A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed so far. You have no idea how much it means to me and how excited I am to get e-mails that say someone's reviewed my story. This project has become my baby. In this installment, you may notice that I use a bible verse. I was rewatching Hackers the other day and when I heard the verse said by Matthew Lillard's character, Cereal Killer, I thought, "Whoashit. That's deep. I'll use it." And I did.

Also, all the songs I use in here are the songs that I'm usually listening to while I write these, so I like to think they set the mood one way or another. I highly recommend all of them.

I took a little more of what I take for granted
And filled my plate for fear that gears would turn
And wheels would roll away.
...
And when they arch your backbone
Such a dreadful sight.
--President of What? by Death Cab for Cutie

Theme: The First Time
1 Corinthians 13:11
"When I was a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

When Izumi was born the second time, spawned from nothing, there were certain discrepancies between his mind and body. His form was that of a full-grown man but he had not fully matured; not in the emotional sense. The result was a juxtaposition of child and adult, a confused and hurried growth process that essentially crushed the residue of lingering adolescence. He didn't know it then, but six was apparently a very early age to die.

There was an odd sense of empathy when he drew a soul from a shuddering, small body every time for a long time. There were strange urges to play, to run, to let his heart decide and let his body follow. But he learned eventually that his heart had no pulse and therefore, no authority over his actions. He ascended the ranks quickly with this knowledge in hand.

Yui Meroko was everything he had been at first, an unwelcome window to his recent past. Naive, eager, hopeful, beautiful. Childish in expectation though adult in shapely figure. Izumi came to the conclusion at one time or another that she too died before her maturation could be completed. Sooner or later, he thought, reality would catch her wings and pull them down. And yet, it never did. He loved her for it. He hated her for it.

And the first time he forced his kiss upon her, he felt disgusted. Because the feel of her against him was too pleasing, her soft breaths too exciting, and her childish whimpers and protests too familiar. Because even if her dainty hips and slender throat said differently, she was still so young. The first time he touched her, he tasted her youth and drank her innocence. A leech. A parasite. Something odious and foul, preying on a willing victim.

But the first time she touched him, she ate his pain, devoured his aches. A leech. A parasite. And so now, he likes to think that they feed off one another; he takes her purity and she takes his age. And maybe one day, they'll be able to meet in the middle.