Zero Phoenix

Chapter 2: It's Just a Scratch

By: Zero Phoenix

He had done what he came to do. Now, there was only one minor detail left. The night had taken an unanticipated turn for the worst, but it was almost over. Automatic sliding doors parted before him as he stepped out into the clear night air. His transportation was waiting, silently beckoning him to hurry.

Hold on you two... I'm coming...

The minute he was outside, his dream of an uneventful ride home was shattered. The sky split open with one thunderous crack and unleashed all the fury of the heavens.

Could this night possibly get any worse?

Sukanami Taka rushed to his vehicle, inadvertently forgetting about the keyless entry until he was fumbling with his key chain. By the time he got the door open his shirt was soaked and water streamed from his hair into his eyes and face.

"As if my life isn't complicated enough..." Taka sighed as he leaned back in the black leather seat. Torrents of rain coursed down the windows as lightning flashed, illuminating the deserted parking lot of the supermarket. It was late enough that every other upstanding Japanese citizen was home in bed, asleep.

Taka turned the ignition and the noise of the engine roared to life, competing with the constant patter of rain. It had certainly turned out to be a dismal night. He watched and waited for a moment, hoping that the rain would let up.

I don't have time to be sitting here...But I guess it's now or never...

With a dramatic sigh, Taka started pushing down the clutch and he would have put the car in gear if he hadn't suddenly remembered something important he had forgotten to do. He took his feet off the pedals and reached into the plastic bag sitting in the passenger seat. Rummaging around, he finally found the small sheet of paper he was searching for.

"Let's see..." Taka turned on the dome lights, peering intently at the receipt. His calculator was in his hand before he even remembered pulling it out of his back pocket. "Take the difference in price..." He tapped away contentedly on the numeric pad. "Compared to the distance and the cost of gas..." A slow smile widened across his face as he completed his calculation. "Ha! I knew it! I saved almost a full 15% shopping here! Miaka will be thrilled!" Taka threw back his head and laughed, holding up his calculator and the receipt triumphantly.

Oh wait...

Taka regained his composure, casually running his hands back through his dark hair to keep his bangs from dripping more water into his face.

I forget. I'm the one who cares about the money. Miaka's not going to care one way or another... unless, of course, I stall any longer... then she'll be worried.

"Why's it always have to be raining at a time like this...?" Perhaps if anyone else had been in the vehicle, he would have gotten an answer though he was not really expecting one to his rhetorical question. The radio broadcasted an emergency weather report and then switched to commercials. It seemed that even the high-tech weather prediction methods available to Japan were not enough to predict every change accurately. The forecast for the day had been totally incorrect.

If I had known it was going to rain like this, I wouldn't have come. Miaka knows I don't like driving when it's dark and rainy.

Taka gritted his teeth as he clicked his seat belt into place. As he put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot he discovered just how horrendously poor the visibility was. He could barely see ten feet in front of the hood. He switched his lights from low to high and then back again when he realized the high beams afforded even less visibility. The wind picked up in intensity and howled against the car angrily, throwing what Taka could only describe as buckets of water against the windshield.

Buckets... The Gods are dumping buckets of water on me... It has to be Seiryuu. Suzaku would never do such a cruel thing to his favorite seishi.

Taka almost laughed as the inane thought popped into his head. It was a strange mental image made even stranger by the fact that it had been quite some time since he had thought about either Seiryuu or Suzaku. Normal life had a habit of getting in the way of his memories of his heroic past life. Some things were always close to the surface of his consciousness, but fond recollections and daydreaming had their appropriate place and time.

And this is neither the right place nor the right time...

His windshield wipers made no headway against the onslaught. For his own safety he slowed down but remembering his time constraints, he resumed his previous speed.

I have to get home as soon as possible.

His two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Hikari, was sick. Miaka demanded the best children's medicines. What was a young father to do?

Drive to the store with the cheapest prices, of course.

He would not disappoint Miaka or leave Hikari without relief, but there was no reason to completely lose his head about financial matters.

I'm not Tetsuya... I don't have the money to blow on convenience. Thoughts of his friend brought his mind back to the situation at hand. The vehicle he was driving almost recklessly through the dead of night during the worst rainstorm of the season belonged to Tetsuya. Taka did not own a car. He refused to spend such a large sum of money on one thing that was not completely necessary. The subway, train, and bus systems of Japan were more than sufficient for daily transportation.

I wouldn't have even gotten my driver's license if Miaka hadn't insisted it would make life easier.

Having a license and buying a vehicle were two separate matters entirely. He had broken down and acquiesced to his wife about the license but until they had money to spare, he would never buy a vehicle. One month earlier, Tetsuya had offered to lend him one of his many cars and that had started Taka down a road of difficulties. Miaka had accepted the offer where Taka had politely declined.

And now... here I am...Driving Tetsuya's brand new Lexus in such a terrible storm. If I wreck it, he'll kill me... If I don't get home soon, Miaka will kill me...Hikari has a fever, I'm tired and wet, and the only thing I hate more than driving at night is driving on rainy nights! How is this making my life easier?

"Hey Suzaku!" Taka jokingly turned his eyes toward the heavens. "How about a little help here? Ya know, for old-time's sake?"

An ominous flash of lightening was his only reply.

* * *

I've finally lost it...

The thought popped into his head, a single clear, coherent idea that gave him some mental anchor to grasp as the foreign memories and thoughts poured into his head. He had catapulted from the third floor window, hoping to get away from the disturbance in his head but even the sharp slap of pavement against his feet was not enough to clear away the fog.

The street was eclipsed by a rocky mountain path as Genrou sprinted away from the library. It was both familiar and not, like a remembered dream or a daydream. Streetlamps flickered in and out of his bucolic trail, making him nervous and skittish. There was something not quite right...

Kouji could help.

The thought wasn't his and that was both frightening and relieving. The voice in his head knew Kouji...knew the man that had been orphaned and raised by the bandits of Mount Reikaku. Or had he been orphaned and raised someone else..? It was becoming so damned…difficult to think. He needed to slow down. Badly. But…

No matter how hard he tried to stop them, the images and feelings and voices flooded his consciousness. He thought it was his own voice but it couldn't be. Nothing he said made sense, nothing he felt made sense. The rapid sequences of memories flashing in front of his mind's eye were his memories, but the part of his mind that was still coherent told him they couldn't possibly be.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the images would not fade. He screamed, but the sound of his voice could not reach his ears.

He wanted to be alone but he was also afraid to be. If he was going mad…if he was really losing it, Genrou wanted it to be with someone who could stop him, someone whom he could trust.

Gah, where's Chiri when you fuckin' need 'im?

That thought was the most disturbing of them all. If he was in trouble, Chichiri should be here. They had traveled Konan for years now protecting people and generally doing whatever Taiitsukun asked them to. If Chichiri wasn't here for him…

I'm in deep shit…

"Who the fuck is Chichiri?" Genrou whispered brokenly as he dodged a demon – no, a SUV. His head was going to explode from the assault of these unreal recollections. If only he could find Chi…Kouji. He needed to find his friend and…

Kouji was up on Mount Reikaku, leading the tribe. What good would he be? He had to run faster, to get away from this plague.

He sped up. Racing through the darkness, he saw the bright light of Suzaku speeding toward him. He put all his energy into his speed, focusing on one thing to try and cancel out the rest. He could feel his legs pumping beneath him like a dream; giving him a tenuous grasp on what he thought was reality. He couldn't be sure, but it didn't matter one way or another.

The light of destiny was speeding toward him.

* * *

"Can't you take a joke?" Taka drove nervously, swallowing the lump in his throat. His irreverent plea to Suzaku had him feeling like a foolish little boy who was about to be punished.

Sometimes I forget how intricately connected my life is to the higher powers...my destiny is entwined with a God. In anyone else's mind, the thought might have been prideful, but to Taka, it was a simple fact. How could he possibly deny how much his life had been shaped by forces that defied comprehension? Too many strange and wonderful things had happened in his 24 years of life for him to ever doubt how indivisible his connection was to divine influences. Heck, he'd even saved the world once or twice using his divine influence. Not to mention his casual acquaintance with the creator of the universe. He'd never asked for it, but he could hardly ignore it and never wanted to take it for granted.

I should be more careful...

The words were half-formed in his mind when a powerful voice seemed to emanate from the depths of his soul.

Yes, you should.

And then all hell broke loose.

* * *

It was amazing how quickly everything came to a screeching halt.

One minute he had been fighting for his sanity and the next he found himself laying peacefully on the pavement, staring up at the night sky.

Strange... It's raining but there's hardly any clouds...I sure as hell don't spend much time lookin' at the sky, but the stars... are kinda pretty... I guess...

"What the fuck am I doin'?" Genrou blinked as he finally noticed the rain assaulting his eyes. He raised a hand to ward away the unwanted moisture before everything slammed back into perspective. His right arm not only resisted the motion but it sent him a wave of agony for his efforts. Once the pain and the subsequent stream of obscenities had subsided the young thief decided to appraise the situation rationally.

"Where the hell am I? What the fuck am I doin' here!? What the hell happened to me!? And why can't I remember shit!?"

It was gone, all of it.

Whatever had been messing with his head had left him without the slightest recollection of recent events. He was vaguely aware that something had indeed been seriously wrong with his mental processing capabilities, but he couldn't remember any of the details. And he certainly couldn't remember how he had ended up lying on his back in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm losin' my fuckin' mind..."

His mind was one thing he had no problem chalking up as a loss, but his physical state was another matter entirely. He was no stranger to conflict and subconsciously he knew his right arm had mysteriously been broken.

But that makes no sense! I sure as hell don't remember gettin' in a fight 'r anythin'...and besides, there's no fuckin' way I woulda lost even if I had!

He had every right to be confident. He hadn't lost a fight since he was fifteen. There had to be a logical explanation for everything. And if there were answers to be had, one man would have them.

"Kouji?"

Instinct, and the feeling of the radio in his ear, told Genrou that answers were on their way.

He waited patiently for two seconds before trying again. "Kouji?" His friend was strangely silent. "Kouji? This is Genrou." He paused hopefully. "Answer me already, dammit! You can talk to yourself for as long as you want if you just say somethin'. Kouji!" It had to be a joke. It was unnaturally cruel, but it still fit with his best friend's style.

Goddamned sadist, who needs 'im? I can take care of myself.

Genrou went to sit up but quickly decided against it. Pain receptors in his body seemed to have been taking the day off and it wasn't until he made the slightest effort that they decided to send their important message:

Hey Genrou, yer fucked.

"Argh!!" He splashed his uninjured arm into the giant mud puddle that had become his new home. Beating his frustrations and pain out on the uncaring pavement only worked for a few moments before his fresh bruises started complaining. Every swear word, curse, and oath he'd ever heard flew from his lips. He even made up a few new ones that seemed to fit the occasion perfectly.

Kouji would have been proud. If the fucker had the decency to show up, that was. In the condition he was in, Genrou certainly wasn't going to go looking for him. In fact, he might just lie here in this puddle for the rest of his life.

I'm tired…I hurt…I sure as hell don't want to get up…but I gotta make my getaway…in a few…minutes.

Closing his eyes seemed like an acceptable option and Genrou took it. The nagging voice in his head insisted that he not sleep…with a concussion…it was dangerous. But he scoffed at danger on a daily basis and the chance to nap, even here in a mud puddle, was too good to ignore.

So if he didn't hear the footsteps until the owner was right next to his head…who could blame him? Opening his eyes was painful and focusing them…damned near impossible. But he managed to make out a figure kneeling at his side, hesitant hands hovering over Genrou's poor, battered body.

"M'okay." He mumbled but his Good Samaritan apparently didn't hear.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry. I can't believe…I've don't drive well…it was raining and my daughter…let me help you out of this mud…"

His rescuer was apparently his mauler but finding out that a car hit him was a great relief.

Least I didn't lose a fight…

The man was hauled him to his feet and carried him to the vehicle that had taken a piece out of his hide. It was nice…a BMW…but that fuzzy, tired feeling was coming back and he closed his eyes…

"Gotta call an ambulance…and the cops…Tetsuya is going to kill me…"

Cops…no! Gotta wake up..!

The sounds of a cell phone dialing was incentive enough for the young bandit to snap to wakefulness. He was a foreigner…with an illegal agenda…no cops.

Genrou slapped the phone out of the man's surprised hands viciously. Panic was giving him strength. He couldn't get caught! He was the best damned member of the gang…he would NOT get caught…

"No cops…no hospital…" He gritted out. Using the bumper as a leverage point, Genrou pulled himself to his feet. There was only one way he was getting out of this…with style.

The knife appeared in his hand with the comfort of practiced ease. Bruised, battered, or bleeding, he was more than capable of looking fierce and dangerous. When the man backed up uncertainly, the bandit actually felt his strength return because of his own audacity.

"I'm not goin' to the hospital and you aren't callin' the cops. I'm takin' yer car and drivin' away…got it?" He was threatening. He was mean. He intimidated all his opponents…except this one.

Anyone who drove a car like that should be wetting themselves from fear of him…yet this man looked distinctly pissed off. He had the eyes of someone who knew how to fight…and would.

Fuck…any other day, a little resistance would have been fun. But I just wanna get the fuck outta here…

"You aren't taking the car," the man said with false calm. "It doesn't belong to me and I can't let you strand me here when my sick daughter needs her medicine. I'll drop you off wherever you want to go…but you aren't stealing this car."

The man's arrogance pissed Genrou off past reason. He swiped at the man, his response a violent expression of his frustration. This might be the worst day of his life…and he was going to let his opponent find that out up close and personal.

A kick to his hand sent Genrou's knife flying. It stung but the pain was minor compared to the agony racing through him from the various wounds he had…because of this man…this stupid…careless…sonuvabitch…

I wasn't gonna hurt him too much but I'm all pissed off now…the gloves come off.

With a speed that surprised the man, Genrou threw a roundhouse punch that caught his foe under the chin and snapped his head back.

Yeah…hurt didn't it ya asshole…

The man wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth but did not move into a defensive stance. "My name is Sukunami Taka," he said, "and this is your last chance to give up."

This guy's got balls…but he doesn't know who he's dealing with…

The statement wasn't even worth a spoken reply. Instead, Genrou let loose a vicious roundhouse kick at Taka's head. It was one of the basic moves that he used to test out the strength of his foes but…

Maybe his injuries hampered him more than he thought… Or maybe he had a little brain damage…but Taka ducked under his kick swifter than Genrou could compensate for and nailed him with two sharp punches to his cracked ribs.

I've only landed one hit…c'mon Genrou, get it together…

He threw a wild punch that Taka contorted his body to make a glancing blow as he came at Genrou. The young thief didn't have time to react as Taka wrenched his abused, broken arm behind his back and locked his own arm around his throat.

I'm fucked…totally screwed. I…gotta…get outa…here…

His vision was getting spotty again and his air was short but Genrou still had a trick up his sleeve. The full face mask gave the illusion that his head was bigger than it was. If he could spin around to face Taka…he could slip free…

As his shoulder broke, Genrou gained enough leverage to face his opponent and pull free. Dizzy with pain, his last clear vision was of Taka's astounded expression as he pulled free of his mask. Then…blessed darkness…

***

Taka stood over the inert form of his opponent and gasped for air. He was in the poorest physical condition he'd ever been in and the effort it took to defeat one heavily injured man was proof.

Dripping wet, he approached the sprawled figure. The urge to kick the engimatic masked man in the head was almost too much for him to resist but he called up restraint, if only just barely.

"Let's see who you are there…"

Taka didn't hesitate to turn the unconscious body and remove the last shred of mystery from his downed opponent.

"My God…" he breathed. "It…can't be…"

TBC…