She dreamt.

The tower was solid, endless, rising from the ground as if rooted there from ages past, part of the earth itself. It was beautiful, white marble gleaming like bleached bone, almost translucent in appearance. It beckoned for her to try to push her hands through it, matter non-existent for that single second when she'd free herself from this hell.

She stared up in scorn at the sky, too far away to reach; her jailer crouched at the rim of her prison, grinning down at her mockingly, his teeth yellow, his skin sallow. His face hatefully familiar. There was no way out, the tower circling her on every side without any break. White, white everywhere, blue above, brown below, red stains where she'd beaten her hands bloody on the walls.

But she wouldn't scream. She refused to give him anything, not a word, not a look, not a trace of her being.

She groped around the dirt for a stone to cast in his ugly eye and chucked it with all her strength, all her hate driving it that much higher. But before it hit, he disappeared, transformed into a myriad of white birds that squawked down at her in what sounded very much like laughter.

She pressed her hands to her ears, to shut it out, her mind screaming.

And the nightmare continued.


The Scattering: Two

She jerked awake. She always did these days, her consciousness coming back suddenly, unbidden but very welcome, something inside pulling her out of the nightmare. It didn't even unsettle her anymore-- not much, anyway. Nightmares were something she had all the time. What did unsettle her was the brightness of the sun in her eyes. But the concrete was wonderfully warm on her cheek, through her clothes, giving her body a heat it seemed to lack.

She was always cold.

She blinked a few times, trying to keep the demons away, forcing them out of her head. But she was interrupted in her ritual once her vision grew accustomed to the light. She soon noticed the shadow that sheltered her… meaning someone had found her.

She rolled over and boldly met the idiot's stare with her own, having a hard time keeping a clear scrutiny because the sun was right behind her intruder, throwing all they're features into shadow. But what caught her immediate attention was the eyes; the incredible blueness of them, bright even in the shadows. They were a clear, if melancholy blue, serious and beautiful. Her hands itched for a camera to catch the gaze, the confusion as he stared down at her, because that is what indeed he was-- a boy. Blonde, tall, messy hair and serious, almost irritated look. His cheeks had reddened slightly at having been caught staring.

And she couldn't prevent the murmured query that escaped her lips. "… Ishida…" because that is whom her still groggy mind pegged him as. But as soon as she said it, she knew it wasn't him. She hadn't seen him since she was ten. He was gone from her life, gone more than six years ago. Futile to hope when people escaped like butterflies caught in the wind.

The boy was still staring at her, albeit differently, his eyes shocked. "Wha… what did you say…?"

She sat up and stifled a yawn, wondering why he'd made a sport out of watching her sleep. She wasn't much to look at, she knew. "Nothing, forget it. I thought you were someone else," she confessed, waving her hand to dismiss the subject. Her green cardigan flopped over her hand, the sweater too big for her small frame. She stared at the offending material with a raised brow, wondering if she should just take her scissors out and chop the sleeves off. But that would ruin the whole thing and the yarn would come loose…

Her rambling thought was interrupted by his hand on her arm, his voice a strangled whisper. "How do you know him?"

His grip was hard and she shook it off, pulling away and glaring up at him. "What do you care? Kuso, settle down, all right. I made a mistake." She continued muttering under her breath, oblivious to the increased blood rushing to the boy's face as she reached into her school satchel and took out a baggie. It was a lunch baggie, the material a powder blue with gray kittens running after each other as the pattern. She took a boxed lunch and a pair of black lacquered chopsticks out of it and crooned to herself, her stomach grumbling.

She was in the happy process of scooping up some yakisoba when she noticed that the boy was still there, gawking at her. "Nani?"

"I… um." He cleared his throat and bowed his head a bit. "I'd like to apologize for the way I acted. Gomen nasai."

"Oh, ok. Take a seat." She scooted over on crossed legs and offered him a spot beside her. Never mind that the whole roof was empty and there were many other places to sit.

He frowned, confused, but crouched down beside her. And was further surprised when she handed him her chopsticks - the yakisoba noodles dangling from them - and smiled a cheery smile.

"Eat, they're good."

"But I already had my lunch," he protested feebly.

She shrugged. "So, I did too. A couple of hours ago."

"And you are eating again?"

"I get hungry a lot." She rummaged in her pocket again, the sounds of change reaching his ears. "Sorry, but I only have one pair of chopsticks on me. I don't have any diseases, though." She stood up and walked over to the soda machine by the doorway. When she came back, a can of coffee in hand, he still hadn't eaten the noodles. "What, you think I poisoned it or something? They're good. I made 'em myself."

He stared up at her, wondering what kind of lunatic she was to all of a sudden offer him her second lunch when she didn't even know him. Especially after the way he had grabbed her. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Sora." That was all she offered, no family name, just her title. She continued staring down at him, her ruby eyes curious on him. She looked young, but her eyes betrayed her maturity. They looked pained, lost, traced with an ache that was barely there. He absently wondered as he stuffed the noodles in his mouth if maybe he could see her pain so clearly because he had so much of his own. But the taste of the yakisoba distracted him from further thought.

"Sugoi, this is good."

"Told ya." She settled down again, opening her can of coffee and downing the first hot gulp. "Mmm, without this stuff, I'd fall asleep all the time." She offered him the can, but he refused, passing over the chopsticks and the rest of her lunch. She dug in gleefully, and he watched her eat curiously, his mind once again returning to the subject of his brother. Maybe he looked more like Yamato than he thought he did. Maybe she had seen a picture of him. Or maybe she had read the article this morning.

The last had him frowning darkly.

"You still haven't told me your name, you know," she reminded as she passed him the lunch again. Some noodles, a small mound of rice, ginger and pickles, and some spicy shrimp remained.

"Takahashi Takeru. …Why are you offering me you lunch?"

"Because you apologized." She shrugged to hide her surprised look. "And because I'm supposed to make friends."

"So you're new?"

"Hai."

"What year?"

"Sophomore math and science, senior literature and history." She was blushing, so he decided not to probe further. They ate in silence, sharing the food and chopsticks. When the bell rang, he jumped in surprise, oblivious to the fact that an hour had passed.

He stood up, brushing off his hands and his lap and bowed as she stared up at him. "Domo arigatou, Sora-san. Your meal was delicious. Maybe I'll see you again."

"How about tomorrow?"

He hesitated a bit, wondering momentarily if he really wanted someone intruding on his moody afternoons. But then he looked at her cheery, if absent smile and nodded. "Lunch, then. Ja ne."

"Ja!" She stuffed her chopsticks in her mouth and waved after him as he disappeared down the stairs. Once he was out of sight, she pulled the chopsticks out of her mouth and tapped them against her lip thoughtfully. "I guess he's the one Gennai meant…"

Shaking her head to herself, she continued her meal and muttered to herself as the students started leaving for home three stories below her.


To be continued...

A/N: This fic is inspired by many sources, some of which are the videogame Shenmue, the little I know of FLCL, Mikoshi the Japanese noodle house I used to work in, and of course, some of my own dreams, experiences, ideas, and general musings. Everything that isn't mine belongs to its rightful owners, and I claim no ownership. I remind you, this fic is going to have some dark themes, so read at your own discretion. The points of view change here and there, dearies; you have been forewarned. Also, some insaneness may occur.

Oh yeah.

Sugoi means amazing, super, something to that effect.

Kuso can mean damn, or to a harder extent, sht.

Ja ne means goodbye.

Sora means sky and Mimi means ears. Lol.

Review, please? .