Ikuto

We were falling, falling through an endless vortex of stars that swirled around us, glittering particles mysterious in their endless spectrum, a strange wind rushing up past us as we fell. Beneath us, a long, shining road glimmered, a curving path that beckoned us towards it, disappearing into the infinite distance, unending. Around Amu's neck was the Humpty Lock, shining with multicolored light to match the Key around my own throat.

With a soft thump, the two of us landed on the road, blinking in breathless surprise at this universe of glowing shards around us.

"The road of stars," Ran said, astounded.

"How did we get here?" I wondered, turning to stare at the ethereal scene that surrounded every fibre of our beings.

"I don't know," Amu said in confusion. "The Dream Thief, it touched my Lock, and then suddenly we were falling. "Where is it now, do you think?"

I frowned, raising a hand to my Key and gripping it tightly. "I don't know. But we're here for a reason, so we might as well follow the road and see where it takes us."

And so we walked. Step after step, cautiously into the vortex devoid of darkness, watching the stars swirl and twinkle merrily around us, laughing and alight. It seemed music echoed around the two of us, a harmony of silence and sound, joyful noise inside a great quiet so beautiful it was indescribable. Colors I could not name shone, whispering comfort and hope. It was tranquil, even in the depths of the danger we now faced.

"I think we have to step off the path."

I stopped. "What?"

Dia floated between us, her expression thoughtful. "I think we're supposed to step off the path." She reached her hand out to the sparkles. "Last time Amu was here, there was a disruption. And because the Road of Stars is so unpredictable, she was caught up in the stars and landed elsewhere, but it also happened to be the places she wanted to go."

"So right now, that would be where the Dream Thief is," Miki added.

Amu peeked over the edge and paled. It was an endless spiral into nothingness. Well-lit, beautiful and magical nothingness, but nothingness all the same. "Well, then," She whispered, her grip on my hand tightening. "I guess we'd better get going."

"Don't worry, I've got you," I told her gently. "Whatever happens, I'll be there."

She smiled and nodded, but inside, we both knew how fragile this statement was. "I will, too."

A recent memory flickered in my head like a light, somehow distant and close at the same time. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye," I told her lightly.

She squeezed my hand, and now her eyes were fierce and determined, her voice powerful. "This promise I'll defend, I will until the end."

And with that, we stepped off the path.

Immediately the vortex began to churn, twisting and writhing violently, bending as we shot through the maelstrom with the force of a bullet, corkscrewing and spinning. Pure adrenaline shot through my veins, and I heard myself yelling, my voice mingling with the sound of Amu's screams, clutching her hand tighter and terrified of what would happen if I let her go.

Then blackness.

The moon, bright and clear in its nostalgic beauty, held back the veil of dark winter clouds that demanded the relief of darkness in the night sky. The small army had crowded itself on the enormous warehouse's rooftop, the hundreds easily fitting on that view to the heavens.

"Let go of us!" Rima growled, writhing in her chains. Her eyes were filled with spite for this monster, who crouched in front of her, its rancid breath filling her nostrils and making her eyes water. One of her legs was twisted in a rather sick way.

The eight left behind and their allies had been captured after the disappearance of Amu and Ikuto. It had been quick, capturing them, a humiliating defeat, but what did it matter? Now the eight sat together, still transformed and tied with chains, unable to move.

Tadase, who had several thin scrapes, clutched his side, chalk-white and breathing heavily as he clutched desperately at his side, which was soaked crimson. Tsukasa, battered and bruised, was squeezing his eyes shut, screwing his face up as if in pain as the color began to return to his nephew's cheeks.

"Why are you doing this?" Yaya pleaded. One of her thumbs was red and swollen, a token she had received from punching a werewolf in the snout and keeping her thumb tucked in instead of out as it should have been.

Kairi was still unconscious, blacked out from his four broken ribs. He was pale, and his breathing was unnatural, eyes moving beneath his lids as if in a nightmare.

Nadeshiko was covered in bright red welts, her kimono torn. "We don't have the Lock and Key, so why don't you just let us go? We can't hurt you," She said coaxingly, her voice dripping with honey and sugar.

"Exactly," Nagihiko agreed, his voice just as sweet and slippery. A long, shallow cut dripped blood down his shoulder. "We're powerless against you. We promise we won't do any harm."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Utau grumbled under her breath, silently making death threat after death threat at the Dream Thief. Her arms were covered with endless cuts and scrapes, having been battered in the hanging chains by the malevolent spirits.

Kukai was returning to consciousness, having been knocked out with a particularly vicious knock to the head by a particularly disgruntled troll that Kukai had kicked where the sun didn't particularly shine while trying to escape. He moaned, clutching the large goose egg that was forming on his skull.

The Dream Thief did not move. It did not make a sound, did not stir in the slightest. After it had disappeared along with Amu and Ikuto, there had been a long silence, before it reappeared, eyes wild as it screamed its shrill, metallic shriek, and raised the war cries of its army. But in the midst of the battle, it had fallen and did not move again, even as its body had been lifted and carried up the spiral staircase to the rooftop and laid with more gentility on the ground than the last eight believed it deserved.

Now there was silence, for the scene made little sense. Why had they been brought to the roof? Why did this monster, this slayer of dreams, why did it not harm them? Where were Amu and Ikuto? The demon's army was clearly waiting for something to happen, so why did it not happen now?

Alas, the answer was clear as day, and it would not be long before the last defense was defeated and all would fall to eternal slumber.

"Ikuto, wake up."

Daylight streamed through the image of soft pink sakura, rustling as a cool breeze wound its way through the dark branches, dancing with the tiny blossoms and feeing loose petals to fly away gracefully. I sat up blinking, staring at the glorious scene. Amu sat beside me, her eyes questioning.

I lay upon a worn rock thick with damp moss. Burbling happily several feet away was a gently rushing brook that sparkled with clear water. Tiny fish darted here and there, visible through the pure stream. Farther back, a high distance from the river, were many bushes of beautiful and poisonous azalea. Closer, just a few feet away, a stone well stood, appearing several decades old and slightly worn but still standing proud. All around it, tiny sumire were tickled by the faint breeze, delicate violets with their tiny purple veins.

"Where are we?" I murmured, feeling the soft emerald green grass brush my hands with its long tendrils.

"I don't know," She said, her brow furrowed, "But for some reason, this place seems familiar..."

I lifted my head to the cherry blossoms. "The sakura are beautiful. I don't think I've seen such an untouched natural place in a long time."

"Untouched wilderness, sakura, and obviously we're still in Japan..." Her eyes brightened. "It's springtime. In Yoshinoyama."

"But how long ago?" I wondered.

Suddenly Amu stiffened. I turned to see what she saw, and caught the sight of a youth, seemingly my age, dressed in a plain dark blue kimono with shining dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His dark eyes glinted with merriment as he stood by the thin stream, taking in the beauty before bending down to pick tiny leaves off a plant. He wore the clothes of a low-class man over a century ago would have worn, slightly ruffled with his juban sticking out a little more than proper, his geta scuffed and his obi slightly crooked.

"Who is that?" Miki hissed, wary of this new arrival.

Su twirled. "I don't know, but he seems friendly enough. Hello!" She called, floating hopefully towards the man.

"Su!" Amu said, astonished, and leapt after her, stuffing her into her pocket and apologizing hastily. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't..."

The man paid no attention to her, acting as if she were not even there, standing next to him. He simply straightened, inspected a dark green leaf, then shook his head and bent over again, utterly absorbed in his work.

Amu blinked. "Um... Sir? Hello?"

Nothing. I grew suspicious. "Hold on a second..." I stepped forward and lifted a hand to touch the man. As my hand touched him, it disappeared. Amu gasped.

"Is... is he..."

I shook my head. "I don't think he's a spirit. I think we're in the past. Or a memory, perhaps." A flicker of realization passed over Amu's face.

Dia cocked her head. "We're in the Dream Thief's memories."

"Does that mean we're inside it's head?" Ran looked terrified.

Dia shook her head, but Yoru answered for her. "Nope, the Road of Stars is above space and time~nya," He said importantly. "I know 'cause of last time. That's what this one said."

An outburst of laughter caused the two of us to turn, the man still oblivious to the world around him. Through the trees burst a beautiful woman, her long dark hair pulled back in a loose tie. She had to have been Amu's age, just seventeen. Her soft, yellow-white kimono, unlike this poor man's, seemed to be made of cotton, with tiny white flowers scattered across the skirts and the long sleeves. Her eyes sparkled as she flew towards the well, abandoning any sense of proper dignity mandatory for her obviously high status. Flinging herself forward, she drooped to her knees, laughing aloud.

In extremely formal, old-fashinoned and hard to understand Japanese, her several companions giggled and scolded her for her 'her improper behavior', 'what her father would say' and 'her obi was coming undone and her kimono was probably stained now', but their tones were cheerful; they carried large baskets filled to the brims with sumire.

Their laughter turned to shrieks as the woman, with her hand outstretched, cried out in pain and terror as a snake, brown and striped, struck from the violets she reached for, hissing angrily before slither away.

The woman collapsed in a dead faint, her face pale, lying motionless on the ground. Immediately her companions were at her side, trying to wake her, wails of sadness and panic rising through the trees.

Now the man had looked up, surprised to see others so close, and approached the women with curiosity and some caution. As he came forward, the women started and looked at him, confused and distressed.

He spoke to them in a gentle manner, smiling kindly. "Do not be so sad! I can restore the young lady to consciousness if you will allow me." He knelt at her side, examining her for a short time. Producing a small case, he poured a small amount of powder into his hands, mentioning that he was a doctor from a neighbouring town. He offered it to one of the women who was slightly more distinguished than her fellows. The man spoke to give the powder to the ladt as he hunted for the snake.

The woman nodded, and after an order that sent another to fetch water from the well, forced open her mouth and poured the powder along with a trickle of water and made her swallow it. Immediately the woman began to stir, her eyes moving under her lids, colour beginning to return to her cheeks.

"This is so familiar," Amu mumbled, moving forward unconsciously. "I feel like I've read a good book, and now I'm seeing a movie that's exactly like it."

"It is a little familiar," I agreed, keeping my eyes fixed on the violet well.

The man returned, holding the dead snake with a stick. Coming forward, he asked something. I caught 'snake' and 'this particular one'.

The women nodded and agreed, murmuring fearfully and inching away from the limp, scaly body. The man bowed his head, speaking of the snake and its dangerous venom, and the women nodded, thanking him gratefully.

As the man spoke his last words, the young woman sat up, blinking in confusion. Her eyes went straight to the youth, and for a moment the two seemed speechless. She coloured, and with a shy smile she asked who this man she was that she was now indebted to, her voice softer and her eyes shining as she took him in.

He did not answer, merely giving her a bright smile, his eyes dancing like two kites in the wind. He knelt and bowed respectively, then straightened left, disappearing into the trees, and he was gone.

After some time of staring after him, the woman accepted her companions' offers to help her stand, and they left.

"What now?" Amu asked. "Do we follow them?"

"But which do we follow, the man or the woman?" I asked.

As it turned out, it didn't matter, because the next moment the world dissolved with light, and then it was blackness once more.

We stood on the edge of a clearing, the sakura glowing under the light of the moon, almost full. In front of us, rising against the sky, was a tatami house, under cover of the cherry blossoms. We were located at what must have been the back of the house, with its luxuriant gardens set below the house, the faint scent of flowers wafted towards our noses. The air was still, and the quiet murmur of the forest seemed muted, as if all lay in wait for what would happen next.

"I think we're still in the same time period," Amu whispered. "And it looks like the same general area as before."

"But how close are we to the first memory?" I mused.

The movement flashed across my vision, and the girl from before had appeared behind a tree. She no longer wore her rich clothes from before, but now was dressed like that of a laborer, a male one at that. She itched unconsciously at her rough cottons, obviously unused to them; it had to have been but a few days at most since she had first used them, not even a week.

She glanced back, and seeing no one, raced towards us, her face alight with determination and hope; her expression was extremely similar to one I had seen Amu often wear. She ran right through us and kept running, flying across the fields and laughing breathlessly as she disappeared into the trees.

"Follow her," I whispered, and with a pop, I had chara-changed with Yoru, leaping up into the trees and following from above. Amu, chara-changed with Ran, was flying silently in the air, intently trailing this girl.

"I think I know where she's going," I heard her hiss. "Head to that place we were first at."

Zooming ahead of the woman, I followed Amu as she scanned the ground, then shot towards a clearing by a river. Sure enough, there was the field of sumire, the riverbank, the violet well.

Standing next to the well with an expectant smile on his face was the youth from before, still handsome as ever with an added hint of young love, obviously slightly nervous. In his hand, he twirled a tiny violet.

We settled next to him, waiting patiently, and in a few minutes' passing the girl came from the trees, slowly and hesitantly as she peeked around. Seeing no one, she smiled and glided towards her fellow teen, coming to a graceful stop before him.

Awkward silence, then the youth knelt and lifted his hands, holding out the violet to her, speaking softly with words of a 'gift' and 'for my princess'. She beamed and took it from him, thanking him softly. She sat beside him on the grass, and a natural as a fish in water, the two began to talk. It had become harder and harder to understand their words, they flowed fast and quick in earnest, but from their actions, from her flushed cheeks and his happy grin, it was clear the two were, speaking romantically, 'meant to be together'. Like Amu and I.

I caught movement in my vision again, and saw the form of another woman. It was a companion of the girl that I had seen before, and she had an expression of pity on her face, bittersweet as she watched the two lovers draw closer and closer to each other. She smiled sadly, pressing her palms together and whispering what seemed like a prayer, then turned away and left the way she came, her shoulders hunched.

We turned back to the two, and I caught the words 'only a few days' and 'I love you' come out of the girl's mouth, looking at her lover earnestly and hopefully. He seemed stunned for a moment, then grinned and nodded, repeating her words and taking her hand. At this, she seemed extremely overwhelmed, and without warning, abandoned all inhibitions and threw her arms around his neck, knocking him over as she kissed him. He laughed against her lips and pulled her closer.

It was strange, I noticed, how happy the two seemed, but in the air I felt a strong tinge of regret and pain. A sudden premonition arose in front of me, and suddenly, though I knew it was the past, I wished more than anything that I could change what I felt was coming.

I could feel the wave of stars tugging at me again, and I took Amu's hand, whispering, "I think it's time to go."

She nodded, and we stepped away, before we were enveloped in light, and then darkness once more.

We stood in a low, dimly lit hall, candlelight flickering against the tatami mats and paneling. In front of us was a sliding door, in front of which the plainly dressed servant woman from before stood wringing her hands. Not a sound could be heard from the room itself, even as from around the halls shuffling noises slipped through the walls. From the backlit glow of the panels, it was clear that it was day. In the distance, the soft chirp of birds and the quiet sway of the forest sang their noontime song.

The woman sighed sadly, rapping her knuckles on the screen in a tired sort of way, as if she had done so often before and did not expect to receive an answer at all. And as it happened there was no answer, not a voice or a sound from the room, almost as if there was no one there at all. The woman rubbed her eyes tiredly, quietly asking whomever hid behind the door to 'please come out', mentioning that it had been several days since she had seen the world. A pause, and it seemed that the person, a feminine shadow, had pressed against the door, listening in silence.

The woman shook her head and called out that this girl must know that it was impossible, that she could not do what she asked of her, and it would be shameful union. The shadow still stayed, somehow insistent in nature. There was a long silence, and within it I felt the strange urge to help this girl, the girl whom I knew it could only be, who loved one whom she had but the barest thread of a chance to be with. Amu clutched my hand tighter, and I knew she was praying for that bare thread as well.

Another woman appeared, one who I recognized from the first trip to the violet well. Her face was fearful and filled with regret as she spoke in a quick, frightened voice, telling of the Daimyo Asano Zembei's demand that he see his daughter's ladies to ask of her mysterious illness that no doctor could cure. She called the woman 'O Matsu'.

O Matsu nodded and followed the girl away, glancing back at the sliding screen. The delicate shadow had slipped away and was gone. Shaking her head in a pitying way, she glided away, and we followed her, through the rooms, making not a sound on the mats as we passed through room after room to the chambers of 'Daimyo Asano Zembei'.

Within, a man with greying hair and a tired face beckoned them closer. The room was plain, very simple, and the air held a careworn touch to it, as if this man had seen so much in all the years of his life and wished only to rest. The women bowed and knelt at his feet before straightening.

The man spoke, asking with a sad expression of his daughter's condition. O Matsu murmured that nothing had changed since that fifth day after the visit to the violet well. A pause, then O Matsu added in a hesitant tone, saying that her mistress suffered from an affliction of the heart, for she loved the one who had saved her and could love no other.

The man was silent. Then, in an important voice, he asked who this saviour was. O Matsu replied, haltingly and reluctantly, that he was Doctor Yoshizawa, mumbling that he was only of the eta, but insisted in a stronger tone that he was handsome, courtly, a man like that of the highest samurai, and that her mistress could love no other.

For a long time, Daimyo Asano was quiet, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow. Then he spoke, telling the women in a stern voice that though he had not consented to the marriage, he would pretend to make inquiries. He fisted his hands, murmuring that he knew this marriage could never take place, but in the days it would take to make an inquiry, perhaps his daughter would be healed enough to accept this. O Matsu lifted her head suddenly, her eyes watery and filled with hope, and she bowed deep and low before the two were motioned out.

The Road of Stars began to glow, and Amu murmured, "Time to go."

Stars so bright they blinded me, and then darkness.

We stood in Daimyo Asano's room once more. Late evening light burned red through the tatami screens, crickets chirped in the distance, the air hummed with after-dinner noise. The girl sat kneeled in front of her father, her face expectant. Beside him, a beautiful woman bedecked in finery who could only be her mother. The girl's companions sat behind her, heads bowed.

Daimyo Asano began, speaking in a comforting tone, acknowledging her lover. At this, the girl stiffened, as if now expectant of an answer, yet stayed silent. Her father continued, stating that he had made inquiries of him, but led on that he could not accept the union between the two, not with a family so low as Yoshizawa. His tone grew firm; he could not let them be wed, and that there could be no more talk of this.

For an eternity, the girl was silent. I bit back my words, my anger and my urge to yell at him, to see what he had done to his daughter, how he had trapped her as if in a cage. Her shoulders shook, and with a head still bowed, she gave a tiny nod, and her father, unaware of the tears I could see now dripping down her nose, gave her leave.

With that, the girl stood, hiding her face with her hair, and bowed. She was gone without a backwards glance. We followed her out the door, and with a glance at Amu, I saw the desire in her eyes that wished to comfort her, to do something, anything, but we knew that as head of the family, Daimyo Asano's decision was final.

The girl passed through the hall alone, head still lowered, shoulders bent as if she had been broken. And perhaps she was. As we trailed behind her like ghosts, O Matsu appeared. Her expression was that of hope, of earnest belief, and she gently inquired after her mistress.

The young girl stopped. She was quiet, and then she lifted her head. Her eyes were so broken, as if she had been shattered. There was nothing but pain in her face. O Matsu's eyes widened and she froze, transfixed by the pain, before the girl swept away, and once more we dissolved in glittering white and infinite darkness.

It was midnight now, as we found ourselves once more at the river. The azaleas, the sakura and the sumire, all still in full bloom, raising their scent into the deep night sky that twinkled with its millions of tiny points of light. As before, the wind danced through the trees, rustling the woods in a musical way that caused glossed leaves to shimmer and loose petals to cascade across the skies to join the stars as masters of the heavens. The moon was full tonight, luminous and tranquil, a melancholy and nostalgic beauty that shone its peaceful light on the darkened earth. The river glistened, burbling a quiet song.

The girl sat on the edge of the violet well, dressed in a long, pure white kimono with a shimmering, faintly dusted pattern that suggested tiny sumire. Her face was hidden by her hair, which was loose and flying awry in the blowing wind. She wore no obi, and her kimono had ripped and loosened, its hem torn as if she had run thousands of miles to escape the demons on her heels. Indeed, she wore no shoes, her tiny feet dirty and bruised. She seemed so shrunken, as if she had been crushed into a tiny space. Had I not known otherwise, she could have been a twelve-year-old girl.

For a moment, the wind lifted her silken dark locks from her face to reveal pain, a torture so horrible I could feel it swell in the air. Her heart was utterly, completely shattered, to the point that the tears flooding down her cheeks and the sobs that crashed from her raw throat as she covered her face were not enough, that her trembling shoulders that bore the weight of unmentionable sadness could not describe the utter agony that writhed in her chest.

I could feel tears sliding quietly down my own face, and I could not look away. Amu's grips tightened to breaking point; I could hear the quiet, muffled noises of sadness slipping from Amu's voice, and I knew that this girl, this young woman whose heart layed crushed into a thousand pieces would never find solace for the empty years that stood ahead of her.

The girl lifted her face to the skies, eyes fixed upon the moon in her anguish, as if silently pleading. The moonlight seemed to caress her red cheeks, her swollen, bloodshot eyes that could not truly see the beauty of the world any longer, comforting her in its quiet beauty. The girl bowed her head once more, still crying, glittering tears falling to the ground, as she stood atop the violet well, lifting her head, a graceful crane that swayed atop a mountainous perch.

Then she let herself fall.

A gasp of shock erupted from our throats, and we leapt forward as she fell, throwing out a hand to pull her back up, to save her, but we could not touch her, could not hold her frail little fingers, and she tumbled down, like a rag doll, her body lifeless and her face still caught in that terrible agony, her broken eyes that desired the love she could never have. A distant splash, and she sunk into the depths of the water, never to be seen again. There was the last, fleeting image of large, dark eyes, before they were swallowed up by blackness.

She was gone.

Amu stifled a cry, covering her mouth. I held her then, tears pouring down my cheeks as they had never done before, this pain that this girl had felt, and now she was gone, forever suspended in her solitary pain, and we could never bring her back.

"O Shinge. That was her name, wasn't it?" Amu sobbed. "The Ghost of the Violet Well."

It was a myth, an old folktale of a lord's daughter who was saved by a young doctor from a venomous snake. The two fell in love at first sight, and four days after the event, O Shinge fell mysteriously ill, sick from the ache in her heart. After her servant O Matsu had informed the lord of the truth behind her illness, the Daimyo Asano and his wife rejected the union, but planned on telling their girl they would make inquiries, hoping that after the time it took to make them, O Shinge would accept the refusal easily. But after the ten days they pretended to make inquiries, they informed her of their decision, and O Shinge wept bitterly in her room. The next morning, she was nowhere to be found, and three days later, they found her body in the well. She had drowned herself.

"It wasn't a myth." I held her tighter. "O Shinge is the Demon of Hearts."

The Road of Stars glimmered, a beacon of pure light that seemed empty in this tragedy. We were lifted, borne away into this heavenly river of light, eyes stll fixed upon the violet well as the violets scattered around it bent to the lonely breeze, and we were pulled into the blackness of night.

Over a hundred years ago, a man bedecked in a black mourning kimono stood in front of the violet well. His eyes were filled with agony, with pain and pure sadness, hot tears spilling down his hollow cheeks from his reddened eyes, dripping to the ground like crystals. He fell to his knees at the well, clutching at the worn stones, broken sobs pouring from his throat as he lamented the loss of the woman he loved more than the world itself. His shoulders shook, his back was bowed, an unimaginable anguish.

It was that day, of the funeral for his lost beloved, that Yoshizawa drowned himself in the violet well.

The five Seiyo Academy Guardians stood crouched in the shadows, watching intently as the strange scene before them unfolded. They had been waiting, for the past thirty minutes, for something to happen, still unnoticed as they stood back in their hiding spot behind the large wooden crates pushed back against the edges of the roof.

One by one, each being in the demon's army turned their heads up to the sky, as if waiting, waiting for something to happen. But the Dream Thief did not move, the army did not attack. They stood and they waited. And eventually the Lock and Key allies turned their heads to the sky as well, expectant, wondering what on Earth was happening.

"What do we do?" Makoto asked. "They're just standing there. Should we attack?"

"No." Ryu shook his head. "We don't know what's happening. Maybe something is going on. We won't do any good by just bursting in. What would we do then?"

"We can't transform with the Lock or the Key anyways," Ami added, her thoughts obviously turned towards her sister.

Mai growled quietly. "It's tense to stand here waiting around. I feel like I'm missing out on something important, and if I don't see what it is , now, I'll miss some big chance."

Hikaru's brow furrowed. "I don't like this," He said in his soft, monotone way, his voice cautious. "There's a bad feeling in the air. I feel as if it would be foolish to attack, but my employees..." He spoke the word 'employee' with a hint of fatherly worry.

It was then, as the five were voicing their aggravation with the current situation, that overhead, the sign they had been waiting for arrived. The last sliver of the moon, still fighting back the bay of darkness, was veiled behind a wall of cloud, and there was darkness.

Immediately the demon rose, shooting straight up with its back arched as it stared at the dark sky, its skull-like face empty. With an ear-splitting screech, violent energy, exactly like that of an X-Egg, erupted in a beam of dark light, rippling across the roof , knocking back every being. The Guardians cried out and threw up their hands in pitiful defense, but the demonic energy did not quite reach them, fading just so right before them.

The five leapt forward as the beam of power enveloping the demon expanded. There were screams then, before each and every being collapsed. The Guardians moved as if to come forward, but they could not; it was as if there was a force field surrounding them. Each were suddenly reminded of Tsukasa's words, and the promise they had made. It was then that they knew they could not cross the barrier.

A flash of movement, and Rima lifted her head, meeting eyes with Ami. Her golden orbs screamed at her to go, a final order. And so Ami turned away with the rest as Rima drooped, moving no more. They left.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on a hard concrete floor, my knees stinging with impact. The two of us leapt to our feet, taking in our surroundings, tensing, ready to be attacked. The anguished expression of O Shinge still burned in my mind, haunting me.

Nothing.

The hall was empty. Gigantic claw marks scratched the floor and the walls, the beams that supported the ceiling. Broken metal pipes lay scattered everywhere. Puddles of water pooled beneath a scorchmarked slab of concrete, and broken chains dangled from the ceiling. Not a soul remained in the room.

"They're gone!" Ran cried. I blinked, and remembered that she and Yoru and Amu's other guardian characters had been with us the whole time. For the time we had spent, it felt as if Amu and I had been alone with O Shinge.

"Where is everybody?" Amu wondered aloud, drying the tears from her face. "How long have we been gone?"

I inspected the scorchmark, dipping my fingertips in the water and flicking the tiny globes at the mark. They sizzled against the concrete. "Not long. Where could they have gone?"

"They're all still here," Amu murmured. "I can feel it."

Dia spoke. "It makes sense. O Shinge became a spirit, was corrupted with the pain of a broken heart. She grew twisted with her anger and her pain, and became what she is now: a demon that steals Heart's Eggs."

"That makes sense," Miki agreed. "Because in a way, isn't an X-Egg kind of like a broken heart, for your dreams? You've been hurt very badly, because the dreams you hold in your heart are made to seem hopeless or unrealistic. So O Shinge, who dreamed of marrying and spending her life with the one she loved more than anything else, must have—"

"She must have broken her egg." Ran finished, and Miki nodded, her eyes wide. "And that pain of broken dream, mixed with that of a broken heart..."

"So she drowned herself~desu," Su whimpered, wiping away her tears.

"That's so horrible," Yoru mumbled. "That must've been painful~nya..."

"So as a spirit with a broken heart and broken dreams, she wouldn't... move on," Dia said softly. "She would stay here, stuck and filled with anger for those who hurt her and regret for the life she could have lived. She became a vengeful spirit, burning out who she used to be and replacing it with all her revenge."

"Like if you got a leg wound, and it got infected, or it didn't heal right," Ran murmured. "And you let that leg wound take over everything, so it was ruled over everything you did and it changed you."

"And so you became just a shell of what you used to be, filled with hatred and malice and vengeance."

With those miserable words, a loud crash and a thump pierced the air, and we whirled around in time to see the Guardians, panting and sweating heavily, arriving at the bottom of the staircase.

"Ami!" Amu rushed forward and hugged her sister, who smiled weakly in exhaustion. "What happened? What's going on?"

"They've been captured," Hikaru said quietly. "We were all captured when you disappeared. We were brought to the rooftop for some reason, and then we managed to escape. The others are still up there."

I bit back a curse. Amu bit her lip and told them, "You guys need to get out of here. We can take care of it now. Find a way out, and do not get caught."

"But—"

"Go!"

They looked at one another, then nodded. Ami hugged her sister one last time, and then the five kids sprinted off. Amu and I turned back to the staircase. A glance at each other, and then we were off, up the staircase to where the fate of our friends lay.