Warning: AU, Fantasy, R rated, Ran/Ken eventually (vay,vay in de future).
Author's Note: I updated early for Mondtanz who didn't want to miss a chapter, but had to make a plain! Hope this is early enough!
Yay! Part Two!! Enter Ran! Now, for some reason I have this vision in my head of Ran and Yohji being gentlemen, and so they are in this story as well. I can't explain it, but hopefully this'll get it out of my system. The same could be said about Ken as a servant. Hmmm. Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: Weiss belongs to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss.
First Born of the Thirteenth House
Part 2: Ran (a)
Lord Ran Fujimiya looked out the window of his coach as it flew through the gate high above the Thirteenth House and he glared. Below him, nestled on a small rise overlooking the valley and backed right up to the cliff of a ravine, stood the Thirteenth House. It wasn't so oddly situated with its yards, gardens and out buildings on three sides surrounded by high stone walls, and the cliff falling down into the ravine on the fourth. Very similar to the First House in fact. Its eight stories and one tower reached skyward from within its stone walls, beyond which were the woods which covered the mountain except where they'd been cleared for farming. It was by no means the largest of the thirteen Great Houses, but it wasn't the smallest either.
At one time the five border houses had been among the most prominent and important. They'd stood as the first line of defense against invasion. But those times were far in the past, and each had declined in prestige in the years since the peace was declared.
Ran's eyes flicked from the house to the ravine and the jagged forested ridge beyond. Just over that tree line lay their nearest neighbor and one time enemy. However, those days were long gone and the prestige of the border houses had sunk with their importance. But none had sunk as low as this one.
The taciturn red-head looked down on the house again. The view was nearer as the coach descended through the misty air toward the yard, leaving the sky somewhat reluctantly it seemed. He supposed in the spring and summer the house might not look too bad with its gardens in bloom, or in the fall with the right light and the changing leaves of the woods. But at the moment it was winter. The house appeared bleak. Dark and brooding against the white of the snow and the dark line of trees on the ridge in the distance.
As the coach sunk lower Ran sighed. He was facing the culmination of three months of travel and months of work before that. Well over a year ago rumors had surfaced of an uncomfortable nature concerning the Thirteenth House and its loyalty to the First House and the royal family. It was said that alliances were being sought outside the kingdom in an attempt to improve its power base and rebuild its prestige. The King was not happy, but the Crown Prince had convinced him that a cautious approach would be best. A soft touch could return the House to its intended course with little or no embarrassment to anyone.
Ran had to agree. So, a spy had been sent into a position of service. The regular reports hadn't been promising and Ran had been sent after. Over the last three months he'd visited each of the other four border houses under the guise of setting up a royal tour to take place the following summer. All so he could visit this house and report back to the King on how bad things really were, and if possible, put things to rights.
As the coach dropped lower toward its landing Ran noticed the occupants of the house being emptied out into the yard and arranged by various courtiers. He sighed again and focused on the coach's wall opposite him. He needed to contact Aya while he still had quiet enough to do so.
Releasing a deep breath he let his eyes slip shut. With a little effort the door in his mind opened. His sister's bubbly thoughts touched his stoic ones and he couldn't help but smile. Aya's mood was rarely dampened. Her endless good cheer acted as a bookend to his darker more somber moods.
"So, you've finally arrived. Now your true work begins," she thought.
"You don't have to remind me," he replied. "I can feel animosity already and we haven't even landed yet."
"Be careful, Ran," she thought sounding suddenly serious. "This time I'm nervous."
"Don't be. I'll be fine, and soon I'll be home. I miss you."
"I miss you too," and he could almost see her sad smile, which suddenly turned cheeky. "And poor Prince Youji has been pining away for you as well."
Ran snorted and a sarcastic laugh escaped him.
"Getting away from his royal pain in the ass has been one of the few benefits of this trip," he thought.
Her giggle tickled in his mind.
"I'll send him your warmest regards," she mentally smirked. "Be careful, Niisan. I love you and I'll be awaiting your next connection."
"Love you too," he thought and closed the door.
He shook off the momentary headache that always followed their communications. It was their unique ability that allowed them to be of service to the King and his family. Since the death of their parents they'd been wards of the royal family who'd originally thought they'd be useful for marriages of alliance. That had been before they revealed their gift which had greatly altered the King's ideas. So their importance was assured and so was their freedom. There would be no arranged marriages.
Ran was jarred from his thoughts by first the horses and then the coach touching down on the hard stones of the courtyard. Stifling a groan he began straightening his clothes and schooling his expression. He knew exactly what to expect. His reception had been the same at each of the other houses. Initial excitement over a royal visitor, followed closely by dismay when he was the only one, and a renewal of interest when it was learned that he was a ward of the King. The women in particular had shown great interest in his attention, his hand, and his bed. Unfortunately, current circumstances forbade him from entertaining any of the interested parties even if he'd wanted to. Which added to his work as he tried to gracefully get out of all possible entanglements.
The coach came to a halt. The door was opened, the steps lowered, and Ran emerged into the white light of an overcast winter afternoon. As he had expected there was a general lack of enthusiasm when no one followed him, but the nobles rallied and Lord Hidaka stepped forward, his wife at his side.
Ran sized up the man who's intrigues had demanded his visit. He wasn't old, only in his middle years, but his appearance belied his age, suggesting a hard and haggard life not one of privilege. He stood with a slight stoop, as if he carried a great weight on his shoulders. His rich brown hair was shot through with gray as was his beard. The brown eyes which wearily met Ran's were creased and crinkled at the corners. His face was hard and hawk like, but did not appear unkind. In his hands he nervously squeezed what appeared to be a cap. The Lord approached Ran and bowed.
"Sir," he said, his voice heavy, "may I ask who I have the pleasure of addressing?"
Ran bowed low and tempered his cold expression.
"My name is Lord Ran Fujimiya, ward to King Renjiro and Queen Kimiko. I am charged by my sovereign to travel the boarder and prepare the way for a royal tour," he announced in his deep clear voice, which echoed nicely off the face of the house. "Have you not been told of my coming?"
"We had heard a rumor or two, but are pleasantly surprised to find they are true. You are most warmly welcome, Sir. Please, come and enter my home," Lord Hidaka said opening his arms.
"Thank you, Sir. I accept your invitation," Ran replied and the two embraced.
There was a smattering of applause from those assembled. Ran had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He knew very well that they'd known about his eventual arrival as soon as he'd left the First House, and had probably been preparing for the last three months. He hated these frivolous shows of deportment. They were ridiculous contrivances that kept everyone out in the cold too long. One quick glance around the courtyard confirmed that most, if not all, of those present were underdressed. The servants were shivering and several ladies' lips were blue, including Lady Hidaka's.
Ran mentally reminded himself that he didn't care whether anyone was cold or not and continued with the charade of welcome.
"My wife, Lady Hidaka," the Lord said motioning her over.
The Lady took Ran's hand and curtsied as he kissed it.
"M-m-my Lord," she said valiantly fighting her chattering teeth, "you are welcome. I hope you find comfort here."
"Thank you, my Lady," he replied.
"My eldest son, Takashi," Lord Hidaka said placing his cap back on his head.
Ran and the tall brunette with narrowed, suspicious eyes bowed severely to one another. In seconds Ran took a measure of the young man facing him, his senior by perhaps a year or two. Here at least was one source of the animosity he'd picked up on earlier. He tucked the information away and returned his attention to Lord Hidaka. Before either could speak they were startled by a loud sneeze and several muffled coughs.
"My Lord," Ran said addressing his host, "may I humbly beg a continuation of these pleasantries inside? I have been fighting a slight cold."
Lord Hidaka stiffened and his jaw set.
"Of course, my Lord," he said bowing.
As he turned to lead Ran inside he cast an angry glare around the yard at those assembled. He thrust his arm out to his wife and began marching them toward the door. Ran sighed and followed. He was almost inside when a peculiar tingling at the back of his neck made him pause. Seeking out the cause of the sensation he was surprised to discover he was being quietly inspected, as if by one of his magic tutors. The touch lasted no more than a moment then was gone, but in its wake it left an emptiness and longing he'd never experienced before.
"My Lord?"
Ran started and bowed to Lord Hidaka who'd turned back halfway through the doorway when he'd noticed Ran had stopped following.
"My apologies, my Lord," he said and risked a quick glance around the yard. He was met by only blank faces and shrugging entered the House.
Ken snuffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Good timing, lad," commented an elderly footman on his way back inside.
Ken didn't reply. He fell into step with the other servants as they began to move toward the door and the relief it offered from the cold. The sneeze hadn't been intentional despite the ire he felt about being dragged outside and made to stand in the chill winter air. All this silliness over one nobleman sent from the King was ridiculous. Even the man himself seemed relieved to be going in. In all his twelve years of service he'd never seen such a display. Of course, in all those years they'd never been visited by anyone of consequence.
Ken recalled the image of the tall stranger who had just entered the House. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but certainly not the exotic looking creature that had emerged from the coach. His skin was almost as white as the snow, which made his mane of red hair seem even more brilliant. He wore it short around his face, his bangs swept more to the left than the right, but it fell long down his back woven into a braid that nearly reached his waist. And his eyes. Had they really been violet? Like glittering gems. Ken had never seen anyone with red hair and violet eyes before. Nor had he seen anyone dressed as finely as this man. Or anyone who carried themselves so regally.
Snapping out of his thoughts as he entered the House with the rest of the throng he became aware that he was not alone in his impressions. All around him women and men huddled together exchanging similar thoughts in hushed voices. They had all sensed it as well, the power and importance of this man. His thin frame and broad shoulders spoke of strength, and his graceful movements of speed.
Ken had accidentally reached out to him, almost on instinct, to see whether his power came from magic. He'd startled himself and had pulled back when he realized what he was doing. He'd never done that before and wasn't even sure how he'd done it. And the stranger had felt it somehow. Ken shivered at the memory of that touch, but shook it off. Whatever power this exotic man possessed it wasn't of a magical nature. There was a little magic in the man, but very little. Not enough to be of consequence to anyone.
Ken shrugged again as he moved out of the mass of people and toward the wood sheds. He was no expert, but that little drop of magic couldn't harm a flutter bug. No, the man's power came from somewhere else. Personality perhaps. There had never been anyone so self possessed around the House. Except perhaps Chancellor Weston.
Pausing, Ken thought about that. No, the stranger obviously relied on his own skill, whatever that maybe, while Weston was at heart a coward.
Ken felt the familiar anger boil up inside him. It'd been seven years since he'd kicked Tris's murderer down the stairs and still Weston refused to be without his personal guard. If the villain truly thought his partner's death was more than an accident then why didn't he seek out the cause? Ken was more than ready for him.
"Coward," Ken spat as he crouched to begin stacking wood into his carrier.
He continued to mutter in frustration. By now he was more than a match for Weston, all that remained was opportunity. That continued to elude him. Weston's stubborn insistence on guards irked the young man to no end. He was sure he could handle them too, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. They were only following orders. And there was the realization that the amount of noise which was sure to result from such an attack would undoubtedly attract attention. Ken rather liked the idea of killing the man and getting away clean with no one the wiser. So he would have to continue to wait and try to be patient.
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Ran tried not to sigh into his wine as yet another entree was laid before him accompanied by the fluttering of the serving girl's eyelashes. She was hardly alone. Over the course of the meal he'd been winked at, brushed against, repeatedly touched, and openly groped at least once. Although accustomed to unwanted attention he'd never seen lust so openly acted upon. Most astonishing was that it wasn't just the nobility, but the serving class as well. He'd never seen servants so forward. Their easy expressions were bordering on brazen and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.
Endeavoring to ignore it, he glanced around the room to distract himself. It was tolerable as far as dining rooms went. Large enough to seat all of the household and quite a number of guests. The long T-shaped table took up the bulk of the room, with space along the walls on each end for sideboards. The dumbwaiters opened all along one side in between the fireplaces allowing the food to be sent up immediately from the kitchen to ensure it was still hot.
Ran had seen worse designs. The opposite wall was almost entirely windows which, since it was now dark, had their curtains drawn against the cold. In the daylight though the view would be out the back over the formal garden and cliff to the forested ridge beyond. Not practical in battle under wartime conditions, but beautiful in the peace.
But the fine details of the room were dulled by the shabbiness of its appearance. It had not been kept up as it should. Even in the dim light of the table's candles and lit sconces lining the walls Ran could readily discern that the curtains were in need of mending and cleaning. The wallpaper was outdated and faded, even torn in places. And shifting in his seat Ran was reminded that the chairs wanted restuffing.
The end of dinner couldn't come soon enough. When at last it was over Ran found himself accompanying both the men and women into a large drawing room situated at the front of the house. It was actually, he realized, several rooms strung across the long front like a chain. Each led into the next via a series of double doors which were opened at both ends of each room.
Once they'd entered the ladies situated themselves at one end of the long row of rooms. Occupying two or three together, while the men took the rest. It was an odd arrangement, but not altogether inconvenient to someone who wished to observe the company as a whole.
Ran was obliged to take the seat of honor by the side of his host in a small circle of chairs by one of the many fireplaces and they were joined by Chancellor Weston and Takashi Hidaka. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief as he took his seat. With the ladies away he would be spared at least half of the innocuous touches. Smiling in thanks he accepted a glass of sweet wine from a servant. The food had been good, thankfully, and so far the wines were pleasing.
"I trust the meal was to your liking, my Lord?" Lord Hidaka inquired politely.
"Yes, delightful," Ran answered.
"I can't boast about many things, but our kitchens are very fine," the Lord smiled.
Ran thought that perhaps he was feeling the influence of his own wine and quirked an amused eyebrow.
"So, what is this royal tour you spoke of earlier?" Takashi asked brusquely, leaning forward in his own chair beside the fire.
It was more a demand for information than a civil question and Ran was inclined not to answer. He narrowed his eyes at the slightly older man.
"Takashi," his father said lowly and with more than a hint of warning.
"My Lord, I must also profess a strong curiosity about this sudden decision of the King's," spoke up the Lord's chief advisor.
His name was Weston and Ran had disliked him on sight. There was the other source of open animosity. Not to mention something about the man made Ran distinctly uncomfortable. As if he'd be afraid to turn his back on him in the middle of a crowded room.
"He's shown us little enough regard these past fifteen years," the Chancellor continued. "Why now of all times?"
"Why indeed?" Takashi echoed, sounding more a spoiled child than a threatening man.
Ran looked between the two and took a long, slow sip of his wine. Time to dangle the carrot.
"It is not the King who wishes to revitalize relations with the border Houses," he spoke at last, interrupting Takashi who was about to say something sarcastic. Ran glanced at the three men in turn to be sure he had their full attention. Each looked suitably interested and he allowed himself a moment of amusement before he continued. "It is Crown Prince Keiji, with the King's blessing, who's attentions I herald."
"The Crown Prince?" Takashi asked, stunned.
"But why now?" Weston questioned, still suspicious.
"The King means to retire from official duty," Ran stated bluntly.
"An abdication?" Lord Hidaka asked and Ran nodded.
"He means to spend his remaining years in leisure. His reign has not been without conflict and he seeks peace with those he has...been less than friendly with before his days end. Prince Keiji also believes it is better to begin his reign with forgiveness and a renewal of the unification we were once renowned for."
"So, the Crown Prince wishes to consolidate his power?" Weston asked almost to himself.
Ran sat up straighter and set his glass down on the table between them with a loud snap. He caught Weston in a glare and held him until he squirmed.
"He means to visit and renew attentions to those who would be his loyal subjects," he stated, carefully enunciating each word. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that there has been serious doubts about this House in particular due to some questionable events fourteen years ago."
The room they were in went silent. Lord Hidaka leaned forward in his seat intent on cutting the tension between the two.
"My Lord Fujimiya, you must forgive us," he stated calmly. "We are unaccustomed to conversing with men who's positions so outweigh our own. Chancellor Weston meant no insult. He simply did not think before speaking. He employed poor phrasing, to be sure," he said more sharply also glaring at Weston.
"Yes, I apologize," the Chancellor said his face blanching.
He bowed in his seat and sagged in relief when Ran's gaze shifted back to his host.
"I apologize for my mention of your unfortunate daughter," Ran said softly to the Lord. "I did not mean to bring up unpleasant memories or to question your right of Ascension."
"I understand. Thank you. Enough business," the Lord continued to the company at large. "There is time enough for that tomorrow. Let us have some entertainment. Where is little Omi?"
Ran's interest peaked immediately. He let the heat of anger abate and looked curiously at the youngster which separated himself from a corner by a window and moved forward. Ran studied him as he crossed the room.
He appeared no more than sixteen or seventeen, and small even for that. His blond hair was short and reflected the candle light as he moved, testifying to its cleanliness. He carried himself well but without pride, and a startling intelligence appeared in his blue eyes before being hidden.
He'd been watching them, Ran realized. It was unusual for him to be watched without his knowledge and for a moment he was unsettled. Omi seemed to sense this and flashed a bright smile full of warmth and easy cheer. Not unlike Aya's. Ran was soothed almost before he'd realized he was upset.
"I'm here, my Lord," the youth said as he neared their little group. "How may I serve you?"
"A song, Omi. To lighten our hearts," Lord Hidaka cried in an attempt at levity.
"As you wish," Omi bowed.
"My ward," Lord Hidaka said quietly to Ran. "Took him in when his mother passed."
The young man cast another quick glance at Ran and smirking, turned to approach a small piano tucked against the wall, the crowd of milling gentlemen parting to let him through. He sat lightly and began playing. The music flowed out into the room like an intoxicating perfume. Omi's touch was delicate and studied. He allowed the notes of the intro to stretch, lulling the tension from the room before he began to sing. The song was sweet and sad. Omi's voice a soft tenor with a smooth inflection.
Ran caught himself day dreaming. The music and Omi's voice conjuring images of happy childhood memories laced with the bitter sorrow the loss of his parents had brought. Then, suddenly, he was reminded of the odd feeling he'd experienced in the courtyard. The strange sense of longing that had followed it returned and made his heart ache.
When the song ended Ran was almost relieved. It took several moments for the company to shake off the lethargy the music had induced, but when they did they applauded. Ran looked to Omi only to find the boy staring at his sheet music unblinkingly. He'd gone very pale, and Ran gaped, instantly recognizing the symptoms of someone having a vision.
Omi was a seer.
No one else appeared to notice the odd behavior or if they did, they didn't mark it. One of the noblemen standing near him gently shook his shoulder, effectively snapping the youth out of his stupor.
Omi's eyes met Ran's with a look of alarm before he hid it behind a smile of apology aimed at Lord Hidaka.
"Beautiful, my boy, as always," Lord Hidaka nodded. "Perhaps something a bit cheerier this time?"
"Of course," the lad chirped and his spry fingers danced over the keys.
The lively music invited conversation and soon the room was awash in chatter. Ran was left wondering what had inspired that look of alarm, as well as how Omi had escaped being registered as a seer at the First House. They hadn't separated themselves that far from the goings on here. A little later in the evening he cornered the lad with the intention of finding out.
"How is your first evening here, my Lord?" Omi asked cheerily. "I doubt we are as grand or exciting as some of the other border Houses."
"True," Ran said. "But grandeur and excitement aren't always pleasing. I found your singing very pleasant indeed."
"Thank you."
"In fact, I must confess I've heard you before when you were but a boy."
"Indeed?" Omi asked smiling cheekily.
"Yes," Ran answered. "I believe you were visiting some relations at the First House and were asked to perform."
"Indeed I was, and I must also confess that I remember you," chirped the young man.
Ran started.
"You do?" he asked completely taken aback.
"Yep," Omi said releasing a very childish giggle. His eyes twinkled with delight. "You and your charming sister...Aya? Yes, Aya. You were seated across the room from me, very near the Queen and the three royal children that were present. I made Aya cry and you comforted her. I've always meant to apologize for that. It was unintentional."
Before Ran could utter a word Omi began to move away, but turned back with a look of warning.
"I would advise staying in your room tonight. The view from your balcony can keep until morning," he said softly. "There's nothing to see in the dark."
Again Ran was stunned speechless.
Omi turned once more and moved off through the crowd. It was shortly after this that the company broke up for the night.
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Ran sat on the edge of his bed and yanked out the knot in his cravat. He'd waved off the Lord's offer of a butler. He needed to have time to himself so he could contact Aya, and he needed to have his room empty of servants in case the spy came calling.
Glancing at the clock he wondered what was keeping her. It was half past eleven. The party had broken up half an hour ago. Surely everyone was settled in their own apartments by now. Then again, this House had displayed a lack of decency and decorum that was appalling. Heaven knew what went on after the evenings ended. He'd already checked the lock on his door and made sure he had a sturdy chair handy to brace the door with. No telling what these people would get up to.
Sighing in exasperation he pulled his cravat off, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and began wondering around his room. It was done up in a particularly irksome teal blue with gold trim and tassels decorating the edge of every surface, curtain, and coverlet. Although clean and dust free the fabrics, carpet and furnishings showed the same faded, well used quality betrayed by the other rooms he'd seen. He almost felt sorry for the footstool which had its gold trim attached with pins to keep it off the carpet. The whole room had a sadly pathetic feel which left Ran feeling almost sorry for himself.
He scowled darkly at the footstool and kicked it. The loud bang of it tipping over corresponded to a sharp wrap at his door. He jumped in surprise then stepped quickly forward.
An old, hunched woman moved quickly into his room. He shut the door behind her after glancing down the corridor in each direction.
"What kept you?" he asked sourly.
"My shift started in the kitchens. I had to sneak away," she answered in a voice too young for her age. "Gods, what an awful room."
Ran snorted.
"Well? Its bad isn't it?" she asked, turning to face him after glancing around.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, knowing she was no longer referring to his accommodations.
"Yes, every bit as bad as you said," Ran answered.
"Have you ever known me to be prone to exaggeration?"
"No."
He moved past her and resumed his seat on the edge of his bed while she remained standing, quite straight despite the hump, her arms folded across her chest.
"Did you drop the bait?" she asked.
"Yes, and I may have gotten a bite," he remarked.
"So soon?"
"These people can hardly be classified as subtle."
"True," she smirked, revealing a bit of a sense of humor. "Who nibbled?"
"Weston," Ran spat the name as if he found it distasteful.
Her smirk became a sneer.
"And what do you think of the head Chancellor?" she asked.
"I'd run my sword through him just for the pleasure of it," Ran said seriously, his eyes sharp. "There's something off about him. Something not right," he said more thoughtfully.
"Nail on the head, kid," the woman said. "Want to know something interesting?"
Ran looked up and nodded.
"He never leaves his room without a guard," she said.
Ran's eyebrows knit in confusion.
"Here in his Lord's own home?" When she nodded he mused, "I wonder what he's afraid of?"
"What indeed. Watch your back." With that she moved toward the door. Ran rose and followed. When she reached it she hunched over again and adopted the mode of speech of an elderly woman. "I'll keep my ears open and contact you tomorrow," she said.
Ran nodded and saw her out. He locked the door behind her and propped the sturdy chair under the handle. On his way back across the room he righted the foot stool. More than a little preoccupied with the questions racing through his mind, he opened the door to his balcony and stepped out into the brisk night air.
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Author's Note: Hee-hee-hee! Well, there it is. Not too bad, if I do say so myself. I think this chapter is actually one of the best I've ever written. Too bad I can't always manage to write this well. Anyway, enough blowing my own horn. What'd you guys think? Did you like Ran's arrival? Yes, they were flying. More about that later! For now, please, please, PLEASE review!
Ranny Boy: Well, there weren't really any confrontations in this chapter, but there were some subtle arguments which I like just as well. This is where the plot really starts to get going. Hopefully. :) Thanks for reading!
Shikigami-kun: Yeah, he started young didn't he? I love Aus too! And regular ones! I love them all! Ran/Ken forever!!! :) Thanks for reading!
Ru-chan: I'm glad you like it! Thanks! And yeah, it is that kind of society. I was hoping people would get that, and they did! :) Thanks for reading!
Mondtanz: I'm glad you weren't bothered. It seems no one was and I was worried for no reason. And I thought of the fact that Omi started younger (and Michele of Side B) after I posted. Here's Ran! And Omi's back too! I'm glad you like how I'm "dropping information". That's how I'm trying to keep everyone interested enough to read it! I have brought some Bujold home from the library and then not had enough time to read them. She writes about that short guy, right? My favorite fantasy writer is Terry Pratchett who can probably more accurately be described as a satirist who uses a fantasy world for his settings. So maybe I actually like satirists better than fantasy authors? Hmmm. ;) Thanks for reading!
Seph Lorraine: Yay! You liked it! So happy! So happy! (Me, I mean) Yes! Cheer on KenKen! Go, KenKen! Go! Well, I'm updating early, so how's that? You know though, (about Y/A) we have to remember that Ken and Aya are still together in cannon, and Yohji has lost his memory. Fanfics are all they have now. We still have Side B (which hopefully will one day be animated...well). And it is a sacred pairing! Just wait and see! Ha-ha-ha! ;) Thanks for reading!
MeddleMind01: Oh, thank you! blush Sh-Sh-Shakespeare?! The immortal bard?! BLUSH Oh, thank you! I think you just made my week! Its probably the influence of the setting. nods I will keep updating. Promise! :) Thanks for reading!
Elfgoddess00: You have six younger siblings? O.O Wow. But, yeah, I grew up in a neighborhood with about ten kids around the same ages. I remember what we used to say and think...and do! Its true, that's what I was thinking. After being exposed to such violence how could he not think of revenge? I'm glad you liked it. :) Thanks for reading!
Makami: Hmmm...is Ken going to get his weapon in this story?......Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I'm not telling. ;P Thanks for reading!
