. Poor guy. I offered him a small smile meant to be reassuring, but he seemed to take it as a slight and glared at me.

I looked away and sighed.

"Come on," Lord Gakupo grunted. He drew his sword with a faint silvery hiss and sliced his way through the overgrown garden, regardless of the snakes and spiders that seemed to frighten Yuuma so. I followed without hesitation, with the twigs and the grass crunching and cracking beneath my heavy boots, but Yuuma lingered behind for a moment, all white faced and wide-eyed. I beckoned him forward with my hand, trying to be encouraging, but, once again, he took it as a slight. Probably because he was a good five years older then me and fresh from the apprentice ranks, while I'd been a member for almost three years now. Glaring coldly, he stamped through the tattered remains of the garden and shouldered his way passed me.

I really should've known better.

At the house, Gakupo didn't bother knocking. He kicked in the door with the fierceness of a lion and smirked wickedly at the screams and shrieks that sounded in reply. He was through the door and in the house in seconds, with Yuuma following hastily, but I stood a moment, just listening to the screams. Terrified screams. Screams that knew what was coming. This is wrong. But I swallowed my shame and followed anyway.

The house was even smaller on the inside. The dark grey parlour of the walls made the narrow hall way even narrower. The living room was square, too, and grey and pathetically tiny, but not as pathetic as the poor family who stood huddled against the wall. There was three there in total, an older man, probably in his fifties or so, with white, wiry hair and sagging cheeks and brown eyes bright with fear; and behind him were children, a girl about sixteen or so with long chocolate hair and chocolate eyes, and a younger boy who clung to her for dear life. His hair was white as snow, his skin deathly pale and his eyes miss-matched; one a blazing emerald green, the other a puddle of glimmering ocean blue, touched with flecks of gold.

This is wrong.

I stood beside Yuuma and put a hand on my sword.

It helped to look intimidating.

"I won't waste your time, Utatane." Lord Gakupo said with just a hint of a grin. "You know why we're here. Give us what you owe the government and we'll be on our way."

Utatane was the older man, it seemed, because he blubbered out, "I-I don't have i-it as o-of yet. P-please b-be patient -"

"We've been patient for two years, Utatane-san." Lord Gakupo replied smoothly. The picture of calmness. The picture of cruelty.

More helpless blubbering. "B-but...p-please, more time -"

Lord Gakupo drew his sword and Utatane stumbled backwards and, feebly, stretched out his hands so as to protect the children. The boy's miss-matched eyes filled with tears and his sister began to tremble, but her face was immoveable as stone. A brave girl.

Lord Gakupo's sword moved like lightning and the man's chest exploded in a mountain of red. The girl screamed and the boy stared, soundless, as their father crumbled, all his strength gone and howling with agony, his life blood painting the air scarlet. He crashed against the floor and lay there dying, but Lord Gakupo stabbed him through the throat and jerked his blade to one side, serving his wind pipe. Utatane lay there, gasping and spluttering and bleeding, for a minute or two, and then his eyes rolled back into his skull and he was dead.

Now the girl's strength – her bravery – deserted her. Still clutching her brother, she tried to flee with tears blurring her vision and strangled whimpers bursting from her throat, but Yuuma was to her left and Gakupo was in front of her and I was to her right, all the roads cut off. She saw something in my eyes, I think, and looked at me despairingly, desperately. Help me. I stood stock stick until she took a step forward and, remembering my duty, I gripped my sword's hilt and pulled it out just half an inch, but it was enough to destroy whatever trust she'd put in me and she stumbled away.

Gakupo tapped Utatane body with the tip of his boot. He looked disgusted, probably by the man's terrified, pain-filled expression. "Hn." He grunted. Then he turned to the children.

The boy's eyes flickered to my face. Apparently he hadn't given up hope in me, and that struck harder then any sword.

I spoke.

"Wait, Lord Gakupo -"

"What?" He snapped, turning his sharp purple gaze onto me.

"Must you kill the children?" I asked carefully. One slip and his sword would be opening my throat, not there's. "They had nothing to do with this."

He spat. "They're Third Wing rats and no-one gives a damn about them. To us, they're just more worthless mouths to feed."

"But they're children," I insisted, but I knew it was hopeless.

"A whore and a brat." He said bluntly. "and they won't be children forever. You think I was born all grown up like this? Nah, you start out cute, Len, then you grow up and you become a killer. That's what happens to people in this part of Third Wing. The girls become whores and crap out babes and the boys grow into killers."

I couldn't say anything to that. All my arguments came down to one fact – they're children.

When he saw I had nothing to say, he smiled that terrible smile of his and turned back to them, and the poor boy whimpered and buried his face in his sister's skirts and she tightened her grip on his little shoulders. Her will had returned, it seemed, while I pleaded for their lives.

"N-n-not him. Please, don't kill him!" She cried, her voice shaking terribly, but there was conviction there. Her outcry gave me an idea.

Lord Gakupo was about to snort and snarl something foul, but I spoke before he could utter a single profanity. "Spare the boy, Lord Gakupo," I begged. Lord Gakupo rounded on me, but his silence was encouraging, so I continued. "The girl is worthless, but the boy will grow and if he's destined to grow into a killer as you believe, then why not put his skill to good use?"

"You will have him join us?" Lord Gakupo was cruel, blood-thirsty and careless, but he wasn't a fool.

I nodded in confirmation. "We are short of men. Lord Commander Kaito as said so himself. Why waste one, when he can acquire him for free?"

"I see you point," Lord Gakupo admitted grudgingly. "but who will train him? All the other seniors already have apprentices -"

"I will," I interrupted, foolishly. You don't interrupt Lord Gakupo. "I'll be made a senior in a day's time. I'll be his mentor."

Lord Gakupo watched me. His eyes were like deep violet pools, going on and on and on forever, and harsh and fierce and terrible, but I held his gaze steadily, unyieldingly. If I could save the boy's life, then nothing was going to stop me. I'd seen too many children put to the sword for the simple crime of being poor. All the while, I could feel the girl's chocolate eyes watching, wide and tear-streaked, but intent; and, faintly, the boy sniffing, swallowing sobs and whimpers of fear and grief and confusion.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lord Gakupo nodded.

"Very well," He snarled, his voice sharp as a blade. It failed to draw blood, though, because he'd agreed and that meant the boy would live. That was all that mattered. The poor little boy would live.

I looked at the children and saw the girl's whole body had relaxed and loosened. Her hands hung freely about the boy's shoulders, but the boy himself still looked frightened, skin pale and eyes huge. They shifted from his sister's bitter-sweet expression to my face to Gakupo's sword and back again, never once resting on the lifeless, bloody corpse that was his father. Perhaps he was unwilling to accept reality. I didn't blame him.

Lord Gakupo turned back to the girl and his arm flashed forward, but I saw what he was about to do and reacted faster. My hand grasped the boy's shoulder and wrenched him from his sister's powerless grasp. I saw the sister smile at me, a soft, sad smile of acceptance and perhaps a little gratitude, but then I blinked and her face was nothing but red. I hugged the boy to my chest before the blow landed, but he still heard the sickening sound of metal slicing through the flesh, the crunch of splitting bone and cartilage and heard the resounding crash as his sister's body collapsed.

For a moment, he fought my grasp weakly, pushing at my chest and thrashing, but I put one hand on his hand and hugged his shoulders with the other and he quickly gave in. Trembling, he leaned against me and cried quietly.

Lord Gakupo turned away from me and marched from the house. He was already fetching the neon tape from his pockets. The package was no bigger then the head of a pin, but it glowed bright as the sun and all you needed to do was squeeze it lightly and it burst into thick ropes of gleaming red tape.

I looked up and saw Yuuma's huge pink eyes were on me.

"He could've killed you," He whispered.

I glared. For some reason, Yuuma was irritating me.

"What of it, coward?" I snapped.

He cringed away, then fled after our commanding officer.

I stood with the boy for some time, letting him cry, as Lord Gakupo and horse-head Yuuma unrolled the tape and curled it around the house, like some massive, oozing wound. It was a marker to all that walked by: These people were judged, and justice was served. Or so the government and Lord Commander Kaito claimed, but I knew the Commander didn't believe a word that spilled from his lips and the government was all Hatsune Industries anyway. Politicians had no power, other then being a tourist attraction. The true leader of the country was Hatsune Miku and her demons and we all knew it.

Everyone expect the people who suffered, I supposed.

"Hey," I said softly. I could hear Lord Gakupo barking at Yuuma to straighten the tape. It wouldn't be long before I was called out. "Hey," I said again, louder this time but just as gently, and, after a moment two huge blue-green eyes turned up to face me. I gently pried him away from me and knelt down on my knees, so we were at eye level. I held his hands. "We have to go now and you can't cry anymore. Can you do that for me? Just for a couple of hours?"

The boy sniffed and nodded.

I smiled gently. "Thanks. I'm Len. What's your name?"

"P-Piko," he squeaked out. "U-Utatane Piko."

I squeezed his hand. "I'll protect you from now on, okay Piko?"

"O-okay."

"Good. Now, let's go."

I was going to stand, but then Piko opened his mouth; and he closed it again and averted his eyes and sniffed softly. I squeezed his hand. He looked at me.

"What is it?" I asked calmly.

He faltered, and his voice was feeble and shook. "U-um...y-your face..." More faltering, stumbling over his words, but I knew what he meant. The jagged scar that curled over the bridge of my nose and near split my cheek was a frightening sight to behold and I didn't blame him for his reaction. It was far from unique.

"A wound," I told him. "from when I was little. Older then you, I think, but around there."

He seemed surprised that I'd answered him at all, the way he blinked and stared and then nodded shakily.

I stood and made to let go of his hand – so tiny – but he held onto my fingers, so I left my hand where it was. We walked from the house and out into the night, leaving the bodies to rot in the darkness. Piko glanced over his shoulder once, but he looked away quick as lightning and never looked back again.

Yuuma didn't look at me. Lord Gakupo glared at me, but I offered him nothing more then a blank stare in return. That only seemed to irritate him. It always had, my distant and cold and determined personality.

"I phoned Kaito," Lord Gakupo told me coldly. "He'll be sending a hovercraft to pick us up shortly."

I nodded curtly and said nothing.

That's how it went for the twenty minutes or so, us all standing in tense silence, Piko choking back tears, Yuuma fidgeting nervously and me staring off into space. I wanted to comfort Piko some way, but I figured his grief was too raw and his fear too great for any proper healing to commence, so I just held him and let him sniffle and squeak into my uniform. The hovercraft arrived with a soft hum and then the cloak dropped and it was right there in front of us, a mere two meters away. It was a relatively large hovercraft of silvery metals painted over black and red, the colours of Justice in Voca. Lord Gakupo entered the craft first, just as a faint drizzle of rain fell from the heavens and cooled my heated cheeks. I closed my eye and listened to the soft pitter patter till Piko tugged timidly at my sleeve. Then I strode to the craft and lifted him up inside because he was too short and weak to get himself in there alone. He was so tiny and delicate I was afraid I might break him.

The trip back passed much the same. Piko eventually fell asleep in my lap, breathing softly, coxed into slumber by the gentle humming of the craft and my fingers rhythmically stroking his arm. When we arrived, I carried the small boy in my arms and leapt from the hovercraft, landing lightly on my feet. We were in the storage bay where a row of black-red hovercrafts sat, silent as death and dark as night. Outside, rain poured from the sky, thunder roared and lightning flashed, but Piko still slept on in my arms. I was grateful for that. He seemed the sort of child to be frightened of storms.

\\\

Piko slept in my room. It wasn't an overly large space, but it was generous. The floors were smooth polished wood that glowed dully in the watery, yellow light of the candles; the door was Japanese themed, made of thin wooden beams strung together to create a frame and thin white paper re-enforced with steel thread too small for the naked eye to see. My bed was a futon of dark green mattress and thick brown sheets that toasted me in summer and winter both. Aside from that, my room was sparsely decorated, my clothes folded away out of sight and my precious few personal possessions hidden away in a broken board where I hoped known would find them.

Piko murmured softly as I gently lowered him into my futon and pulled the thick blankets up to his chin. He snuggled into the warm softness gladly, but as I pulled away I felt a slight tug and saw he was still gripping my fingers. I took a moment to examine his. They truly were tiny; tiny and bony and easily broken. The hands of a weak little child and I was all he had to cling to. The thought made me want to weep, but I smiled instead.

I strolled outside, slid the door shut behind me. It made less then a whisper of sound. I sat down and leaned against the wood – cream on the inside and black on the out – and listened to the rain. It was vicious and unforgiving and would've drenched me in less then a second, but I found the wet roar strangely comforting, as I always did. The crashing thunder, too, and even the heart-stopping bolts of lightning that made to crack the black-blue sky in half but never quite managed. I closed my eye, but no sooner had I done so did I hear the faint sound of frantic breathing, barely audible above the hammering rain.

I opened my eyes and looked up and saw Yuuma scurrying towards me.

He leaned against his knees when he reached me, panting heavily and rain water streaming off his shoulders and running down his face like tears. I stood and steadied him when it seemed he was swaying to one side.

"Yuuma? What -"

"R-Red Rose," He spluttered and that's all I needed to know.

I left him in my room with the threat of death hanging over his head if he dared let anything happen to Piko. I took my sword – one of average length and a glimmering silver blade and black hilt – and ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, regardless of the startled curses or shocked glances; through the complex I raced, through the training grounds, once a flat field of grass and dust but now a bog of mud and dead leaves; straight through the members compartments; and then into the Black Sword Tower, where the seniors lived and trained and plotted. It was a huge, ominous structure of black brick and stone; it went straight up like a blade striking the sky.

There were no guards. The seniors could protect themselves.

Inside, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my master and mentor, Lord Commander Kaito. He was taller then me by about a head or so. His hair was smooth and blue as the ocean and never tidy but never quite messy, either. His blue eyes, normally twinkling with merriment, were hard as stone and lined with worry, but when he saw me I like to think some of that concern eased, if only slightly.

"Len," he said. I walked up to him and struggled to control the hammering of my heart. All that frantic running had left me breathless and soaked to the bone.

"How many?" It was the obvious question.

"Seven so far." He replied calmly. "Did Yuuma return with you?"

"No." I wondered how to proceed with this..."I needed him to look after something for me."

Suspicion flickered in his blue eyes, but there were more pressing matters then a harmless white lie so he let the issue slid. "I see. No matter. Come."

I did.

The hallway was scarcely lit at all – I could barely see my own hand, let alone my mentor. The world was black on black, and Lord Kaito was just another phantom drifting in the dark. Then we reached the staircase and started up, up and up and up and up, until suddenly Lord Kaito stopped and pulled at the wall, or what appeared to be the wall to me. It shivered and then jolted inwards and revealed to us a room of neon lighting that stabbed at my eyes. Lord Kaito strolled inside and I followed him uncertainly.

Inside, the seniors stood around a table. It was a large table, ringed in silvery metal, and standing tall and proud on the table's surface was a hologram of Voca, zoomed out so the walls looked like small rings and the city itself was just a patch work of houses, growing darker and noticeably run-down as you travelled from the centre.

Lady Meiko stood beside the table, frowning hard, with her hands clasping the metallic frame. Her short brown hair was unbrushed and her bloody red eyes narrowed in concentration. Lord Gakupo stood near by, smiling his twisted smile and watching me with the fiery malice I had gotten used to. Lady Luka sat in a chair a few meters away, her cherry blossom pink hair unbound and flowing down her back in silky locks, but she lurched to her feet upon our arrival and smiled in relief.

"Len, you're soaked to the bone." She said, her tone concerned. Her gloved fingers brushed my forehead, wet with rain water. "You'll catch a cold."

I didn't know what to say. Lady Luka's kindness has always left me speechless. You'd think I'd be used to it after six years.

"I-I'm alright." I assured her, though I was freezing.

"Len, get over here." Lady Meiko wasn't known for her patience. "Look, Red Rose is here," she tapped the hologram and it zoomed inward at a pace that left me dazzled. In seconds we were peering down on the Second Wing like birds flying over head, and then at a smaller section pressed right up against the copper wall. A red ring framed it, pulsing and glowing. "She's killed seven so far. We sent some men in earlier, but that was foolish." She glared at Lord Gakupo as she said that. "Three have died already and the remaining five are hard pressed. We need to -"

"Red Rose is nothing," Lord Gakupo snapped. "We shouldn't have in interfere ourselves."

"We might not have a choice," Lord Kaito interrupted before the argument could flare. "Red Rose isn't someone regular members can deal with."

"Not to mention most are fresh apprentices," Lady Luka pointed out. "They think they understand how dangerous their enemies are, women like Red Rose and Lady Miku, but they don't. They act rashly and die for it. We need..." She travelled off and looked at Lord Kaito and I thought I saw something pass between them – a strange look that defied description – but I wasn't certain.

I glanced at Commander Kaito. "What can I do?"

He looked at me with those dark blue eyes and smiled a faint, tired smile. "You're meant to become a senior tomorrow...but you wouldn't mind becoming one today, would you?"

I stared at him in confusion. "Kaito?"

"The hovercraft is here," Lord Gakupo announced suddenly. His hand was buried amongst his violet locks, somewhere near his ear. Lord Kaito glanced at him briefly, but then his eyes were on me and I felt like a child, small and helpless, and then he spoke and my insides went cold and I couldn't react at all.

"We're sending you after Red Rose."

What?

I'm glad that's over. This chapter...I rewrote it three times and I'm still not happy with it. (it would've taken me weeks to get up, but I'd already started it several days before uploading the first chap.) I feel like the ending with just stupid. I don't like Len's interaction with Gakupo too much either...I'll build up the hate in following chapters, I suppose.

Kiyoteru will come into the story soon enough.

About Gakupo's treatment of the Third Wing family...I'll explain it more fully later, I suppose, but I'll do it here, too. People beyond Second Wing are treated very badly by the richer people. They're just more mouths to feed, so they're killed off most of the time. Why Gakupo could've killed Yuuma or Len if displeased will be explained later as well.

Lovely world I've come up.

On a more positive note...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THOSE LOVELY REVIEWS! *-* They make me so happy. I felt warm inside when I read them. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint you as much as it disappointed me.

Sorry for grammer/spelling mistakes.

- raven_by_night

[ EDIT ] *angry forehead throbbing* It seems that whenever I use slanted writing and upload in onto , all the words get pushed together. I dislike this...I'll keep an eye out for them now.