Disclaimer: Same as before

A/N: Well here's chapter two. I've come to realize, as I write more of this, that it's very much not the kind of 'Wolf's Rain' fanfic I would write. Also, er…it has become very personal to me. You could say I've put a lot of myself into it. If I'm lucky I'll get at least two more reviews (that would calculate to about…2 reviews x 5 chapter…at the maximum 10 reviews. Wouldn't that be something? Doubt it'll happen but I'm still doing this. Aaah me.) Chapter three might be a long time in the making…and I'll end it there.

End of chapter is dedicated to twinny-chan! (which is in the second part)

finding cloud 9

"a long time ago when the world was pretty, standing right here in a different city

I'm not coming back anymore"

-This Isn't What We Meant (Savatage)

It was a surprisingly fresh day out, cold but clear, even this late in February. The brightness of the blazing sun overhead had him almost doubt the prediction of the groundhog, about a week ago. But any nagging doubt in his mind was washed clean away the instant he stepped outside. The chilly air certainly felt like winter despite what it looked like outside.

Right now, and luckily in his mind, he was inside at the moment.

His face was eyeing the rolls of soup cans in the brightly lit aisle of the town grocery store, wondering again why it was they needed so many. And if they had to get the same soups every time, they could at least get something with a little bit more flavor. But oh, no, Stephen would never go for that. Practically and tradition all the way, if nothing at all. Regretfully eyeing the Mexican spicy seasoned bean soup, he sighed dejectedly grapping the handful of other, most "reasonable" soups that his brother always insisted on.

It took a moment to juggle them all, and for that brief moment, Matthew Jackson feared he would lose all four of them. But by a strike of luck, and probably good balance he liked to think, he kept them from falling to the titled floor. As he grinned self-satisfied with himself, his eyes caught on to a dark clothed form walking pass the back end of the aisle.

He was instantly enthralled. Struck mostly by her vivacious blue eyes, he stared a moment, taking in her long legs with tall dark boots and red scarf clasped tightly around her throat. After a short debate with himself, he rushed out after her.

"Hey there!"

She spun around slowly, head peering behind her in disdained surprise.

Now that's something I'm use to, he couldn't help but laugh silently to himself.

Catching up to her, he was about to offer her his hand, but then remembering their full status smiled instead.

"Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around before."

Her blue eyes regarded him balefully, trailing up and down his perhaps somewhat shabby appearance. Apparently finding nothing that spoke of immediate distrust, one of her eyelids lowered as the other eyebrow rose, and he was pleased at the sight of half of her mouth curling upward.

"No, I guess not." Hands on hip, she surveyed him again. "I don't usually come here, but my cousin wanted to look and see if they had any strays here." As if realizing that her explanation was not very much in that regard, she added, blushing a light shade of pink. "That is, last time he was in America, while he was visiting New York, he found an abandoned kitten. Our Aunt thought that if any place would have any, it would be around here. And since we're here, I though I'd see what was here."

"Aah! So you're from out of states. I could tell by your accent." As he spoke he unconsciously shot a finger at her, in the mood of a gun imitation as if to emphasis his point. The usually winning gesture was highly spoiled by the loud clatter of the trio of soup cans colliding with a bang into the supermarket floor. He kept a good hold on the fourth one, though it wasn't enough to salvage his pride.

The girl stared at him, whether stunned or appalled he couldn't tell. In an effort to make amends, he gave her a dopey grin, shrugging helplessly.

"Oops."

"I'd say so."

At her words, he noticed to his dismay that one of the cans had broken and was even now rapidly spilling all along the floor.

"Uh oh." Glancing hurriedly around, he was relieved to see no one was nearby. "All right, we better make a run for it."

"You're going to just run away?" The incredulous tone of hers couldn't quite hide the humor she clearly saw in the situation.

"Of course. C'mon." Without asking, almost an impulse, he took her hand pulling her along with him. The door was to the left, right?

"You still have that other one. Are you going to run out with that too?"

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot." Eyeing the surrounding area a moment, he sprinted back to the soup aisle, sliding past the spillage, and placed the remaining one safely on the self. While he was thus preoccupied, to his astonishment, the blue-eyed gal had picked up the other two and placed them on the shelf as well. And had done so without getting of the red liquid on her stylish clothes.

At his questioning stare, she chuckled.

"I make it a habit to help those in need."

He wasn't sure if that was an insult or complement, but decided, after a quick decision, that it was likely both.

"Right. Well, hurry up."

"What makes you think I'm still coming with you? I didn't spill anything." She stood coolly with her arms crossed, watching him with veiled interest. At least he hoped that was what it was.

"Sure. I thought maybe you'd like to get something to eat. I'm starving anyway. There's a real neat place nearby. Wanta come?" The words rushed out in a hurry, his mouth babbling ahead of him. It was hard to describe, this odd new feeling. He wanted desperately for her to come with her, from the instant he had seen her, he knew, though consciously Matt never would have said it as such, that she was something, or rather someone, he had been hoping to find for so long, and half fearing he never would. But here she was and he wasn't going to let her slip away. But all that he was aware of in his churning brain was that he had to get out of here as soon as possible.

As if gleaning some of his thoughts, she gave a sigh of mocked submission, then nodded.

"Sure. Why not?"

He couldn't help but smile.

"My name's Matt, though my brother likes to call me Hige." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Now why did he tell her that? "He's taking some kind of Japanese dialect thingie class at the college he commutes too. He said it made him think of me. I think it's a kind of joke," he added, rubbing absently at his smooth cheeks.

She actually laughed at that, somehow more amused at that, then at anything else.

"I'm Katherine Winterhart, but most people call me Blue."

"Blue…that's a beautiful name." As if realizing what he had just said, he mumbled something incoherently, before she stopped his stuttering with a small smile.

"I don't believe we have much more time, since your soup pool has grown quite large by now." Her head leaned out, gazing behind him in heightened concentration, making sure.

"Ah right." He slapped his forehead, amazed at his idiocy. And silent grateful at her slick change of the subject. He wasn't sure what had made him say what he did, but he knew it wasn't really the kind of thing you said to someone you had only just met. But he knew it was still true.

"Right," he said again. "Shall we?"

"I said yes." Shrugging her narrow shoulders she replied, "I've got nothing else to do."

"That's what I like to hear!"

The winter air stung at his face. Cold air had moved in from the mountains in the west, the big ones, so the weather report had claimed this morning, dropping the temperature yet leaving the sky spotlessly clear. If the wind hadn't been so cold the warmth of the sun might have been soothing, but in this case the sun was merely an irritant, shooting beams of light into one of his eyes from where it hung in the sky. As well as the drop in temperature the air had brought with it a steady, piercing wind.

Where he was standing, watching as unobtrusively as he could muster without degrading his connotation of common sense, the air bit ruthlessly. The side street whose corner he leaned against meandered to a dead end that was wide open to a large field, the stalks of whatever was growing there rushing back and forth in the biting wind. Stinging fingers crept up his neck as the unrestrained breeze shot down the side street, and he tried to shake off the shiver that accompanied it.

He knew it was too cold for any normal-thinking person to be out, so why was he? Why was he out here, lying in wait like this, watching and waiting for God-knows-what?

No, that wasn't completely true and, no matter how much he might like to deny it, he knew why he was out here.

That girl, that saucy girl who had snipped so readily at him. She was the one, whatever that meant. Her name, or rather her nickname, was Cheza. It was an uncommon enough name to get his attention. He had heard that name before, deep inside himself. It was a name that called to him, as irrational as he knew it was, quietly, almost politely, asking him to come. And yet, that girl didn't seem aware of it. Maybe he was wrong and this inherent illogical feeling was only a hoax.

Laughing silently at his train of thought, he scowled outwardly, knowing that he was merely fooling himself. If he had really felt so wrong about it, he would not have come here, to this city searching for the maiden named Cheza. Like hell was he suppose to know what that meant, but Tsume had never questioned the feeling. He had always known, in some part of himself, that there was what he could only explain as 'wolf-instinct' in him, drawing him to some certain place. And the only name he had in his head was hers. So here he was, waiting outside in the frigid cold, glaring at the absurdly named store she worked in.

If he squinted hard enough he could see her through the glazed windows. She was laughing it looked like, her hand held up to her mouth as if she was tying to keep it inside. Her co-worker, who Tsume had found groundlessly incompetent and annoying, was waving his hands about in an idiotic manner.

The scene nearly made him growl and feeling suddenly disgusted with himself despite his raging 'wolf-instinct' he slipped out from the side street.

It was a little less cold out in the open. The wind only poked slightly icy fingers at him.

Glaring at the cement sidewalk, he felt a hot anger, the likes he had never felt for a long time. It almost felt as if he resented that idiot for being around Cheza but that was ludicrous thinking. It didn't matter to him. It couldn't matter to him. No, of course not.

Whatever these feelings were, they were nothing for him to worry about. They were only fragments of some far off memory. There was no real place for them, only in instinctive dreams.

As he walked along, glaring his anger into the sidewalk below his feet, he did not look where he was going. Without warning a soft shape collided into him, abruptly throwing off his balance.

He staggered for a moment, and then shot up his eyes at the fool who had meandered stupidly into him but the curse on his lips fell short.

What met his eyes was only a slightly embarrassed boy with red tousled hair, who seemed more put out about the ridiculous incident then he did. Strangely in that brief instant, Tsume felt his irrational rage slip away, with only his natural hesitancy and cool aloofness in meeting others.

"Sorry."

Whoever the kid was he sounded genuinely sorry. That was unusually, as far as it went with him.

He didn't say so to the kid, but shrugged impassively, raising a pale eyebrow at the boy. "Just watch it."

Secretly impressed with himself for his stance of aloofness, he started to weave his way pass the kid. Quite to his surprise the kid didn't let it end relatively so easy.

"I wasn't the one snarling at the sidewalk." Despite the accusing tone in the kid's voice, he sounded somewhat amused too. When Tsume didn't respond, the kid grinned, rather widely at him, in what Tsume felt was rather uncommon friendliness, placing his hands on his hips as if he was getting ready for an inspection. "You don't have to be so nervous you know. It's," the kid waved to the surroundings vaguely, "just a small town." His smile dimmed a little and his eyes looked curious. "Are you not from around here either?"

The kid's voice sounded different than most of the people around here, not that he'd talk to many of them, but there was definitely a different pitch to his voice. Without thinking, Tsume said, "You're not either, are ya." It was a statement, not a question.

Looking surprised the kid blinked at him then his mouth quirked in a half smile. "Yeah. Well, not really. My Aunt lives here. I'm visiting."

"Are ya sure you should be telling me all this?"

The kid looked puzzled. "I don't see why not." As an afterthought he added, "My name's Roger. Roger Winterhart."

He seemed to be expecting something, so Tsume shrugged at him replying as nonchalantly as he could, "I'm looking for something."
"What?"

"You're awfully nosy for a kid."

"I'm nearly thirteen!"

The indignance in Roger's voice made him smirk without thinking.

"Really, you're still awfully nosy."

Eyebrows hunched over resentfully, the kid's hazel eyes glinted up at him, not amused.

"You haven't told me your name."

"I wasn't planning on it." The honesty of his answer startled him and yet…

"Aren't you awfully paranoid?"

Tsume raised an eyebrow of inquiry on that. He never heard someone use that particular phrase for him.

Sighing Roger seemed to have decided this peculiar leather-clad man was not so much a danger as a head sore.

"You act as if you think everyone's out to get you."

Without thinking, yet again, he answered. "I have my reasons." Inside he was gaping at himself. It was as if he couldn't keep his tongue in check, words were merely spilling from him, heedless of the company. As if this strange boy…

He narrowed his eyes at Roger's innocently curious and vaguely intrigued glance, suddenly having a strange feeling. It was a little bit like with Cheza, but completely different. Whatever it was, it wasn't really a name, it wasn't really calling him; it was merely something as simple as breathing. A simple thing he needed. Something he had needed to find and hadn't known it, but had known on some instinctive level that finding Cheza would lead him to it.

These bubbling incoherent feelings made his leg itch severely.

"Tsume?" The question cut through his confusion and he was briefly glad for it until he saw who it was. Cheza.

She was watching the two of them with curiosity.

"Who's you're friend?"

"He's not my friend." Tsume scowled, even as the kid answered the question himself.

"I'm Roger." His hazel eyes stared at her as she stared back with equal intensity. "Who are you?"

"Cheza." Wrinkling her nose, she made a face. "I don't know why I said that. My really name is Emma."

"Ah." The kid seemed to think a moment, then eyes lighting up he asked. "You know Tsume?"

"She does not." His quick response did not console him.

She gave him a funny look, but agreed with him. "He's right. I don't really know, but he's hard not to miss."

"Yeah." The kid apparently agreed with her on that.

Tsume rolled his eyes, wondering how he had gotten caught up in all this again?

read on...to finding cloud 9 (part 2)