Yoshiki observed his surroundings. Towering trees, overgrown bush, and nobody in sight. The sun peeked through blind patches in the branches. There was little time before it set. Nothing could be heard but hummingbirds and the leaves crunching beneath his feet. As he guided his way through the forest, he hunched over, wary of unwanted acquaintances. Need be, he had his reliable knife sitting in the back pocket. There weren't many occasions where he needed it, but it was always handy to be prepared. If luck were on his side, he'd come across a fatted stag. That would be enough to feed him for a month at the very least. Unfortunately, he had exhausted his gracious karma, and there were little options left. One week of scavenging bandit camps was enough. His mind was set on a riskier, more rewarding route — and that was stealing from the nearest village.

It wasn't the most pleasant thought. He had valid reasons for refusing to return to his native village, the biggest one probably being his lazy excuses for parents. They never did like his attitude very much, and made unreasonable propositions to 'fix it'. Needless to say, it didn't work. Well, it wasn't surprising when they never cared to figure the reason. They approached the situation as a mistake, that he was clearly doing something wrong, something that had to be mended by accusations and lectures, when in actuality, they never tried to see it as a result of something else, an aftereffect. He didn't bother to reveal it, convinced that it wouldn't change their ignorant minds. And somewhere aside the stress and vexation in his mind, he was glad he didn't. Maybe he was better off on his own, seemed like it anyway.

Although travelling solo was his preference, he felt depressed just knowing he didn't belong anywhere. What he should call 'home' was a place that reminded him of his neglected farewell. And in this day and age, food and supplies were scare, meaning the average village was so strong and family-orientated that strangers were unwelcome, often killed on sight. He was unwanted and untrusted, and sadly enough, he didn't blame anyone.

He knew what he was doing was beyond dangerous, but it didn't faze him at this point. Well equipped to defend himself, he was confident he could at least escape when worst comes to worst. The cravings were ignorable at first, but it started to blast through his mind recurrently, making it near unbearable. Meat. That's what he wanted. Juicy flesh to rip his teeth through. He was sick of scanty meals that were unsuccessful at satiating his stomach. It made him crazy enough to consider this whole operation.

He kneeled down and pressed his ear to the ground, a practical hunting trick. A smirk shaped on his face as he continued to sneak through the forest. Something was nearby. He was nearly there. Wiping traces of sweat from his forehead, he was startled when he felt a firm object barge into his shoulder at full force. Pain shot through his head as the force smacked him against what he recognized as a tree. Fuck. His sight became impaired, a spinning sensation running through his skull. When his vision was clear enough to identify the situation, a glistening blade pressed against his cheek.

"Any final words?" muttered the attacker. His face was cloaked in a dark balaclava, uncovering narrowed, overcast eyes. He dressed in tattered, grimy clothes.

A bandit, he guessed, presumably just as desperate as himself. Although, he did not expect to be assaulted like that. Maybe the lack of nutrients was finally getting to his head, probably the cause of his prolonged dizziness too. No matter. In a swift movement, he pushed the foe's knife out of hand and twisted his arm behind his back, quenching in the expected yells of agony. The bandit was stronger than he thought, throwing him off and pinning him to the ground. A cuss fell from his lips. He strained to heave the attacker off, but he was too heavy.

He felt a blow to the top of his head, causing him to throatily shout. His brain pulsated in immense pain as he gradually lost consciousness.


Cantering through the trees, Ayumi squealed in delight. Father finally allowed her to take Gemstone for a ride after all her nagging. He kept stressing the fact that there were too many 'dangers' out there, but in all her life, she had never come across any of them. The most dangerous thing she saw in the forest was a rabbit, which tasted delicious by the way. It was her first kill. She remembered the thrill of finding her arrow pierced through its fur. Heh, and he didn't believe she could protect herself.

Out of nowhere, Gemstone rattled her head. It didn't happen often. She gently patted her warm neck and murmured, "What's wrong, Gem? What is it?"

The horse slowed down to a stop, and Ayumi couldn't believe her eyes. Among the fallen foliage laid an injured man. He didn't seem to be moving, and the blood coating his head was traumatic. She thought about turning back, finding help and responsible adults, but she was fearful that leaving him here would lead to his death. Biting her lip, she delicately hopped off her ride and lumbered closer. Her voice was soft. "Hello?"

No response. Getting a closer look, she noticed a prominent lump at the brim of his golden hair that trickled with crimson. He needed medical assistance, like, right now. She spoke again, this time louder, and as expected there was no answer. Unconscious was the word, right? She slowly extended her arm and squeezed his shoulder. Yep, he was out cold. Glancing between the man and her horse, she heaved a sigh and got to work.


Was he dead? No, the incessant pang in his head was all too real. The feeling was very strange. He couldn't still be lying in the forest because he was certain he heard the crackling of a fire. Also, his body felt oddly warm. Was it… a blanket? He popped his eyes open, straining as the light weakened his perception. There was a campfire close by, and it looked like he was in some kind of large hut. And straw… straw everywhere. He heard a shuffle behind him.

"You're finally awake."

He shot his head around, which was a bad mistake because a scream of anguish bit through his brain. Fuck, it hurt so much. Squinting his eyelids shut, he grimaced.

The voice uttered again. "Um, you're still recovering, so take it easy."

"Where am I?" he grumbled.

"Don't worry." A feminine tone, it was most likely a girl, young too. "You're somewhere safe."

The pain had subsided enough for him to open his eyes again. He noticed the girl sitting beside him, quite pretty too. She must be a villager. Bright blue eyes, shiny navy pigtails, petite face. What was she doing here with him? He spotted a roll of tape and a wooden pail by her side. Wait. He reached up and felt a secure bandage around his head. "Did you… did you do this?"

"Yeah…" She shyly looked to the ground.

His mind was fuzzy. "What happened?"

Her eyes shifted to his for a second before turning to the wall. "I don't know exactly. I just found you in the forest and I couldn't leave you there."

"Oh…" So she helped him. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing out there in the first place, but shook the thought away. "Thanks."

She spun around, fiddling with things behind her, and then faced him with a bowl in hand. "I-I hope you don't mind, but you look like you could use some of it."

He attempted to sit up on his elbows as he looked at the contents. It looked like some kind of soup, with steam rising. The very sight caused his mouth to salivate. He nearly forgot the angry monster in his stomach. Sitting up straight, he took the bowl in his hands and started swallowing mouthfuls. The warm brew eased down his throat, heating his chest. It wasn't long before he finished it.

"You know, I haven't seen you around before." She sheepishly scratched the side of her face.

"Uh…" He debated whether to tell her or not. His kind were normally killed, but since she had just saved his life… "I don't live here. I'm a wanderer."

"I see…" Nodding her head, she then met his gaze, holding it for quite some time. "I promise I won't tell anyone. We're in the stable, so nobody's seen you yet."

"Thank you." His expression relaxed and a gentle smile appeared. He returned the bowl, but quickly clutched his head as another strike of affliction came. She grabbed his hand, a reflex, maybe. Her skin was surprisingly soft as she squeezed, presumably in comfort. He looked up into her eyes. There was no way he would ever forget them; two orbs of calm oceans. Alluring — that was one word to pretty much sum them up.

Whether her action was in comfort or not, the mere touch sent hot sensations throughout his body. He was caught. And for the first time in years, he felt like he belonged.