Lost and Found

Lost and Found

By: rainjewel

Author's Note: I own nothing, just the plot. Um, this is my latest stab at writing. This is not going to go along with the Escaflowne timeline, so if you don't gel with that, I'm sorry!! I apologize that Hitomi is way out of character, but I'm kind of sick and tired of her being so helpless and goody-goody. I also like making my girl characters cynical bitches. Hitomi's in-between good and cynical. I hope you likeys!! Please, PLEASE send me some reviews at esca_rain@hotmail.com! It really makes my day!! Thankies!!

ß Indicates Flashbacks

Italicized words indicate thoughts

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Hitomi

I'd never tell anyone this, but I hate visions. I hate them with a passion. They're always so excruciatingly painful. Whenever I have one, it feels as if all my appendages are being ripped from my body like stitches from a seam. They always leave me feeling so weak and helpless.

I hate feeling that way.

I want to be strong now, strong in this new world. I mostly want to be strong for my new friends—especially Van. He has to be strong for too many people. I want to be strong for him.

I suppose that's why this last vision hit me so hard.

It was awful. One minute I was running down the halls of the Vione, this strange flying rock, trying to rescue Van, and the next I was on the ground, hunched over like a baby. All I could see in my mind's eye was Van, his bronze body lying on the ground in a pool of blood. A young, translucently beautiful man was standing over him, chuckling madly. I ran to his side, screaming his name at the top of my lungs. Slowly I turned over his body, but it wasn't his body anymore. It was…no, it couldn't have been him.

Now I'm laying on my side, almost to weak to sit up. Slowly I breathe out and squint my eyes hard, trying to banish the image of from my mind. The awful burning of those watery gray eyes. Shakily I rise to my feet, using all my waning strength to heave myself off the cold floor. With trembling hands I brush the dust from my uniform out of habit. I look down the darkened tunnel. I wish I had Merle here. Unfortunately I left her behind after jumping that huge gap in this weird, levitating rock.

Clink.

Oh god, that sounds like a sword. Instinctively I wrap my arms around my sides, searching for some comfort. Frantically I look into the shadows and back against the cold steel walls. There's nothing there. Quickly I drop my arms. I have to be strong now. With short, quick breaths I walk towards the sound. Why am I doing this? You don't walk towards the danger! You walk towards danger, you die. You've seen the movies girl!

Black, grisly smoke claws at my face as I emerge from the tunnel. I smother my initial reaction to cough. I take a few more steps forward, but freeze as I see movement in the shadows. Quiet, maniacal giggling pierces the darkness. Slowly the starry-haired young man from my vision comes into view, a sword clutched tightly in his crimson hand. I can recall meeting him before, but I can't remember his name.

Quickly I follow his line of sight. A figure stands there in beige pants and a red shirt. Van. His back is turned, looking up into the catwalks of the fortress at the retreating figure of a tall, pale man who disappears into the shadows.

The insane giggling of the red armored man suddenly stops. I look back to him. As if in slow motion, he begins to run at his quarry.

"Van!" I call out, "Behind you!"

Van turns, just in time to see his enemy. He brings up his sheathed sword and barely blocks the other man's sword. Both stand inches apart, their eyes locked in a hateful gaze while they battle each other's strength. They break separate and Van quickly unsheathes his sword. Heatedly they battle back and forth, screaming hate at each other's face. I clench my fists to my chest. The armored Zaibach soldier is good.

Infuriated, Van takes a swipe at the pale-faced boy. The albino boy tries to block it, but his sword misses Van's by mere centimeters. The blade slices his right cheek with a sickening sound. A few drops of blood and snippets of ashy hair fall to the ground. I hear my gasp reverberate around the room. The pale boy freezes, and his gloved hand tentatively feels his gashed cheek. He feels the cut and lets out a high-pitched shriek, crumbling to the ground.

"My face, my face," says the red-armored boy. His voice is like a sob.

"Hitomi!" Van calls out, "This way!" He dodges off into the black smoke.

"Right!" I reply. I'm slightly annoyed that he didn't even grant me a hello or a "gee, thank you for saving my life," but I follow anyway. I run past the collapsed boy on the floor, but pause and look back at him. He's trembling slightly and holding his face, staring into nothingness. God he looks hurt.

"I'm sorry," I say, staring at his face. His eyes are the color of wine. How odd. Slowly those wine-colored irises roll towards me. His face lights with alarm.

"Migel! Migel help me!" he screams. He grimaces as the wound stretches with his cry and hot, crimson blood spills to the floor.

Shit! Now I've made him call his men! I turn hastily, almost tripping over my own feet. I lunge into the smoke in the direction that I think Van went. I stop as suddenly as I began running. Standing in front of me are three tunnels. Great. I quickly pull my pendant off my neck and let it dangle from my hand.

"Migel!" The injured warrior's voice rings through the darkness.

Hurry Hitomi, they're coming. I close my eyes and picture Van in all his moody glory. His black hair, his brooding eyes he's standing in his little "I'm-too-cool" manner. Suddenly image turns yet again to brown hair and gray eyes—no! It's not him, I tell myself, he's on your planet! Get a grip Hitomi. I shake my head and picture Van again. I feel the pendant start to swing. I open my eyes and look where it's pointing.

"Well, we have tunnel number three," I say under my breath. I gather my courage and sprint into the darkened corridor.

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