Whenever he felt the whoosh of his blood in his ears and the thrumming of adrenaline through his racing heart and the sharp intake of breath that always felt much harsher than it should have, Kyou knew something stupid was about to happen. Namely, from himself.

He only wished he had been better at controlling the force of anger that scared even himself, when he was mad enough. It seeped into his life, sharpening his words and steeling his gazes. It helped keep the others away, though, and he was just fine with that. Other people would exasperate him, looking at him with a look of apparent disgust, or as if they expected him to know what secret signals they must be trying to convey, whatever the hell they were. But it would be best not to think too deeply about that, or he would get even more angry, and that was what scared him so much.

It did not make sense for him to be so terrified of himself, but when he tried to rationalize that he should be able to control himself better, he had to go on a long run in no particular direction except away before he could even breathe properly, and when he asked himself what he was so desperately runnin away from, he began to punch a tree to keep from biting his tongue off.

His hands were always bruised and bloody, but if it kept him from becoming like this too often now, he would chop off his arms, without a moment of hesitation. He almost laughed at the irony that he was so cowardly, even though he had akways been considered pugnacious by the others. But as he felt nearly swept away from the wrath that was clouding his reasoning and sharpening his gaze , feeling his control slipping away at an alarming rate, he nearly seized with fear.

Maybe this time he would learn to stop before someone was punched bloody, or the sound of bones snapping jarred him back to reality, where he would become sick from the white of bone portruding through the skin, at an angle that was in no way natural. However, he doubted it.

Holyshitnakedmen

Mumbling about all the rain, Kyo was spitting with anger at the apparently offensive sky, which had the gall to make his bangs stick to his forehead in an admittedly comical manner. Yuki knew the area well; after all, he spent much of his free time wandering, when he wasn't studying or trying to rouse Shigure into ordering takeout. Having been waited on hand and foot for most of his childhood, his cooking, as well as the similarly preened Shigure, was horrible.

Kyo looked lost. To give him due credit, he always looked a bit lost. Maybe it was being surrounded by the others for a few hours, after so much of his time spent on his own. Either way, he seemed to constantly be in a bout of vertigo, fighting to maintain upright. The other two seemed to at least have an agenda, while the red-haired one was standing upright while the silver haired boy was going through a cycle of tugging on Jui's arms, weaving crowns at a dizzying rate, and harassing Kyo. Admittedly, it did not take much to rile up Kyo. However, instead of being aggressive at the little boy, he seemed more like a wounded animal, sulking and throwing wayward glances at him every now and then, as if he expected Yuki to control them somehow.

After he seemed to calm down a bit, he merely yawned and slumped against Juilaa. Met with a weight almost as much as his, the slightly larger in stature child strained against the weight, before sliding to the ground slowly. Both Kyo and Yuki peered down, as if staring long enough would allow some answer to what was going on.

"Maybe we should get out of the rain," Yuki found himself saying. He didn't look forward to the forty minute hike through the rocky soil and uneven terrain in landslide season, made even weaker by the flash floods. In response, two small heads looked up to the sky. Reilaa stuck his tongue out to catch raindrops, while Juilaa blinked against the drops, as if just noticing that it was raining.

Seeing as the two weren't doing anything, Yuki cocked his head to the side at Kyo as if to say, 'Let's go this way.' Met with a small nod, Yuki figured that Kyo had tired himself out from his run, and the rain pouring down in thick, icy sheets had further depleted his energy. As they got up, the two self-proclaimed cherubs sprung up in a grand display of untangling limbs and offended moans of protest.

"You can't go! We haven't even explained anything~!" Reilaa shouted, in apparent glee. Juilaa's head bobbed in agreement.

"Please! It's too dangerous!" Juilaa agree, and as if in agreement, a bolt of lightning cracked through the sky.

With a heavy sigh, Yuki looked at the pleading faces that met his own eyes.

"We need to get back. Thank you for… everything, but really, we have to get going. Besides, there is nowhere to stay and we can't stay out all night." Eyes brightening, Juilaa pointed over a little ways away to an opening Yuki had seen a million times before.
"We set up camp!" he exclaimed. Peering through the brush, Yuki saw a structure the size of a toolshed, small and unassuming. Figuring he would spend less time coming along for a moment, he turned back, and gave the small boys a look of resignation, before lifting a hand and bowing his head to get through the passing.

Holyshitnakedmen

While Reilaa was beside himself a bundle of energy, whooping and pushing the vehemently pleading Kyo through the vines that Yuki himself had just walked through, Juilaa himself was a frantic mass of trying to remember everything god had said. She had spoken abstractly, which always meant Reilaa would remember little to none of it.

The two of them had been formed at different points, both created to shoulder the energy the boys themselves couldn't hold. It was a commonly followed practice, but the age the boys had started displacing parts of themselves and the storage of memories placed away to keep from losing all means of living was staggering. The weight was so great it had stunted their growth; one held no ability to deal with social situations, and reacted with rage in an elementary way. The other couldn't keep any deep, meaningful relationships, and ran on autopilot most of the time.

While they themselves needed healing, it couldn't begin until they were mentally mature enough to admit they needed help. And that was never an easy thing. The only way they could make the bare minimum of personal growth in order for the healing to work, they had to become one with the fractured pieces of themselves bundled together.

To say it was a suicide mission, although blunt, would be true. Juilaa and Reilaa were incomplete souls themselves; they had assisted god the past year or so to make sure that all missing pieces of the two boys souls were ready to be received, and when they were, no harm would come to the recipients. Because sometimes the shards splintered, or were infected. That meant the entire psyche had to be amputated; the person was a shell, an incomplete, sickly form of what they could be. Both Reilaa and Juilaa were beyond lucky this hadn't happened to them.

Reilaa was so angry at god sometimes for failing them. Juilaa could feel it sometimes coming off him in waves, jagged, sharp, warped confusion and hopelessness. It sucked the breath right out of him. Truth be told, it made him scared to leave Rei alone. He wasn't sure how far the boy would go in the name of justice or spite or whatever emotion he chose to pay homage to, but Juilaa knew if god hadn't returned at the time he had, things could have soured, the reprecussions and strains felt for generations.

God had to leave for a very long time. Every few eons he had to train a MIdigrai, or the equivalent of a middle world angel. They were sometimes called by the name of the original, Maris. They either brought about a new age of prosperity or deliverance or savior positions to be filled. They revived the hope of the people, righted all wrongs, helped to debase the evil that so often ran rampant. In order to do so, god had to become a human. Then she had to be crucified and reborn, in a metaphorical sense. Only then could she begin to help mold the Maris, usually her child or mentor. All details were picked beforehand, in accordance to the Plan almost as ancient as the Word itself. These times god spent on earth meant a spike in the wretchedness, and a time of contentment and a lull of events followed the Maris' work coming into alignment with the Plan.

The Maris' protégée, also known by the term Hosai, brought the Plan along its course. They had come into position. The last part of the Plan was fixing the pieces that had fallen into disarray during the times of discord. Yuki and Kyo were meant to help bring alignment; they held implemental positions in the work of both the Maris and the Hosai themselves, helping them with the course of the world. It was the job of Reilaa and Juilaa to reemerge themselves with the Cat and Mouse, so that they may grow and be fulfilled as the Plan had stated they would be.

Of course, both Yuki and Kyo were not privy to all of the information. The less they knew the less imperfect the story was. That meant, at the end of time, the more power they had for keeping a perfect alignment. The less pain involved, the better it was for everyone. Unfortunately for Rei and Jui alike, both were seriously blocked in terms of chakra. This meant that all the personal boundaries the both of them had must be broken down to become one with their full selves. They had to be perfectly vulnerable to fix themselves. Being as this was what terrified them the most, Juilaa knew he had his work cut out for him.

Following Reilaa through the opening, they came to the small, inconspicuous tent. It was brown and a flap was partially opened, although no one had gone inside yet. Of course, that was because no one besides himself or Reilaa could get inside. Thankfully, the charms god did were useful.

Moving his way to the front, Juilaa felt along the tines of the tent flap to the piece of enchanted fabric to allow him inside. As he pulled it up, he was surprised to feel the presence of another inside there. Figuring that it was just Reilaa, he pushed inward. Pushing the flap out so as to allow the others to come in, he walked in.

Thankfully, not only the outside of the tent was charmed. A perfectly homey yellow wallpaper, crinkled with age, greeted his face. Juilaa was used to this- after all, this tent had become his home away from home. A few overstuffed couches littered the sunroom, and on the floor was a sandy beige carpet thick and lightened with age. A small dining room lay directly behind; off to the side was a sitting room, and to the front left, an office. His room fed through the sitting room with the great fireplace, and Juilaa stayed to the right of the office. The office itself held a small bedroom, and one of the couches in the great room held a bed. To the right of the dining room was a small, sunny kitchen.

As he motioned behind himself for the other two to sit, he went to get the guests some of the foods he knew he kept in the kitchen, in case there was ever a visitor. Turning out the bend, already carrying the tray, however, was not Reilaa. It was god, hair held back with one of the crowns Reilaa had braided, frilly apron adorned, smile spread so wide Juilaa wondered if her face ever hurt like that.