p.s. I don't own KHR

R&R


Cozart and G, walked down the street supporting Giotto between them. The blond huffed for air at an alarming speed, people ignored them as they tended to others hurt in the rocket attack.

G cringed at the site, all around was nothing but rubble. He was a little glad Giotto couldn't see the carnage they walked through it'd probably give the poor teen a heart attack.

"G, He can't breathe!" he looked to Cozart, who had a serious gaze planted on the blond they carried.

"excuse me, do you need assisstance?" they stopped looking towards the voice. A priest stood proping the chapel door open. One look and he knew the answer.

"come in, quickly" the black haird man stated softly. The two red heads nodded pulling their friend into the building. The priest guided them up some stairs to a small room with several white beds, two of the 6 were occupied by injured.

"here, quickly" the bed closest to the single window in the room was where they placed Giotto slowly making him sit. The priest and G undid his tattered dress shirt removing it, the two friends cringed at the gashes covering his chest.

laying him down as gently as they could, he must have bit down a cry fror he looked ready to cry.

"father, do you need assisstance?" a sister asked taking in the situation, the priest sadi a few fast words sending the girl off to get items.

Before they knew it, the two were also being bandaged up by sisters. but they always kept a good eye on the blond who was being stitched up. When they were done they sat by the bed watching the black haired man work fast.

Said person made grunts of discumfort here and there but stayed very still a mello look slowly growing on his face.

"I take it you were all in the market place?" the father asked as he wrapped Giotto's hand in a bandage.

Cozart and G, only looked at one another. The priest sighed laying the hand down gently by the time he was done the room was more or less empty.

"very unlucky..."

The priest stood but was halted by a hand, he looked down only to recoil slightly from surprise. Giotto's head was illuminated by a small golden flame. He had his none bandaged hand reacing out to him quivering somewhat.

"Giotto..." G said softly taking the hand. to everyones amazment the minute he made contact a red flame flashed up G's arm, and moments later the golden flame dissipated.

His eyes shut a frown formed on his brow. The priest took a cloth from a bowl of water and set it on the Blonde's head.

He stared at the other two who looked just as exhausted and smiled.

"Come, your friend is not to only Extreme case of exhaustion." he stated.

...

Screaming...all around was melting. Screaming in torment. In pain.

His home, they lit it ablaze. Everything around him burned. He could only watch as it engulfed everything he held dear.

"Giotto, run!" Someone screamed but he didn't acknowledge it. A dark silhouette stood ontop of him on foot holding him to the ground pouring a liquid on him.

it smelled like...Gasoline?

The man above said something to someone on his left and their was screaming. Someone was crying.

"Giotto! No!"

...FIRE! he was on fire! why? why was he ablaze? the screaming became hoarse, was he the one screaming?

'it is not your time'

He couldn't 't think. but he could see.

Up above, a bird of white ash hovered above him. it landed on his chest the silhouette faded, it made a screeching noise before enveloping him in its white chalk feathered wings.

...

with a startled scream his eyes opened a hand on his chest. three pairs of eyes watched him from above two he didn't recognize but he saw G, and knew it was ok.

"good evening, Fuoco uccello" an elderly man greeted pating his hand softly.

Giotto must have made a strange face for he earned a chuckle.

the other priest placed a mirror infront of his face and his eyes widened. He saw a small flame on his face.

"f-fire?" he whispered in a haunted voice, without realizing how truly terrified he felt by this lelement. Yet here it was litting up his head...but there was know alarm to anyone, no heat on his part.

"you have the mark of the pheonix." the elderly man said, Giotto looked at him fearfully.

"what does that mean?" at this the older man took on a saddened look.

"it was told in stories, that this mark was givien to ones who perished in unwiling flames."

Giotto's eyes widened before placing his hand on his head, feeling nothing.

"I...I died?"

the flame suddenly went out and Giotto sighed in relief one arm over his face.

Their was a sudden flash of bright yellow light and he shivered a bit.

"again? what was that?" G asked, Giotto looked up again and saw the younger priest giving his hand a perplexed look. Curious Giotto poked it with a finger. The man frozze, as if he expected something only it never happened.

He layed his arm back over his face hissing in defeat, overheating at a rapid speed.

"rest well, you have a small fever." someone said, the blond tried to reply but sleep defeated him.

"hey old man"

the elder looked at, G who had a serious look pointed to Giotto.

"is everything about this uccello, true?"

the elderly man chuckled heading for the stairs.

"it is but a story told to children...but that flame and his seem unatural, but they say that only a powerful will could utilise the dying will of the fire bird for themselves."

G smirked. "That's my boss!"

"I truly wonder how this man's future will turn out." the other priest stated watching Giotto's sleeping form.

"that's easy."

"hm?"

"his future is to kick the mafia's ass outta town"

this earned a chuckle.

"I see. And are you both of that world?"

At this G shrugged.

"maybe one day, but not this day."


fuoco uccello~fire bird

I thank 10th squad 3rd seat for continued support on this story even after dissapearing so long ago :P