A/N: I am so happy! I've gotten so many reviews for this story! I want to
thank Girl with too many aliasses, SorsX, HarmonyIsarine, Athena, and Angel
of Death 87 for all their wonderful support. You guys are great! And
Athena, I know my reviews have bugged you about it a million times, but if
you could please continue Origins of the Dark Messenger! That is such a
great fan fic! Thanks a bunch, guys! And also, this next scene jumps to
another person briefly. It's kind of strange. And if it seems a little
out of character at first, I'll get into more detail about it later.
There's actually a reason for it . . . So, have fun! Oh, and there's a
little dirty language in this chapter too. Just a warning.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is not my property. I merely live on it ^_-
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"Nichio-Bi, Getsuyo-Bi, Kayo-Bi, let's go inside. Come, come," Mikoto calmly ushered the little black mages into the house, trying to get them out of the rain before their coats got wet; not that they could beneath those enormous hats. She smiled kindly at Suiyo-Bi who was gazing longingly outside despite the oncoming storm.
"Now, now, Suiyo-Bi. Don't you want to look nice for Daddy?"
"I wanna go outside . . ." the little mage muttered wistfully.
But the genome didn't want the children to look too haggled when their father returned - which wouldn't be for several more days - so she gently guided Suiyo-Bi into the house with the others. Their father - Vivi - was still up in Alexandria, celebrating the return of his friend . . . and Mikoto's brother. She almost wished she could go up there and see him - it had been so long - but she didn't want to leave Master Vivi's children alone. And the other genomes depended on her. She had to teach them. And they were willing to learn.
Then again, they were always willing to learn . . . No matter what they were being taught . . .
When Mikoto finally had the last of the little tykes inside she took a step forward, prepared to follow them when suddenly -
BAM!
The door slammed shut right in her face. Mikoto froze and whipped around, blonde hair flying, tail poised warily in the air. A click told her that the door had locked from behind.
"What in the - mmf!"
A hand clapped over her mouth, silencing her immediately. Thinking fast, the third angel of death bit down hard. There was a cry and the mystery person let go of her face and cuffed the young girl hard, knuckles connecting with her right cheek. Mikoto yelped in pain and fell sideways from the blow.
She threw out her hands to catch herself and scraped her palms considerably as she tumbled into the dirt. Shaking her head to clear it, the blonde genome straightened up once more and began squinting around everywhere for her oppressor.
Her search was in vain . . .
There was no one around . . .
Frowning and thoroughly confused, Mikoto dragged herself to her feet, wiping her dirty, cut hands on her skirt. Had she just completely lost her mind . . .? But she could've sworn . . .
Gently the young girl touched the raw spot on her cheek. There was a throbbing bruise forming there . . . But how . . .?
The sharp point of a blade dug warningly into her back. Mikoto stiffened immediately. Her initial reaction was to retaliate, but she did not. Something deep inside told her to stay put.
"All right, missy," someone hissed snake-like in her ear, prodding her with the blade. "You've got till the count of three to turn around and come with me,"
Mikoto hesitated. The small pain in her back tightened. This was no ordinary weapon. She sensed great power within it . . .
"One . . ."
/Please let this be a joke./ Mikoto thought desperately, her mind searching frantically for a solution to the mess. What if the children looked out the window and saw?! She couldn't put them in that kind of danger! Thank heaven's for curtains . . .
"Two . . ."
/Okay, so maybe this isn't a joke . . . What am I going to do?! What does he want?! What would Zidane do?/
Well, that was obvious . . .
"Thr - "
"HIYA!" Mikoto whipped around screaming and high-kicked the weapon out of his hand with a devastating blow. The device was thrust out of his fingers. It flew off to the side and clattered upon the ground with a sharp clang, spiraling for a moment before coming to rest near the trunk of a nearby tree. A drop of rain landed upon the ground next to it leaving a dark wet spot upon the dirt. The clouds were beginning to fester overhead.
"What in the - " the man stared numbly at his empty hand, then up at Mikoto, his eyes dancing with surprise and perhaps a bit of fright. The young genome curled her lips, snarling. She'd never fought before, yet it just seemed to come naturally. Being an Angel of Death probably helped too . . .
Trying to defend herself, Mikoto charged at the enemy, shoving him hard in the chest and knocking him to the ground. He wheezed as his back made contact with dirt. Unfortunately, he countered by sweeping his foot low through the air and successfully knocking her feet out from under her. The genome tripped backwards and landed on her rump with a hard thud. The man sat up immediately and thrust out an arm, grabbing a tuft of her hair and pulling her head forward. She screamed and clawed at his face. A cry broke the air and she realized she'd made contact. Looking in astonishment at her fingernails she discovered, even more amazingly, that she'd drawn blood. A strange feeling of rage boiled over her. She'd never felt like that before. It was like a molten wrath was churning in her stomach. All she wanted to do was rip her opponent's heart out; no matter what it took. All logic fluttered out of her mind. This man was going down . . .
/Could this be how Kuja felt when he did all those terrible things?/
Noticing the young girl's hesitation the man seized his possibly only opportunity.
He lunged forward and shoved her backwards causing her to let out a frightened squeak of surprise. He immediately scrambled over her, pinning her upper arms down with his fingers and settling one leg on either side of her waist, locking her knees in place. She was trapped.
Like a panicked beast, the barrage of screams and cries escaped her throat as she twisted and turned beneath his grip.
"Sit . . . still!" the man groaned, trying to tame the struggling monster. She glared into his bright green eyes, noticing for the first time how truly green they were. Electric green, reminding her thoroughly of glistening jade-stones.
Letting out an agitated growl, Mikoto managed to yank one of her legs out of his strangle-hold and kick him where the sun don't shine. She took advantage of his agony to roll over him, locking his own arms and legs in place, much the same way he had done with her. She growled, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Who are you and what are you doing in our village?!" she demanded, grabbing his oak hair in one hand and yanking as hard as she could. He, in turn, bared his teeth at her and spat bitterly in her face. She jerked her head out of the way and it missed.
Three lines of blood were running down the man's cheek, oozing towards the collar of his shirt. It was the first time Mikoto had ever noticed his clothes. They were strange.
Her attention was suddenly drawn away from his outfit as cold metal pressed sharply against her throat causing the skin there to twitch convulsively in response. The genome froze, tightening her grip on the man's arms. Looking down she saw, much to her surprise, that not only was there a dagger prepared to slice her head off, but the man she was holding down had an identical dagger being held to his neck too. His eyes were watering with fear.
"Put the man down . . ." someone hissed in Mikoto's ear, the dagger pressing just a little harder against her skin as if warning her to do as she was told. The eleven-year-old gulped and slowly loosened her grip upon the man's arms, trying to hold her fingers steady. His hands dropped limply out of her reach and fell back to his sides. Gaining control over his appendages once more, the man began feverishly wiping at the blood on his face, fearfully staring at the weapon poised by his jugular.
Mikoto's blue eyes flashed in the direction of whomever was threatening to kill her, but she couldn't see them. With a dangerous glint, the dagger withdrew from her neck. She would have relaxed except that someone grabbed her wrists and pinned them painfully against her back, seizing her roughly off the ground, and dragging her up by her short blonde hair. Mikoto cried out, afraid the locks were going to be ripped right out of her head.
A male voice from somewhere nearby began talking swiftly, a cocky deadliness to his tone.
"Hold her off until I'm finished. Don't let her get away,"
"Of course," a female voice responded, tinged with glee. Someone smacked Mikoto hard across the face causing her head to snap to the side. She began thrashing wildly.
"Stand down you brat!"
Mikoto began to struggle worse, kicking her legs ferociously. She was slapped once more; harder this time. It seemed only to fuel her rage further.
/If only I could use magic! I'd blast these assholes straight to Esto Gaza!/
"If you don't hold still, I will kill you," the woman whispered dangerously near the young genome's face, the words gurgling with venom. Mikoto scowled, hissing angrily. However, common sense took its toll and she relented, relaxing slightly in the uncomfortable position. Despite her "good behavior" the grip upon her wrists and hair was not alleviated in the least. Mikoto didn't doubt that they would kill her. Instead, she turned her eyes upon her previous attacker who was still lying on his back upon the ground, breathing heavily. Whoever had been holding the dagger to his throat had slipped away before Mikoto even had a chance to see them. It struck the young girl as strange that she had been unable to keep her eyes on any of these people. How was that possible?
"Master . . ." the man thrown across the ground whimpered, still rubbing at his scratched face. A deep purple was beginning to form around the cut marks. "Master . . . please . . ."
"Silence," someone snapped. A new weapon replaced the dagger by his neck. It took Mikoto a minute to register that it was the weapon she'd been jabbed in the back with before. She'd completely forgotten about it.
"Master . . . I would have gotten her . . . ! Really!"
He received a harsh kick in the side. The man groaned in agony, his green eyes squeezing shut in pain.
"Who - told - you - you - could - use - my - weapon . . .?" the "master" whispered dangerously, annunciating every word carefully. His voice sent shivers down Mikoto's spine.
"Master . . . I'm so sorry . . . But I thought . . ."
"I know what you thought. And you thought wrong. He does not want that to be done just yet you ill-breed fool! You could have ruined everything! How dare you attempt something like that on your own without my permission! The consequences will be harsh . . . yet most fitting. Don't you agree?"
"Master!"
"No? Hmm . . . Lulian!"
"Yes?" Mikoto heard the woman holding her from behind respond.
"Take Ummei back to The Indomitable and give him a lashing he'll never forget when we're done. Show him a good time . . ."
"Of course. With pleasure," there was a giggle of mirth near Mikoto's ear. She felt bile rising in her throat, topped with disgust.
The grip on her wrists was shifted slightly and Mikoto was suddenly able to twist her neck around and get a clear view of "the Master." All she saw before she was jerked back into place was a pair of leering green eyes and a cold, icy smirk. His pupils were the same voltaic green as Ummei's. But they were much, much scarier. . .
Suddenly, Mikoto felt the weapon that had been jabbing her in the back before, jabbing her in the back again. The feeling was disturbingly familiar. It made her shudder.
"Another one bites the dust . . ."
"Hee hee . . ."
There was a sharp, searing pain like flames through Mikoto's body and a veil of black was pulled over her eyes as all consciousness was lost . . .
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The town of Katei was quiet, the setting of the sun soothing the tucked-in town into an almost whimsical lullaby of silence. But there was one who would get no peace that night . . .
"Megan . . ." a voice whispered, seeping through the young girl's thoughts. "Megan . . ."
Megan looked up from the couch where she had been sitting, quietly reading a thick novel perched upon her lap.
"What?"
"Megan . . . The newspaper . . . tomorrow . . . Read it . . ."
Megan frowned, staring into the dim shadows of the living room. Somehow, the mysterious voice sounded a little less mysterious when talking about newspapers.
"Uh . . ." she didn't know what to say. A tingling sensation went up her spine as if fingers were trailing ghost-like up her back.
"Feather, is this some kind of trick?!" the young girl snapped, starting to get angry and upset that he would pull something as cruel as that on her. He had always seemed like such a sweet, kind man. A harsh chuckle ran through her psyche.
"Don't you know . . .?" it whispered, taunting her.
"Know what?" Megan insisted suspiciously. There was a moment of silence before the deep, harsh voice curled itself around her mind once more.
"I've seen what you've seen . . ."
Megan froze, numbly dropping the book onto the seat-cushion next to her.
"Wh-who are you?!" she called, beginning to feel frightened. "Is this some sort of sick joke?!"
"This is no joke. This is reality. And everything you saw will be . . ."
"What kind of sick fucker are you?!" Megan screamed, jumping to her feet and balling her fists angrily.
"Ha, ha, ha . . . What will you do when it all happens? Hmm?"
The frightened woman looked around wildly. For some reason she wanted to just curl up and cry into someone's shoulder. She began to call out desperately.
"Mom! Grandma! Feather! Someone!" she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her incessant shaking. "Please! Anyone!" she buried her face in her hands, trying to block out the phantom laughter. The next thing she knew, a pair of warm fingers were gently brushing her hair out of her face and someone was holding her tight, rocking her silently. Megan sniffled and looked up to find herself staring into a pair of deep blue eyes.
"Feather . . .?" she whispered, blinking back tears.
"Shh . . ." the silver-haired man cooed, wiping a salty tear away from her cheek and smoothing his thumb over it. "What's wrong? Why were you crying?"
Megan buried her face in his warm embrace, clutching him tightly. She wanted to tell him how horrible it was . . . But . . . somehow she didn't think that telling him she had heard voices talking about newspapers in her head would slide over too well. Instead, she muttered "It was nothing . . ." and pulled back, taking a deep breath. He watched her quietly, contemplating how many ways she could possibly be lying to him.
"Feather," Megan began, gazing quietly out the open window into the crisp morning air. "When you were having nightmares . . . What were they about?" she wondered if they were anything like her own. Feather laughed, his voice tinged with a slight coldness. Megan had been noticing that more lately. The coldness. She wondered if it was because something had changed; or if everything from before had merely been an act. She knew nothing about him . . . even after two and a half years . . .
"They were pointless," the young man responded, shaking his head. "Just flicks of memory . . . from my past . . ."
Megan looked up sharply and Feather gave her an annoyed look.
"Oh, please! You know I don't have amnesia!" he scoffed, thinking back on the conversation he'd had with Mrs. Yorokobi. Megan blushed.
"I-I'm sorry . . ."
"No, it doesn't matter," Feather chimed. "What's important is that you're all right,"
"I'm fine!" Megan exclaimed, trying to put on the most chipper face possible.
It looked like an expression from a masquerade party. Fake . . .
Feather smiled and tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. The young girl was amazed that he'd fallen for it.
"That's my girl!" he said kindly, grinning. He turned to go and Megan watched him carefully, still aware of that thin sheet of ice hovering over his head.
"How strange . . ." she muttered to herself.
Meanwhile, Feather was having dark thoughts to himself.
"She still doesn't trust me . . . She won't tell me anything . . ."
He caught sight of Megan's grandmother washing dishes in the kitchen sink and gave her a faint smile. She returned it and went back to her chore. When the silver-tailed sorcerer had exited into his bedroom she turned off the water and frowned.
"Why do you keep so silent . . .?" the old woman wondered aloud, peering intently at the closed oak door.
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A/N: Hmm . . . a minor plot twist? Nah, it's not very important. The REAL plot twists are coming up later. One of them is REALLY weird . . . And I'm very happy 'cause I managed to stuff Megan in a chapter. She's a very important character. And also, Angel of Death 87, you're not EXACTLY right with your predictions but part of it is really close. I think you're starting to see where I'm going with some of this (thank heavens someone is. One of my friends is completely clueless as to where I'm heading with this story). Good job! And don't forget to read and review people! I just love reviews *hugs a review or two*
Interesting information about the names I chose:
Yorokobi means joy or delight in Japanese. Katei means home, family, or household in Japanese. Also, the names of Vivi's children are days of the week in Japanese ^_^ Nichio-Bi means Sunday, Getsuyo-Bi means Monday, Kayo- Bi means Tuesday, and Suiyo-Bi means (go figure) Wednesday. When the other kids play a part in this story they will be Thursday and Friday. I'm not sure if there will be a Saturday though because Vivi only has six kids *sweatdrop* And later on there will be other characters with Japanese names, so when I get to them I will fill you in on their meaning. Oh, and I'm not Japanese. I'm just good with dictionaries, hehe . . .
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is not my property. I merely live on it ^_-
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"Nichio-Bi, Getsuyo-Bi, Kayo-Bi, let's go inside. Come, come," Mikoto calmly ushered the little black mages into the house, trying to get them out of the rain before their coats got wet; not that they could beneath those enormous hats. She smiled kindly at Suiyo-Bi who was gazing longingly outside despite the oncoming storm.
"Now, now, Suiyo-Bi. Don't you want to look nice for Daddy?"
"I wanna go outside . . ." the little mage muttered wistfully.
But the genome didn't want the children to look too haggled when their father returned - which wouldn't be for several more days - so she gently guided Suiyo-Bi into the house with the others. Their father - Vivi - was still up in Alexandria, celebrating the return of his friend . . . and Mikoto's brother. She almost wished she could go up there and see him - it had been so long - but she didn't want to leave Master Vivi's children alone. And the other genomes depended on her. She had to teach them. And they were willing to learn.
Then again, they were always willing to learn . . . No matter what they were being taught . . .
When Mikoto finally had the last of the little tykes inside she took a step forward, prepared to follow them when suddenly -
BAM!
The door slammed shut right in her face. Mikoto froze and whipped around, blonde hair flying, tail poised warily in the air. A click told her that the door had locked from behind.
"What in the - mmf!"
A hand clapped over her mouth, silencing her immediately. Thinking fast, the third angel of death bit down hard. There was a cry and the mystery person let go of her face and cuffed the young girl hard, knuckles connecting with her right cheek. Mikoto yelped in pain and fell sideways from the blow.
She threw out her hands to catch herself and scraped her palms considerably as she tumbled into the dirt. Shaking her head to clear it, the blonde genome straightened up once more and began squinting around everywhere for her oppressor.
Her search was in vain . . .
There was no one around . . .
Frowning and thoroughly confused, Mikoto dragged herself to her feet, wiping her dirty, cut hands on her skirt. Had she just completely lost her mind . . .? But she could've sworn . . .
Gently the young girl touched the raw spot on her cheek. There was a throbbing bruise forming there . . . But how . . .?
The sharp point of a blade dug warningly into her back. Mikoto stiffened immediately. Her initial reaction was to retaliate, but she did not. Something deep inside told her to stay put.
"All right, missy," someone hissed snake-like in her ear, prodding her with the blade. "You've got till the count of three to turn around and come with me,"
Mikoto hesitated. The small pain in her back tightened. This was no ordinary weapon. She sensed great power within it . . .
"One . . ."
/Please let this be a joke./ Mikoto thought desperately, her mind searching frantically for a solution to the mess. What if the children looked out the window and saw?! She couldn't put them in that kind of danger! Thank heaven's for curtains . . .
"Two . . ."
/Okay, so maybe this isn't a joke . . . What am I going to do?! What does he want?! What would Zidane do?/
Well, that was obvious . . .
"Thr - "
"HIYA!" Mikoto whipped around screaming and high-kicked the weapon out of his hand with a devastating blow. The device was thrust out of his fingers. It flew off to the side and clattered upon the ground with a sharp clang, spiraling for a moment before coming to rest near the trunk of a nearby tree. A drop of rain landed upon the ground next to it leaving a dark wet spot upon the dirt. The clouds were beginning to fester overhead.
"What in the - " the man stared numbly at his empty hand, then up at Mikoto, his eyes dancing with surprise and perhaps a bit of fright. The young genome curled her lips, snarling. She'd never fought before, yet it just seemed to come naturally. Being an Angel of Death probably helped too . . .
Trying to defend herself, Mikoto charged at the enemy, shoving him hard in the chest and knocking him to the ground. He wheezed as his back made contact with dirt. Unfortunately, he countered by sweeping his foot low through the air and successfully knocking her feet out from under her. The genome tripped backwards and landed on her rump with a hard thud. The man sat up immediately and thrust out an arm, grabbing a tuft of her hair and pulling her head forward. She screamed and clawed at his face. A cry broke the air and she realized she'd made contact. Looking in astonishment at her fingernails she discovered, even more amazingly, that she'd drawn blood. A strange feeling of rage boiled over her. She'd never felt like that before. It was like a molten wrath was churning in her stomach. All she wanted to do was rip her opponent's heart out; no matter what it took. All logic fluttered out of her mind. This man was going down . . .
/Could this be how Kuja felt when he did all those terrible things?/
Noticing the young girl's hesitation the man seized his possibly only opportunity.
He lunged forward and shoved her backwards causing her to let out a frightened squeak of surprise. He immediately scrambled over her, pinning her upper arms down with his fingers and settling one leg on either side of her waist, locking her knees in place. She was trapped.
Like a panicked beast, the barrage of screams and cries escaped her throat as she twisted and turned beneath his grip.
"Sit . . . still!" the man groaned, trying to tame the struggling monster. She glared into his bright green eyes, noticing for the first time how truly green they were. Electric green, reminding her thoroughly of glistening jade-stones.
Letting out an agitated growl, Mikoto managed to yank one of her legs out of his strangle-hold and kick him where the sun don't shine. She took advantage of his agony to roll over him, locking his own arms and legs in place, much the same way he had done with her. She growled, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Who are you and what are you doing in our village?!" she demanded, grabbing his oak hair in one hand and yanking as hard as she could. He, in turn, bared his teeth at her and spat bitterly in her face. She jerked her head out of the way and it missed.
Three lines of blood were running down the man's cheek, oozing towards the collar of his shirt. It was the first time Mikoto had ever noticed his clothes. They were strange.
Her attention was suddenly drawn away from his outfit as cold metal pressed sharply against her throat causing the skin there to twitch convulsively in response. The genome froze, tightening her grip on the man's arms. Looking down she saw, much to her surprise, that not only was there a dagger prepared to slice her head off, but the man she was holding down had an identical dagger being held to his neck too. His eyes were watering with fear.
"Put the man down . . ." someone hissed in Mikoto's ear, the dagger pressing just a little harder against her skin as if warning her to do as she was told. The eleven-year-old gulped and slowly loosened her grip upon the man's arms, trying to hold her fingers steady. His hands dropped limply out of her reach and fell back to his sides. Gaining control over his appendages once more, the man began feverishly wiping at the blood on his face, fearfully staring at the weapon poised by his jugular.
Mikoto's blue eyes flashed in the direction of whomever was threatening to kill her, but she couldn't see them. With a dangerous glint, the dagger withdrew from her neck. She would have relaxed except that someone grabbed her wrists and pinned them painfully against her back, seizing her roughly off the ground, and dragging her up by her short blonde hair. Mikoto cried out, afraid the locks were going to be ripped right out of her head.
A male voice from somewhere nearby began talking swiftly, a cocky deadliness to his tone.
"Hold her off until I'm finished. Don't let her get away,"
"Of course," a female voice responded, tinged with glee. Someone smacked Mikoto hard across the face causing her head to snap to the side. She began thrashing wildly.
"Stand down you brat!"
Mikoto began to struggle worse, kicking her legs ferociously. She was slapped once more; harder this time. It seemed only to fuel her rage further.
/If only I could use magic! I'd blast these assholes straight to Esto Gaza!/
"If you don't hold still, I will kill you," the woman whispered dangerously near the young genome's face, the words gurgling with venom. Mikoto scowled, hissing angrily. However, common sense took its toll and she relented, relaxing slightly in the uncomfortable position. Despite her "good behavior" the grip upon her wrists and hair was not alleviated in the least. Mikoto didn't doubt that they would kill her. Instead, she turned her eyes upon her previous attacker who was still lying on his back upon the ground, breathing heavily. Whoever had been holding the dagger to his throat had slipped away before Mikoto even had a chance to see them. It struck the young girl as strange that she had been unable to keep her eyes on any of these people. How was that possible?
"Master . . ." the man thrown across the ground whimpered, still rubbing at his scratched face. A deep purple was beginning to form around the cut marks. "Master . . . please . . ."
"Silence," someone snapped. A new weapon replaced the dagger by his neck. It took Mikoto a minute to register that it was the weapon she'd been jabbed in the back with before. She'd completely forgotten about it.
"Master . . . I would have gotten her . . . ! Really!"
He received a harsh kick in the side. The man groaned in agony, his green eyes squeezing shut in pain.
"Who - told - you - you - could - use - my - weapon . . .?" the "master" whispered dangerously, annunciating every word carefully. His voice sent shivers down Mikoto's spine.
"Master . . . I'm so sorry . . . But I thought . . ."
"I know what you thought. And you thought wrong. He does not want that to be done just yet you ill-breed fool! You could have ruined everything! How dare you attempt something like that on your own without my permission! The consequences will be harsh . . . yet most fitting. Don't you agree?"
"Master!"
"No? Hmm . . . Lulian!"
"Yes?" Mikoto heard the woman holding her from behind respond.
"Take Ummei back to The Indomitable and give him a lashing he'll never forget when we're done. Show him a good time . . ."
"Of course. With pleasure," there was a giggle of mirth near Mikoto's ear. She felt bile rising in her throat, topped with disgust.
The grip on her wrists was shifted slightly and Mikoto was suddenly able to twist her neck around and get a clear view of "the Master." All she saw before she was jerked back into place was a pair of leering green eyes and a cold, icy smirk. His pupils were the same voltaic green as Ummei's. But they were much, much scarier. . .
Suddenly, Mikoto felt the weapon that had been jabbing her in the back before, jabbing her in the back again. The feeling was disturbingly familiar. It made her shudder.
"Another one bites the dust . . ."
"Hee hee . . ."
There was a sharp, searing pain like flames through Mikoto's body and a veil of black was pulled over her eyes as all consciousness was lost . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The town of Katei was quiet, the setting of the sun soothing the tucked-in town into an almost whimsical lullaby of silence. But there was one who would get no peace that night . . .
"Megan . . ." a voice whispered, seeping through the young girl's thoughts. "Megan . . ."
Megan looked up from the couch where she had been sitting, quietly reading a thick novel perched upon her lap.
"What?"
"Megan . . . The newspaper . . . tomorrow . . . Read it . . ."
Megan frowned, staring into the dim shadows of the living room. Somehow, the mysterious voice sounded a little less mysterious when talking about newspapers.
"Uh . . ." she didn't know what to say. A tingling sensation went up her spine as if fingers were trailing ghost-like up her back.
"Feather, is this some kind of trick?!" the young girl snapped, starting to get angry and upset that he would pull something as cruel as that on her. He had always seemed like such a sweet, kind man. A harsh chuckle ran through her psyche.
"Don't you know . . .?" it whispered, taunting her.
"Know what?" Megan insisted suspiciously. There was a moment of silence before the deep, harsh voice curled itself around her mind once more.
"I've seen what you've seen . . ."
Megan froze, numbly dropping the book onto the seat-cushion next to her.
"Wh-who are you?!" she called, beginning to feel frightened. "Is this some sort of sick joke?!"
"This is no joke. This is reality. And everything you saw will be . . ."
"What kind of sick fucker are you?!" Megan screamed, jumping to her feet and balling her fists angrily.
"Ha, ha, ha . . . What will you do when it all happens? Hmm?"
The frightened woman looked around wildly. For some reason she wanted to just curl up and cry into someone's shoulder. She began to call out desperately.
"Mom! Grandma! Feather! Someone!" she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her incessant shaking. "Please! Anyone!" she buried her face in her hands, trying to block out the phantom laughter. The next thing she knew, a pair of warm fingers were gently brushing her hair out of her face and someone was holding her tight, rocking her silently. Megan sniffled and looked up to find herself staring into a pair of deep blue eyes.
"Feather . . .?" she whispered, blinking back tears.
"Shh . . ." the silver-haired man cooed, wiping a salty tear away from her cheek and smoothing his thumb over it. "What's wrong? Why were you crying?"
Megan buried her face in his warm embrace, clutching him tightly. She wanted to tell him how horrible it was . . . But . . . somehow she didn't think that telling him she had heard voices talking about newspapers in her head would slide over too well. Instead, she muttered "It was nothing . . ." and pulled back, taking a deep breath. He watched her quietly, contemplating how many ways she could possibly be lying to him.
"Feather," Megan began, gazing quietly out the open window into the crisp morning air. "When you were having nightmares . . . What were they about?" she wondered if they were anything like her own. Feather laughed, his voice tinged with a slight coldness. Megan had been noticing that more lately. The coldness. She wondered if it was because something had changed; or if everything from before had merely been an act. She knew nothing about him . . . even after two and a half years . . .
"They were pointless," the young man responded, shaking his head. "Just flicks of memory . . . from my past . . ."
Megan looked up sharply and Feather gave her an annoyed look.
"Oh, please! You know I don't have amnesia!" he scoffed, thinking back on the conversation he'd had with Mrs. Yorokobi. Megan blushed.
"I-I'm sorry . . ."
"No, it doesn't matter," Feather chimed. "What's important is that you're all right,"
"I'm fine!" Megan exclaimed, trying to put on the most chipper face possible.
It looked like an expression from a masquerade party. Fake . . .
Feather smiled and tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. The young girl was amazed that he'd fallen for it.
"That's my girl!" he said kindly, grinning. He turned to go and Megan watched him carefully, still aware of that thin sheet of ice hovering over his head.
"How strange . . ." she muttered to herself.
Meanwhile, Feather was having dark thoughts to himself.
"She still doesn't trust me . . . She won't tell me anything . . ."
He caught sight of Megan's grandmother washing dishes in the kitchen sink and gave her a faint smile. She returned it and went back to her chore. When the silver-tailed sorcerer had exited into his bedroom she turned off the water and frowned.
"Why do you keep so silent . . .?" the old woman wondered aloud, peering intently at the closed oak door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Hmm . . . a minor plot twist? Nah, it's not very important. The REAL plot twists are coming up later. One of them is REALLY weird . . . And I'm very happy 'cause I managed to stuff Megan in a chapter. She's a very important character. And also, Angel of Death 87, you're not EXACTLY right with your predictions but part of it is really close. I think you're starting to see where I'm going with some of this (thank heavens someone is. One of my friends is completely clueless as to where I'm heading with this story). Good job! And don't forget to read and review people! I just love reviews *hugs a review or two*
Interesting information about the names I chose:
Yorokobi means joy or delight in Japanese. Katei means home, family, or household in Japanese. Also, the names of Vivi's children are days of the week in Japanese ^_^ Nichio-Bi means Sunday, Getsuyo-Bi means Monday, Kayo- Bi means Tuesday, and Suiyo-Bi means (go figure) Wednesday. When the other kids play a part in this story they will be Thursday and Friday. I'm not sure if there will be a Saturday though because Vivi only has six kids *sweatdrop* And later on there will be other characters with Japanese names, so when I get to them I will fill you in on their meaning. Oh, and I'm not Japanese. I'm just good with dictionaries, hehe . . .