Virgo Writer: Hi! Hi! Hi! Thanks for stopping by to read and review my fic and you got here, right? So, no worries!
littleweirdwriter: Thanks! I will! (Oh, the horror! Heheh.)
Shadow of Light4: Yeah. Haha. But don't expect the guys to win too often. Heheh. As for the whole cold wind thing, well, that was actually the Vibrations the Echoes were feeling because there was a huge surge. I thought I'd explained that well when writing Shuichon's scene, but I guess not. Maybe I'll go back and rewrite it sometime. Thanks for pointing that out because what makes sense to me, may not make sense to my readers. (Smiles.)
Henrika: Heheh. Uhh . . . was this wait long enough? Err . . . sorry about that. (Smiles.)
KazeMadoshi: Don't feel dumb! Or I'll stick my tongue out at you. Heheh. No, I'm just glad you like my story so much and that you keep reviewing. Thank you!
Blue_eyes17: Good to know you're still here! Thanks. (Smiles.)
SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Resonators
by squishybookworm
The land was gray. It was as gray as when Hirokazu had first began the journey and it was still gray now. He was beginning to wonder if it would change at all. It wasn't even the washed-out gray of a well-worn, once vibrant gray tunic. No. It was as dull and depressing as gray could get without getting brown. No wind stirred the seemingly healthy – but gray – grass underfoot. Gray hills rolled off into the distance to create a gray smudge, which he assumed was the horizon, and that gradually met the lighter gray of the sky, which came back towards him. Hell, even his men were gray.
But the landscape was not to blame for his growing irritation with his men's uneasy murmurs and their constant lurching about as they held onto their weapons with white-knuckled grips. Mouths were pressed into grim lines as eyes shifted furtively. As if to make audible their nervousness, boiled leather armor creaked with each shuffling step and the soft thud of lance poles left behind another pockmark, which littered the matted gray grass.
Even the metal armor of mounted knights clanked loudly. Squeaked with each of their uncomfortable repositioning. This quickly relayed to their large horses, which whinnied and shied away from the squires' firm grips.
Below him, his horse, although a veteran warhorse, skittered uneasily at the slightest strange sounds. He didn't blame it, because even though it far surpassed other horses in intelligence, it was still a dumb beast that required a master to control it. His men, on the other hand, did not have the luxury of being a lower lifeform.
Hirokazu frowned as his flag-bearer accidently bumped into his horse again. "ARE YOU ADDLED?! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" he roared.
The young man jumped with a stifled shriek. The flag-bearer looked up at his Duke with terrified eyes and bowed hastily, apologizing profusely. This action caused the other retainers behind him to trip over his bobbing form and curse him potently.
"STAND UP, YOU DAMN IDIOT! CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE SLOWING DOWN THE BLIGHTED FOOLS BEHIND YOU?! I SHOULD LEAVE YOU BEHIND TO ROT!"
"Ah! No, my Duke! I apologize, my Duke!" His voice faded away as he straightened.
Hirokazu soon lost sight of the young man as his horse continued forward.
"Was that wise, my lord?" The quiet voice on his other side was even and modulated.
Hirokazu turned to his adopted daughter and raised one dark brow. "Think you?"
Her striated golden eyes stayed trained on the smudged horizon as she smiled coldly. "How effective will they be once we reach Cephiro?"
Grinning savagely, Hirokazu flicked his reins once and his horse tossed its head angrily. But his sure handling soon placated the great roan stallion. "See you, Ruri, how this beast is so easily calmed? It feels less fear than the quiver in that boy's fingers! Yet it has nothing to spur it forward. Nothing save the bite of my heels. Think you it is wise to trust victory to such a dumb animal?" He threw back his head and gave a boom of laughter. "No! It is the fear! The smell of blood, the bite of steel, the sight of guts, which gets a man moving! It is their fear that will feed their anger and their courage!"
He laughed again and the few men behind him smiled tentatively and straightened. One or two even swaggered as their voices got louder and another risked a guffaw at some joke his friend had said. Like a ripple, this affected the men behind them and continued so on down the long line of men.
Ruri's expression never changed, but the note of pleasure was clear in her voice. "I see."
She turned her eerie golden eyes on him and they shone with a fey light, like a candle flame that never flickered. Unlike most men, Hirokazu never flinched from the gaze.
"And think you, My Duke, if they shall be even more afeared when the Mistakes come?" Ruri asked. "Will they be even more courageous?"
Hirokazu only grinned savagely again. "We'll see."
"– lord! My lord! Out of the way, men! I have an urgent message for my lord! Make way! Make way, I say! My lord Shioda!"
Sighing heavily, the Duke of Raleigh, reined his horse and nodded to Ruri to continue the march. He waited between two columns formed of marching soldiers for the messenger to reach him. It was the Baron Ryo Akiyama. He recognized the long brown curls, which the young nobleman never seemed to be able to tame. Riveting midnight blue eyes flashed with overly enthused panic and he waved one arm excitedly as if his Duke was too nearsighted to make him out.
"My lord!" His chestnut gelding tossed its head, shying away from a mounted knight, who was patrolling up and down his column. His clanking mail barely covered his loud expletive when Akiyama's waving arm caught his visor and it closed with a loud scrape of metal.
"I have urgent news of my lady Shioda!" Akiyama said. "She is raving, your Grace!"
"Silence, man!" the abused knight bellowed at the Baron. He swiped the visor back, irritated and demanded, "How dare you speak so of the Duchess!"
Akiyama paused, eyes widening. "Oh! I apologize, Your Grace! But I think you should see her. She's saying the strangest things. . . ."
"What insolence–"
"Hold, Count Kashue." Hirokazu held up his hand.
The knight immediately quieted. His dark mustache twitched and he was clearly annoyed at having to defer to the younger Akiyama, but he held his peace, nonetheless.
The Duke waited patiently as Akiyama finally reached his side. Seemingly oblivious of the glower the Count sent his way when he pressed too close, Baron Ryo sketched a quick bob from atop his gelding. "She's talking of fate and being alone and not making any sound sense, Your Grace. Her maids felt it was prudent to inform you as soon as possible, my lord."
"I knew we shouldn't be bringing women on a campaign, my lord," Kashue murmured. "It is still not too late to be returning them home again."
Hirokazu sent the knight a sharp glance. Then he smiled, making sure all his teeth were bared. "Think you she is a burden, Kashue?"
Kashue never blinked. "Yes."
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Hirokazu threw back his head, causing a few long strands of his dark brown hair to become dislodged from the thin, plain gold circlet. He clapped the knight's shoulder companionably and turned to the Baron. "Such a blunt man! Not afeared of the truth, this one, eh?"
Akiyama blinked. "Er, yes, my lord. But Her Grace, my lord . . ."
Hirokazu waved one hand negligently and nudged his horse into a canter, which the other two matched. "Yes, yes, yes, lord knight. I shall go now. I shall see how my lady wife fares. Does that suit you?"
"I don't mean to be impertinent, my lord."
"If you were impertinent Akiyama, your head would be rolling." His toothy grin did nothing to ease the sudden ashen pallor of the young Baron and Kashue's stony expression certainly did not help. "Come now! I was only jesting, yes?" Hirokazu laughed again as he nudged his horse towards the back where the supply train was located. Nonetheless, as he followed his Duke, Akiyama made a sure reminder to himself to never anger his lord in any way.
They passed by hundreds of soldiers, whose grim faces alighted with smiles and loud salutations upon seeing their Duke stride past, tall and regal on his large roan stallion and with his long hair waving behind him like a flag. Against the backdrop of the gray sky, he looked vibrant and invincible with his silver-polished armor, gleaming circlet, and the vivid crimson tunic with a sleek fox embroidered in black. The ebony folds of his cloak was thrown back, clearly displaying the glittering ruby in the pommel of his gilded sword.
But the rich trappings were merely ornaments on the man, who radiated power like the sun radiated heat. His light blue eyes reflected a clearness so sharp, it could have been mistaken for high intelligence, except the bright gleam was just a little too bright. Like that found in a fever-induced gaze. However, the marching men noticed none of that. They only saw the confident tilt of his fine chin and the sure handling of his roan.
Lancers gave way to foot soldiers to another company of lancers and then the beginnings of the healers' carts and supply train passed by the three mounted men. They finally came upon a deep red carriage trimmed with ebony and led by four white mares. This was flanked by eight maids, each on a matching white mare and trappings denoting the colors of their respective titles.
Count Kashue's wife, as noted by the dark blue and amber of her saddle, was the most senior lady as she was allowed to hover closest to the closed door of the carriage. She was a sharp-eyed matron with noticeably high cheekbones much like her husband, yet the unforgiving cragginess found in the Count's face was not present in hers.
She nudged her horse forward to approach the three as they drew close. "My lord," she intoned with a nod.
Hirokazu trotted past her to the carriage. "How long has she been like this?"
"Since the Vibration, Your Grace."
"Well," Hirokazu murmured, "I didn't expect her to be like so for so long. Ruri really must inform me much more thoroughly."
"I'm sorry, my lord?" Countess Kashue said.
"None of your concern, my lady."
"If my lord would allow me to be so bold?" the Countess continued.
"Yes, yes, go on."
"Perhaps if you would speak to her, she would respond to your voice."
"Yes, yes, perhaps it would be best if I do so. No reason to let my dear lady wife think she is alone, yes?" Before the others could reply, Hirokazu parted the curtains keeping out the gray landscape from his wife's sensibilities. "My lady?"
". . . alone. My . . . destiny . . . fate . . . who . . . my heart . . ." The whisper floated from the gloom of the interior as if a wraith had taken residence in the heart of the crimson carriage.
"Hmph. Don't be so cold, my lady. My lady! My ladyi! It is I, your beloved husband!"
". . . no one . . . why . . . ? Where . . . my . . . please . . . not alone . . . no . . ."
Frowning heavily, the Duke deftly leapt from his horse and opened the door of the slow-moving vehicle and entered. "My lady, must you be such a bother? I said 'tis I, your loving husband, come to see how you fare."
The scent of heavy perfume reached him first in the dim carriage. Underneath, a subtle odor, sweet and fresh, something separate from the cloying perfume the court ladies seemed to find so necessary, permeated the huddled form on the floor.
Her dress pooled around her form like the petals of a blooming flower, and she sat daintily in the middle like a hummingbird. What light reached her pale skin burned a gold sheen on the smooth surface and a long, silky brown mane of hair curled over her shoulder to spread gracefully about the seats and the floor. He fingered a lank in his hand, enjoying the smooth texture rolling between his fingers.
He sniffed again, unsure of what it was exactly. Rosewater that his wife bathed her hair in every night and lavender water, which she used every morning to wash her hands and face, mixed dizzily with the heavy perfume.
". . . dream . . . not real . . . who . . . who . . . are you . . . ? Takato . . . ? Where . . . alone . . ."
"Takato?" Hirokazu snapped. That was what it was. The scent. The scent of fresh apple blossoms. Like the orchard she'd always claimed to love to visit. And he knew she especially loved to visit it at night when she thought no one was watching.
The hand grasping her hair shuddered and he wound the length around his hand until he reached the base of her skull. There, he jerked. But she didn't cry out. Her glassy mahogany eyes stared up at him sightlessly as her pale coral lips moved around her disjointed words.
The Duke of Raleigh pushed in until he was sure she could feel his hot breath upon her cheek. "Don't forget, my lady, you are mine, now. You were bought and paid for in three titled lands and two thousand coin-weight in gold," he hissed, "You are here to birth my children, not the spawns of a lowly soldier."
". . . alone . . . destiny . . ."
"Ahh, my lady. But you are not alone now." He nuzzled her cheek, breathing in the scent of lavender and apple blossoms. "Be grateful that I did not slay you on the spot when I learned of your disgraceful and licentious behavior," he whispered, his hot breath causing wisps of rich mahogany strands to flutter feebly against her temple. "Be grateful that I am such a generous person that I did not ruin your good name and that of your family. But for that . . ." He smiled, light blue eyes shining with an unholy light, " for that, Jeri, you must remain at my side. Always."
He traced a path from the slender column of her neck, under the soft skin of her jaw, and onto her moving lips, which he stroked lightly with the pad of his thumb. Yet her unfocused eyes remained distant and unaware of his touch.
"Hmph." With a rough jerk, Hirokazu shoved her away. She crashed against the door and sprawled with a stirring of expensive perfume, rose, and lavender. She remained collapsed, hands limply hidden in the folds of the dress, which looked like a crushed flower petals.
"Whoring wench," he muttered, before opening the door and leaving the cloying interior of the carriage.
"Be she well, my lord?" Ryo asked as HIrokazu stepped from the carriage.
"She says the dust bothers her something fierce." Hirokazu regained his seat on his roan then turned to the three nobles. He grinned slowly, looking very much like the fox depicted on his tunic. "Shall we leave her Grace be?"
". . . no one . . ."
Where was she?
". . . why . . . ? Where . . ."
This place was bright. So bright, Jeri wondered where the light could be coming from seeing as there was no sun in the sky of wherever this place was.
". . . my . . . please . . . not alone . . ."
Then something flickered at the edge of her vision. Jeri spun quickly, knowing if she did not catch the phantom movement, it would disappear like that in a dream. But the object didn't disappear.
". . . no . . ."
The voice. The voice was coming from that . . . thing. It was a sphere. Shimmering with light and pale colors, yet it wasn't the source of light illuminating the vast plain she found herself in.
"Is this a dream?" She started in surprise as her voice sounded clearly in the empty space. She'd expected it to be quieter, as if somehow her voice wouldn't sound so real. Like a dream voice.
". . . dream . . . not real . . ."
"Hello?" Jeri made her way to the strange globe. Yes. The voice was definitely coming from there. "Hello? Can you hear me? Do you know where I am? Who are you?"
". . . who . . ."
"Yes! It's me! My name is Jeri. I'm calling! Can you tell me where I am? What is this place? Who are you?" Jeri ran towards the object, her heart beginning to pound heavily. Where was she? What was this? Where was she? Where was Takato? Why was she here? Where was she? What was happening? Where was Takato? "Please! Please, answer me! Who are you?!"
Her feet pounded against something solid, yet the unending whiteness of the place made the sensation of infinite boundaries and she felt as if she wasn't moving no matter how hard she ran. Each footfall made no sound against the unseen, but firm surface. She could only hear the loud beat of her heart in her ears and somehow that made the white space seem so much larger. So much more lonely.
Her breath hitched as a cramp began low in her side. Heavy skirts pulling at her pumping legs, she cursed the cumbersome weight as she lifted them to avoid tripping. She looked up and blinked.
The object seemed as far away as when she'd first began running!
What was going on here?! Where was she?! Was this a dream?!
"Hey! Wait! Please answer me! Who are you? Where am I? Please!" She ran again, hands reaching up to the iridescent sphere above. Desperate to catch it as panic began pounding in her chest.
It was like when she'd been younger and her mother had taken her to the market. She'd gotten separated and for hours, had seached for her mother or anything familiar. No matter how hard she'd cried, no one had helped her or found her and she'd finally collapsed in a corner of an entrance to a shop. But the owner had chased her off and she was forced to walk around endlessly, young legs cramping from hours of usuage, face blotchy with too much exposure to the sun, and eyes tearing continuously. Although there had been many people wandering the streets, no one had bothered to stop. To help the little girl with the tear-stained face. She was alone.
"Please!" she begged, "Don't leave me! Don't leave me alone! Where am I? Who are you? Who are you?!"
". . . who . . . are you . . . ?"
"Jeri! My name is Jeri! Please, can you tell me where I am? Who are you? Please, don't leave me! Don't leave me alone! Please! Takato! Takato! Where are you? Answer me, please! Takato! TAKATO!"
That's right. Back then, Takato had found her, bawling by a fountain in a courtyard not far from where she'd lived. He'd been splashing around in the water for a while, before he'd noticed the sobbing girl. And he'd done something Jeri had not expected.
He'd splashed her.
The shock of the cold water had been enough to silence her for a few seconds. Long enough for him to grin easily at her and ask if she'd wanted to play with him at home.
Her heavy skirts slipped from her grasp and tangled between her legs. Jeri gasped, brown eyes wide as she flung her hands out in an instinctive attempt to find purchase. But in the endless, white landscape, she found nothing to grab. Nothing. She was alone.
She screamed, "TAKATO!"
". . . Takato . . . ?" the voice repeated.
She fell.
"JERI!"
Jeri's brown eyes flew open to stare up in concerned wine-red eyes. She gasped and grabbed the brown-haired boy in a tight hug. "Takato!"
"Jeri?" his surprised voice murmured from above reassuringly, and rumbled through his warm chest. "What happened?"
But she couldn't answer. She was too busy inhaling the comforting smell of baked bread he always exuded, despite the sweat salty smell that also accompanied him this time. She concentrated on the even rise and fall of his chest, unaware of the soaked shirt brushing roughly against her cheek. Takato was here. Takato was here. He was here!
". . . Jeri?"
She only shook her head, biting her lip and burrowing deeper into the boy's embrace. She didn't want to talk. She only wanted to breath in his familiar scent and feel his steady breathing surround her. To revel in his beating heart and hear his soothing voice. She didn't want to say anything. Nonetheless, a sob broke past her lips and she squeezed harder, as if she was trying to crawl into Takato's skin.
He murmured something unintelligible then stroked her hair gently and rocked back and forth. After a long while, Jeri's grip loosened, but she did not pull away.
"Jeri? What's wrong? What happened?"
Finally, she straightened and turned away swiftly, swiping her eyes with her arm as she did so.
"I . . . I'm sorry for being such a child," she said. The muggy air was still hot, yet she already missed the warm encirclement of Takato's arms.
"You're not a child, Jeri," Takato said quietly. She turned back to him, watery eyes wide at the note of passion in his tone and his flushed skin seemed to turn a darker shade of red as he said, "I don't think you're a child."
He held her stare steadily, frowning slightly as if he could convince her of this with his eyes alone. It was somewhat . . . intense. And it suddenly made her light-headed.
"Takato," she breathed.
His irises darkening to a plum color, he gently grasped her arms and pulled her back into his embrace. Immediately, the smell of his sweat and fresh-baked bread surrounded her, and his arms, lightly muscled from lifting heavy breadpans for most of his life, were wet with new perspiration, yet they were solid and warm beneath the worn cotton of his tunic as he tightened his hold. Like a drum, his heart continued its steady pace against her cheek again as she flattened her palm over the firm definition of his chest.
"Jeri," he said quietly. "Don't ever scare me like that again. I'm so glad . . . so glad you're back."
She smiled, feeling his shirt brush against her lips lightly. It was warm from his skin, she realized. Right on the heels of that thought, her lips began tingling slightly and if her arms had not been trapped by Takato's hug, she would have reached up to press them, to savor the sensation.
"Jeri, what happened?"
Her smile fell. Burrowing her head under his chin as if that would chase away the image of empty white plains and a broken, whispering voice, she inhaled his scent once more.
"I really . . . don't know," she whispered. She absently smoothed out his soaked shirt against his chest, patting it reassuringly when he grimaced at the sticky feel. Nonetheless, his arms tightened.
And she would have been content to stay like this for quite a while longer, had not the sound of a clearing throat made Takato leap away from her as if she had the plague or some such nonsense.
"Am I interrupting something?" Kenta's innocent voice broke the fragile spell they'd woven and Jeri sighed inaudibly.
"Ah, uh, n-n-n-no! Nothing! N-nope! Nuh-uh! Nothing at all!" Takato waved his arms before him wildly as if that would hasten the words to the bespectacled boy's ears. "Honestly! Jeri just woke up! Nothing happened!"
Jeri pushed back from the furiously blushing Takato – not that anyone noticed since he'd been red since they'd first arrived anyway – and flashed a reassuring smile to Kenta. "Are you okay, Kenta?"
"Yes, I'm fine, Miss Katou. What about you? Are you . . ."
She smiled again. "All my senses seem intact and aside from the fact that I'm really, very thirsty again, I think I will be fine."
"You're thirsty?!" Takato shot up like a bug had bitten him. "I-I'll go get you some water!" he shouted.
Jeri winced as he walked away stiffly, studiously ignoring the questioning glance Kenta shot his way. After he'd disappeared through the brush, Kenta turned back to the sitting girl.
"Was it something I said?" he asked.
"No," Jeri reassured, "Takato's just a little embarrassed." She gave a small giggle that petered off quickly to be replaced by a pensive look.
"Miss Katou, what's wrong?"
"She recognized his name," she murmured.
"I'm sorry?"
Jeri started and looked up. "Oh, nothing. It's nothing."
"Oh. . . . Um, Miss Katou . . . ?"
"Yes?"
"Uh, what . . . happened, exactly?"
"Happened?"
"You know, when the Vibration began, because we're all Echoes, we could feel it, but you . . . you . . . it wasn't only the Vibration. After the Vibration, the rest of us were alright, but something strange happened to you. . . . Are you sure you're alright?"
"I . . ." Jeri looked down at her hands and idly noted the whiteness of her knuckles as she twisted her skirt into a crumpled mess. Alright? Was she alright? Now. Now, with the last rays of the sun filtering through the shadowed green canopy above and the heavy, yet real, wind twisting through the heavy undergrowth, she could convince herself that it had been nothing but a dream. But . . .
"I don't know if it is an indication of your latent powers as an Echo or some other force, but Miss Katou," Kenta adjusted his spectacles nervously, "I know you were Vibrating while you were in your . . . trance. . . . And just now, I'd felt the Vibration end, that's why I came to find you."
"I . . . wasn't aware of Vibrating . . ." Jeri said hesitantly, "I really don't know much of this Vibration except what my father has told me." At the bespectacled Echo's questioning look, Jeri hastened to explain, "My father is a bard. He'd travelled for quite some time before settling down to become an innkeeper. Of course, you must know that Echoes are the most romantic subjects in tales and most tales must have some kernel of truth to them, yes?"
"I suppose so."
"From what I remember, Vibration is the skill Echoes use to move themselves from one Tune to another, right?"
"Yes. But it can also be used to enhance our abilities or communicate over long distances or something like that. It all depends on the person and the extent to which his di-genes has activated."
"Di-genes?"
"Yes. Not many people know of that part, so I doubt bardic tales will mention them much. But, basically they are the sources of our Vibration skills. When another person Vibrates, other Echoes can feel that person Vibrating. Do you know that feeling when a cold wind blows across your naked skin?"
Jeri nodded.
"That's what most Vibrations feel like."
"Most?"
"Well, right before you became, ah, catatonic, there was a powerful rush, like someone had been Vibrating . . . only . . ."
"Only what?"
"Only . . . it was so powerful . . . I've never heard of anyone that powerful. Never felt a Vibration that intensely before." Kenta paused, expression disquieted as he adjusted his spectacles again. "It even forced the Echoes to wake up."
"Is it so hard?" Jeri wondered out loud. She shuddered to think what would happen if that blank place found her again and she couldn't get out. Clutching her skirts tightly, she shook her head to dispel that thought.
"An Echo's fatigue is not willingly done. Their bodies falls asleep despite any protests they may have. They can't just wake up. In fact, what has happened is impossible!"
"But it did," Takato said quietly. He reentered the clearing then carefully placed a large leaf filled with water into Jeri's waiting palms and straightened quickly, turning away with an awkward cough.
Kenta stared at him, unable to refute that fact. Red-orange rays of light fingered into their secluded clearing, laying a pattern of shadows and red-gold light against the floor. A bird twittered above, rousing again, now that the heat of day was gone and the soft hum of insects slowly rose above the wind in the trees. The smell of mildew and rotting leaves surrounded Jeri thickly interwoven in the oppressive cloak of heat that seemed determined to cling to the landscape, even through the night. She wished Takato would come sit near her.. She wanted his comforting scent of fresh-baked bread.
"What happened, Miss Katou?" Kenta asked. "Did you . . . did you . . . see anything?"
Tracing the patterns of veins on leaf with her eyes, Jeri shook her head. She picked it up, carefully keeping her eyes averted as she followed the same path her eyes had taken with the tip of her finger.
"Oh. . . ." The sigh of relief and disappointment was evident in Kenta's voice as he flipped his tonfas out and began absently swinging them.
"Jeri–" Takato began.
"I didn't!" Jeri said just as quickly. She paused to take a deep breath and said more slowly, "I didn't see anything, Takato."
"Okay," he said quietly, eyes boring into hers. "I believe you, Jeri."
She bit her lip, unable to look at him. She almost wished he'd been more persistent and pressed her to reveal more of what had transpired in that strange place. She frowned slightly. Or maybe it really had been a dream? Yes. A dream. It had only been a dream. . . .
But she couldn't suppress a shiver as something like a cold breeze swept through her body, chilling her from inside out.
"But I wonder," Kenta continued, "what was that Vibration? Maybe you were just caught up in the aftereffects of that as well? I know that the Tuners have that special ability to detect Vibrations and they're very sensitive. Maybe you're a Tuner?"
"Regardless of whether she is or is not a Tuner is irrelevant."
All heads whipped up to the new voice.
"Ah!" Jeri gasped. "You're awake!"
The Clow woman smiled weakly from her position in the tall, slim man's arms. Her exotic maroon eyes twinkled hardily, seeming almost fever-bright with the ash-paleness of her skin and her long dark pigtails trailing over the man's arms like streamers of ink. Dramatic in contrast to the short, fiery auburn locks of her companion's hair.
"And I see you are awake as well," she said. She attempted to wave a hand, but this proved too hard for her and she let it flop limply against the man's chest.
Jeri stood up, approaching them with a concerned face. The woman had been seriously injured and now that she was awake, she actually was looking far worse. "Are you alright, Miss . . . ?"
"Meiling. Li Meiling. And this idiot, who won't let me go," she punctuated this statement with a light slap in the man's chest, who grunted slightly, in turn, "is Trowa Barton."
Jeri saw Trowa's arms tighten and he murmured, "I'm not letting you go, Meiling."
If she wasn't so weak, Jeri was sure the Clow woman would have blushed. As it was, she settled for an embarrassed cough and closed her eyes. "Well," she muttered, "we'd better go somewhere, before the sun sets or we may never find our way out of this place."
"Can't you just Vibrate?" Kenta inquired.
The female Echoe opened her maroon eyes to give him a flat look. "Do you want us collapsing on you as soon as we arrive within the Tunes? You'll be stuck there until someone else finds you first, because our bodies won't let us stop Vibrating. That is, if someone finds you before a Mistake does."
At the mention of those hideous monsters that had attacked them twice in the Tunes, Kenta paled and fingered his tonfas nervously. Jeri clutched her skirts as a nervous tremor of fear fluttered low in her stomach. She swallowed thickly and looked back at Takato, wanting to reassure herself that he would still be there and that she would be able to reach quickly if needed.
But the brunette baker wasn't paying attention. His wine-red eyes shone with excitement and he trembled with barely contained glee. He was like a child with a plateful of sweets.
Jeri opened her mouth to call his name, but then closed it with an audible click. She turned away. She reassured herself that the nameless fear sending her heart racing suddenly was only the memory of the Mistakes. That the sudden lack of warmth in the air was nothing more than a random night wind. She reminded herself that the ground beneath her feet was solid and strewn with leaves and brown. Not white.
A/N: Whew! Finally finished it! I'm about to collapse from exhaustion. *Thump* Too late. Eh. Oh, wells. Did I say I'd post this before summer was over? Err . . . ahahahah . . . eheheh . . . ummm . . . yeah . . . What I meant was one month after summer was over. Err . . . yeah! That's it!
There are probably hundreds of mistakes in this chapter. Sorry, guys, I haven't had time to reread it and I know I've taken long enough to post another chapter. I'm just really, really, really sorry about the crappiness of it.