Hey guys, remember me? Finally updating the story, yay! This semester's been busy, but I'm getting back into the groove of writing now that it's winding down. I also started up a new story that I will hopefully post by next week :crossing fingers: The story is an AU about Ayane & Kasumi (who else!) and what happens if...hehe, ok I won't spoil it! Just keep your eyes peeled!

Thanks all for reading and reviewing! 3 I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the DOA characters nor affiliated with Tecmo or Team Ninja...tho I wish I was. (

Chapter 8
My First Love

It was as soft as the wind, but it hit him harder than a high kick to the chin. Whatever it was, it made everything around him fade away.

"Nii-san."

Ein had completely stopped running when he heard the voice. Did someone call out to him or, as he thought, hear it in his head? Blinking his brown eyes, the vision of the girl with the long ponytail came back to him. Ein hated how she haunted his dreams at night and during fits in the day, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about her. The images came fuzzy and colorless, offering no other clues except that she was in a forest of some kind. Glancing at the trees surrounding him, Ein didn't feel her presence near. Something told him that she was far away, but calling to him.

"Ein?" a voice did call out. Hitomi had doubled back when she realized that her running partner wasn't behind her anymore. She looked at Ein with concern; he looked like a lost deer.

Upon hearing his name, Ein glanced up at the young girl dressed in gray sweat pants and a white tank top. Then his head throbbed in pain. "Ein!" cried Hitomi, running to help her friend who suddenly fell to his knees, clutching his forehead.

The new image burned in his mind. Ein saw the same young girl in the forest, except her face had horrible bruises and bloody scratches. She yelled at him in torment, running away from some unknown force. Then, as soon as the images appeared, they were gone.

"I'm okay," Ein managed to say, wiping perspiration from his forehead. The throbbing pains faded away as well. He glanced up into Hitomi's soft blue eyes. Ever since the day they met, she had been by his side at the dojo. Not only were they partners under her father's tutelage, they were friends. Hitomi took him to the city to eat German food, taught her the language, and even shopping for modestly fashionable clothes. Student enrollment at Master Reiko's dojo was at an all-time high with the demonstrations Ein performed his physical feats for the locals. Hitomi's father let him keep most of his earnings, and Ein saved his earnings in case he needed something one day.

However, it had been six months since he had known Hitomi and still no clues presented themselves to help link Ein to his past.

"Guess you can't keep up with me, old man," Hitomi laughed nervously. She helped him sit on the ground. "Did you see her?"

Ein nodded silently, watching intently as Hitomi pulled the headband out of her hair and shake it into the wind. He didn't want to describe the look of terror on his dream girl's face. "Yes," he replied simply. Was he really an old man? Ein didn't feel old, and certainly though he didn't look very old. To prove it to himself, he leapt to his feet without using his hands. Hitomi only smirked at his attempt to show-off.

"I was just joking," she said, getting up and putting her headband back in her hair. The two continued to walk their usual exercise route, not bothering to get back into a run. After a stretch of silence, she said, "I'm really sorry I can't help you."

"What?" asked Ein, very confused, and looking sideways at Hitomi.

Upon finally leaving the dark forest, the sun shone down upon the vast mountain view of the landscape. Hitomi turned to her friend, staring down at the ground. "I can't help you remember your past. I know we haven't had many leads, and my father won't let you leave the dojo to look for more, so I'm just apologizing. You're his prized student."

Ein opened his mouth to reply, but didn't make a sound. Hitomi was the nicest person he could literally ever remember meeting, but couldn't say anything. He put a hand on her shoulder. "You two have helped me a lot already, you and your father," Ein said quietly and searching her face for some recognition. "I cannot ask you to do more."

"But I still feel bad," she replied, looking away from Ein to gaze absently at the horizon.

Ein laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have any place to go, so I was just going to stay at the dojo for as long as your father still needs me."

"I know you don't mean that."

Hitomi turned back to Ein with the same smirk as before, but this time, her hands found a resting place on her hips. He smiled back at the girl, amused at the sight of Hitomi pouting. "I have more than I need with you and your dojo," he said, holding out his hands in defense. "Why would I want to leave that?"

There was no response. Ein sauntered up to his friend, as if challenging her bad mood. "I have star bragging rights at the best fighting school in all of Germany. I have my health," said Ein, his eyes scanning the skies as if he was reading a script from the Heavens. But then his brown eyes gazed directly into Hitomi's, a playful flicker burning behind them. "And I have your friendship, in which you have been exceptionally great to me."

Ein moved closer, his body inches away from Hitomi's. He felt the warm breath escape her lips as his hand reached out for hers. Hitomi couldn't believe what was happening, but didn't bother to fight her feelings. She was very comfortable around Ein, others calling them inseparable, but never imagined the extent of electricity flowing through her body as Ein held her hand. Closing her eyes, Hitomi waited for the impact of his lips on hers.

"At least you were smooth in your past life," Ein though to himself, pleased that Hitomi felt the same way he did. Although he hadn't been planning on kissing her, Ein felt the moment was right.

He leaned his head forward to kiss Hitomi. Suddenly, a forceful onslaught of wind and the loud buzz of a helicopter encroached on the couple. Hitomi opened her eyes only for them to be overtaken by debris in the air. Ein covered his eyes with one hand and held Hitomi close to his chest with his other. After a minute, the helicopter passed, taking its intrusions with it.

"What was that?" Ein asked, not bothering to let go of Hitomi.

Silently angry for the ruined moment, Hitomi pulled away from Ein to brush herself off. She was so confused, but more angry. "That's probably some head honcho for the DOATEC labs. They always disturb our peace up here in the mountains with their helicopters. They think they're too important to drive to work like normal people."

Ein laughed, but stared at the shrinking black spec in the air. Something inside of him screamed again, this time, about the bad feeling rising in his mind.

High above the earth, flying through the clear blue sky, the black helicopter began its descent for its landing on a large square of cement, an alien sight considering all of the lush vegetation in mountainous Germany. Holding his cell phone to his ear, Victor Donovan strained his ear to understand the low voice on the other end.

"Well Leon wasn't very inconspicuous, and Helena saw the girl. I can swear, she saw her."

"Do you think she suspects us?" the voice replied.

"She might be a little weary, but I think she took the bait. I told her at the opera house that the suspect is named Ayane, and she's supposedly a ninja from the Masanori forest. Who would believe that shit?" laughed Donovan, eyeing the Earth that seemingly rose up to meet the helicopter. A few drops of sweat dotted his hairline, his fear of heights and flying taking its toll on his body. The voice on his cell phone didn't share his laugh. "Listen, just make sure Ayane isn't caught by the police and keep Helena away from her too, or else she could talk and blow the whole thing."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping a close eye on the both of them," it replied, not bothering to change its monotone timbre. Suddenly, the voice asked, "Do you like sushi?"

Donovan looked at his phone in confusion. What the hell was she talking about? "Why the hell would I want sushi? Just remember to stick to the plan and quit fucking around!"

The voice on his phone ticked at him. "Such horrible profanity, Mr. Donovan."

"I am so mother-fucking sorry," he hissed back.

"I'll stick to the plan, I am a professional," said the voice. "Do not underestimate me and my abilities to get the job done, unlike those other meat heads you employ in your services."

"Uh huh," Donovan muttered, still verbally handicapped as the landing kept going and going…He just wanted to be on the ground and didn't respond to the voice calling his name on the line.

"Donovan…Donovan!" it repeated again. "Where are you? What are you doing?"

"I'm on a flight to Germany right now," he managed to get out. "I have some unfinished business at DOATEC."

"Ok boss, whatever you say," said the voice. "Just keep me posted."

Donovan snapped his cell phone shut. He grabbed the arm rests of his chair so tight that his knuckles turned white. Bracing himself for the impending landing, Donovan sucked in a large gasp of air as the helicopter finally touched down. He did, however, notice the two pilots in front of him smiling coyly at their single passenger.

"So you think it's funny that you don't know how to fly for shit!" Donovan screamed. One pilot only shook his head before turning off the propellers.

Donovan ripped off his seat belt and lunged for a mini-bottle of vodka. He threw his head back, swallowing the clear liquid in one gulp. The burning sensation warmed his dry throat and calmed his nerves. Donovan stared at the large gray building standing menacingly outside of his window and a devious smile spread across his face. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out a picture of a red-headed girl with a long ponytail.

"My first love," he thought silently. "I will awaken you again."

The morning after the vicious murder of the illustrious opera super star, the Great Opera House was closed to the public and wrapped in police crime scene tape. The police chief leaned against his police cruiser while he smoked a cigarette. Somehow, the woman's family managed a very early funeral, cremating the singer's body once the autopsy was finished. A little rushed, the officer remembered thinking. His eyes scanned the height of the building, reviewing the countless facts and leads for the murder. Somehow, a small woman with purple hair had gotten access to the top floor of the Opera House without using the only entrance open, the front door. More specifically, she had cut open the sun roof and broke it open. Then, upon being discovered by a guard, assaulted him and stole his badge. Setting up her sniping rifle, she shot Mrs. Douglas from the stage rafters and ran back through the hall, disarming three more guards on her way back through the window. The chief remembered surveying the height of the hallway; it was twelve feet tall.

"That girl is an acrobat," he said to no one in particular, exhaling the white smoke through his mouth. None of his officers got very far with their leads. This would be the first investigation where the chief was not able to apprehend the culprit.

"Even if she's an acrobat, she's still nameless," said an officer, walking up to his chief. He handed him a cup of steaming coffee.

"She's not on the database?"

"No, sir. None of our records found a match," the officer replied, shaking his head. He handed the chief a manila folder. "We found something else more troubling."

The chief looked at him with furrowed brows. "Great, exactly what I wanted to hear," he replied flatly. The chief didn't bother to open the folder. "What did you find?"

"Upon examining the bullet cartridges for the sniper rifle in the rafters, we found that all of the bullets carried in the case were accounted for."

The chief arched a single eyebrow as he sipped the coffee. "The assassin didn't need an entire cartridge; she only used a few bullets to do Mrs. Douglas in. Three, to be exact."

The officer nodded in agreement. "Yes sir, but this rifle requires you to use a cartridge of twelve bullets." His chief looked at him with a blank expression. "You can't load bullets individually."

Sighing, the chief put his drink on the roof of his cruiser. He could really use a lunch break. "She could have replaced a first cartridge with a brand new one before leaving the rafters."

"True," said the officer slowly. "But…autopsy gave us the caliber of the bullets."

"And?"

"And…they don't even match the bullets of the rifle."

The police chief narrowed his eyes at the younger officer. He didn't like the way his investigation was heading. "What exactly are you telling me, officer?"

"The purple girl either had an accomplice…or we're chasing the wrong person."