::mercuryblue_22@hotmail.com::
Authors Notes: This is a The Crow/Sailor Moon crossover, but don't
let that fool you. None of the characters of either "The Crow", or
"The Crow: City of Angels" appear in this fic. It's strickly a Sailor
Moon "What If?" story, starring none other than my two favorite
characters, Amy and Raye. It's kinda sad in some parts, and gross in
others, with romance thrown in. A little something for everyone...
"The Crow: Sacred Flame" was written on basis of an idea the *just
wouldn't go away*. And, well, those are the sort of ideas that lead
to something interesting. It's rated PG-13, getting close to R, for
heavy violence, swearing, sexual ennuendo, sexual assault, and various
other naughties. So, little kiddies, turn back now!!! And if you
don't, don't come crying to me if you get in trouble for reading this!
I will not take responsibility if you are easily offended. Consider
yourself warned.
The Crow was created by James O'Barr, and Sailor Moon by Naoko
Takeuchi. I do not own them! Except for the characters of Dave Green,
Gabriel, Needles, Pockets, Snake, Moose, and Kiro- they're mine. ALL
MINE!!!! *evil laughter*.
Oh yeah, and I'm using Dub names. Sue me, but I LIKE the Dub. If it
weren't for the dubs, I would have never become such an insatiable
moonie. 'Nuff said. Now, for the story!!!
This story is dedicated to the love of *my* life, Jarrod.
-------------
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead mean naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Through they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
"And Death Shall Have No Dominion"
Dylan Thomas
-------------
The Crow: Sacred Flame
Part One
By Mercury Blue
-------------
I remember it sometimes, in bits and pieces, coming to me like parts of
a long-lost dream. It doesn't seem real- I can't bring myself to
believe that it all happened. I prefer to think of it as a dark fairy-
tale, a Gothic nightmare ill-conceived by a delusional mind. But it
did happen. The events of those two nights will forever echo in my
mind, sharp as knives. The events that would change my life, and the
lives of those around me. The night *she* came back.
Some say, when you die, a crow guides your spirit to the other realm.
They say love is stronger than death and if the spirit carries a
sadness sometimes, just sometimes, the Crow can bring the soul back to
put the wrong things right.
Those people are correct, yet , they couldn't fathom what I've been
through; what I've seen. What happened on the night of April
seventeenth is something like I've never seen before, even after all
I've been through with the scouts. The anniversary of an event colder
and more horrible than any created by a youma, or devil.
I can remember it now...
* * *
Police lights flashed, and sirens howled. The static-y sound of
radios crackled and popped out requests for the address of the crime
scene, demands for back-up. A chubby cop barked out orders for a
coroner, the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand rapidly cooling in
the biting chill of the spring wind. Ambulances pulled up, wailing
for attention like a screaming child. Tokyo was lit up as if
celebrating a grim festival of death in tribute of the victims.
Amy ran up to a police officer, her blue-black hair forming a halo
around her worried face. Tears streaked down her red cheeks.
"Please," she begged, "They're my friends! Please, what happened? I
a call-" The officer interrupted her.
"I'm not allowed to divulge that information, Miss." He jotted a few
notes onto a pad of paper, and spoke into a hand-held radio he
clutched in his clammy palm. "Location, Cherry Hill Shrine, Tokyo.
Get here fast." Amy grabbed his arm, and shook it, "Please, officer,
they're friends of mine! I was told to come here..." tears streamed
down her face, and he looked down at her, feeling sympathetic. "All
right." He gestured towards a tall man in a black trenchcoat,
speaking to two ambulance attendants, his face a mask of
professionalism. "That's Detective Green. Talk to him."
Amy thanked him, pulling her blue windbreaker tighter around herself
against the persistent chill of the wind. She nearly ran towards the
detective, panic contorting her pretty features. He stopped talking
to the attendants, and looked at down at her. "Can I help you?" Amy
shuddered. She knew something was terribly, terribly wrong with her
friends, and it terrified her.
"I received a call," she said, her voice shaky, "From one of your
men. They told me to come here right away, that they found my number
in Raye's room." She pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"What's this about? Are they okay? Please, tell me something." She
was getting impatient, frustrated. "Please,". Detective Green
nodded, his dark green eyes penetrating her with a deep seriousness,
and she knew suddenly what he was going to say.
"You're Amy Mizuno, right?" A nod. She was shaking, and she realized
it wasn't the cold- it was fear. "I need you to come with me. We've
found three bodies- we need you to identify them." The world spun
around her, lights became blurred. Amy fell to her knees, shaking.
She knew- somehow, she knew it was something like this. Oh gods,
why-
"Miss Mizuno? Miss Mizuno, please." Sounds went in one ear, and out
the other, tears rolled down her face. She was nearly hysterical.
Perfect, level-headed Amy was hysterical. Her body shook with sobs.
It couldn't be...
She looked up, and he was there, crouched beside her, his black hair
tangling as the breeze attacked it. "Miss Mizuno, I know this is
hard," he said, his voice gentle all of a sudden, "But we need your
help, here. We need to catch who did this, and bring them to justice.
Please, help us." The tears slipped past her lips, salty and wet.
She nodded. Sickness overwhelmed her. One minute, she was laying in
bed in her apartment, lazily going over math equations in her head as
she tried to sleep, and the next, here she was. Being asked to ID the
bodies of her friends, who were dead. Dead.
~Maybe it isn't them,~ her brain asked. It was going at a hundred
miles an hour, she could barely keep up for once. ~Maybe they're
making a mistake...~. The rational side of her chided herself,
laughed at her. No, no mistake. They never make mistakes. Tears
poured out of her blue eyes.
"All right," she whispered, forcing herself to her feet. "I'll go
with you." She hadn't quite regained her equilibrium, and almost
crumbled to the ground again. Detective Green held onto her,
catching her by the waist. He kept his arm around her shoulders to
keep her standing. He nodded.
"Good. Thank you, Amy." He began to lead her towards his car. A
black Toyota Supra- not a normal police car. "I know this is hard."
She forced a glance behind her, still crying. The world was blurry
to her moist eyes, but not so blurry she didn't see the black bag on
the stretcher, being put into the ambulance. A body.
~But whose was it?~ She wondered. ~Why won't they show it to me now?
Do they want to clean them up first? Is it that bad?~. Questions
raced through her mind, turning up unanswered. Zombie-like, she kept
walking, sitting in the passenger seat of the car as the door was
opened for her. Her eyes traveled to the shrine through the window,
to the flashing lights, to the police. She was in shock. The
rational part of her mind told her this. That was why she was so
cold, that was why nothing made sense. She didn't care. Being in
shock was better than being dead.
Dead. Like them. Oh, gods.
* * *
One Year Later
* * *
Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal, it's so unfair.
And it feels,
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels,
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away.
Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary's
Can't bring back what's taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would
And it feels,
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it stings,
Yeah it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you've gone away.
"Gone Away"
The Offspring
Amy sighed and placed the last of three roses she'd brought on Raye's
grave. That night would be the anniversary of the murders. One
year since Amy's worst nightmare had been realized. The day would
have also been Raye's nineteenth birthday.
Slowly she stood up, her eyes misty, and glanced at the gravestones,
reading the too-familiar names on the them. *Chad Kumada. A shooting
star, gone too fast. May his brightness be remembered. 1979-2001.*
Chad. He and Raye had only just started a relationship, much to their
delight. They'd been so happy, Amy recalled. So in love. He'd
confided to her the week earlier he'd planned on asking Raye to marry
him. He'd shown her the ring, and everything. A small diamond,
delicate, and perfect. He wanted it to be entirely from him, without
any of his parents money, and it was beautiful. Raye would have loved
it, if he'd ever had the chance to give it to her. Amy wondered idly
where the ring was now.
Her gaze drifted to the stone on the far right.
*Shinji Hayashi. Grandfather, and Friend. May the Kami be with him.*
Raye's grandfather. A kind, noble old man. His stone was a little
more ornate, a little bigger. The man had been a respected part of
the community. Amy missed him.
Her blue eyes rested on the final stone, shiny marble.
*Raye Hino. Beloved Friend, and Daughter. 1983-2001.*
The tears that had welled up in her eyes flowed freely now. Even
after a year, the feelings of grief were still strong in her. Ever
since that night, her life had never been the same.
With a sigh, she turned back towards the shrine. Their ashes had been
buried by the river, across from the shrine, courtesy of Raye's
estranged father. *Beloved Friend and Daughter*? He hadn't been
there for her most of her life, when he'd taken off for his career in
politics. He was nothing more than an absentee landlord, and Amy hated
the man.
Walking down the cement steps in front of the shrine, she waved at
Kiro, the new caretaker, assigned by the Raye's father himself. Kiro
was a nice man, forty-eight and stocky, with wide brown eyes. Amy had
quickly befriended him and in return, he allowed her to visit
whenever she wanted, to see the graves of her lost friends. She came
every day, without fail. Sometimes, she would spend the night in
Raye's old room, among the possessions she had forbidden anyone to
move. Kiro didn't mind. He lived in Grandpa's old room, and was
content to stay there. Chad and Raye's rooms hadn't been touched by
him in the ten months he'd lived there. Amy was glad. Those two
rooms had become her favorite places in the world.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she walked towards Serena's house, where
the remaining scouts were supposed to meet.
* * *
"You've been there again.". Serena made the observation as Amy sat
down next to her at the short table in Serena's bedroom. "I can see
it on your face,".
"So what if I have," she rebutted. They didn't understand. Not one.
They had grieved in their own ways, but all had recovered. Amy blamed
them. How could they be so cold? Their friend was dead.
"It's not healthy," said Lita softly. She shifted slightly, and
pulled out a bag of home-baked cookies, dumping them onto an awaiting
plate on the table. "She been gone a year."
"The anniversary's tonight," Amy whispered, looking down at the table.
"She would have been nineteen." They didn't care. Why would they?
They didn't see the bodies. They didn't *know*.
Mina piped up from where she lay sprawled comfortably across Serena's
bed. "We all know that, Amy. But the past is past, and we can't
change that." She yawned, half asleep in her cozy position. Amy
didn't reply. She wanted the meeting to be over with. She wanted to
get back to the shrine. Finally she spoke, her voice small. "I
found out more about the killers," she said. "It seems the murder was
organized, part of a pseudo-Christian cult that feels all other
religions are evil. Being Shinto, Raye would have-"
"That's enough, Amy! Can't you just let her rest in peace?"
Serena's voice was loud, louder than she'd intended. Tears sprung to
her eyes. "We all miss Raye and Chad, too. But this *isn't* going
to bring her back. This... this *quest* you're on won't help anyone!
You're just drudging up old memories!. She lowered her voice, a
crystalline tear sliding gracefully down her cheek. "We all know how
hard it was for you to be there, to see the bodies, the crime scene,
everything. But how many times to we have to have this argument?
Amy, just because she's dead doesn't mean we shouldn't get to
*live*." Mina stood up from her spot on the bed, and placed a hand
on her shoulder comfortingly. Amy just glared at them, trying not to
cry.
"You have no idea how hard it was for me. You weren't *there*. You
didn't see the fear frozen on her face, even in death. She didn't
even have time to transform! She was shot, point-blank, right
between the eyes!" Amy's voice had risen to the point of screaming,
and tears poured down her face. "Don't even pretend to know grief
until you've gone to the morgue to identify the bodies of the people
close to you!" All of them were crying now, Lita gazing sadly at
the spot on the floor Raye would have occupied.
"Amy-" she began. Amy sobbed.
"I've got to go." Grabbing her bag, she ran out of the door.
* * *
The sun was finally starting to set behind the clouds, turning the
sky an angry shade of purple as the remaining light glinted off of
the looming storm clouds. A drop of rain fell and hit Amy on the
nose, tickling her. Soon, another drop. And another. It started to
rain harder, soaking Amy. She didn't care. The rain suited the
bleakness she felt in her soul. She would have been nineteen today. It
was all she could think of.
"Hey, Cutie. Need a ride?" Amy recognized the voice, and turned,
smiling as a familiar black Toyota pulled up next to her. Detective
Green.
"Dave! Hey!" Amy smiled, glad to see a friendly face after the day
she'd had. Rivulets of rain trickled down her throat and hair. "How
are you?".
"I'm good, I'm good." Dave smiled, his green eyes lighting up. "Of
course, I'd feel a lot better if you weren't out there, soaking wet.
As much as the sight of you dripping with rain appeals to me, it can't
be healthy. Come on, get in the car."
Amy obliged, getting in and shutting the door behind her. Ever since
that night a year ago, Dave had taken care of her, her 'guardian
angel'. Sometimes she felt he was the only one who understood what
she'd been through. Either way, the twenty-nine year old detective
was the best friend she had.
* * *
It was black as pitch in the place she awoke. And it was wet. Very
wet. Rain poured in never-ending torrents over her, chilling her to
her very tones. Above her, two crows sat in a Cherry Tree, crying
their mournful call.
Where was she? This was the single thought that raced through her mind
as she looked around her. ~How did I get here?~. Sounds of the river
drew her attentions, and she looked behind her, trying to find the
location of the flowing water.
She saw it.
Behind her, upright and unyielding like a grim sentinel, a tombstone
rose from the earth. To her sides, two more. She was laying on a
grave.
Jolting upright, she gazed upon the tombstone closest to her, the one
of polished marble. She read the lettering in the dim light, running
her fingers over the etched symbols.
*Raye Hino. Beloved Friend, and Daughter. 1983-2001*.
A low scream rose in her throat as she read this, her eyes filling with
horror. As fast as she could, she scrambled away from the grave, her
eyes never leaving the lettering.
~Oh no, ohno, ono....~ She did scream now, a low guttural scream that
rose from deep in her belly. Soaking wet, she screamed, and screamed.
Shaken, and cold, she stood up, the white dress she was wearing muddy
and stuck to her. There had to be an explanation, she thought. She
just needed to come up with it. Hesitatingly, she read the other two
stones. Grandpa. Oh, Grandpa. And Chad.
Raye fell to her knees, sobbing. Her hair hung, tangled around her
shoulders as she wept, cold and wet. Above her, the two crows cawed,
and she recognized them as hers, Phobos and Deimos. Her guardians.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at them intently as the
rain poured over her.
-------------
Well, there it is, part one. Questions, comments, flames- they can all
be sent to me at mercuryblue_22@hotmail.com . Although, you won't get
anywhere with flames... I'll just laugh at them.
Authors Notes: This is a The Crow/Sailor Moon crossover, but don't
let that fool you. None of the characters of either "The Crow", or
"The Crow: City of Angels" appear in this fic. It's strickly a Sailor
Moon "What If?" story, starring none other than my two favorite
characters, Amy and Raye. It's kinda sad in some parts, and gross in
others, with romance thrown in. A little something for everyone...
"The Crow: Sacred Flame" was written on basis of an idea the *just
wouldn't go away*. And, well, those are the sort of ideas that lead
to something interesting. It's rated PG-13, getting close to R, for
heavy violence, swearing, sexual ennuendo, sexual assault, and various
other naughties. So, little kiddies, turn back now!!! And if you
don't, don't come crying to me if you get in trouble for reading this!
I will not take responsibility if you are easily offended. Consider
yourself warned.
The Crow was created by James O'Barr, and Sailor Moon by Naoko
Takeuchi. I do not own them! Except for the characters of Dave Green,
Gabriel, Needles, Pockets, Snake, Moose, and Kiro- they're mine. ALL
MINE!!!! *evil laughter*.
Oh yeah, and I'm using Dub names. Sue me, but I LIKE the Dub. If it
weren't for the dubs, I would have never become such an insatiable
moonie. 'Nuff said. Now, for the story!!!
This story is dedicated to the love of *my* life, Jarrod.
-------------
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead mean naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Through they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
"And Death Shall Have No Dominion"
Dylan Thomas
-------------
The Crow: Sacred Flame
Part One
By Mercury Blue
-------------
I remember it sometimes, in bits and pieces, coming to me like parts of
a long-lost dream. It doesn't seem real- I can't bring myself to
believe that it all happened. I prefer to think of it as a dark fairy-
tale, a Gothic nightmare ill-conceived by a delusional mind. But it
did happen. The events of those two nights will forever echo in my
mind, sharp as knives. The events that would change my life, and the
lives of those around me. The night *she* came back.
Some say, when you die, a crow guides your spirit to the other realm.
They say love is stronger than death and if the spirit carries a
sadness sometimes, just sometimes, the Crow can bring the soul back to
put the wrong things right.
Those people are correct, yet , they couldn't fathom what I've been
through; what I've seen. What happened on the night of April
seventeenth is something like I've never seen before, even after all
I've been through with the scouts. The anniversary of an event colder
and more horrible than any created by a youma, or devil.
I can remember it now...
* * *
Police lights flashed, and sirens howled. The static-y sound of
radios crackled and popped out requests for the address of the crime
scene, demands for back-up. A chubby cop barked out orders for a
coroner, the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand rapidly cooling in
the biting chill of the spring wind. Ambulances pulled up, wailing
for attention like a screaming child. Tokyo was lit up as if
celebrating a grim festival of death in tribute of the victims.
Amy ran up to a police officer, her blue-black hair forming a halo
around her worried face. Tears streaked down her red cheeks.
"Please," she begged, "They're my friends! Please, what happened? I
a call-" The officer interrupted her.
"I'm not allowed to divulge that information, Miss." He jotted a few
notes onto a pad of paper, and spoke into a hand-held radio he
clutched in his clammy palm. "Location, Cherry Hill Shrine, Tokyo.
Get here fast." Amy grabbed his arm, and shook it, "Please, officer,
they're friends of mine! I was told to come here..." tears streamed
down her face, and he looked down at her, feeling sympathetic. "All
right." He gestured towards a tall man in a black trenchcoat,
speaking to two ambulance attendants, his face a mask of
professionalism. "That's Detective Green. Talk to him."
Amy thanked him, pulling her blue windbreaker tighter around herself
against the persistent chill of the wind. She nearly ran towards the
detective, panic contorting her pretty features. He stopped talking
to the attendants, and looked at down at her. "Can I help you?" Amy
shuddered. She knew something was terribly, terribly wrong with her
friends, and it terrified her.
"I received a call," she said, her voice shaky, "From one of your
men. They told me to come here right away, that they found my number
in Raye's room." She pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"What's this about? Are they okay? Please, tell me something." She
was getting impatient, frustrated. "Please,". Detective Green
nodded, his dark green eyes penetrating her with a deep seriousness,
and she knew suddenly what he was going to say.
"You're Amy Mizuno, right?" A nod. She was shaking, and she realized
it wasn't the cold- it was fear. "I need you to come with me. We've
found three bodies- we need you to identify them." The world spun
around her, lights became blurred. Amy fell to her knees, shaking.
She knew- somehow, she knew it was something like this. Oh gods,
why-
"Miss Mizuno? Miss Mizuno, please." Sounds went in one ear, and out
the other, tears rolled down her face. She was nearly hysterical.
Perfect, level-headed Amy was hysterical. Her body shook with sobs.
It couldn't be...
She looked up, and he was there, crouched beside her, his black hair
tangling as the breeze attacked it. "Miss Mizuno, I know this is
hard," he said, his voice gentle all of a sudden, "But we need your
help, here. We need to catch who did this, and bring them to justice.
Please, help us." The tears slipped past her lips, salty and wet.
She nodded. Sickness overwhelmed her. One minute, she was laying in
bed in her apartment, lazily going over math equations in her head as
she tried to sleep, and the next, here she was. Being asked to ID the
bodies of her friends, who were dead. Dead.
~Maybe it isn't them,~ her brain asked. It was going at a hundred
miles an hour, she could barely keep up for once. ~Maybe they're
making a mistake...~. The rational side of her chided herself,
laughed at her. No, no mistake. They never make mistakes. Tears
poured out of her blue eyes.
"All right," she whispered, forcing herself to her feet. "I'll go
with you." She hadn't quite regained her equilibrium, and almost
crumbled to the ground again. Detective Green held onto her,
catching her by the waist. He kept his arm around her shoulders to
keep her standing. He nodded.
"Good. Thank you, Amy." He began to lead her towards his car. A
black Toyota Supra- not a normal police car. "I know this is hard."
She forced a glance behind her, still crying. The world was blurry
to her moist eyes, but not so blurry she didn't see the black bag on
the stretcher, being put into the ambulance. A body.
~But whose was it?~ She wondered. ~Why won't they show it to me now?
Do they want to clean them up first? Is it that bad?~. Questions
raced through her mind, turning up unanswered. Zombie-like, she kept
walking, sitting in the passenger seat of the car as the door was
opened for her. Her eyes traveled to the shrine through the window,
to the flashing lights, to the police. She was in shock. The
rational part of her mind told her this. That was why she was so
cold, that was why nothing made sense. She didn't care. Being in
shock was better than being dead.
Dead. Like them. Oh, gods.
* * *
One Year Later
* * *
Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal, it's so unfair.
And it feels,
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels,
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away.
Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Mary's
Can't bring back what's taken from me
I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would
And it feels,
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it stings,
Yeah it stings now
The world is so cold
Now that you've gone away.
"Gone Away"
The Offspring
Amy sighed and placed the last of three roses she'd brought on Raye's
grave. That night would be the anniversary of the murders. One
year since Amy's worst nightmare had been realized. The day would
have also been Raye's nineteenth birthday.
Slowly she stood up, her eyes misty, and glanced at the gravestones,
reading the too-familiar names on the them. *Chad Kumada. A shooting
star, gone too fast. May his brightness be remembered. 1979-2001.*
Chad. He and Raye had only just started a relationship, much to their
delight. They'd been so happy, Amy recalled. So in love. He'd
confided to her the week earlier he'd planned on asking Raye to marry
him. He'd shown her the ring, and everything. A small diamond,
delicate, and perfect. He wanted it to be entirely from him, without
any of his parents money, and it was beautiful. Raye would have loved
it, if he'd ever had the chance to give it to her. Amy wondered idly
where the ring was now.
Her gaze drifted to the stone on the far right.
*Shinji Hayashi. Grandfather, and Friend. May the Kami be with him.*
Raye's grandfather. A kind, noble old man. His stone was a little
more ornate, a little bigger. The man had been a respected part of
the community. Amy missed him.
Her blue eyes rested on the final stone, shiny marble.
*Raye Hino. Beloved Friend, and Daughter. 1983-2001.*
The tears that had welled up in her eyes flowed freely now. Even
after a year, the feelings of grief were still strong in her. Ever
since that night, her life had never been the same.
With a sigh, she turned back towards the shrine. Their ashes had been
buried by the river, across from the shrine, courtesy of Raye's
estranged father. *Beloved Friend and Daughter*? He hadn't been
there for her most of her life, when he'd taken off for his career in
politics. He was nothing more than an absentee landlord, and Amy hated
the man.
Walking down the cement steps in front of the shrine, she waved at
Kiro, the new caretaker, assigned by the Raye's father himself. Kiro
was a nice man, forty-eight and stocky, with wide brown eyes. Amy had
quickly befriended him and in return, he allowed her to visit
whenever she wanted, to see the graves of her lost friends. She came
every day, without fail. Sometimes, she would spend the night in
Raye's old room, among the possessions she had forbidden anyone to
move. Kiro didn't mind. He lived in Grandpa's old room, and was
content to stay there. Chad and Raye's rooms hadn't been touched by
him in the ten months he'd lived there. Amy was glad. Those two
rooms had become her favorite places in the world.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she walked towards Serena's house, where
the remaining scouts were supposed to meet.
* * *
"You've been there again.". Serena made the observation as Amy sat
down next to her at the short table in Serena's bedroom. "I can see
it on your face,".
"So what if I have," she rebutted. They didn't understand. Not one.
They had grieved in their own ways, but all had recovered. Amy blamed
them. How could they be so cold? Their friend was dead.
"It's not healthy," said Lita softly. She shifted slightly, and
pulled out a bag of home-baked cookies, dumping them onto an awaiting
plate on the table. "She been gone a year."
"The anniversary's tonight," Amy whispered, looking down at the table.
"She would have been nineteen." They didn't care. Why would they?
They didn't see the bodies. They didn't *know*.
Mina piped up from where she lay sprawled comfortably across Serena's
bed. "We all know that, Amy. But the past is past, and we can't
change that." She yawned, half asleep in her cozy position. Amy
didn't reply. She wanted the meeting to be over with. She wanted to
get back to the shrine. Finally she spoke, her voice small. "I
found out more about the killers," she said. "It seems the murder was
organized, part of a pseudo-Christian cult that feels all other
religions are evil. Being Shinto, Raye would have-"
"That's enough, Amy! Can't you just let her rest in peace?"
Serena's voice was loud, louder than she'd intended. Tears sprung to
her eyes. "We all miss Raye and Chad, too. But this *isn't* going
to bring her back. This... this *quest* you're on won't help anyone!
You're just drudging up old memories!. She lowered her voice, a
crystalline tear sliding gracefully down her cheek. "We all know how
hard it was for you to be there, to see the bodies, the crime scene,
everything. But how many times to we have to have this argument?
Amy, just because she's dead doesn't mean we shouldn't get to
*live*." Mina stood up from her spot on the bed, and placed a hand
on her shoulder comfortingly. Amy just glared at them, trying not to
cry.
"You have no idea how hard it was for me. You weren't *there*. You
didn't see the fear frozen on her face, even in death. She didn't
even have time to transform! She was shot, point-blank, right
between the eyes!" Amy's voice had risen to the point of screaming,
and tears poured down her face. "Don't even pretend to know grief
until you've gone to the morgue to identify the bodies of the people
close to you!" All of them were crying now, Lita gazing sadly at
the spot on the floor Raye would have occupied.
"Amy-" she began. Amy sobbed.
"I've got to go." Grabbing her bag, she ran out of the door.
* * *
The sun was finally starting to set behind the clouds, turning the
sky an angry shade of purple as the remaining light glinted off of
the looming storm clouds. A drop of rain fell and hit Amy on the
nose, tickling her. Soon, another drop. And another. It started to
rain harder, soaking Amy. She didn't care. The rain suited the
bleakness she felt in her soul. She would have been nineteen today. It
was all she could think of.
"Hey, Cutie. Need a ride?" Amy recognized the voice, and turned,
smiling as a familiar black Toyota pulled up next to her. Detective
Green.
"Dave! Hey!" Amy smiled, glad to see a friendly face after the day
she'd had. Rivulets of rain trickled down her throat and hair. "How
are you?".
"I'm good, I'm good." Dave smiled, his green eyes lighting up. "Of
course, I'd feel a lot better if you weren't out there, soaking wet.
As much as the sight of you dripping with rain appeals to me, it can't
be healthy. Come on, get in the car."
Amy obliged, getting in and shutting the door behind her. Ever since
that night a year ago, Dave had taken care of her, her 'guardian
angel'. Sometimes she felt he was the only one who understood what
she'd been through. Either way, the twenty-nine year old detective
was the best friend she had.
* * *
It was black as pitch in the place she awoke. And it was wet. Very
wet. Rain poured in never-ending torrents over her, chilling her to
her very tones. Above her, two crows sat in a Cherry Tree, crying
their mournful call.
Where was she? This was the single thought that raced through her mind
as she looked around her. ~How did I get here?~. Sounds of the river
drew her attentions, and she looked behind her, trying to find the
location of the flowing water.
She saw it.
Behind her, upright and unyielding like a grim sentinel, a tombstone
rose from the earth. To her sides, two more. She was laying on a
grave.
Jolting upright, she gazed upon the tombstone closest to her, the one
of polished marble. She read the lettering in the dim light, running
her fingers over the etched symbols.
*Raye Hino. Beloved Friend, and Daughter. 1983-2001*.
A low scream rose in her throat as she read this, her eyes filling with
horror. As fast as she could, she scrambled away from the grave, her
eyes never leaving the lettering.
~Oh no, ohno, ono....~ She did scream now, a low guttural scream that
rose from deep in her belly. Soaking wet, she screamed, and screamed.
Shaken, and cold, she stood up, the white dress she was wearing muddy
and stuck to her. There had to be an explanation, she thought. She
just needed to come up with it. Hesitatingly, she read the other two
stones. Grandpa. Oh, Grandpa. And Chad.
Raye fell to her knees, sobbing. Her hair hung, tangled around her
shoulders as she wept, cold and wet. Above her, the two crows cawed,
and she recognized them as hers, Phobos and Deimos. Her guardians.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at them intently as the
rain poured over her.
-------------
Well, there it is, part one. Questions, comments, flames- they can all
be sent to me at mercuryblue_22@hotmail.com . Although, you won't get
anywhere with flames... I'll just laugh at them.