"I don't know who you think you are.
I don't know what you're doing here.
I don't know what's going on here,
I don't know how it's supposed to be…"
-The Byrds

As the evening progressed, the pleasant high Davina was entertaining as a result of her afternoon adventure with Shuichi waned from near euphoric to a minute but consistent sense of satisfaction. Following her return home, she had turned her attention back to her responsibilities, cooking a simple dinner and preparing her school bag and clothing for the following morning—for a brief interlude, she had considered attempting to accomplish another page for her research paper, but quickly vetoed the idea, knowing that she wouldn't have the discipline needed to concentrate on such a task, given her current mindset.

As promised, Shuichi had sent her a short message upon his arrival home some time after their parting, to which she had responded positively. However, there had been no further contact to follow—odds are he was busy with similar tasks to ready himself for the week ahead, and contemplating their outing, same as she was. Davina thought it best to let things be as they were, and, once her remaining obligations were completed, she decided to spend the remainder of her evening relaxing—her favorite method of doing so involved a lengthy candle-lit soak, something she hadn't indulged in since her move to Japan.

She drew a hot bath, pouring a generous amount of strawberry scented bubble bath into the tub as it filled, the force of the pouring water prompting small mountains of sudsy foam to form on the surface. As the water began to slowly rise, Davina tugged off her sun dress and undergarments, tossing her discarded clothing in a small heap near the door to be collected once she had indulged herself. After tying back her hair, wiping off the day's make-up, and washing her face, she applied a thick charcoal mask, covering her entire visage with the dark gray clay. Once the water was at an acceptable level, she turned the faucet into the off position, and lit several candles that stood on the edge of the porcelain basin—within a minute or so, the delicious scent of harvest apple flooded the space, adding to the overall atmosphere of the room.

Before she slipped into the tub, Davina turned off the overhead lights, the tiny flames of the candles providing plenty of light for her to maneuver herself slowly into the delightful embrace of the steaming water. Her skin recoiled for the first few seconds against the sudden sensation of the potent heat, but quickly adjusted—once she was amply submerged, her entire body swiftly grew lax, her muscles relaxing as she rested her head against the lip of the tub and sighed with contentment. Her eyes fell closed of their own accord, and she smiled to herself, finding pleasure in her choice.

She lingered in the bath until the water had faded from near boiling to tepid, and the charcoal mask had dried out on her face, her skin having grown tight against the dark clay that covered it. Pulling the drain plug, Davina exited the tub and quickly rinsed off the remaining suds that clung to her flesh—she wiped away what she could of the mask with her wet hands, then blew out the candles and left the washroom, heading into the atrium of the bathroom with a fresh towel in hand. Following up with a washcloth as she eyed her reflection in the mirror above the sink, she wiped away the streaks of the charcoal that remained, then patted her face and body dry. After applying a bit of moisturizer and combing out her hair, she quickly brushed her teeth and exited the bathroom, leaving the door cracked behind her.

With the damp towel wrapped firmly about her lithe form, Davina ventured into her bedroom and slipped into a fresh white tank top and a pair of loosely fitting red shorts, feeling fairly satisfied with her efforts. A quick glance at the digital clock that sat atop her nightstand informed her that it was well past nine, and while she was not overly tired, the urge to climb into bed and swaddle herself within the warmth of her sheets and blankets was immensely appealing, so she did just that. With her phone in hand, she lazily perused the internet, checking her emails and responding to a text from Selina that she had somehow missed earlier. It didn't take long for her to begin to drift off, and after a short while, she was nearly asleep.

But before oblivion could come forth to claim her, her phone vibrated suddenly within the confines of her hand, pulling her back from the void and demanding her attention. She cracked open an eye as she raised the device to her line of sight, all traces of sleep immediately fleeing as she recognized the name of whom the call was originating from. She hesitated, but only for a moment, then clicked the answer button and raised the phone to her ear, even as a lump of anxiety grew within her throat.

"Hi Mom," she said into the receiver, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hello, Davina," came the curt response, Mitsuyo's voice, despite its softness, sounding cold and almost disconnected—just as it always did. "Did I wake you? My apologies if I did—I didn't think you'd be asleep yet, given your fondness for late nights."

"No, it's fine—I was just laying in bed," she replied, pulling herself into a sitting position and risking a quick glance at the bedside clock—it was just after ten thirty, which meant it was around seven thirty over in Denver—despite it being the start of Sunday over in Denver, her mother was never one to sleep in late, even on the days she did not have work. "How are you?"

"I'm well. Your father told me he spoke to you earlier and that you're acclimating well over there—I trust that you're keeping up with your class work?"

"Of course," Davina responded, feeling almost as if she were being scolded. "To be honest, I expected my courses to be more difficult than they are, but the semester has only just started."

"Don't get lured into a false sense of security— Chishiki No Eda is a far cry from some lackluster community college. I'm certain you'll be challenged more as the year progresses."

"I'm sure I will," she said, trying to keep her voice from growing defensive—unfortunately, this sort of banter was typical with her mother—all throughout her high school years, she had spouted the same rhetoric. It seemed like nothing was ever good enough to please Mitsuyo, and while Davina had come to accept that fact, it didn't make the notion any less difficult to deal with. "Dad said you finally got that promotion at work—congratulations. I hope they aren't working you too hard."

"Thank you," her mother said dryly, her words lacking any enthusiasm. "I'm overseeing two of the most prominent districts in Denver now—the CEO of my company would like me to take on a third within the next six months."

"Isn't that a bit much?"

"It's an honor to be considered for such a thing—if I'm offered the appointment, I will not refuse it—it would be bad form to do so. You need not be concerned."

"Ah, well…that's great, mom. I'm…uh…happy for you."

"I'm sure you are—your father mentioned that you had a date earlier today." The tone of her mother's voice suggested that this information was displeasing to her, and despite her discomfort, Davina rolled her eyes at the stern comment. Mitsuyo seemed to be against the idea of her dating as a general rule—she had openly disliked her previous boyfriend, and had discouraged her from getting romantically involved with anyone. While her father was privy to the more intimate details of her love life, her mother knew only the bare minimum, and Davina was desperate to keep it that way—she couldn't image that her mother's reaction would be a positive one, given her rigid stance on such things.

"It wasn't a date, just a meet up with a new friend," she argued, struggling once again to keep her voice stoic. She could feel heat creep up the backside of her neck and took a long breath, shielding the phone's receiver with her hand to keep the sound from her mother's ears as she exhaled forcibly.

"Good—you don't need to date, that will only distract you from your school work. No man is worth risking your future," Mitsuyo stated plaintively—Davina could picture her face in that moment, severe and unyielding, her arms crossed firmly across her small bosom with a frown etched deep into her thin lips.

"Nothing is going to distract me, Mom. You know that," she responded, attempting to keep the exasperation from her voice. "It never has."

"No it hasn't—and it's best to keep it that way."

Now having gone from entertaining feelings of mild irritation to full on frustration, Davina decided it best to change the subject—now that she finally had her mother on the phone, it seemed as a good a time as any to ask the questions she had long been putting to the side. There was no good transition to the topic in which she wished to breach, so she simply threw the first of her inquires out into the universe, casting aside her trepidation at doing so.

"Mom, I have a question about a pendant you have—the necklace with the fire opal. Do you know the one I'm referring to?" she asked bluntly, not sure what to expect as a reply.

A lengthy moment of silence followed, and for a second, Davina thought their call had disconnected.

"I do," her mother finally responded, the tone of her voice remaining flat and unaffected by the bizarre question. "Why do you ask?"

"Where did you get it?"

"Why is that relevant?"

Davina fought the urge to groan, further annoyed by her mother's attempt to belay her question.

"I just…need to know."

"It was a gift from my mother," she admitted after another long bout of silence.

"Do you know anything about the stone? Where it comes from?"

"No—why are you asking such strange questions? Have you been drinking?"

"Of course not!" Davina exclaimed, raising a hand to rub at her temples, which were now pounding with the presence of a looming headache. "I was just curious. I came across a similar pendant at one of the shops around here, and just wanted to know if there was any correlation." She voiced her lie, knowing that she couldn't reveal the true events that had taken place, lest her mother truly think she was under the influence.

"There is not," Mitsuyo said immediately, her voice growing dismissive. "It's simply an opal, nothing more. Any other odd questions you'd care to ask?"

The snide air to her words prompted a boldness in Davina that did not often reveal itself. Before she could truly consider her words, she spoke, the inquiry flying forth from her lips almost as if said by a voice that she harbored no control over.

"Actually, yes. Does the name Kurosuna mean anything to you?"

"How do you know that name?" Mitsuyo asked harshly, her words dressed in ice. For a brief second, Davina could have sworn she detected a sudden rasp of fear in her mother's voice.

Again, she lied through her teeth. "The shop owner said that the pendant originated from the Kurosuna Family—I don't know who they are, just the name."

"Promise me you'll never go back to that shop," her mother demanded, sounding as if she were speaking through gritted teeth. "You didn't purchase the pendant, did you?"

"No, I had no use for it."

"Good." There was no mistaking the relief in Mitsuyo's voice at her admission.

"Who are they, Mom?" Her mother's reaction had prompted a new collective of questions, all which Davina knew better than to ask—in all honesty, she was surprised she had managed to get this far. Whoever the Kurosuna were, her mother feared them—that much was obvious. In truth, such knowledge only stoked her curiosity further—she wanted to mention the alien looking creature she had encountered, but could not do so without revealing the truth. Given her mother's feedback to what had already been shared, she knew better than to even attempt such a conversation.

"It's not relevant, Davina. I've had enough of this conversation," Mitsuyo announced bluntly, and Davina knew that was the end of their discussion. "You are not to go back to that shop, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom," she offered agreeably, knowing that there was no point in arguing her mother's request—it hardly mattered, seeing as that particular instance had only been a fabrication.

"You best get off to bed. We'll speak again soon."

"Okay, Mom. I'm sorry if I upset you." She was truly apologetic that she had caused her mother obvious distress, but at least the conversation had made something absolutely clear—her mother was hiding something from her, and whatever it was scared her. That notion in itself was more than enough to prompt Davina to investigate further, although she had little idea of where to begin her search.

Her mother bypassed her apology completely, opting to not acknowledge her admission of remorse. "Good night, Davina." The line went dead before she could respond, the subtle click of the disconnected call echoing within her ears. She withdrew the phone from her ear, reaching over to plug in her charger before resting it atop the nightstand. All desire to sleep had fled in light of the conversation that had just taken place, her mind attempting to process the information she had just acquired.

Mitsuyo had said that the pendant she owned had been a gift from her mother—Davina's grandmother, Eri Ishihara. But her grandmother was dead, and had been for the better part of three years—Davina's grandfather, Mamoru, had passed away only a year prior to his wife, following a brief battle with pancreatic cancer. Eri had died unexpectedly, in her sleep—the autopsy reported that it had been a brain aneurysm that had claimed her life, but Davina believed it had ultimately been a broken heart that had ended her. She and Mamoru had been married for nearly seventy years, and she had withered rather quickly following his death—Mitsuyo had attempted to convince her to relocate to the states so that she could be among her family, but Eri had refused to leave the home she had built with her beloved husband. She had eventually died there, succumbing to death's embrace while resting within the confines of their marriage bed.

Davina could recall both of her grandparent's funerals with startling clarity—she had been little more than a child at the time, fourteen for her grandfather's, and newly fifteen for her grandmother's, but the images of their faces, both pale and oddly peaceful when laid out in their caskets, were forever burned into the banks of her memories. Both were held in the Shinto tradition, with lengthy wakes that only hosted a small number of people in attendance as the death rituals pertaining to their faith were performed. She could recall the period following the funerals, in which she had assisted her mother in collecting pieces of bone that remained among the cremated remains of both her grandparents with special chopsticks, and placing them in sacred urns—her brothers hadn't been willing to participate in the ritual, finding the entire process morbid and unsettling. Davina hadn't been keen on such a thing herself, but found herself compelled to help, finding some semblance of comfort in the cultural traditions that accompanied death.

After all was said and done, these ornate urns were placed within the Ishihara grave site, which sat within the Kumosetchi Cemetery. The family plot was a small one, but enough for its intended purpose. Once Mamoru and then Eri were laid to rest, Davina and her mother had decorated the site with flowers—she could remember their vibrant bursts of color against the dense gray stone, and even smell the musky sweet aroma of the incense that had been burned.

If Davina recalled correctly, the Ishihara home still remained—as the only living Ishihara child, Mitsuyo had inherited all of her deceased parent's assets. She had entertained the idea of selling her childhood home at one time, but had never followed through with the task. Although her memory at just where her grandparent's home was located was a bit vague, Davina believed she could find it easily enough—she reached for her phone and pulled up her internet browser. After only fifteen minutes, she had managed to discover the information she was seeking—the Ishihara House sat within the Chihayaakasaka village, near the mountains of Kongozan. It was the only village within the whole prefecture of Osaka, a rural area rich with history and a far cry from the busy metropolis that was the city. After mapping the destination, she discovered that it was just an hour or so away from her university, via a bus route.

It seemed a good place to start—perhaps, if she was lucky, she would uncover more information about this strange Kurosuna Family. It was a long shot, but one she wasn't willing to bypass. After some deliberation, she decided to head there Tuesday, following the conclusion of her last class—seeing as Tuesdays and Thursdays hosted only two of her classes and the second of those classes ended fairly early in the afternoon, it would afford her plenty of time to make the trip and return home at a reasonable hour. It was either that or wait until Saturday when she had no school obligations to make the venture. Truth be told, Davina wasn't keen on waiting that long.

With a plan in place, Davina returned her phone to its previous position and attempted to regain her comfortable position in bed. It took nearly two hours for her to finally fall asleep, her mind running amuck and refusing to quiet down. When she awoke early the next morning, she was still a victim of the headache inspired by her mother, her temples pounding and forehead throbbing with pain. She forced herself to adhere to her typical morning routine, popping two aspirins before leaving her apartment and making her walk over to the train station on sluggish legs.

Much to her displeasure, her headache had yet to abate once she reached the campus. Davina ambled off to the lecture hall for her first class, praying to a higher power that the day would go by fast.

. . .

Upon his return home, Shuichi was eagerly greeted by his mother, who immediately began to ask questions regarding his afternoon. He kept his answers vague, waiting until a break in the conversation to announce that he needed to head to his room in order to prepare himself for school the next morning. Once within the privacy of his bedroom, Shuichi sent a quick text message over to Davina to inform her that he had gotten home safe. A response arrived rather swiftly, but he chose to ignore it for the time being, knowing that he would easily shirk the things he needed to accomplish in favor of conversing with her further if he elected to view her reply.

His mind was awash in thoughts of their outing, replaying little moments that prompted him to smile. Things had gone better than he had anticipated, especially considering the sour start to their rendezvous, and for that, he was truly relieved. Shuichi was glad he had been able to learn more about her during their time together—at least now, his instinctive pangs of desire towards her held some merit, as she was no longer a total stranger. It was quite obvious that she too was entertaining similar feelings, and the notion pleased him greatly. Perhaps there could be something there, something valid and real, not just the byproduct of lustful wants. He knew it was far too early to make such a distinction, but for what it was worth, he felt hopeful that things would continue to progress in such a manner.

After fulfilling his obligations, Shuichi settled down for the evening, inspired to do a bit of light reading. He perused his book shelf, eventually withdrawing his copy of H.G Wells' The Time Machine from among the packed rows of novels. He made himself comfortable in bed and began to read—only when his eyes began to grow heavy with exhaustion did he abandon his efforts and give into the urge to sleep. He awoke the next morning, feeling content and well rested, ready to seize the day ahead.

For a Monday, the day seemed to fly by rather quickly, and before he knew it, he was back home, readying himself for his evening shift at the Koeda Café. Before he hit the door running, he decided to send a short message to Davina, inquiring about her day and wishing her well. Seeing as he did not have the time to await her response, he placed his phone within the confines of his pocket and headed off to work. By the conclusion of his shift, Shuichi was somewhat surprised to realize that he hadn't yet received a reply—in fact, the message had gone unread in its entirety. It struck him as unusual, but there was little he could do about it. He found himself entertaining feelings of mild concern, but forced them away—odds are she was busy with something, although that something could be any number of things.

Once he was home for the evening, he turned his attention to completing what remained of his homework, and upon completion of that, Shuichi reclaimed his book and took to reading once more. Thoughts about Davina still lingered, despite his attempt to distract himself. On impulse, he checked his phone once more, only to find much of the same as before regarding their correspondence. It had been nearly two hours since he had last looked upon it, and he felt his worry grow from meek to significant. Perhaps something was wrong—he considered giving her a call, but hesitated, not wanting to come across as overzealous. Rather than act on his urges, Shuichi decided it best to let things be—if tomorrow came around and she failed to respond to him, he'd call her then, if only to calm his concerns.

It took him quite a while to fall asleep, and even once he had managed to do so, he experienced a rather strange dream. Davina was present within this mental plane—her face and hair were the same, but her pale flesh was covered in odd gray markings that painted her from head to toe in a bizarre, symmetrical pattern, and her eyes, which were now a startling shade of silver, appeared to glow with unspoken power. She wore a strange pendant about her neck, one reminiscent of an opal—it glittered as the surrounding light caught the bauble, sending sparkling fractals to paint her bared collar bones. A curious marking sat perched upon her throat, one that he had never before noticed—the flesh was slightly discolored, several shades darker than that of her porcelain skin and with a shape that vaguely reminded him of a dentate leaf.

Within the dream, Davina reached out to touch him, and that simple connection sent a massive shudder racing down the length of his spine—there was a force behind that touch that made the very cells of his physical being howl, although Shuichi wasn't sure if it was a reaction to pain or desperation for more. It took him a moment to realize that he was bleeding profusely from an injury that consumed the flesh of his shoulder—it was a deep laceration, one that he could almost feel, even though he was submersed within the confines of a dream.

Shuichi watched with curious eyes as Davina withdrew a small blade from an unseen holding, and swiftly drew the sharpen edge over the tender flesh of her palm, rendering a shallow gash that immediately prompted her own life force to pour forward—her blood was an odd shade of lavender, and seemed to teem with a life of its own. He stood motionless as she took her purposely wounded hand and placed it upon his own abrasion, her ichor melding with his tattered flesh. Swiftly the agony abated, and he could feel the ruined skin regenerating beneath the warm moisture of her palm. By the time she removed her appendage, the wound was healed over, the only evidence of there being any injury being the splatters of crimson that remained to paint his now smooth, unblemished flesh.

From there, he descended further into oblivion, his awareness of the dream as it played out in his mind's eye tapering off into nothingness. Shuichi awoke with a start, startled awake some hours later by the presence of a small, familiar hand touching his cheek. His eyes shot open, able to visualize his surroundings in spite of the darkness, and he found himself alone within his bedroom. He quickly sat up in bed, finding his brow drenched in sweat, his neck aching with tension that had not been there previously. A hand immediately moved to clasp his shoulder where the wound within his dream had lingered, only to find it unscathed.

Reaching for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand, Shuichi raised it to his lips and drained the tepid water that remained. He wasn't one to often have such vivid dreams, and the presence of this one had genuinely alarmed him. His mind had somehow painted Davina as an apparition, much like himself—such a thing was impossible. Her scent was unmistakably human, and she hosted no more spirit energy than that of a typical mortal. There was no trace of yoki anywhere within her whatsoever—of this, Shuichi was absolutely certain. Why his brain had opted to portray her in such a manner, he did not know. The longer he considered such a thing, the more he realized that no true explanation existed—it was simply a ploy of his imagination, which apparently had decided to go rogue, if only for a brief interlude.

A quick glance over at the clock informed him that it was hardly past the hour of three in the morning, and he sighed heavily with frustration. With the sudden influx of adrenaline that had accompanied his abrupt provocation from sleep, Shuichi knew he wouldn't be able to easily fall back into the arms of slumber. He lay there in bed, attempting to calm his rapidly beating heart and soothe himself—eventually, he was able to relax some, the tension in his neck lessening as he lie there with his eyes closed. But sleep didn't come, not for a long while. When his alarm went off several hours later, he woke with a loud groan, feeling as if he had merely blinked his eyes, only to be roused once more. With a full day of school and work ahead, he certainly wasn't eager for what awaited him.

. . .

Author's Note: Thank you to Somethingerror for leaving me a wonderful review! I apologize for the absence and the panic, but I'm so glad you decided to jump back on board and give me another opportunity. Readers like you are the best source of encouragement for writing. I just lost my drive with the original incarnation of the story, and some of the later scenes I just felt were a bit out of character for Shuichi, so it was either completely abandon the story or attempt a rewrite, so here we are. Thank you for your kind words, I very much appreciate you and your response.