Thank you, Winnow, for your l337 editing skillz.

o0o

"Chaos is a friend of mine." - Bob Dylan

oOo

He'd seen it: the look in her eyes as her trust in him shattered. It was only there for a moment before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed in his arms. With practiced ease, he maneuvered a hand beneath her knees and swept her up into his arms, bridal style.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he walked, rather than flew, to her bedroom. He eased through her window and deposited her carefully on her bed. He wasn't positive how long the sleeping balm would last. Would it run out of her system faster due to his latest infusion of magic? He wasn't sure.

Despite the concern, he found himself sitting down next to her prone form. Something he vaguely identified as guilt kept his eyes staring straight ahead of him at the far wall, rather than look directly at her.

Kazuma settled his elbows on his knees and sighed. "I could say I'm sorry. But I'm not. Not really," he murmured, knowing she couldn't hear him but unable to stop. "I think we both know I'd be putting you more at risk if you came with me than if I left you here." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, honestly, I don't know if you're any safer here than you would be with me. This… sting I'm planning could all be a big damn diversion. He could be drawing me out to get to you. Or he could be expecting me to take you along to stretch me thin protecting you from him. I don't know. All I know is that, for whatever reason, my gut tells me this is the smartest plan to take. I just hope you'll understand."

He turned his eyes to her sleeping face. He could see her eyes darting back and forth beneath her lids, dreaming of something. He wondered if it was more of those memories he'd hoped she wouldn't keep. If it was, then she'd have bigger reasons to be angry with him, anyway. Kazuma leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Or don't understand," he grinned, "you wear anger so well."

He straightened and turned away. Without a backwards glance, he climbed out the window and took to the air.

o0o

Fire blazed around her, and she was terrified. Ayano screamed and clasped her hands to her head, curling her small body into a ball. For a panicked second, she was convinced the painful flames that consumed the ends of her dreams had leapt to the fore. She shuddered as shadows danced behind her closed lids, the fire mere inches away from searing her flesh. Yet, the pain never came. Hesitantly, she cracked one eye open, then the next. The flames writhed about her sneakers and reached tendrils towards the rubber, only to be repelled a moment later. It was then that her mind finally processed that there was no heat to the fire. No heat. No pain. Relief washed through her.

"Give up, Kazuma!" A shrill voice keened.

She raised her eyes towards the sound; her hands fell away from her head. A young Ryo glared daggers at her from a few feet away. His hands were on his knees, and his skinny chest heaved with exertion. Kazuma? Ayano found herself scrambling to her feet without her bidding. Oh. The dream again, she thought.

She suddenly surged towards the boy. Kazuma's shoulders shifted as he turned his right side and slammed into him. Ayano could hear the air whoosh out of Ryo as Kazuma's shoulder thudded into the center of his chest. The boys collapsed in a heap. Ayano winced at the pain that lanced through from his shoulder, but he powered through it. Her perspective shifted as he rolled away and back up on to his feet. She could feel him mentally begging the boy.

Stay down. Stay down. Stay down. Stay down…

Ryo's lips opened and closed quickly. His dark eyes were wide and sparkling with tears of surprise and pain. The wind's knocked out of him. He won't be getting up any time soon. Ayano observed. The sound of a throat clearing brought her gaze twisting around. Her heart leapt into her throat.

"As head of the family, I declare Kazuma the winner of this round." Her mother stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Mama. Mama's alive.

Ayano was shocked to find her mother truly was as beautiful as her pictures. She had long, fuchsia hair that was a shade more crimson than Ayano's own. Her long locks extended down far enough to brush the swell of shapely hips. Voluptuous described her frame perfectly.

"This is ridiculous! I demand a rematch!" Tsuruki bellowed. He stormed forward and shook his finger in his face. Ayano noted he stepped directly over his own son like so much trash.

Ayano's mother turned her ruby eyes on him, a thin eyebrow arched high, "On what grounds?"

"Grounds? That little bastard didn't use magic at all!"

"The spells deflected. You saw as much," Jugo added.

"But, he never used any offensive spells! He's certainly not capable of any defensive spells!"

Genma, possibly sensing that Tsuruki might be getting ready to oust them on their "experiments" with Kazuma in the past, stepped forward. "Defensive spells are spells enough. You know that. If his spells are powerful enough to defend, then he may bloom later into offensive spells."

"It has happened before," Ayano's mother supplied.

Ayano could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. The pride in his voice was palpable, and he couldn't help but burn with embarrassment, knowing that his father had no idea his "late blooming" had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with the wards Ayano had given him. He hoped the wards would resist the fire attacks of his cousins a little and help him lose the Kannagi succession tournament a little less painfully. He hadn't expected to defeat his first opponent through attrition. The wards had worked so well that he'd merely had to wait out the firestorm and for Ryo to exhaust himself. His father looked down on him with such pride—not good. What was he supposed to do?

"Fine." Tsuruki conceded, a slow smile spread across his wan features. Ayano didn't like the look one bit. "If he is a late bloomer, then he should do fine against Ayano. I suggest we pit them against each other."

Genma bobbed his head eagerly, "I find that acceptable, Atsuko?"

The little girl in question bulled her way to the front of the group. At some point she'd had little braids in her hair, but one of them had come undone while she'd been fighting another cousin. The strands curled and twisted around one ear and framed her burgundy eyes in a way that made her look like a wild thing. Her unkempt look was made worse by the angry glare she sent towards the grown-ups. Sweet little girl, she was not. He'd seen enough to know as much when she creamed her cousins. Kazuma wanted nothing to do with fighting her, especially since she was his friend; his only friend.

"I don't wanna fight," she announced with a petulant stomp of her foot.

Atsuko narrowed her eyes at Tsuruki. She, apparently, did not favor the request much, either. "Ayano is a very powerful child, and she still has trouble controlling that power. I don't think it would be wise to put her up against a late bloomer."

Tsuruki turned his cold stare on her. "We have waited long enough to find the next heir to the Kannagi family. Shouldn't we find out now if she is, in fact, the one so that she can receive the proper training to handle such power?"

"But against a late bloomer?" Jugo interjected.

"But what, if Kazuma is the true heir, we could be training the wrong child."

Other family members murmured a similar sentiment. Kazuma's sense of dread began to grow. He racked his brain for the right words to get him out of his impending mess. Nothing came to mind. Dread blossomed into fear as Ayano's arguments fell on deaf ears, and she was pushed to the middle of the ring.

"No! I don't wanna!" she screeched, flames flickered at her feet, and she was forced to stomp around to keep them from setting her shoes alight. Kazuma wondered if she might set her clothes on fire again. Perhaps if she did, they would make them quit? No, then the grown-ups would start asking questions about her wards, no doubt.

"I, I don't wanna fight a girl." Kazuma mumbled and prayed the fear didn't show too readily in his voice. That would shame his father.

Atsuko frowned. "Neither of them want to do this."

"Yes, perhaps we should give these two a pass?" Jugo added.

"No! This must be settled today!" Tsuruki shouted, eyes wild. "I will not watch my son be embarrassed while this little brat runs around unscathed!"

Genma's voice broke in. "Enough, Tsuruki—"

"I will not be silenced!" The skinny man stormed forward and grabbed Ayano by the arm. "Fight him!" He jerked her towards him.

Like any self-respecting young child, the girl instantly exploded into temper tantrum mode. Fire snapped and sparked around her tiny frame as she writhed in his grip. The flames did nothing to deter Tsuruki, and for the hundredth time in his young life, Kazuma wished the flame users could feel the literal rage boiling over the child. The heat radiating off her made it hard to breathe. He took a step backwards to rescue his lungs.

Tsuruki gave Ayano a little shake. "Quit fighting me and teach that little brat a lesson!"

"No!"

"Dammit, child—Ah!" At that moment, the little girl had had enough. Her fire getting her nowhere, she resorted to the next best thing: she bit him. Ayano curled inward, latched onto Tsuruki's hand, and bit down hard. He bellowed and shook his hand to try and dislodge her, but she grasped his arm and held on tight. The air grew even heavier with heat as flames roared to life around her. Finally, even Tsuruki was beginning to sweat. The whole crowd of family members stepped back.

Panic began to set in, Tsuruki placed his free hand on Ayano's forehead and began to push. "Let go! Dammit, let go!"

Kazuma could hear frantic whispers from some group of people he couldn't understand. Whatever it was, it was garbled, yet urgent. Ayano recognized it as spirit talk, but couldn't make sense of it either. She wondered if it had anything to do with her lack of powers. Or perhaps she couldn't understand them because they were wind spirits? It seemed to her that young Kazuma could almost make it out, but not quite. He was compelled to move towards her, though. Something was going to happen that was very, very bad. He was sure of it. He thought the spirits might be trying to tell him that. They'd never talked to him before, so it was hard to say. His feet were moving. Tsuruki raised his free hand.

Atsuko was shouting. The heat was incredible. But his feet were moving.

Kazuma was on him, tugging away the arm he was certain Tsuruki planned to use to strike his one friend. The wards struggled against Ayano's overwhelming power. They burned like hot coals inside his sweater.

"Let go of her!"

"Get off me you little shit!" Tsuruki snarled and jerked his elbow.

At the same time Tsuruki's fingers uncurled ever so slightly. Kazuma saw something glitter in his uncle's hand. At first, Ayano had assumed the object to be light reflecting off a watch face, or some other piece of jewelry, but Kazuma was instantly repulsed by it. It felt bad to him in his gut; made his insides feel cold despite the little girl burning brightly beside him. Surprised and confused by the rush of swift, unpleasant sensation, Kazuma let go just as Tsuruki aimed to shake the boy off. The sudden lack of weight caused his uncle's hand to fly forward from the momentum, driving his fist into Ayano's face.

The fire surrounding Ayano flared brightly the moment the punch impacted. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach instantly intensified. Kazuma was thrown away by the blast of heat that followed. He bounced off the cold earth, and the air whooshed out of his lungs. He gasped for breath, but all he could take in was more super-heated air. He was choking!

Arms surrounded him, and he was pulled away from the fire. He turned his head up to find himself cradled by Atsuko. The nauseating feeling was getting worse by the second. Kazuma was certain something really bad was going to happen really soon. He struggled in Atsuko's grip, still so breathless he couldn't form the words to tell her what was wrong.

The woman turned her eyes down to him, "it's okay, Kazuma. I've got you."

Her own fire flared up around them, forming a protective wall around them. She tried issuing orders to the surrounding family members milling about a healthy distance away but couldn't be heard over the roar of the fire.

The little boy shook his head adamantly. He had to make her see! He waved his arms to draw her attention, struggling for enough air to make words. Finally, Atsuko glanced back down at him. Kazuma pointed at Tsuruki, kneeling several yards away, apparently blown back by the force of Ayano's power as well. He gestured frantically at the man; the source of the awful sickness.

"Tsuruki's fine," Atsuko answered. "He's just stunned, that's all."

Kazuma shook his head and waved to get her attention again.

"Hands," he gasped, "in, in his hands. Bad."

She shifted her gaze back towards her brother. Confusion clouded her vision.

"What?"

"Feels bad," Kazuma wheezed. "Make, make it stop."

Ayano screamed.

Atsuko swore and loosened her grip around the boy. "Can you get up?"

He shook his head "yes," and she gently helped him stand. She pointed away from Tsuruki. "Go that way, your father's there. Tell Jugo to get help."

Kazuma stumbled towards the wall of flames in the direction she indicated. The moment he got close to Atsuko's protective barrier, his wards lit up. They seared his skin. With an anguished cry he threw himself through the barrier, determined to get out. The wards caught fire and burned away. The second he hit the dirt, he realized his sweater was aflame. Kazuma frantically beat at his shirt, rolling around on the ground like he had been taught in school.

Just as he finished putting out his own little fire, he heard another high pitched scream. His eyes turned towards the sound. Ayano was a supernova of energy and flame, flaring brightly as if she were about to explode. Atsuko was running towards her. In his peripheral vision, he saw both his father and Jugo running towards her as well. But that was pointless, the grownups needed to go after Tsuruki, not Ayano!

Fear gripped Kazuma. He hadn't leapt very far, and the heat was still nearly unbearable from where he was. He forced his eyes away from the light and towards his uncle. The man sat in the same crouched position, muttering to himself and the thing in his fist. Chanting, maybe? Between Ayano's screams and the roar of fire, he was certain Atsuko wouldn't be able to hear him call out even if he tried with all his might.

That left it up to him to stop Tsuruki. His stomach twisted at the thought. His uncle had proven quite capable of hurting him and very happy to do so. His dad, wherever he was, was probably too far away to come rescue him this time if Tsuruki really laid into him. It wasn't like he was some superhero like the guys in the Saturday morning cartoons he watched either. The idea of purposely doing something that would definitely cause himself physical pain was extremely unappealing. He'd spent the majority of his childhood trying to avoid it.

Atsuko's alarmed cry snapped his focus back to Ayano. He could see her mother trying to push through the wall of flame surrounding her daughter with almost no success. The harder she bulled in, the stronger the fire pushed back. Atsuko focused her power for a moment and let out a shout. Her war cry caused the flames to flicker and part for a fleeting moment. For a second, he could see Ayano hovering just above the ground, her eyes wide open and glowing crimson, tears streaming down her face, terror and pain etched in her features. Ayano, his friend, was hurting.

He knew then what he had to do. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his burns protested the movement. He knew from experience that he would hurt a lot more tomorrow, but he didn't care. He took off in a dead run towards Tsuruki, ignoring the part of his mind that begged for self-preservation. His uncle never saw him coming. He was so consumed with the object in his hand that when the seventy pound boy barreled into him at full tilt the item flew out of his hand. Immediately, the searing heat surrounding her diminished significantly. The awfulness the boy had been feeling was reduced as well.

Still, something in the garbled whispers urged him that all wasn't well just yet. He needed to get rid of the Bad Thing. Mahogany eyes searched frantically for the object. There, in the bushes a few feet away he saw the glint of gold. He scrambled over his uncle towards the thing, little hands reached out to grab it up.

A tug on his pant leg dragged his attention away. Tsuruki had hold of one of his feet.

"Get away from that you little brat!"

Instinctively, Kazuma kicked out at him with his free foot. His sneaker managed to strike a lucky hit to his uncle's injured hand; the one Ayano had bitten earlier. With a shout, the man leg go, and Kazuma threw himself at the object. His hands closed around it, and immediately the sick feeling overwhelmed him all over again. Immediately, his hands released it, his palms slapped the ground to either side of it to steady himself. He curled his body inward and scooted his knees up under him slightly, using his hunched position to study the thing.

It was a piece of gold twisted into some sort of design he'd never seen before. It had no jewels adorning it, and by the many scratches and dents marring its surface, it had to be pretty old. The older Ayano thought it vaguely resembled character lettering, as if the twisted pieces were meant to spell out something in some arcane language. If it did, it was nothing she recognized, though she'd never been interested in studying arcane languages to begin with. Now she wished she had.

Kazuma was given no more time to investigate the object as a fireball connected squarely with his unprotected back. Instinctively, he curled himself tighter into a ball, wincing whenever an elbow or knee glanced off the object beneath him. More heat slammed into his back. Tsuruki was screaming at him. His vision tunneled, and he buried his head in his hands, wondering if this pain was really worth saving his friend. He hoped he would pass out soon.

"Enough!"

Atsuko's muffled voice silenced Tsuruki. Kazuma cracked an eye in her direction between splayed fingers. She was approaching them, Enraiha in hand, crimson fire crackling through the blade. The head of the family spoke, but he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. He struggled to hear the ensuing conversation between her and Tsuruki. It was something about her being the head, but he couldn't follow it. His body felt terribly heavy and strangely cold.

Come on, Kazuma, stay awake. I need to see this! Don't pass out on me! Adult Ayano urged, panic rising to the fore. She was certain if he lost consciousness that she would miss something vitally important.

Distantly, muffled thuds filtered through the darkness. Then there was nothing, only the labored sounds of his breathing in her mind. Ayano was certain he'd passed out completely. Then slowly, light broke in. She was being turned gently. A hazy image of her mother gradually materialized, the sunlight glinting off her fuchsia hair made her appear angelic to Kazuma. Atsuko's lips were moving, but he couldn't make out the words. Her eyes moved away from his face, towards something else. She frowned.

Kazuma distantly wondered what was bothering his saving grace. Something. What was it? He felt like he needed to do something important. She was reaching over him. Why?

Then it hit him: The Bad Thing. She was reaching for the Bad Thing.

No!

Don't touch it!

N—

The vision collapsed into pain and fire. Ayano woke up screaming the word, "No!"