Nijuusei

Chapter 1: Two Separate Worlds

By Kaen

A chilling wind coursed through the darkened and desolate streets of New York City. The season's proper characteristics were finally catching up. The few trees had already turned golden and crimson and were now starting to lose their leaves. Winter had taken longer than normal to arrive, but few were complaining. Winters on the Northeast coast were always frigid, and undoubtedly the least popular season of the residents. Especially when those residents doubted that they would live through the winter…

Shivering as the breeze carried away body heat from his exposed chest, the boy sighed. He needed to get to some place warmer… Grimacing, he pushed himself away from the garbage cans he had been leaning back on as he slowly rose to his feet. Pausing a moment to stretch, he noticed how dark it had become. He honestly didn't care. He had no place to be. Dropping his arms from their raised position, he tightened the thin over shirt around him and began to walk with absolutely no destination in mind. He had never belonged anywhere, and never planned to. Well, he had to admit that it sounded nice to have a place to live, a home. He sighed longingly, wishing that the word didn't sound so foreign.

Rubbing his arms violently while trying to spark some warmth into them, the youth spotted a gathering of four or five men under a flickering street lamp. Trying not to be interested but failing miserably, he cautiously approached the sight. Peering around one of the larger men's shoulders, the seventeen-year-old's dark eyes narrowed in anger.

The lowlifes were picking on a petite blonde girl, who couldn't have been more than fifteen or so. She was in obvious distress, attempting to break free of the men who surrounded her, but to no avail.

"Those bastards," the boy growled under his breath, his fists clenching in rage. With no second thought, he roughly grabbed the shoulder of the main tormentor and forced him to turn around. The man looked surprised at first, but his facial expression quickly changed to a scowl. After a moment of glaring silently at each other, the sleezeball was the first to speak.

"And what do you want, ya lil' brat?" Asked the man irritably.

"Leave her alone." Stated the boy plainly. As an afterthought, he added, "I don't want to have to kill anyone today."

Smirking at the taller man, he almost dared him to try something. The other man sneered, and swung his fist at the teen's face.

And missed miserably. The teen had ducked, but then realized that he most likely didn't have to do that. The guy would of missed anyway…

He's drunk…  At the apprehension of this fact the teen's smirk grew to a wicked grin. It was always so entertaining to fight an idiot. After a minute of fooling around, the teen finally got tired of playing and knocked out the staggering drunkard. Staring idly at his unconscious enemy, the boy let out a short laugh of victory.

Realizing with a start that the poor girl was probably scared he immediately rushed over to her and kneeled down to the crouching level that she was in. She was looking down so he couldn't see her face, but he could tell that she was crying by the way her body shook. Biting his lip the boy couldn't dismiss the feelings of familiarity lingering at the back of his mind, taunting but not revealing themselves… Shaking his head he blinked to clear his vision and tried to talk to the girl.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, not wanting to frighten the girl more. After his question, the girl seemed to abruptly stop all movements. Slowly lifting her head from its nestling place in her arms, she stared with wide and shimmering aqua eyes. Biting her lip to keep silent, the girl continued to stare at her rescuer. Tears threatened to spill over the brim again when she asked something softly.

"Su… boshi?"

The teen stared at the girl, not quite understanding what she was asking. Was "Suboshi" the name of a person? She must be mistaking him for someone else. He sighed. That poor girl, all alone and confused…

"I'm sorry. I'm not this 'Suboshi' guy you're looking for…" He couldn't help but feel guilty at his response, even if he was being totally honest. For some reason, it just hurt him to deny this pretty girl…

"Oh… I'm really very sorry..." she said, looking back down again as her golden locks obscured her beautiful face. The lights flickered again as he took a step towards her and stared intently, trying to read the emotions on her face. She sighed heavily and was about to say something, but stopped short and gasped. Not wasting any time the girl quickly reached over to the boy and pushed him out of the way.

Surprise flashed across his face, but he soon realized what she had just done for him. One of the man's gang members whom he had beaten up just a minute ago had finally gathered up the nerve to do something about his boss's defeat. The large man had tried to attack him with a switchblade, but that girl had saved him.

Instant worry registered in his mind as he glanced back to the brave girl. She was crouching down, trying to retain her balance. He noticed the rip in her shirtsleeve, but it didn't appear the bastard had done any other harm.

But the thought of just the torn clothing of this girl set him off.

In just a few seconds that man was accompanying his boss in La-La Land. The rest of the gang attempted to escape but the fiery-tempered teen didn't allow that. He felt so endeared to this girl, and he couldn't figure out why for the life of him.

Breathing heavily and observing his "carnage" the teen turned away and went back to the girl. She seemed a little… surprised, but happy enough that he had won. That girl happy made him blush a little, but their eyes soon made contact. He couldn't break it, nor did he want to, but…

Looking away quickly the pretty girl sheepishly said, "Thank you…"

To be honest, it sounded like she didn't know what to say more than anything else. He might have just saved her from being mugged or worse…

Feeling equally as speechless, he mumbled, "You're welcome…"

Out of nervous habit the boy crossed his left arm over his body, his hand resting on his right forearm.

"Ouch!" He cried, quickly removing the hand. Looking down, he noticed a steady stream of blood flowing down his arm from a wound hidden somewhere underneath the sticky liquid. Hell, I didn't even notice when that happened…Making a noise in the back of his throat, he clamped his hand back over the wound with the hopes that the girl (who was about his age, he noticed) didn't see it.

Too late, though.

She was already at his side, instructing him to remove his hand so she could see the cut better. Once again, he couldn't refuse her and complied. Sitting down, he watched her carefully as she kneeled and took her white sweatshirt jacket off and pressed it down to the wound.

"Just hold it there for a minute or so… " She instructed quietly. He nodded in agreement, feeling once again guilty about dirtying her jacket. Both feeling rather uncomfortable at the silence between them, the girl introduced herself.

"I'm Yui. Hongo Yui. Thank you very much for helping me back there… You remind me of someone I used to know, but he… passed away…" Trailing off, she quickly changed the subject. For how much blood he was losing right now, it was not a good time to talk about death.

"So, what's your name?" She asked him, inquiringly. He froze at that question, and remained silent. "Don't you have a name?" she wondered allowed, wrinkling her brow.

"I… um… I'm… Kokuei." He said, unsurely. To be honest, he didn't have a name, but he liked the sound of that name. "I don't really have a name, you see…" he said, trying to explain. She didn't press him to explain, even though she was rather curious. Yui instead brought a finger up to his lips, silencing his stutters.

"Don't worry, Kokuei. You don't have to tell me." An obvious expression of relief fell across his face and he smiled at her. She found herself smiling back, but soon looked down. Removing the sweatshirt from the wound, she gasped as her eyes widened. It appeared as thought the blood was being washed away by imperceptible water.

"Um…." Yui pointed down to Kokuei wounds, where he observed it as well.

"I dunno." He shrugged and tried to brush it off. Weird stuff like that actually happened a lot to him, but she didn't need to know that. It seemed as though every time he got hurt there was always someone there to tend to him. Soon he'd be all healed and he couldn't help but be a little creeped out…

Yui stopped gawking at the blood being washed away and immediately took the opportunity to reach into her backpack and pull out the bacteria disinfectant and some long white bandages. He stared at her choice of traveling "companions" and she giggled at his look.

"I'm in a pre-med class. That's where I was going before I got… distracted." He grinned with understanding, and was relieved to find that the current situation was a rare occurrence.

While reflecting on this girl, Kokuei barely noticed when she closed up her box and stated that she was done. Blinking to regain his concentration, he stood up and lent his hand to help her up. She took it without hesitation, but he didn't let go when she stood. She looked at their still connected hands, blushing. Gradually, she raised her head to look up into his warm blue eyes.

"Thank you," he stated simply, still not sure about what to do. She blushed deeply at his apparent lack of words and looked away as she nodded.

"I… uh… need to get to my class. You see, I'm probably already late, so I really need to go." She looked up again and pulled her hand from Kokuei. Seeing the disappointed look on his face she giggled again.

"I promise I'll check on you tomorrow, okay? That wound was pretty nasty, and I don't want it to get infected." Just like that, she had gone from a giggling schoolgirl to a professional future doctor. He laughed, and whole-heartedly agreed.

"Same place, then? No, that won't work… How about by the building where you take your class?" He seemed to be arguing with himself, but soon came to a conclusion.

"It's the Pre-Med building on the college campus. Do you think that you can get there?" She realized that he probably didn't have all that great of means transportation, but he had asked and she answered honestly. He thought for a second or two, and soon responded very enthusiastically.

"Sure! I'm sure I can. I don't exactly have other plans." He laughed softly at this.

"Tomorrow then, Miss Yui?" he inquired, innocently. She grinned and nodded. Yui then turned her back to her new friend and took off, trying to get to her class before she was too terribly late.

Kokuei watched her retreating back and whispered softly, "Good bye, my Yui-sama."  When he could no longer see the girl, he began walking in opposite direction. The streetlight that they had been conversing under finally died, leaving nothing but a cold and dark night in the ever-noisy city. Kokuei paid no heed to the sudden darkness and kept walking, his form soon lost in the shadows.

*******************************

"Itai!"

Hiashi flinched and let out a small cry as he felt a deep cut take shape on his forearm. Glancing down at the sharp pain he saw the first trickles of blood beginning to gush. Promptly pulling down his sleeve, he excused himself from the dinner table, ignoring the concerned looks he was receiving from his mother and father. Racing up the steps he couldn't help but reflect on all the strange events that had been happening to him for as long as he could remember, if not longer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ever since he was little, he had always been getting strange marks and bruises all over his body. Hiashi wasn't a rough child and had never done anything to agitate anyone, but quite often he would awake bleeding or with a bruised limb. He had attempted to hide it from his parents, not wanting to make them worry, but they had found out when he had collapsed in front of them, blood and bruises appearing all over his body.

It was probably pretty dramatic, he thought to himself acrimoniously, It's surely not everyday that your son passes out and gets the crap beaten out of him by some unseen force.

Of course, his parents had taken him to the hospital and attempted to explain what had happened to the skeptical physicians. They obviously hadn't believed his parents, and even went so far as to accuse them of child abuse. He laughed softly at that thought.

Hiashi's parents were probably two of the most loving people Hiashi had ever met. They actually were not his real parents, but they had adopted him at a very young age. About three or four or so, he'd been told. They'd always been there for him and, unlike most adopted children, he referred to them as "Mother" and "Father." They had raised Hiashi, and he saw no reason why he shouldn't regard them as his respected guardians. As his parents were so caring, they had not hesitated a second in finding their son psychological help. He knew he didn't need it, but they had insisted. Not ever wanting to be the type of person to disappoint the people he loved, Hiashi had agreed.

Being submissive and sweet, an eight-year-old Hiashi had suffered through an entire hour of obnoxious questionings and unnerving staring. His mother and father had patiently waited along with him, and were terribly anxious to find out what was happening to their precious child. It never ceased to amaze him how much his parents loved him, but what the shrink told them amazed him even more. The know-it-all man had said that he was depressed, whether Hiashi acted like it or not, and insisted that it was his overpowering subconscious that made him hurt his body without realizing it. A rare case, to say the least, and Hiashi hadn't believed a word of it.

Unfortunately, his mother and father had. And as another misfortune, the deceitful shrink had confirmed to the authorities that his parents were abusing him. This had all spiraled into a sickening chain of events that included numerous court cases, unbelievably high lawyers' bills, and a nearly broken home. After he himself had testified at the age of eight, his parents were finally released from trial but this was not the end of their troubles.

Not even close.

It had taken nearly four years to regain the comfortable home that was there before the incident, and even now Hiashi felt that he had to maintain a careful act as to not to upset the ones he loved…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hiashi cringed again as the water cleaned out the wound. It had stung, and he fought the urge to cry out. Adjusting to the cool water, he finally relaxed. The wound was fairly deep, but it probably wouldn't leave a scar. The last thing he needed was more scars, especially after all his episodes with a phantom attacker. Tearing his eyes way from gushing wound, Hiashi caught a quick glimpse of his own reflection in the ornate mirror. Studying himself as if it were the first time that he'd seen his reflection, his eyes traveled over his own visage slowly.

Hiashi had large midnight blue eyes with thick black lashes surrounding them. He had always liked his eyes, not to sound self-centered or anything, but he had never met anyone else with that same color and he considered them one of his unique aspects. Slightly obscuring his eyes was his light brown hair, which looked almost green in the sunlight, as strange as that may sound. His skin was lightly tanned, something that was not uncommon in the warm California weather, but it was by no means a poor quality. He had never really felt uncomfortable with his appearance, unlike most teens, but sometimes had a problem with his personal identity. Dismissing the thought from his mind, Hiashi focused back on the injury to his right arm.

Or rather, the area where the injury was…

He gasped, shutting off the crystal water faucet. Holding up his right arm, Hiashi noticed that the cut was not gone, but instead was sealed together tightly as if it had been bound up by an invisible bandage, making it practically unnoticeable.

Shuddering at the thought of his rapid "healing," Hiashi turned from the bathroom. Before leaving and turning out the light, Hiashi caught one last look at himself in the mirror. For the shortest, shortest moment he could of sworn that he saw not one, but two of him reflecting back…

What in the…?

Stopping in his tracks, he took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face the mirror again. He turned on the light and studied his reflection again.

Only one this time. Good. Hiashi didn't want to think he was going crazy…

Hiashi turned out the light again and headed down the wide, curved stairway. Making his way through the marble-floored main hall and fancy parlor, Hiashi finally entered the dining room and sat back down at the dinner table, purposely ignoring the questioning glances from his concerned parents. Picking up his fork, he poked plaintively at the food remaining on his plate, no longer with any desire to eat.

Hiashi remained silent the rest of the night.

So, what do you think? I hope it's not too bad! Seven pages was a lot of effort for me. I'm having so much fun with this fic…  I hope you can guess where the plot line is going and if you can't, well, it just goes to show that I need practice. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! I'll love you forever!! If you have any ideas for the plot, please let me know because I'd love to hear your suggestions. Ja ne! ^^

-Kaen