Chapter 1

Hikaru drew in a deep breath and switched on her vintage Carvin amp, setting the reverb and depth high and the volume to blasting. She brushed her small, delicately-boned hand through the long, wispy spikes floating around her head like a halo and tried to ignore the bright stage lights shining into her eyes. *Here goes nothing,* she thought nervously, readjusting the shoulder strap of her true love, a fiery-red Fender American Stratocaster, to fit a little more comfortably. The young guitarist quickly played through a few minor keys to make sure her baby was in tune and gave a 'thumbs up' to the guy standing further to the front of the stage. Everyone called him Rev; Hikaru didn't think anybody knew if he had a real name or not. Rev nodded acknowledgment, his shoulder-length brown hair flowing with the movement, and quickly checked on the others. Jo, the petite blonde drummer, waved one of her bashing sticks (as Jo liked to call them) and grinned happily in anticipation. The bassist, glum Gothic Zach, nodded stoically and waited.

Everything was ready.

Rev smoothly strapped on his weapon of choice, a Gibson Firebird with a hot sunburst design. He flicked the amp on and shoved his pedal forward with his foot. One final check to his bandmates, his signature cocky grin, and he was ready to roll. Hikaru was breathing harder and harder, unable to contain her nerves . . . *I'm going to mess up, then Rev's going to kill me, and I won't be able to ever get into a band again . . .* she babbled frantically to herself as Rev welcomed the crowd that had come to see their virgin performance at the small dive, known (ironically enough) only as the Dive. *Shut up and play Hikaru,* she ordered firmly and twirled her pick agilely between her fingers for luck. Rev was just winding up the spiel . . . "Get yourselves ready for Knights of Chaos!!" he broke into the descending riff of the first song, Hikaru playing counterpoint, with Zach's fingers flashing nimbly through the baseline. Jo, grinning madly and pumped with adrenaline, smashed into the drums like she was impersonating Animal from the Muppets.

End of intro, start the verses. Hikaru switched over without thinking, hours upon hours of practice evident in the effortless transition as she leaned forward toward the microphone and sang with her 'mates . . . .

Ever wake up in the middle of the night Knowing it's out there Waiting for you? Ever run, breathless Searching for the light Finding no one who seems to care about you?

Fight on, friend Fight the pain and carry on Make your mark on the world around you Feel the heat . . . the fight goes on!

A screaming riff blasted from Rev's guitar, his face clenched into a tense grin as he beat through the lick and returned to the mic.

Ever drop wounded onto the ground Crushed to the dirt by the faceless ones? Ever feel the need for a friend to come round Back to back Clashing 'gainst the endless drones?

Fight on, friend Fight the pain and carry on Make your mark on the world around you Feel the heat . . . the fight goes on!

Hikaru's turn. She closed her eyes briefly and launched into a random melodic, a bit different from Rev's angry notes, focusing in on the hope and comradeship she found in the lyrics of the song rather than the angst and rage. Then it was Jo's ear-blasting solo . . . another repeat of the chorus . . . and it was over. Hikaru blinked and wiped the sweat from her face. Her ears were ringing, her body was shivering all over from the music vibes, and was that . . . applause? She looked out into the crowd in astonishment - it wasn't the deafening sound she had imagined in her dreams of this moment, but it was there.

"Wooooooo hooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!" Hikaru jumped as Jo let out a rowdy whoop of joy; the drummer smiled sheepishly at Zach and shrugged unashamedly when Rev turned to look at her with a quirked eyebrow. Zach was his usual stoic self, blending into the background with his black attire, although Hikaru thought she could detect a certain unusual exhilaration shining through in his countenance. She could hardly believe she was here . . . with her friends . . . doing what they loved to do. She felt a joyful smile creeping across her face and waved wildly at Jo in triumph before preparing for the next number, her earlier doubts and fears lost in the endorphins screaming through her bloodstream. But as she looked out into the crowd, she felt something missing . . . she could see no one here with icy blue hair topping a haughty (though kind) expression . . . nor did anyone sport extra-large glasses and an aura of easy friendliness. . . .

Hikaru sighed, automatically backing Rev up on the next song, feeling the drum beat and throbbing bass vibrate in her soul. *Geez, I miss you guys . . . .*

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"Ungh," Hikaru grunted as she shoved the last speaker into the band's beat- up van, Wheeler. She huffed out another breath in relief and shook out her bare arms, her red tank top drenched with the sweat of nerves and exertion. *Holy gods, I can't wait to take a shower . . . .* "Hey Rev!" she called absently while trying to stretch out her aching back and shoulders. "Anything else?"

"No, Hikaru, we're set," Rev's smooth voice answered from inside the Dive. "Just going to get the dinero from Fred and we're out of here."

"OK." Hikaru finished her stretching and checked her watch, pushing the little glow button so she could see the digits. *3 AM,* she thought with a wince. *And Zach and I have to be back here to pass out drinks and haul out drunks by two tomorrow?* She sighed despondently. *I hope Fred is a little understanding if neither of us is exactly up to par . . . although he was the one who suggested this gig. That's what I'll tell him if he says anything,* she decided with a firm nod. Then she smiled. *Like Fred's ever going to be anything but a sweetie. How someone like him ever cooked up a place like this I will never know . . . ."*

Jo bolted out of the building at a run, heading straight for Hikaru with a huge grin plastered on her face. *Uh oh,* Hikaru thought, bracing herself quickly against Wheeler as the blonde torpedo shot toward her. Jo opened her arms wide and crushed her red-haired friend in a huge hug, screaming at the top of her lungs, "WEDIDIT WEDIDIT WEDIDIT WEDIDIT!!!!" Hikaru attempted to breathe in enough to respond, but had to wait for Jo to loosen her grip a little . . . *I guess those kendo lessons I'm giving her are really paying off!* "Jo," she gasped, choking slightly, "Need air . . . ."

"Oops!" Jo backed off hurriedly, her typical, maniacally happy face toned down for the moment. "Sorry 'Karu. It's just that . . .," her blue eyes once again lit with happiness and she was almost trembling with puppy-dog eagerness, "We got PAID!!!!!" Hikaru smiled faintly and crossed her arms, leaning against Wheeler and waiting for it to start. *Here we go: Psycho- Jo, take it away!* The young drummer began jumping excitedly on the pavement, her bouncy fervor restored. "I have MONEY!!!! I can BUY things!!! ME!! MONEY!! YES!!!!!" Hikaru laughed tolerantly; Jo never seemed to be able to calm down very long for anything. *Reminds me of myself when I was her age . . . oh come on, Hikaru, just because Saturday is the big quarter-century B-day doesn't mean that you're an old hag . . . I think Umi said you have to wait till thirty . . . .*

She glanced past the bubbly blonde to the guy just exiting the Dive with a swirl of a black trenchcoat, his dour demeanor a soothing counterpoint to the "all-flowers-all-the-time" girl. Hard to believe they were siblings, she mused as Zach silently paced past his sister (still babbling nonstop about . . . something or other) and placed his bass (an Ibanez SR400) carefully into Wheeler. He slammed the doors shut and looked impassively down at Hikaru from his 6'4 height, long black bangs falling forward into his eyes, and shifted his baby-blues to Jo. He said nothing, though Hikaru was forced to chuckle at his discomfited expression. "Don't worry, Zach," she said soothingly, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "There's no one here; she won't embarrass you this time . . . ."

"Hey!" An unfamiliar, gravel-laden voice called from the head of the back alley where the stage door to the Dive was located. Hikaru smirked at the sudden pain that appeared on Zach's face and strolled to the front of the van. She saw three people - *Really big people,* she thought, her brow furrowing as she took in their immense size - walking her way so she asked curiously, "You fellas need something?"

The figures sauntered closer and closer, unanswering, and Hikaru felt a sudden sense of unease. Still closer . . . then her eyes widened in shock when faces were finally revealed in the dim street lights.

"No," she whispered hoarsely.

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Fuu opened her small mailbox and gasped with joy, an uncommonly wide grin brightening her face like a switched-on bulb. *Hikaru!* she thought ecstatically, her eyes instantly drawn to the American flag stamps her itinerant friend had taken to using since the tragedy on September 11, 2001.

She raced to the elevator and pressed 6, almost jumping with impatience as the elevator car seemed to carry her upwards even more slowly than usual. As soon as the doors opened she ran to her apartment and quickly fumbled through her small purse for her keys, juggling her briefcase and a monster stack of ungraded papers in her hurry to get inside. *I can't believe it's finally here!* she thought happily, finally feeling her keys among the random items in her pocketbook. She opened the sturdy wooden portal to her home and entered swiftly, locking the door behind her. She slipped off her brown loafers and strode in stocking feet through the small living room to the kitchen bar, slapping papers and classy leather briefcase down and forgetting - just this once - about getting right to her work.

Fuu returned to her well-appointed den and eagerly sat on the pastel-green sofa, drawing her slim legs under her and switching on the lamp before tearing open the envelope.

Dearest Fuu,

I hope this letter finds you coming home from a wild night of partying with a handsome stud on your arm . . . no? Well maybe not, but if it does, I want to hear all.

Things are great in New York; Fred's letting Zach and me work overtime this week to make up for next Thursday night, when Knights of Chaos has its first gig. I'm so very nervous, Fuu. I wish you and Umi were here to tell me I'm being silly and that I'll do fine. Don't worry though, I can just see you two in my head, telling me that we're going to be a big hit and not to worry about it.

Rev and Zach have us practicing at every spare moment of every day - I swear I am even playing in my sleep! I can tell Rev is really excited, but it is a bit harder to verify Zach's feelings. He's got such a tight hold on his emotions you have to know him pretty well to perceive if he's feeling anything. You would love these two guys, Fuu, they're like brothers to me - and believe me, it's great to be on the older end of the sibling ladder for once! Then of course there's little Jo, who is always wound up over everything. Remind you of anyone we used to know?

How's that assistant professor thing working out for you? If they're giving you a hard time in your classes, just refer them to me and I'll soon set them straight for you. With a shinai (A/N: bamboo-lathe practice sword used in kendo), that is. Who would have thought, our little Fuu, broadening all those hundreds of little minds to actual cognitive reasoning . . . it blows my mind sometimes, where we all ended up. Me working at the Dive here in NYC, trying to make my band work, you teaching at the University of Tokyo, Umi kicking executive booty at one of the biggest advertising firms in Japan. And all of us getting older.

No, Fuu, I can see that smile on your face - I'm really not depressed about my birthday in a couple weeks. My TWENTY-FIFTH birthday . . . ok maybe a little depressed. I'm going to be a quarter-century old, Fuu. It's so strange - whenever I think about that, it seems like . . . Cephiro, all those years ago . . . it's so far away now. Do you ever think about our adventures anymore, Fuu? Do you miss it, too? It's hard, isn't it . . . coming back from saving the world - TWICE - and then being expected to just get back to life like nothing happened. None of us have ever really talked about ever going back . . . do you think we will? Will we ever get to see our Cephiro - the world we helped create - ever again? I don't know, but I hope so.

I'll write you again after the gig and tell you everything. Until then, Fuu, take care of yourself and don't work too hard. I know that's like telling Jo to calm down enough to get anything coherent out of her, but I have to try. Oh yeah, and also GET OUT OF THAT APARTMENT AND HAVE SOME FUN! That's an order, miss. Umi has instructions to make sure you find your way to a party or something soon.

I miss you girls.

Best friends and Knights forever, Hikaru

Fuu sighed through a small smile as she finished Hikaru's newsy letter. As usual, her friend seemed more concerned about Fuu's lack of any social life than her own stresses - namely the Knights of Chaos and their opening gig. The Fuu of twenty-five was not really far removed from the Fuu of fourteen . . . rather quiet, shy, and intellectual. She felt that social engagements were all potential embarrassments or nights of extreme boredom without her two best friends around, so she rarely went out unless Umi managed to drag her to yet another one of those 'upper-crust' parties the business executive was so fond of. *I guess Umi will be calling soon to invite me to another.* She reached up almost unconsciously to run a hand through her hair, which was cut in nearly the same chin-length style she had always preferred. *At least I got rid of those glasses,* she thought, blessing the modern applications of laser surgery. *I have to remember to tell Hikaru about that in my next letter,* she reminded herself absently.

She gazed thoughtfully out the huge window set into the outer wall of her apartment, allowing the letter fall from her hands and flutter into her lap, watching the mantle of twilight swiftly following on the wings of the setting sun, lights flickering on throughout the city in technological defiance of the coming nighttime darkness. Her mind was racing beyond the horizon, to a time far in her past . . . Cephiro. Her brow furrowed slightly as she re-read Hikaru's strange reference in her letter. They hadn't talked about Cephiro in . . . years.

*Why bring it up so suddenly,* she wondered, puzzled. The adventures . . . the forging of three unfamiliar girls into best friends and Magic Knights . . . the pain of loss and the joy of victory . . . the ache of departure. Sudden tears stung her emerald-green eyes. "Ferio," Fuu whispered aloud, barely aware that she had done so. She had tried to forget him, tried to find someone else to take his place at her side, knowing in her heart that she was never going to see him again. But it had been a futile effort. The soft gaze from his golden eyes as he held her close still invaded her dreams, all these years later. She would never forget him, and she would never be able to replace him.

Fuu sat for a while on the plush couch, watching the stars emerge one by one in the clear night sky, pondering the things that might have been if only . . . . She shook her head ruefully. *This isn't getting me anywhere,*she thought firmly. *Cephiro was a wonderful place, and I am glad I had the chance to aid the people there; however my life is here now. I will not allow wishes and fancy to take over my life.* On that note, she rose with her typical grace and went into the kitchen, grabbing the stack of quantum physics tests that were begging to be graded. *I'll just start these, then get dinner,* she thought as she brought them into the guest bedroom which she had fixed up as an office.

Fuu had just sat down at her expansive desk, red pen at the ready, when she heard a loud *Thump!* She froze in her chair. "What in the world . . . ." her voice trailed off as a second, then a third loud thud followed the first. *That sounded like it came from the den . . . .* she thought nervously, forcing herself to rise from the desk and slip quietly to the door. She carefully poked her head around the doorframe, trying to slow her breathing. She couldn't spot anything from where she was; she would have to go down the short hallway to see the entire room. *OK, Fuu, just get moving . . . there's probably nothing there,* she thought as she tiptoed into the dark hall. *It's probably just the neighbors upstairs moving furniture again,* she tried to convince herself. The anxious girl flattened her body against the wall before peeking around the corner, praying madly.

"My God!" she breathed in horror.

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"No, I don't want to go out tonight, Tetsuo. No. Why? I'm tired; I've been working overtime all week and all I want to do is go to sleep." Umi rubbed her aching forehead and leaned back in her cushy, black leather chair, propping her stocking-feet on the corner of her office desk. She listened to Tetsuo silently for a moment, waiting for a chance to break in. "Listen, Tetsuo, I have to see a client before I go home. I'll call you, ok?" she asked hurriedly before hanging up in relief. "Will I never be rid of that man," she asked wearily, covering her face with both hands. *At least he didn't ask you to marry him again,* she reminded herself. *It could have most definitely been worse.*

She remained in her chair for a long moment, consciously relaxing her muscles, trying to let all the tension and stress from the previous two weeks drain out of her body. It had all been worth it though, she recalled in satisfaction. They had snagged the Nike: Japan contract right from under the noses of their closest rivals, laughing the entire way. *OK, maybe not laughing,* Umi corrected, recalling the long, sleepless hours of intense work she and her team had put in. *But it all turned out well . . . and we can laugh now.* Her lips curled in a wicked smile, sharp blue eyes sparkling with satisfied humor.

She was, after all, an old hand at engaging in cutthroat warfare in order to get what she wanted. She had battled her way into this company, fighting rivals and superiors with every promotion and raise. At times it felt like she was participating in an endless fencing tournament, scoring touch after touch on her opponents while she herself remained unscathed. *Touché, Kanzaki and Sons.*

Umi yawned widely and stretched her arms high above her head until she could feel her vertebrae pop. "Oof," she grunted. "I really have to get back into fencing every day." She let her arms drop and sat straighter in her chair, letting her feet fall to the floor as she picked up the phone once again "Kadiri?"

"Yes, Umi-san?" Umi's new secretary answered. The blue-haired executive sighed with impatience. She hated it when her secretaries called her Umi- san.

"Kadiri, would you please do me a favor and call Nahoko?" Umi paused, then smiled that wicked smile again and continued, "Tell her I'm getting out of shape and I need her to beat on me for a while with pointy objects." She could hear her prim secretary choke slightly. "Uh . . . yes ma'am. Um . . . pointy objects. Yes, right away, ma'am."

"Thank you Kadiri. I'm going home now, so you needn't stay. Have a nice weekend."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. You too, ma'am."

Umi hung up the phone and rolled her ice-blue eyes. *Wow. I'm going to have a hard time retraining this one, aren't I?* She shrugged her shoulders philosophically. *Ah, well. Gives me something fun to do.* She stood and strolled to the floor-to-ceiling windows that took up two walls in her austere corner office. The sun was just setting, making way for the dark crystal of the night sky. Umi glanced absently at her watch . . . *5PM. Making it an early night for once.* She reached up and pressed a long-fingered, pale hand to the glass, shuddering as she felt its frosty cold. *Almost winter,* she mused, removing her hand and pressing it under her arm to stave off the chill. *Maybe I should think about taking a winter holiday . . . I haven't spoken to - much less seen - my parents in weeks, and poor Fuu . . . she gets so lonely.* Umi frowned unhappily at the direction her thoughts were taking her . . . *I haven't heard from Hikaru since last month, either. Her letter's due soon. Maybe she'll be able to take a couple of days to come back home . . . .*

*CRASH!!!!!!* Umi rolled into a summersault reflexively as an immense, shadow-clad figure smashed through the window mere inches from where the tired woman had been standing nanoseconds before. The black form flew by her to smack heavily against the far wall while Umi rose smoothly from her tumble in a defensive stance. "What the hell??" she burst out, watching the shape recover from its collision and clumsily rise to its feet. Her eyes widened as two more beings, mirror images to the first, shattered the other window with their entry. "We're on the damned 25th floor!! How the hell did you . . .?"

"Who are you?" She yelled angrily, her fear providing instant, endorphin- charged energy.

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OK, that's the first installment of my first MKR fanfic. If you like, please tell me so, and I will continue to post new installments. Thanks!