Hey there, here's the second chapter of the story, edited and ready to for you to read! Leave a comment please, I would really appreciate it! (oh the countless hours I've spent on this story…)

Thank You

dillpops-you're my first reviewer thanks for the support, I edited the first chapter as well, thanks!

snow blossoms-blush thanks! here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy

Deidamia-hehe, thanks for reviewing, here's the new chapter!

Paige Moonsword-hehe, Van is here! hugs Van umm, Kate and Leopold is cool nn;; enjoy chapter 2!

Avelyn Lauren-thanks for reviewing! Enjoy:p

Love Witch-hugs you thank you! I'm glad you like the twist here's our Van! Lol, enjoy.

Ryuu Angel-evil laugh yeah, you're the only one that complained;; after I read your review, I just had to post it this weekend! And Vannie is here points at Van so sexy…..cough anyway…..lol, the men think Hitomi is a guy nn;; hehe…they won't know what hit them….. hahah, I wasn't thinking as Celena and Dilandau as painting here;; maybe they will in the fic…..maybe not sigh it all depends, eh? But it's the Dilandau in the painting is the Esca version, the Dilly in the fic is, well, fic version;; sorry if I don't make any sense…….and I love art too! Okay, thanks for reviewing, it was very funny and brought a smile to my face! Enjoy chapter 2

Stealing Hearts

Chapter two - Dark Amber Meets Emerald

It was Monday morning, a hellish day for any normal being. The horrid thought of leaving the warm bed after a restful weekend and having to battle for your life for the rest of the week doesn't seem so appealing. The stores and commerce was back and alive, the uproar of cars and trains running through the city and endless faces walking to their work moved the country to its wealth.

The vendors eagerly chanted their customers showing their best works to lull them inside and hopefully gain money. Offices buzzed with calls and conversations, the air thick and dry from the AC´s and the bodies clustered inside the cubicles working swiftly. And it was no different for Frankie. It was like any other day for him, really. He worked at the Police department, with a dream to one day becomes a cop. But, for now, he was content as a secretary/messenger. He was a short man, with thick round glasses and very slim. However, it ever times such as these that made him wonder why exactly he had wanted to be a cop. Frankie stood in front of his boss and tried to look as professional as possible as he continued to bellow wildly inside his office.

"What do you mean nothing?" a tall and broad man rose from his seat in disbelief. Frankie noticed with some nervousness a nerve pop out of his boss´ neck; face all red and twisted into a scowl. It was a truly frightening scene. He mumbled weakly, "I mean, it wasn't there when they arrived."

His boss, named Mr. Folken, looked at the small man with a maddening glare, his jaw clenched very tightly before speaking, "You mean to tell me that the Great War museum, one of the best surveillances in all of Fanelia, might I add, was robbed? But just not any thief, but by Emerald himself?" The man roared loudly and his red eyes shone very brightly under the intense light of his office. He was a man in his youth, still in his young thirties and at a prestigious stage of his career. His hair was slightly longer than most man would have it cut, with a very rare colour of blue, along with red piercing eyes. His nose was straight and unbelievably feminine for a man, with thin lips and a narrow face. His body was fit, visible by his strong arms and the way his shirt stretched across his firm chest. He wore a white shirt, with its sleeves rolled up at the heat inside the office, a red tie slightly loose, and dark pants with a matching belt. He looked totally irresistible if he didn't look like he wanted to bite someone's head off.

Frankie felt his legs buckle and shut his eyes tightly, "Exactly, sir."

The man cried in frustration and threw the can filled with pens, almost hit the poor man's head, "I can't believe it!" Mr. Folken sat back in his hair and growled low in his throat. His blue hair gleamed and swayed slightly when he stood up quickly and went around the table, making Frankie jump out of his skin. Mr. Fanel paced the room once, twice, looked at Frankie, paced the room again with an expression that Frankie could only think as deep in concentration. Suddenly, Mr. Fanel crossed the room and stood in front of Frankie, towering over his small form, "When did all of this happen?" Hissed Mr. Fanel, reminding Frankie of a poisonous snake.

Frankie cleared his throat and tried to look at Mr. Fanel´s eyes, "Around, four-thirty, sir."

Mr. Fanel rubbed his chin thoughtfully and cast a menacing look at Frankie, "This was before the second round of guards arrived, correct?"

Frankie nodded, "The first guards had just left when the alarm went off."

Mr. Fanel thrust one of his hands inside his pants, the other continued rubbing his chin, "And they have no pictures of Emerald what so ever? Nothing?"

Frankie glanced down at the report and skimmed through the pages, "Um, that's what it seems, sir."

Mr. Fanel gritted his teeth and swung his hand and slammed against his palm, Frankie scooted away slowly, "God damn it! The man is a fucking shadow!"

Frankie stood very still and looked at Mr. Fanel. He caught his gaze and said in a gruff voice, "Anything else?"

The poor man shook his head and contained himself from smiling at the thought of leaving the office. Mr. Fanel glared and barked, "So get out of here, damn it! Do I have to tell you what to do?" The small man quickly made his way to the door but was quickly spun around my Mr. Fanel. He gulped.

"Where do you think you're going?" Said Mr. Fanel, as if speaking to a child.

"I was just—" the man explained but Mr. Fanel quickly shushed him with a glare.

"I don't care where you go, just as long as you don't take the report with you." Mr. Fanel promptly snatched the report from Frankie's hands and went back his seat calmly. Frankie stood there, with the door half hanging open as he clutched the handle strongly. Mr. Fanel was looking through the pages and lifted his head up again, irritated to see him still there, "What are you still doing here? Go, go!"

Frankie didn't have to be told twice and practically ran out the room, almost slamming the door behind him.

Mr. Fanel mumbled about incompetent secretaries and he turned another page. While skimming through the pages, he grasped his mug and took a large gulp, feeling the hot liquid go down his throat. He twirled the mug a little, and took another sip of it as his eyes continued roaming through the pages, eyebrows slightly furrowed. His desk was a mess; papers were laying everywhere. He had never been much of a neat freak, but it seemed that his desk was made out of papers; he hardly remembered how the surface of the desk looked like. Mr. Fanel sighed tiredly and brought the lamp closer to the report.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Once again irritable by the lack of privacy, Mr. Fanel raised his head and scolded and said in a rough voice, "Come in."

The door gentlely opened, and in walked a tall man with dark locks combed poorly, if combed at all. He had sun kissed skin and he wore a dark shirt, almost black, with dark pants, and over his shoulder he held a leather jacket. The young man wasn't intimidated by the way Mr. Fanel was glaring at him, by the contrary, he seemed quiet amused and chuckled, "Scaring your employees? Now, now, Folken. I thought you had passed that phase already." The young man rolled his maroon eyes and closed the door softly behind him, unceremoniously sitting in front of Mr. Fanel.

Mr. Fanel, or as the man had called him, Folken, dropped his scowl and grinned, "Van, good to see you!"

Van grinned and leaned against the table, a curious gleam in his deep eyes, "Nice to see you too, brother."

Folken regarded him for a moment, "You must be wondering why I called you here."

Van smirked and nicked the report away from Folken, "Actually, I have a pretty good idea why I'm here, but since I can't read minds, I don't know what I'm supposed to do exactly." Van's glided through the papers and would occasionally glance at Folken´s face, but quickly returned to the report at hand and nodded his head once and a while.

"I presume you know it involves Emerald." Said Folken as he looked at Van flipping through the pages. Van nodded his head without looking up.

"They have no shots of her, what so ever," grumbled Folken irritated and passed his hand over his hair. He scolded, "The blasted man pranced inside the damn museum with no one inside and could have very well left the museum without setting the alarm off! Bloody hell!"

"I know," said Van almost bored and handed back the report to Folken, "He must have planned this very well. There's no doubt about it. He even knew the passwords."

Folken snapped his head towards Van in disbelief.

"He had the password to the whole museum. You say that they didn't film anything, right?" Van paused and waited until Folken nodded seriously, "Well, it's really no surprise because they didn't film anything. He stopped the cameras."

Folken spluttered, "But that's impossible!" He said in outrage, "it's impossible to turn off the cameras, Van! They were specifically designed to not succumb to things like these!"

Van glanced sideways at Folken, "Well, than we seem to have not only a thief, but also a hacker. It seems most likely that Emerald bribed someone, it's highly unlikely that he would gather this information on his own, but than again, I could be wrong." Van pulled out a tape and wiggled his eyebrows as he looked at Folken. The older man nodded his head and Van strolled over to the television, popped open the case and slid the tape in. Almost tiredly he pressed play and waited for the image to appear.

"See there?" Van pointed on the timer at the bottom of the screen, four little digits moving by the second. The tape filmed an empty corridor, the light from outside illuminating the wall. Suddenly, the number skipped several minutes, and from than on continued properly. Van stopped the tape and emphasised on the difference of time, around the time the museum had been robbed.

Folken gaped and shut his mouth tightly, "Bloody hell," He moaned and rubbed his temple, "What a horrible way to start the week."

Van snorted, "You're telling me, I have to see your ugly face on Monday morning. Not a pretty sight, might I add."

Folken laughed and tapped Van on the back, "Be very thankful you're relative, or you wouldn't see anything for the next three days."

Van grinned and tapped Folken on the back as well, "I know."

Folken looked at Van and smirked, "Well, I always knew you had it in you, kiddo. I mean, you did graduate on top of your class."

Van looked taken aback by the tone his brother was speaking to him, but smiled nevertheless, "Yeah, well, that's not the only thing I've got up my sleeve." Van grabbed Folken´s coffee and took a swing at it, almost drinking half of what was left. Folken raised an eyebrow in curiosity and leaned against his desk, "I'm all ears."

Van grinned and hoped away from the desk, turned slightly to the side and walked slowly around the room, "It seems, from my calculations, that Emerald will strike Fanelian Culture Museum next."

Folken´s eyes enlarged incredibly and continued following Van with his eyes, "How can that be? Doesn't the fool know that would be his death? If he thought it was easy to have entered the Museum of the Great War, than he's bloody going to be disappointed, because the Fanelian Culture Museum is the best equipped museum in Fanelia, no thief has even entered the place before, but less rob anything!" Folken almost laughed at the thought.

"I believe it's possible to break down the barrier of that Museum. This thief has skill, it won't be easy, but if there's someone most likely to do it, it´s him," Van said firmly and he sat back down on the chair in front of Folken.

Folken shook his head and looked at Van curiously, "The bloody bastard, I wonder what would happen if someone caught him. That would be the day."

"Or her." Interjected Van and he took another sip of his coffee.

"What?" Folken glanced at Van out of his trance.

"Or her, Emerald could be a woman," Van said in a matter of fact.

Folken thrust his head back and let a bark of laughter, "Ah! I would love to see the day! Van," Said Folken as he wiped his eyes from tears of laughter, "Emerald is not a woman, trust me."

Van looked at Folken and leaned closer to his brother, "It could very well be a woman, mind you. We've never seen the thief before, not even a glimpse on tape. It's very hard to be so certain it's a man."

Folken snorted and grinned at the thought.

Van looked amusedly at Folken, "I hope that your wife doesn't know your opinion of Emerald being a woman. Well, I guess she doesn't, otherwise you wouldn't be here, now would you?"

Suddenly, Folken stopped laughing and glared at Van, "Whatever, we can bloody have this debate of your annoying women rights movement later," growled Folken, "but we have to focus on a way to keep the reputation of the museum from being sainted. I don't care what we do, climb Mount Everest if you do, but we have to keep it safe and away from Emerald." Folken tapped his finger strongly against the desk on its importance.

Van whistled and brought his arms back behind his head and grinned cheekily, "I already feel sorry for the people that will have to deal with him." Van laughed and missed the flicker that passed in his brother's eyes.

"Van," said Folken with a pleasant grin on his face.

Van tensed and turned towards Folken, half jumping from his seat at the realization, "Oh, no, no, no! Don't even think about it, I'm so out."

"You don't even know what it is," said Folken seriously, trying his hardest not to laugh at his brother's expression.

"You don't have to, I know you too well, remember? We're brothers. That's still a no," Van sipped his brother's coffee again and turned away from Folken´s pleading look.

"Van, I want that museum to keep its reputation, I don't care what we do, but we can't let this son of a bitch get in," growled Folken as he paced the large office, planning something, "Van, how would you like to take an assignment?"

"No," said Van bluntly.

"Come on, it´s not like I´m going to bite your head off if you fail, or anything," laughed Folken as he tried to catch Van's eye.

Van glanced pointedly at Folken with the mug under his chin, the steam of the coffee slightly blurring his image, "Really?"

Folken smiled, "I won't bite too hard, than."

Van paced around the room and looked deep in thought.

"You'll be paid handsomely, and I know you want to do something exciting with your life, so why not this?" Asked Folken, trying desperately to persuade his little brother.

Van turned towards his brother and raised an eyebrow at him, "Exciting? Like, risking my life with the most dangerous thief Fanelia has ever seen? Oh, I think I'll pass, thanks."

Folken scolded, "It's not like he's a murderer."

"He could very well be, we don't know anything about him! And even if he is a he!" Van exclaimed.

"And that's why we need you, to find out if he's a she or he or whatever, and other things." Folken sat back on his seat and leaned back, peering at Van with his eyes almost closed.

"You're really desperate for me to take this assignment," laughed Van and looked down at his hands, trying to think of ways of getting out of the mess.

"Absolutely, you're the person I trust the most," Folken leaned forward again and felt like his words were starting to have an affect on him, "besides, I know that you are the best for this job, and I'm sure you're not scared to take it, right?" Folken bit back a smile and knew he would fall for that.

Van's eyes gleamed dangerously, "Oh, that was dirty."

"I know, but now you can't back away, so…are you taking it or not? I mean, I could always ask someone else…." Folken trailed off, knowing he didn't have to finish the sentence for the answer.

"Of course I'm going to take, and prove you how damn good I am," Van scolded and felt like bashing his brother's head and ripping that knowing smirk off his face. He always, always got weak when his brother messed with his ego.

"Good, I was almost certain you would chicken out or something." Folken practically snickered and bounced slightly on his chair.

"Go to hell."

"Yeah, I love you too, little bro," smirked Folken and he stood up, facing Van.

"Are you done? Asked Van impatiently. He had to release stress, and as much as he wanted to do it to his brother, he didn't think his wife would like it. He wasn't stupid, he liked to have his own skin, thank you very much.

"Actually…no…you're going to work on the Fanelian Culture Museum, you understand? You have to attract this guy quickly," said Folken more seriously, loosing his smile and was face to face with his brother.

Van nodded, "What am I doing?"

Folken grinned, "You'll be a genitor."

Van raised an eyebrow and didn't look nearly amused as Folken seemed at the prospect, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Actually," Folken laughed, "I am, you're one of the security guards. And I've got your ID ready for you." Folken pulled out the identification and handed to Van.

Van smirked, "You had planned this all along, hadn't you?"

Folken gave a sorry interpretation of an apologetic look.

Van rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

"Oh, Van?" Called Folken from his desk of papers.

"Yeah?" Van looked back over his shoulder at his brother.

Folken grinned, "try not to fool around too much." He laughed, and in return Van gave him a polite hand gesture and slammed the door shut, rattling it slightly. Inside the laughter of Folken could still be heard.

Just in the outskirts of Escatopia were small suburbs, among them was Shiliander, a small and peaceful area, about half an hour from the big metropolis. Instead of large shopping centres and large commerce centres, Shiliander had small personal business and the people were humble. The communities were friendly people, and it was common for one another to help each other, something that was rare in the big cities. T

he day had gone quickly, and it was around ten in the afternoon when a young woman left a small shop. The woman smiled and buttoned her purple coat, marvelling at its warmth and adjusted her colourful scarf. The woman had light brown hair, cut very short that it could almost be a man's cut. Her green eyes gleamed under the glare of the lamppost, cheeks flushed by the cold air. She rubbed her glossy lips together and watched in fascination as she saw her hot breath rise, making her think of a fire-breathing dragon.

Behind her the door opened, she turned around and was faced with an elderly man. He looked like he was in his late seventies, a short man with his head completely turned into grey. His eyes were slightly deformed by his glasses, his thin lips were set to a straight line and his wrinkled face looked quiet sternly. He stood at the door wearing a warm woollen sweatshirt and brown trousers, and holding by the hand he held a broomstick.

The young woman smiled and walked down the steps, "Have a goodnight, Mr. Osumo."

The elderly man looked at her through his very thick glasses and smiled a soft smile, "Goodnight, miss Hitomi."

Hitomi beamed at the senior and twirled under the lamppost. Her heels clicked on the pavement and she looked back at Mr. Osumo, "Goodbye!"

"Bye young lady, I'll see you Wednesday," said Mr. Osumo and he smiled at the young beauty, "be careful."

"I will," she said brightly and breathed lightly, suddenly becoming very serious, "Have you gotten any news of that thief, Emerald?"

"Oh, dear. That is the devil himself," whispered the old man frightened, "but no, I haven't received any news about him."

Hitomi looked thoughtful for a moment and pursed her lips, "I hope they find him, every moment it's getting scarier. Who knows, maybe he'll start robbing people." She fiddled with the hem of her scarf.

"My goodness, Hitomi. Don't say such a thing, " The old man looked horrified at the thought and gripped the broom tighter, "I pray that he stays away from my store."

Hitomi laughed and shook her head, "I don't think he's going to disturb such a nice man."

"I hope you're right," nodded Mr. Osumo, "We've already got enough of street rats here, we don't need another one with skill."

"Yeah," said Hitomi and she wriggled her hands inside her pockets, "I think I better start heading home, it's getting really late," She turned around and began walking, but quickly turned and tilted her head to the side, wisps of golden brown strands blurring her vision, "Do you need my help with anything else?"

The old man lifted his head while he swept the floor, "No, my dear, go along. I'm almost done here, have a safe journey, Hitomi," said Mr. Osumo with a pleasant smile and began sweeping his small porch again, even though it didn't need any cleaning. "Okay, have a safe journey too, bye!" said Hitomi sweetly as she hugged herself with a shiver; despite the warm wool cloak she was wearing. And she began to walk, once or twice looking back and smiling at the vision of the kind old man waving goodbye. She waved as well and turned a corner, and he was gone.

It was quite typical after a long day at work for men and women alike to find themselves inside a warm and welcoming pub. It was more than just a place to have a drink, but like a social gathering, the opportunity to meet new people. The evening had chilled considerably, the air thin and dry, good time of the night to have a drink. At the busiest place of the city there was a small, but very attractive pub. A wooden sign was hanging on top of the door, Dragon's Energist.

The door rattled slightly, opened with a swish of cold air running inside the warm pub, and a tall figure walked in. Van entered the pub around a quarter to eleven, cheeks lightly flushed by the cold and lips very dry. Van rubbed his hands together in search of warmth and heard the door click behind him. The pub wasn't as full as Van had expected, as usually was huddled with people, especially at a weather like this.

It had an old style, with wooden tables nestled by small, but very comfortable chairs, chandeliers lit by candle, and the floor was handsomely furnished with a dark red rug. The walls were wooden, decorated with old paintings, posters from the Great War, shoes or dresses, dried plants or even a tricycle. Van walked over to the bar and sat down at a stool, shrugged his coat off, and laid it next to him. His eyes glided at the many different beverages, uncertain which one he should choose.

The bartender appeared in front of him, a tall man with mahogany brown hair and dark hazel eyes. He grinned, "It's been a long time since you've been here, Van."

Van blinked several times before he realized whom it was, and gave a soft laugh and tapped on the man´s back, "Kaito! It has been a long time."

Kaito was about the same age as Van, fresh out of college and starting his way in life. He wanted to be a photographer. He was a little but shorter than Van, dark complexion and had a slightly round nose, resembling a small potato. Kaito laughed as well, "So, how has work been going?"

Van sighed and slid his hand down his face, "Ah, man, don't even remind me."

"That bad, huh?" Kaito asked curiously as he rinsed a cup and glanced his eyes to the side, making sure there were no customers unsatisfied.

"Yeah, you could say that," Van leaned back on the stool and almost went backwards, but quickly stood back on the stool, holding the counter for support.

Kaito studied him for a moment, a look that seemed to be pensive, and parted his lips slowly, " How hard?"

Van looked at him with a sorrowful look and noticed a newspaper by, with the headlines 'Emerald Strikes Again! More details on page 5'. Van let out a short breath and tilted his head towards the newspaper.

Kaito narrowed his eyes in confusion and followed his gaze, once realizing where it was and what it was, his eyes grew and gasped. He quickly turned his head back to Van and leaned over in a hushed voice, "No…are you really?"

Van rubbed his neck and winced slightly at his reaction, "Yeah, unfortunately," Van wrung his hands together in nervousness, "Folken practically blackmailed me to do it."

Kaito snorted and leaned his head down, "That brother of yours makes me glad I'm an only child."

For a split second Van felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly shook it off, "Yeah, I know."

Kaito shook his head and asked, "So, I know you didn't come here just to talk to me, what will it be?"

Van eyed the liquor bottles longingly and said, "the strongest thing you have."

The bartender whistled with a smile, taking a smaller glass and a bottle with the colour of amber. Kaito looked as he poured generously, almost overflowing, and handed it to Van.

Van held the drink between his fingers and took a shot, felt the liquid burn down his throat and gasped slightly, "Damn."

"You asked for it," His friend laughed and shook his head in amusement. Kaito stored the liquor away and cleaned the counter, not much else for him to do, "When are you starting?"

Van shut his eyes tight and drank the rest in one gulp, head a little dizzy, he set the glass down, "Started today."

"Huh," Kaito said.

Van took out his wallet and ruffled through his money, "How much do I owe you?"

Kaito snorted and waved it off, "It's on the house, Van."

"Thanks," said Van with a grin.

"Now go get that rascal and teach him a good lesson or two," Kaito raised a fist and leaned closer, "People are starting to think he is gonna rob people, it's affecting my business, man!"

Van laughed and stood up, pulled his coat back on and headed for the door, "Okay, I'll see what I can do."

Kaito watched his friend leave the bar and leaned against the counter, a regretful expression on his face. He's doomed. He gave a short sigh and got back to work, once and a while glancing at the door. Shaking his head he attended another customer.

The city clock chimed midnight, a towering and stoned clock, sitting to the side of the church. The night was dark, a few stars twinkling in the sky, and a chilling air swiping through the city. Most people by then were home, discouraged by the weather and by the dangers roaming in the night. The lamppost lit dimly the streets, the roads very practically empty; occasionally a car would pass by. Down the road a repetitive clacking sounded. It grew more noticeable, and a dark figure came into view. The silhouette walked slowly, the hips moving rhythmically from side to side. It was small, distinctively a woman. She passed under a lamppost, a flash of light brown hair and pink cheeks.

The woman stopped, glanced at the roads, not even occupied by taxis, and sighed. She looked at the city clock, and back to her wristwatch, curing slightly. She let out a wine, and hung her head low. She knew she should have let her friend drive her home. With a grim look she opened her purse, knowing that her phone wouldn't work. Damn you for running out of batteries now! With haste she chucked the phone back inside. She contemplated where she should burst inside one of the bars and ask for a lift. She shook her head stubbornly, you idiot, Hitomi. You can do this. You're just going to walk home.

Unfortunately for Hitomi, her apartment was almost to the other side of town, maybe two hours by foot. Hitomi looked down the road, slightly discouraged with the long journey and the unwelcoming darkness. With a defeated sigh, she resumed her walking, ignoring the few places with light and the tantalizing smell of hot food.

The clicking of her heels against the pavement was the only indication of a living soul as Hitomi turned a curve. Hitomi hugged herself more closely, the air faintly penetrating the cloak. Once and a while she would look over her shoulder, a sense that someone was watching her. She would shake her head of brown curls and lead on down. Hitomi searched inside her purse for her warm gloves, a bit distracted from the chill and the continuous street. She rubbed her cheeks, irritated by the coldness and eager to arrive home, but knowing it would be a long time before she would be able to snuggle under her warm duvet.

A few places were open, noticed Hitomi with some surprise and relief, and was almost tempted to walk in to buy a drink. Fatigue and eagerness to arrive home chanted her away from the tantalizing pubs, making her look away and ignore the delicious whiff of hot food. Her mouth watered slightly, and she realized that she hadn't eaten since lunch. She grumbled, curing the Gods for having no taxi, her phone not working, and a very displeased stomach all at once.

Hitomi sniffled, as if she was overwhelmed by her wretched luck, but walked quicker, missing a few odd shadows and the lack of light. She had wondered more than once if it was a smart idea to walk alone, under poorly lit streetlamps, and no way what so ever of communication. A voice in her head pestered her, telling her it was a stupid and immature idea to continue on alone. Sadly, Hitomi was a very proud woman, and with regret she stood facing a no way out street, almost scared to look back. She felt a presence, one that she didn't welcome, and almost knowingly, she heard a voice say from behind her, "Hello, suga."

With slight trepidation she turned, not at all surprised to see a group of sex-deprived juveniles. With calmness that she was used to, she noticed there were five boys. She hid a secret smile knowing they were inexperienced in the arts of fighting and didn't look at all intimidating at the boys slamming bats against their rough palms. Hitomi settled her eyes lazily on the leader, a tall and very muscular young man, no older than eighteen, approaching her very slowly.

Hitomi bit back a yawn, bored to see the leader wiggle his eyebrows and slither closer to her, with a smouldering look in his dark eyes. His blonde hair stood on end and he had a smug smile on his face, knowing that he would be satisfied before the night was over.

She inspected them closely, noticing with some dread that they were indeed well prepared, knowing the bulge on his pants was no erection. The leader eyed her up and down and said in a very husky tone, "What would a person like you be doing alone at a time like this? Have anything that interests us?" His eyes fell on the small purse on her hand but quickly shifted to the buttons on her coat.

Hitomi remained her cool and puckered her lips, knowing that his attention was completely hers, "I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you."

The leader for a moment looked baffled, eyes furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Quiet suddenly looked back and his unmoving companions threw his head back and let out a strangled cackle, vibrating through the deserted and dark street. He looked back at her and had a pleased smirk plastered on his young face, "I like your style, bitch."

Hitomi didn't flinch at the offending word but instead raised a thin eyebrow at him, almost challenging, "What did you call me?"

The boy scrunched his face in irritation and moved a step closer, "Don't get smart with me, suga. I liked your style, but don't get cocky yourself."

Hitomi smiled and leaned back against the bricked wall, "And what happened if I did?"

A mad gleam flashed on the boy's eyes, a sickening smile tugging upwards on his handsome face, "Oh, suga, I wished you hadn't asked that."

It was with some discomfort that Van left the bar, remembering the chilling air as it hit him smack on the face.

The cool night hair ruffled his unruly locks, and he began trotting down the road. Van looked back once, a lingering smile on his face as he noticed Kaito going from one side to the other, attending many customers all at once. Van shuffled through his pocket and took out his glove, gladly slipping them on while he looked on the road ahead of him, completely empty. He shook his head and looked up, noticing a few specks of lights, glowly. People can get frightened so easily.

He was thankful that his apartment was nearby; he personally didn't fancy the idea of parading through the streets of the city past midnight. Not that he couldn't deal with a couple of thugs, but he had a long day and didn't quiet feel in the mood to deal with that sort of people at the moment. His mind swirled with thoughts of hot chocolate and a warm bed, he smiled. The taste of alcohol still burned lightly on his throat and kept him awake, the warm and relaxing sensation spread throughout his body. But it was soon fading, leaving Van walking to his apartment with the chilling air alone once again.

Van passed a street, a bit alarmed at the stillness of the place, almost wishing that there were someone, anyone. He gave a sigh, noticing the small puff of air rising. The slight hum of the lights above could be heard, the air hitting his face irritating him while the click of his shoes against the pavement sounded. It was still a long way from his flat in his opinion, five blocks away seemed like an eternity.

Suddenly, he heard a low voice, not so far away, but almost unnoticed. If it weren't for the silence of the city, he wouldn't have been able to hear it. The voice continued, almost in a drawl, and had a threatening tone that alarmed Van greatly. He listened more closely, moulding his body against the wall, feeling it with his hand and guided by the direction of the voice. Van noticed where he was heading and felt a sudden chill run down his spine. It was towards the more poverished area of the city, an area Van was familiar as the most common place to happen criminal acts.

He partly wanted to turn back and act as if nothing was happening and the other half wanted to go there, act in the name of justice. It could just very well be nothing, Van thought rationally, but the way the voice was speaking didn't seem very friendly. Van almost groaned, but contained himself. This isn't my job, he complained.

He reached inside his coat and held his phone in his hand, ready to call the police if anything happened. He walked cautiously, aware that the person could have other people with him. His hand reached the end of the wall and felt it turn, he peeked his head carefully, and stiffened when he realised he had been right. He narrowed his eyes under the poorly lit streetlamp. He noticed there were four young men, one was father away, he presumed he was the leader. He squinted a bit more and saw a small shadow, than a voice spoke. Van leaned his head against the wall. It was a woman. He cursed under his breath and signalled for the police, sending the message to his brother. That was all he needed to complete his day, save a damsel in distress.

Van strained his ear to listen to what they were saying, leaned his head closer and bit his lip. The man started speaking.

"Oh, suga, I wished you hadn't asked that." The boy said almost in a laugh, alarming Van on the tone of his voice.

The woman seemed to have smiled, which annoyed the juvenile, "Come on, than. Show me what you got." Her voice had a cheeky tone to it and only seemed to make the boy more ruthless.

Van stepped back and wrinkled his brows. Or the woman was crazy or she…well, Van didn't really know. The woman seemed to think as if it was all a joke! Not to mention there were five men!

"You shouldn't have said that, suga!" the boy roared in embarrassment and heard his companions cackle at the situation. He spun around and the street fell silent, "Shut up, all of you!" The boys stifled their laughs and looked composed again, the boy faced once more towards the woman with that proud smirk again, "I will make you sorry."

"Are you going to babble all night or what? And please, don't call me suga. I have a name, you know." Hitomi smiled sweetly at him, ready to show him a beating of his life.

The boy's eyes shone hatred and growled furiously, and advanced on the woman. He brought back his muscular arm and with no mercy brought it down. The woman smirked and slid to the side, snickering as the boy toppled and fell face flat. The boy snapped his head towards her and was back on his feet, arms out as if he would tear her apart. Hitomi rolled her eyes and jumped on top of the trashcan behind her. She threw herself in the air, flipped, and landed behind the boy. It took a few moments for the boy to realize the woman was no longer in front of him, and when he did, he felt something sharp on his neck and fell on the ground, unconsciously.

Van along with the group members stared at Hitomi with bulging eyes. All at once, the whole gang advanced at her, taking out all sorts of weapons that he had taken with them. Van stood there for a while, but soon snapped out of his trance and took out his gun and stood away from the wall, "Freeze! It's the police, drop your weapons and leave the girl alone!" Van shouted at the juveniles.

The gang stopped in their tracks and turned around, seeing a tall raven-haired man aiming at them with a gun. One of the members eyed him and snickered, "Look! It's her boyfriend!"

Hitomi´s smirk widened. Not letting the opportunity pass, she dropped down on the floor with her hands supporting her weight and brought her leg out, knocking against their legs and making them all fall hard on their backs. Hitomi quickly stood up and took out the gun from the leader, aiming at the gang members on the ground.

"I told you not to call me suga." Hitomi smiled and placed her hand at the hip, quiet enjoying herself at the ordeal.

"I'm sorry we called you 'suga', but please, don't hurt us!" A boy wailed pathetically and sniffled, shielding his head with his arms. The other members nodded their heads and looked away from Hitomi.

Hitomi rolled her eyes and turned, walking towards her purse that had dropped during her warm-up. Behind her, one of the boys stood up and quickly advanced at her. Hitomi yawned and slammed her knee up, hitting painfully his groin. The boy yelled and dropped on the ground, groaning as he cradled his jewel. Hitomi smirked and made a tut, "You should never attack an enemy from the back, hasn't your mother taught you anything?" Hitomi shook her head and walked around the lying bodies. Giggling she passed a very stunt Van, turned around on her heels and said with a laugh, "They are all yours, chief!"

Van blinked several times and gasped, turning around, "Wait!"

Hitomi looked over her shoulder under the lamppost, "What?"

Van looked back at the juveniles, noticed they were either knocked out or too scared to do anything, and jogged towards Hitomi. Van leaned his head forward, catching his breathe slightly, still dazed by what had happened moments ago. He lifted his head and opened his mouth, but quickly shut it closed. During the whole ordeal, it had been hard to see anything, much less inspect a person's face. And now, looking at the woman before him, under the lamppost, he sucked in a breath.

Time stood still for the both of them, the air blew softly passed them, taking with it dead leaves high in the moonless night.

I hope you have enjoyed the 'new' version of the story. I was so embarrassed at the older one after I read it recently! I just couldn't bare it…so…here you have it

hitomi-chan-

30/08/03 (revised-7/09/03) (new version-11/02/05)