Thanks everyone for reading! Please send me some feedback. I want to know if this story is good ^-^ Thanks a bunch to IttyBittyTidbits for reviewing so faithfully, and helping a lot with this story! Anyways, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
~Chapter 6~
Amara was floating in a sea of black. There was nothing here; not a soul was seen. Amara was alone, in this sea. She looked around, feeling so tired. Feeling so drained. But no matter how drained she was, she still felt her emotions. Oh, how she wished she couldn't feel at all; how she wished she could be numb. Amara remembered what had happened. She remembered how she almost left her friends to die. How she wanted to, even after all they did for her. Self-loathing clutched her heart, guilt entered her soul. Her whole being was a turbulence of emotional agony. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't care. There were no witnesses here.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her voice echoed in the gloomy darkness. "I'm so, so sorry. I…I don't deserve to live. I wish I could just die."
Another memory tugged at her brain.
You're the one I need to kill, the ghost had said. Amara let out a sigh.
"Maybe it's better if I die," she told herself. "Maybe if I die, then Chichiri and Tasuki wouldn't have to go through so much trouble. Maybe then, they won't be in danger."
Her tears wouldn't stop; her pain refused to relinquish its hold. It was just like what happened to her mother. How she just abandoned her, when she should have stayed. If she didn't leave the car…. Suddenly, it was like she was re-living the nightmare; images flashed before her eyes, like a movie screen, and she couldn't stop it.
It was raining that night. The clouds covered the moon, so only the fluorescent lights of California lit the way. They were far from the beauty of the silver orb in the sky. The rain was pouring on the windshield with enough force that it seemed like the whole car was underwater.
Amara and her mother were heading back home; it was Amara's birthday. They were returning from the skating rink. Amara's hands were full of the presents that her mom gave her, all wrapped in beautiful wrapping paper and neat little bows. Big boxes, little boxes, heavy boxes that she hasn't even opened yet. Amara felt excitement rush through her; she couldn't wait to open them when she got home. Her smile said it all. Right next to her feet were the dainty little ice-skates that were her first opening present. Happiness surged inside of the little Amara, and her eyes showed it. They sparkled and danced as the memories of what happened streamed through her brain, and anticipation of what would come made her smile nearly burst her face.
But that happiness wasn't meant to last.
It all happened in a blur. An eighteen-wheeler slipping on the wet concrete on the bridge. The back of it ramming into the car that her mother drove. The chaos as their car's tires screeched, the car spinning, tumbling, and finally crashing into the rails of the bridge. The glass had long since shattered, the fragments clinging to Amara's hair, cutting her skin. Her hazel orbs were shut tight in fear, but when she did open them, she was horrified at what she saw.
Blood was everywhere; splattered on the windows, dripping from her mother's temple and onto her delicate skin. Glass shards probed deep into her flesh, forcing the sickening crimson to ooze out and trickle down onto the seats. The scent of blood saturated the air, filling Amara's lungs. Tears streamed down from Amara's eyes, her heart racing in fear; dread made her heart plummet to her stomach. The front of the car was half-suspended over the raging river just below them; the current swift and strong. Even Amara knew that if they fell, they would die.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
"M-Mommy?" Amara asked.
Her mother groaned. She looked back at Amara, her eyes wide with panic.
"Amara, listen to me. You have to get out of here. And whatever you do, keep your weight in the back of the car. Do not come towards me."
"But Momm-"
"No buts, Amara," her mother interjected. "Amara, you must live, no matter what." With those words, she reached over to the back seat carefully, and quickly unbuckled Amara's seatbelt. "And always know that I love you. I always have, and I always will. Now I want you to get out."
"But Mommy, what about you?" Amara asked, her eyes wide with fear.
"Don't worry about me! You must live!" her mom ordered. "No matter what, Amara, you must live!"
"But-"
Her mother gave her a stern look. Amara knew that if she left, her mother would die. Somehow, the young girl knew it. She didn't want to leave, or she would be the one responsible for her mother's death. Maybe, if she stayed a little longer, the police would come and help them. The car groaned. Her mother gave her another horrified but insistent look. Her gaze was hard; that look refused any disobedience. Tears streamed from Amara's eyes as she nodded once, muttered her last "I love you," and exited the car. No sooner had she stepped onto the bridge did the car groan once more, and lurched forward. Amara shot her head back just in time to catch her mother's expression. Her brown eyes were wide with fear, but at the same time showed acceptance of her fate. Amara could hear her mother's final scream echo inside her head, over and over, like a haunting melody. Then came the splash as the river claimed her only family.
The brilliant lights of California didn't seem so bright to the little girl anymore. A crowd gathered behind her, at the scene of the crime. Amara could faintly hear the sound of sirens. But all this seemed so dream-like. Almost as if it wasn't really real. As if it wasn't reality, and that this was some sort of nightmare that she could wake up from. However something inside of Amara knew it to be true, and that part drove Amara over the edge. Guilt and fear claimed her heart as she turned on her heels and ran, tears streaming down her face. A few adults tried to grab her, but she managed to slip past their hands. She never stopped.
Finally, she was off of the bridge and into the city, where there were no raging rivers, nor suspended bridges. Where there was nothing but people going their merry way, umbrellas in their hands and not a care in the world. Where everyone was oblivious. Amara felt a sudden chill, could hear the voice of the one person that she knew would be gone from her life forever.
"Amara."
The little girl turned and saw the hazy image of the first of many ghosts she would see in her lifetime: her mother.
The memory finally ended, leaving Amara breathless, tears running down her face. Her heart pounded in her head, a guilty emptiness clouding her senses. No, she couldn't live. Not after she abandoned her mother. If she hadn't left the car, her mother would still be with her, alive. They would be in California right now, chatting about their day, their week, whatever. They would be drinking soda, eating popcorn, and watching movies all night on the weekends. They would be together. But they couldn't be, just because Amara abandoned her.
Fire suddenly flared up around her. A burning, crimson flame that sought to take her life. It was the most beautiful thing Amara has ever seen; entrancing. She looked deep into the flames, aware of the danger, but ignoring it. She loved this fire.
Suddenly, she felt something soothing and cool wash over the flames, trying to put it out. The beautiful fire that flickered with the image of her mother. Amara could feel the presence of another; could hear the childish voice that called to her.
"Amara-san! Let me heal you, please!" the voice cried.
"No!" Amara cried, forcing it back with all the strength she had.
Amara mounted imaginary walls surrounding the fire; her inner barriers. She couldn't let this fire be destroyed. She curled up into a ball and looked deep into the flames that surrounded her. She could practically see her mother reaching for her. She could practically hear her calling her name. Amara closed her eyes.
Maybe it's time to be with her again.
xxxx
Chichiri opened his eye, his face still without its mask. He squinted as the bright light momentarily blinded him. When his eye adjusted, a child's face suddenly popped up into his field of vision. His eye widened and he stiffened for a split second, then he relaxed.
"Nyan-Nyan," he greeted the blue-haired, purple-eyed goddess.
"Chichiri-san!" the girl cried, grinning a toothy grin. "I'm glad you're awake! I took out all the icky stuff in your body that the mean old lady put in it!"
Chichiri smiled. "Thank you, no da."
Nyan-Nyan nodded again, still grinning. She held her hands behind her back, like she was hiding something, and the gleam in her eyes told Chichiri exactly what it was.
"Nyan-Nyan, can you please give me back my mask, no da?" he asked as he held out his hand for it.
Nyan-Nyan's eyes grew big. "But, Chichiri-san! I can heal that scar! Then you won't need to hide your face! I mean-"
Chichiri shook his head, cutting her off. "It's alright, Nyan-Nyan. Just give it back, no da."
The girl pouted, but did as he asked. Chichiri put the smiling mask on.
"Thanks, no da."
Chichiri walked through the halls of the palace where Taiitsukun resided. After Nyan-Nyan told him that Taiitsukun came right after the battle with the ghost and brought him to Mt. Taikyoku, he had quite a few questions on his mind. Pertaining to Amara. So, he went to search for Taiitsukun.
Nyan-Nyan cartwheeled in the air, giggling like a maniac. Chichiri smiled at her antics, the rings on his staff jingling with every step he took. Tasuki yawned as he came out of his bedroom, which just so happened to be near Chichiri was at the moment. He rubbed his eyes sleepily.
"Oi, Chichiri, are we dead?" he asked.
"No. We're in Mt. Taikyoku, no da," he told him. "I want to ask Taiitsukun a few questions. Wanna come, no da?"
"Sure!"
Suddenly, Taiitsukun appeared behind Tasuki, a grave expression on her face. Tasuki literally jumped three feet into the air. He landed on his butt, his hand clutching his chest, where his heart was.
"Damn it, ya ol' hag! Quit scarin' me!" Tasuki cried, pointing irritably at her wrinkled face.
"I'm not a hag, you dimwit," was her reply.
The Nyan-Nyan that was with Chichiri went by her side. She looked up at her master.
"Taiitsukun-sama, can I heal your face?" she asked cutely.
A vein popped in Taiitsukun's forehead. "No! Quit bugging me!"
Nyan-Nyan went into a giggling fit and resumed her cartwheels in the air. Taiitsukun looked at the two seishi warriors in front of her. The atmosphere around them changed dramatically, and even Tasuki could tell that.
"Listen. Amara-san's subconscious is refusing Nyan-Nyan's healing powers. She's unconscious, has a fever, and her life force is dangerously low. I believe she wants to die."
Tasuki's eyes widened. "What? That's not possible! Amara would never-"
"Well, she does," Taiitsukun snapped.
Another Nyan-Nyan popped out of nowhere, beside Taiitsukun. She nodded her head vigorously, her purple eyes full of worry. Taiitsukun looked at the two warriors seriously, which in turn, looked at each other. Tasuki's eyes narrowed, a fire burning within them.
"Where's her room? I'm gonna give her a hell of a good talkin' to!"
Taiitsukun led them to Amara's room herself. As the door to the room came into sight, Tasuki ran ahead, bursting through the door. Sure enough, Amara was laying sprawled under the sheets. A cold sweat gleamed on her forehead, and her breathing was shallow and quick. Her face was flushed with fever. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the full extent of Amara's condition. He looked at the floor, tears in his eyes. Then, he stormed over to her bed. He grabbed her by her shoulders, a single tear falling from his eyes.
"Damn it, Amara! Wake up!" he cried, shaking her slightly. "You can beat this! You can't die now! Not when we're just gettin' ta know each other! Damn it, wake up!" he shook a little harder. "Why won't you wake up, damn it?"
Chichiri walked over and laid a hand on Tasuki's shoulder. Just before Tasuki shook Amara again, he spoke.
"Tasuki, shaking her won't do any good, no da."
The sad tone in Chichiri's voice made Tasuki let go. He looked back at the monk, tears still in his amber eyes. He huffed, quickly wiped away the tears, and stormed out of the room. Taiitsukun watched him go. Once the door closed, she turned to Chichiri.
"Chichiri, if her life force remains as it is, and if she doesn't allow Nyan-Nyan to heal her, she will die," Taiitsukun informed him. "Will you allow that to happen?"
"What are you talking about, Taiitsukun, no da?" Chichiri asked, looking down sadly at Amara. Her quick, shallow breaths echoed in his ears. "What can I do? She probably doesn't trust me as much as she doesn't trust Nyan-Nyan, no da. She's suspicious of everyone, no da. She'll most likely not allow my life force in either."
Taiitsukun shook her head gravely. "I'm sure Amara has her secrets, Chichiri, as do you. And I'm sure she's not ready to tell them to you just yet, because she doesn't trust you. But she did risk her life to protect you and Tasuki, even when the chance to escape was within her grasp. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Chichiri nodded, finally looking up at Taiitsukun. "I think I do, no da."
Taiitsukun nodded tersely. "Good." With that, she vanished from the room.
Chichiri looked down at the girl on the bed and let out a sigh. He knew what he would have to do, but he'd have to be careful. If he wasn't… he shuddered mentally at what could happen.
The monk carefully took off his mask. If he was going to do this, he knew deep down that he would have to come clean. He couldn't hide his real face, if he expected Amara to trust him at all. Chichiri placed the mask on the nightstand next to the bed and kneeled down. His face was so close to Amara's now. He could feel her warm breath caress his face; he closed his eyes. He could hear her frantic heartbeat as it struggled to keep her alive.
Without warning, her chest stopped moving. She wasn't breathing, and Chichiri could hear her heartbeat slowing down. Without another hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers. Chichiri closed his eye as he sent his own life force into hers, as he himself felt like he was being sucked in.
It was so dark, in Amara's mind, Chichiri noticed. He looked around. There was nothing but darkness here, and a sense of emotional suffering and self-hatred. It saddened him to see that the seemingly happy Amara would harbor such awful emotions. He shook his head.
'I have to find Amara, no da,' he thought to himself as he began moving.
As he wandered in the darkness, he began to see a glimmer of light, as well as feel a burning heat. The monk ran over to where it was, certain that Amara was there somewhere in the midst of the burning sensation. He stopped as he saw roaring flames surround Amara. She was curled into a ball, tears streaming down her eyes. It was almost as if she accepted those flames. Chichiri took a step towards her, but something was in the way. Now that he looked at it, it was a clear, but bluish, barrier that kept the fire in, and everything else out. He banged his fist on it to get her attention.
"Amara-san!" Chichiri cried. "Amara-san, let me help you, no da!"
Amara looked up, but the look in her eyes made Chichiri freeze. They were dead. As if she no longer had the will to live. Tears streamed down her eyes, her eyes bloodshot, and Chichiri couldn't help but wonder if she was crying all this time.
"Chichiri…." Amara whispered.
"Amara-san! Let me help you!" Chichiri cried. "I won't leave until you do, no da!"
Amara shook her head, much to the monk's disbelief. His eyes widened at her next words.
"I'm so sorry, Chichiri. I'm so, so sorry. I don't deserve you and Tasuki. I was about to abandon you both, so I can save myself, just like…just like…."
But she couldn't bring herself to finish. A sob racked her body, and she buried her face into her hands. Her sobs made the monk's heart break. Chichiri realized then, that he had to save her. Save her from all this agony that had been growing inside of her heart, save her from herself. Chichiri banged on the barrier again.
"Amara! Let me in!"
Amara shook her head vigorously, not once looking at him. "No! Just leave me alone, Chichiri! Let me die!"
"No, I won't leave you, no da!" Chichiri exclaimed, trying to sound light-hearted but failing. "You know that I won't leave you. Please, Amara-san. Let me in!"
"No! Get away from me!" Amara cried, finally looking up at him. She stood up, the flames getting closer to her with every passing second. "We've only known each other for a few days! Why do you want to save me so bad? What're you trying to do?"
Amara's distrust tore at Chichiri's heart . He put a hand on the barrier, his brown eye revealing his sorrow.
"I'm trying to help you, no da," Chichiri answered. "Why can't you trust me, Amara-san? Why won't you let me in?"
Something pulsed in the barrier, and images flickered in Chichiri's head.
A little, five-year-old Amara was playing at some sort of park. It was nearing sunset. Amara was swinging alone, her little fists holding tightly to the ropes. A cute smile was on her face as she swung higher and higher, her feet reaching for the sky. Suddenly, a man walked up to her.
"Hey, sweetie," the man said in a gentle voice as he kneeled to her level. "You're Amara Durand, right?"
Amara stopped the swing and looked at the man. She gave him a grin.
"Yep." her voice was high-pitched and cute. "Is there anything I can do for you, mister?"
The man chuckled. "No, you're mother just told me to come and get you, is all. Come on, I'll take you to her. She's worried about you."
Amara smiled. "Okay!"
She got off the swing and took the man's hand. As they were walking, Amara's mother suddenly rounded the corner of a building, her eyes wide with fear. One look at the man and Amara sent her into a rage. She ran over to the man, her eyes full of hatred, and jerked Amara away from him.
"What the hell are you trying to do with my daughter?" she cried. "Don't you dare touch my baby!"
The man's eyes widened, and he held his hands up in a placatory manner. Then, in a heartbeat, the man ran off. Amara's mother took out her phone and called the police. When she hung up, Amara looked up at her mother, confusion in her eyes.
"But Mommy, he was going to bring me to you," Amara told her.
Her mother hugged her tightly, tears trickling from her eyes.
"No, Amara. He wasn't going to bring you to me. He was going to take you."
Amara's eyes widened. "Why would he do that?"
"Because he wanted to hurt you. You can't ever leave my side. You must never trust people, Amara."
"But Mommy, there's nice people out there too, right?"
"Sure there is. But not many, sweetie. I don't want you to trust anyone other than Mommy, okay?"
Amara nodded, then she looked in the direction the man ran. She looked back to her mother with wide, hazel eyes.
"Mommy? Why don't I have a daddy?"
Her mother's eyes widened for a split second, then they softened. She hugged her daughter again and whispered a story in her ear.
"You do have a daddy, Amara. It's just, he doesn't know you're alive. A long time ago, Mommy was dancing one night and went to get something to drink. But when she wasn't looking, someone put something in her drink. Mommy felt really bad that night, and the next thing she knew, she had you in her tummy. And she never saw your daddy, not even once."
Amara's eyes widened. She pulled away from her mother and looked up at her. Her mom's eyes were full of tears, and it hurt the child to see her mother that way. To see her so sad. Amara reached a chubby hand to her mom's face and wiped away a tear.
"But Mommy's feeling better now, right?" the child asked. "I don't need a daddy, as long as I have Mommy."
Her mother smiled and hugged the little girl. She ran her fingers down her daughter's dark brown hair, tears still streaming from her eyes.
"Amara, please don't trust anyone. They'll only end up hurting you. I love you, I love you so much. I don't want to see you hurt. Promise me that you won't trust anyone other than me."
Amara nodded into the hug. She clutched her mother's shirt.
"I promise."
Chichiri suddenly found himself back where he was, in Amara's subconscious. His hand was still on the barrier. His eye widened as he quickly took his hand off as if he'd been burned.
'That…was her memory?' Chichiri asked himself. 'How tragic…to grow up without a father….'
He looked over to Amara. Her eyes were wide, and her body trembled. Her hands were hugging herself. By the look in her eyes, he knew that she could tell he saw that memory.
"Please, Chichiri," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "Go away. Please go away."
Chichiri shook his head, determined. "No."
Without any more words, Chichiri used some of his life force to get inside, to Amara. Past the barrier that protected her. He pushed against it. Amara's energy crackled around him, trying to force him out, but he didn't give up. He grit his teeth against the energy.
'This…barrier's…strong, no da,' he thought to himself as he pushed himself inside, his own life force protecting him.
"Why are you doing this, Chichiri?" Amara shrieked. "Why? You don't even know me!"
Chichiri looked at her. "I…won't…let…you go, no da."
Images of Hikou flashed in the monk's mind. Tears stung at his eyes as he remembered holding Hikou's hand when he was being washed away in the flood, then when his soul was leaving him for the second time. He pushed them back and continued forcing himself through. He was determined not to let death claim this girl, too.
"Why?" This time, tears trickled down from Amara's wide, hazel eyes.
Finally, the heat of Amara's fever rushed to Chichiri's face as he pushed past the last of Amara's barrier. He fell to his knees, panting slightly. The fire that raged inside of Amara's barrier was rushing for her now, as if it was trying to take her before he could save her. He got up and quickly ran to Amara as the flames licked at her feet. She bit down her lip, trying not to cry out from the pain as the flames seared her legs.
Chichiri finally made it. He pulled Amara into a hug, and sent his chi out, forming a barrier that spanned outwards. His chi put out the fire that sought Amara's life, and all that was left in her world was them and the smoke.
Amara couldn't push him away. Tears streamed from her eyes as her heart beat irregularly in her chest. She looked up at Chichiri, just as he looked down at her. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw his real face. She gingerly reached up and traced her fingers across the scar that spanned over his left eye and across the bridge of his nose. Chichiri stiffened, but didn't push her away. He didn't even turn away from her; he just stared into those hazel eyes that seemed to captivate him.
"Why?" Amara asked as she retracted her hand. Her voice was no louder than a whisper. "Why did you save me, when I almost left you and Tasuki to die?"
Chichiri released his hold on her and took a step back, a smile forming on his face. "But you didn't leave us, Amara-san, no da. I'm proud of you, no da."
Amara pouted. "You didn't answer my question."
Chichiri laughed. "Sorry. I saved you because I don't want you to die, Amara-san, no da. You're my friend, and I care about you, no da. That's all there is to it."
Amara was stunned into silence. Then she let out a grin. With that smile, the walls that she had built and kept up all this time came crumbling down.
"Thank you," she whispered.
With those two words, the monk could feel himself being rushed backwards, away from Amara. Chichiri opened his eye, suddenly back in the room at Taiitsukun's palace. Before him lay Amara, her dark, reddish brown hair scattered over the sheets, her breathing now deep and quiet. The flush on her cheeks was now gone, the fever broken. Her chi was slowly rising, he observed. He let out a sigh of relief. He did it.
The monk felt drained. It took more chi than he anticipated to get through Amara's barriers. He felt slightly guilty that he saw one of her memories, but it did explain why she was so suspicious of people. He reached over to the mask that sat on the nightstand and put it on. As he turned back to Amara, he smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
"Thank you."
Amara's voice suddenly echoed in his head as he touched her skin, sounding out those last two words he heard from her.
"You're welcome, Amara-san," he said quietly as he stood up and walked out of the room.
xxxx
Amara could feel the soft sheets under her, the warm comforter blanketing her. She could feel her chest rise and fall, could hear the sound of silence that rang in her ears. She could hear her own blood swish through her veins. She felt different. There was something about her that just felt different today, but she couldn't quite place it. She could feel someone else's presence, not only in the room, but inside her, somehow.
She finally opened her eyes, then grimaced as light flooded her vision. Amara blinked, trying to adjust her eyes. Once her vision cleared, two faces suddenly popped up in her face. One was a blue-haired, purple-eyed girl, and the other was a super deformed monk.
"Good morning!" Chichiri cried happily in a childish way. "Good morning, Amara-san no da!"
"Yay! Nyan-Nyan's here to help you! That's me!" the purple-eyed girl cried, grinning and patting herself on her chest. "Amara-san worried Nyan-Nyan and everybody! I'm so happy you're safe now!"
Amara blinked, unsure of what to make all of this. Hazel eyes met purple ones, then flitted to the cat-like ones of the monk.
"Uh….sorry?"
Suddenly, she heard speeding footsteps behind the door to her room. Without warning, Tasuki slammed the door open, panting slightly. He literally crossed the room in two steps. He looked down at her, composing himself, his amber eyes betraying his joy. He tried to hide it in a scowl.
"You idiot! Why'dja have ta go an' worry us like that?" he cried, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her roughly to prove his point. "We were worried sick 'boutcha! What the hell was goin' through yer head?"
Amara began feeling light-headed from all the shaking. Finally, Tasuki stopped, letting out a small huff. The room spun, and Amara let out a grin.
"Sorry…."
"Yer damn right, ya should be," Tasuki huffed again and turned his back to her.
Amara's grin got bigger. She leaned over and hugged Tasuki from behind. He blinked, a small blush forming on his face.
"Thanks, Tasu," Amara said. "Thanks for worrying about me."
Tasuki blinked, then let out another small huff. He took a sudden interest in the floor.
"Sure. Just don't make me do it again. It ain't fun, I'll tell ya that."
Amara laughed, then turned back to Chichiri. He was back to his normal, non-chibi self. She could feel something connecting each other, as she looked at the monk. She mentally shook her head, dismissing the thought. Maybe something went haywire in her brain or something; she couldn't understand it. Chichiri cocked his head to the side in an endearing, questioning manner. Amara blinked, suddenly realizing that she was staring at him. She grinned, a barely noticeable blush tinting her cheeks.
"Sorry, sorry."
Chichiri grinned back.
Tasuki suddenly left, muttering something about going to try to find something to eat and some sake. Amara sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Now she was alone with Chichiri, and that strange feeling was back with a vengeance. She decided to ignore it.
"So….how long was I out?" she suddenly asked, looking at the monk.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her nightstand. He seemed to be contemplating about something. After a few seconds he looked up at her.
"About two weeks, no da."
Amara shot up. "What? Two whole weeks?"
"You were exhausted, no da. And you had a fever. You needed the rest, no da."
Amara jumped out of bed. She nearly stumbled when her foot touched the floor, but quickly regained her balance.
"I can't believe I was out for two whole weeks!" she cried as she ran out the door. "I need to get something to eat! My stomach doesn't even have enough energy to growl! Wait up Tasuki!"
Chichiri laughed, and shook his head as he watched her go.
Amara had finally caught up with Tasuki and ate breakfast with him. It wasn't long until Chichiri joined them. Amara sighed with content as she leaned against her chair, completely satisfied. She felt better than she had in ages. Lighter, even though she swore she downed three pounds of food. She spaced out, ignoring the conversation that the two seishi warriors were in.
Suddenly, Taiitsukun appeared in the middle of the trio, her face serious and scary beyond all reason. With a cry of surprise, Tasuki pushed back on his chair and fell on the floor, his leg twitching slightly. Amara herself was startled by the unexpected appearance. She let out a startled yelp.
Amara took a deep, calming breath and looked at Tasuki. What she saw made her laugh, but she covered her mouth with her to suppress it, only to end up failing miserably. Tasuki sat up and gave her a glare. Taiitsukun cleared her throat, drawing attention to herself.
"Amara-san, I've watched you these past few days."
Amara's eyes widened. "You mean you were stalking me?" she asked in a horrified tone.
"No, you idiot! I'm an oracle! I keep tabs on everything in this world!" Taiitsukun cried in defense. "Sheesh. Young people don't learn any respect these days."
Amara gave her a seated bow over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted in time with her bows.
Taiitsukun raised an eyebrow. 'Strange girl,' she thought to herself. She shook her head.
"Now listen. It appears you have a purpose in this world, Amara-san. And from the information I have acquired, I believe I know what it is." The oracle suddenly turned in mid-air and began drifting towards the door. "Follow me. I have something to show you."