(A/N)The return of a familiar face or lack of, if you know what I'm talking about. This is again a tiny detour from the primary storyline, but it explains and plays a major role in the story.
This chapter is dedicated to hvonm06: my 100th reviewer!
Enjoy! ;)
A Star Without Light
Dear Diary, Saturday, May 28
I know I haven't written in a while so let me explain. After Xana was cured, our lives became what we'd always wanted them to be: normal. Ever since that talk Ulrich and I had, we've become the friends that we were months ago. I no longer care where he was when he left. All that's important to me now is that he's here with me now.
I can't wait! Tonight is my first official date with Ulrich. I still can't decide what I should wear. We're going to the Royal Knight's Temple for a movie, and something else afterward. I wish I knew what he was planning for tonight but he's got me clueless as to what is going to happen.
Things haven't really changed these past few months. The most drastic would have to have been my leaving Theo. I'm glad he took it as quietly as he did. Odd's changed a little. He's writing songs and music now. Some of his songs seemed to have some real potential. Everyone else is pretty much the same.
Well, I gotta go. My date has arrived.
YumiReplacing her diary safely under her mattress, Yumi heard the doorbell ring. Digging desperately through her dresser, she pulled a familiar black shirt over her. Grabbing a new wallet, she stuffed it and her phone into her pockets. Rushing downstairs, she cursed her poor ability to keep track of time.
Because this was their date, Yumi had wanted to leave a lasting impression on both of them. The hours went by like minutes and the setting sun soon cast a blinding glare through her window. It rudely brought her back to reality. Now, she was stuck going with only her casual dress style.
Meeting him at the door, Yumi could only stare at Ulrich. He looked like a different person. Over the past few months, he had let his hair grow quite long with only an occasional trim. Now he had the back of his head and temples cut down to almost the skin. His hair on top had been cut to only little more than an inch or so. He still wore his bandana, but only out of habit. But what brought a small sigh of relief from her was that he too wore his usual clothes.
Smiling at his stoic face, Yumi walked off the porch. She had grown to see through his mask and what she saw now was very pleasing. He was happy, slightly nervous, but quite eager.
"Hi," she said.
Taking her hand gently, Ulrich walked by her side down the driveway and to the sidewalk. Mrs. Ishiyama watched the young couple momentarily from a window. Her daughter was had finally accepted her feelings and she was certainly growing out of her innocence. Smiling slightly, she withdrew and relived her own happy memories from her own experiences.
-
They walked quietly down the darkening streets. In the distance loomed the theater. The street was almost deserted except for a crowd of teenagers that were immediately ahead of them. Their features were undistinguishable in the gathering gloom and shadows cast down on them from the streetlight that stood under. As they walked ever closer, the smell of cigarette smoke, reflections of beer bottles, and half slurred sentences assailed them.
A sudden feeling of uneasy washed over Ulrich. He glanced at Yumi, hoping that she was feeling the same. She only had a pleasant smile on her face and held his hand fondly.
"Yumi," he said, slowing his walk slightly. "Let's go this way." He indicated around the line of parked cars and trucks that the group was by.
"Why?" she asked.
"Hey, babe," said a teenager. Smoke blew out of his mouth and in his fingers burned a cigarette. Caught up in his unnatural high, the young man misjudged the stoic and disgusted faces of the kids. "Want to have a taste of paradise?"
"Thanks," she said clearly. "But I've got more important things to do."
"'But'?" he said. Bringing the cancer stick to his lips he said, "Did you say 'but'?"
"Yes, she did," Ulrich said forcefully. He watched as the group began to encircle them. "Now, why don't you make like a tree and leave?"
"Oh," said another teenager. "Isn't that clever?"
"That's about as funny as a screen door on a battleship," said a third.
"Screen door on a submarine, you dork," Yumi corrected. She tried to pull Ulrich and herself from the group but they pushed them back.
"Nobody says 'no' to the Black Rangers," slurred a tall drunk.
Rough hands separated the duo. Ulrich was thrown out of the group as intrusive hands besieged Yumi. If they weren't grabbing at her chest, they were gripping her butt.
"Get away from me!" she yelled.
"Ooh!" the teenagers cooed. "We've got a fighter here."
"Leave her alone, you bastards!" roared Ulrich as he fought to reach Yumi.
All he succeeded in doing was attracting the attention of the smokers. Breaking away from the group, they circled him. One grabbed his shirt and held him tightly from behind. The four others then took turns pummeling his unprotected abdomen and chest. Ulrich took the blows quietly, despite the pain. But with each punch, his anger grew.
Looking up from a particularly vicious jab, he spit out blood that had gathered in his mouth. "Is that the best you can do?"
"No," smirked one. Then, to prove his point, the boy slammed his fist into Ulrich's gut with considerable force. Slumping in the arms of his captor, Ulrich fought back the tears of pain and hatred.
"Let's get rid of this trash," said his captor. "Jack and the others are having all the fun." Yumi suddenly yelp seemed to prove his point.
"Alright," said another. "Let's put him with the rest of the garbage."
Yumi had been backed up against the lamppost. From her position, she couldn't help but watch as the boy's dragged Ulrich's body into a nearby alley. As they vanished from light of the streetlight, she heard a dumpster top being slammed. The five were quick to return.
"Nice cell there," one of the thugs now held onto her phone.
"I've got her wallet."
"Help!"
"Give up, girl," snarled one into her ear. "Nobody will help you. Nobody can hear you."
The shattering of the streetlight and tsunami of darkness instantly followed the whisking of metal through the air. Yumi and the gang stopped their struggles instantaneously. Seconds later, Yumi felt something solid bounce lightly off her shoulder and land with a loud clang on the concrete.
"I'm only want to say this once," growled a voice from behind the gang dangerously. "Let her go, now!"
As one, Yumi and the gang turned to see the source of the threat. There, in the shadows nearby, stood the familiar dark silhouette of a boy Yumi hadn't seen for months. However, unlike her previous encounters, Yumi could see his hair flapping in the breeze.
"Who are you to tell us what to do, boy?"
"I'd do as he says," Yumi said, trying not to smile. She knew what was coming; these punks wouldn't stand a chance.
"Shuttup, bitch!" snapped a drunk. A hand flew through the air and slapped Yumi's face to side.
As the sting was beginning to set in, she barely heard a curse from the boy. "You, creep… You just made a big mistake."
"Get him!" shouted one of the teenagers.
Ten of the gang rushed forward. The boy grabbed his katana and swung it into a defense stance. Yumi almost yelled at the boy to stop. She may have despised these drunks, but she didn't what them to be killed, or have him be a murderer. Then she realized that he hadn't unsheathed the deadly blade.
Swinging his katana and scabbard like a club, the warrior decimated the ten quickly. With light jabs and pokes at the body's pressure points, the boys dropped like flies. Sweeping his leg out, the boy tripped a particularly resilient teenager. Landing roughly on his shoulder, he screamed in agony a moment later. His shoulder was broken, but his delayed reaction was credit to his artificial high.
Facing the remaining gang, the boy said, "Let her go."
One of the teenagers reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol. Yumi's eyes lit up in fear as he pointed it at the small warrior. This warrior may be unusually strong and fast, but she doubted that he could dodge a bullet.
"No," said the teenager. "I'm telling you: fuck off!"
The warrior's glare never wavered as he slowly unsheathed his katana. Dropping the scabbard, he dropped into an aggressive stance. For a moment, no one moved. Then, suddenly, the warrior shifted his weight to the side. Half a second later a gunshot erupted from the pistol.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Yumi watched. The boy's katana flashed through the air. A loud clash of steel on lead rang out down street. Then a following scream of surprise and pain as metal sounded off metal again. The pistol dropped to the ground in pieces as the teenager grasped his hands. The shock of the sudden impact on his pistol sent numbing sensations throughout his hand. The teenagers looked at the warrior. Expressions of shock, surprise, and hatred were written on their faces like the cover of a book.
"How did you do that?"
"You're not human."
"Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"
The boy ignored their comments as he picked up his scabbard. Sheathing the blade, repositioned it on his waist. He faced his adversaries with crossed arms. "This is your last chance. Let her go."
"Yeah," said several of them. "Sure, whatever you say."
Yumi was pushed forward slightly. As she was almost out of the group, a rough hand grabbed her shoulder. Pulled her forcefully back into the mob, she watched as a tall, brawny boy stepped forward.
"Let me go!" she shrieked.
"Quiet, missy," hissed a teenager almost gently.
"If you want her," said the muscle bound punk. "Then, you'll have to beat me."
Walking forward, the punk looked down on the boy. He barely came up to his waist. Looming over him, the punk tried to see whom he was fighting exactly. But the shadows were covering his face in such a way that he couldn't make out away distinguishing features.
"I don't wanna fight you," the warrior said indifferently. "It wouldn't be fair."
"Oh really?" said the punk. "Well, I got news for you. We don't fight by the rules. Don't worry, this'll only hurt a lot."
Staring coldly up at the tyrant, the warrior said, "You will fall after one punch."
"Oh yeah?" growled the punk. This kid's cool, confident head was really starting to irritate him. "Prove it!"
Fast as he could, the punk leaned back and threw his leg at the boy's stomach. Ducking under the kick, the boy slammed his fist into the tender area of his crotch. For a split second, the punk just stood there. Then erupted in spasms of agony as he fell face first to the dirt, clutching his screaming Achilles' heel.
Backing away from the punk, he faced the remaining group. Reaching into a pocket of his pants, he extracted a small object. "You've tried my patience long enough."
Throwing the object to the ground under them, a giant smoke cloud erupted around them. Yumi knelt to the ground, coughing through the smoke. Then the teens suddenly screamed in pain. The fleshy impacts of knuckles connecting with faces, chests, and abdomens quickly overrode their screams.
As the smoke finally cleared moments later, Yumi beheld an astonishing sight. The teenagers were all thrown into a pile and bound tightly by their wrists and ankles to each other. Looking around, she searched for her savior but he had vanished yet again.
-
Red and blue lights danced around the street. Illuminated by headlights, the police wrestled the teenagers into a bus. Leaning against the broken streetlight, Yumi watched the entire ordeal from her sitting position. Serves them right.
As her gaze drifted over to Ulrich, she sighed in relief yet again. She had felt that the teenagers had killed him when she saw them drag him into the shadows. She found him in the dumpster unconscious. Now he was being wrapped in bandages for his growing bruises and bleeding cuts.
An officer stood over her, questioning her. "And this person just disappeared?"
Nodding, she hugged her knees to her chest. She'd told the officer this story twice. He just couldn't believe it because of a few details, particularly of the boy batting a bullet like a baseball. However, he couldn't argue; the officers had found all the evidence, including the demolished the pistol.
"Hey, Sergeant!" called an officer. "We've got a lively one here." The Sergeant left to aid his officer with the boy who was resisting.
Dropping her hands to her sides, Yumi brushed against something sharp. Carefully lifting it up, she brought it toward the light. It was a six-pronged star the size of her palm. With a start she realized what role it played in the entire episode; it had shattered the streetlight.
If Yumi had been even the least bit curious of the boy's 'past,' she was no longer. She knew it was him. It was he from the Royal Knights' Temple and from the factory.
He's back.
(A/N) For those of you who are a little slower in the cranium usage or just aren't paying that much attention: this is a vital clue for you before I reveal the remaining surprises.
Reread The Weak Link. There are minor clues scattered throughout its length that will point out the answers of your remaining questions.
In fact, I'll take it a step farther:
There is an enormous clue in the chapter: A Strange Presence. There is something in there that normal people wouldn't know unless they looked it up, like me.
Let's see if some of you smarter people can find it!