A/N: Yes! I'm alive! Another from Gennie's P.O.V.! Watch out for language because Genma is naughty with words.

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places - worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere - going nowhere

Mad World---Gary Jules

Genma slammed another bottle down on the rough wooden table, causing the liquid inside it to slosh around wildly. Some of it spilled, but he didn't care.

Taking another swig, he winced at the bitter aftertaste and felt the sake trace a flaming path down his throat. The burning sensation went all the way to his stomach, where a mini-whirlpool of fire raged inside. He suspected that the only thing that was preventing it all from going back up where it came from was that he kept forcing more down at the same time.

He set the sake bottle back on the tabletop with much more force than was needed, making another crack in the already badly-cracked and splintered surface of the table. He ignored that. Someone jostled into him from behind and cursed loudly, but he ignored that too.

Tonight was just one of those nights, when he was sick of the world, sick with himself, sick of everything. Just another one of those nights that he took the cowardly course and chose to escape from all his frustrations through the simple means of getting so damn drunk that he forgot all about them, and the Firedancer was the best place to do it.

Shit, he never thought of himself as some hero. Hell no. He'd taken this way out numerous times before, and he'd do so again. He wasn't proud of all the times he'd tried to drink his problems away, but he didn't stop, either.

The bottle was almost touching his lips again when he felt a soft pressure on his arm. He looked up.

"Hey," the saucy barmaid greeted flirtatiously, though there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "Haven't seen you around lately."

Genma shook off her hand with a barely-concealed growl. He wasnt in the mood for this. Not now. Any other time, he would have been thrilled to have this cheeky young blonde hit on him, but tonight, he felt only irritation.

"Don't be like that," the girl said, biting her bottom lip in what she probably thought was a cute manner. "I knew you were checking me out a couple of nights ago. I was wondering why you didn't drop by yesterday."

He shrugged in reply.

"I went home early yesterday, you know,"

He bit down on his own mouth in order to refrain himself from making a scathing comment.

"--in case you dropped by and didn't see me."

Leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone. He repeated it over and over in his mind while continuing to meet her entreaties with silence, hoping that she would get the hint and leave.

If she got the hint, though, she didn't take it. Instead, she sidled up to him and put her cheek against his shoulder.

Genma closed his eyes, willing his temper not to break, and started counting silently to ten. One.

"Why won't you answer me?"

Two.

"You can talk to me, you know. I'll listen."

Three.

"...But it's okay if you don't want to talk."

Four.

"You're so tense..." She started tracing a finger across his shoulderblades.

Five.

She lowered her voice an octave. "I could help you relax."

Six. How old is this girl, anyway? He wondered idly.

"Why don't you come to my place?" she continued in a suggestive tone.

Seven. "Old enough," another part of him answered.

"Come on. It'll be fun..."

Eight.

"If you want more drinks, I have some there."

Nine.

"C'mon...What do you say?"

...Ten!

He stood up so suddenly that his chair toppled over. Tossing a few bills carelessly onto the table, he turned to leave. The barmaid hastily stood up as well, and he would have brushed past her without a word if he hadn't accidentally caught the look on her face.

Despite all the suggestive comments earlier, her face held such a vulnerable expression it nearly made him wince. He hadn't really been looking at her at all, and now that he was, he remembered why she had caught his attention in the first place. Those big doll-like blue eyes set into that sweet, youthful--even innocent--face...not to mention that great body...

He felt his resolve slipping away. The alcohol wasn't doing it's job--Or is it? Am I still sober or does she only look this good because I just wasted about a quarter of this month's fuckin' salary on some of the strongest shit in the damn place?--He could do with another distraction--Maybe I should take her up on offer--No, he already told himself that he wasn't in the mood--

But she was looking at him so expectantly, and her wide blue eyes held so much promise...

Very slowly, each second stretching into eternity, she forced open her eyes--

...and immediately wished she hadn't.

She didn't even had the strength to gasp as all her senses returned in a violent flood of sensation; she could now acutely feel every bruise, every scrape and stratch, every bump and cut and burn, while the scorching sun beat mercilessly upon her brow. The heat was unbearable, and she could feel what little strength she had regained begin to sap away under the sun's unrelenting rays.

Her mouth was dry. She worked up some saliva and spat. Her spittle was tinged with red and some yellowish stuff she recognized to be congealed blood. Tentatively, she ran her tongue over her lower lip and found a cut there. She tried moving her fingers, but they weren't responding very well. After a few more tries, she gave up. Too tired to do anything else, she lay there, panting, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. She must have been hit somewhere near her ribcage before she fell unconcious. She tried to remember what she was doing before she blacked out, but couldn't recall much other than a faint image of a large two-headed snake headed her way...

Pat. Pat. Pat.

She froze.

--Pat. Pat. Pat.

Someone was coming.

Pat. Pat.

The footsteps drew nearer. They were so soft that she doubted she would have heard them if she hadn't happened to lose conscience with her ear plastered right against the ground.

I cannot be found. Not here...not like this...

Her eyelids suddenly seemed so heavy. She struggled to keep them open, but it was a losing battle. The scene before her blurred...vague shapes floated around...the grass seemed to grow out of the sky. Trees bended in bizarre forms...a pair of black boots suddenly loomed out of nowehere, peeking out underneath the edge of a red-patterned black cloak...the pattern seemed change and undulate with each second.

The last thing she heard before she slipped back into darkness was a voice, cold, steady, and calculating.

"Wait. This one could be useful..."

A/N: Oh gawd. I'm updating again. shock
As usual, all reviews will be extremely helpful. I know there's gotta be a handful of problems in this one...I felt like I was drunk myself while I was writing this.

Sake - Japanese Rice wine.