Minoa carefully exited the dark room of emptiness, closing the wooden door behind her with a slow, silent thud, now facing an even more wide darkness. The timber entrance clicked in enlightenment as the door shut, the golden doorknob's metal cooling to Minoa's worried, tense fingers. Her soft, rice paper hands no longer trembled; her bottom lip no longer bitten in anxiety. Her unease had faded, and now, nothing remained but a soft concern for the boy, a miniature worry of a tiny sensation – a tiny, microscopic sensation now barely felt with nonexistent strokes and absent fingers.

Candled families stood side by side, just inches apart from each other. Inches, yes, but wide inches, inches that made cockroaches atoms. Brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, uncles, aunts, and even grandparents stood in rows, their dwindling bodies softly lifted by the hands of a hallway. The elderly, more shrunk corpses of wax whispered their last words, bowing in return for the respect they had so long received but never seemed to give back. The children did the same, the taller, livelier bodies bowing their heads. However, they did not imitate for the same reason, no, for their reason was to look down from the height that they had been carried so high for, the height that allowed them to serve their one and only purpose for their whole life – their life of what? Minutes? A few hours, maybe? A day? Unanswered questions.

He's not doing too well, Minoa told herself, trying to decide on whether or not she should re-enter the room, just so she could feel that panic once more, just so she could reassure herself that this was indeed reality. It was not that she wanted it to be a true realness; it was solely for the fact that none of it seemed right. Things were out of place. Untouched silhouettes mysteriously gone, begged apples of trees misplaced, the missing feather of a fluttering bird. He's gotten worse and worse every day. How much longer can he hold back? It depends on his potential, Minoa thought. His stamina and his will make up the shield that block out what's really inside him. The pale haired council sighed deeply, a whistle of exhale full of a rising panic soon following.

Tired, dark brown bags of long wanted retirement hung from her white eyes. They were like window panes, clear, cut window panes that let everyone see through them, and yet, no one wanted to, a present sealed in transparent wrapping that no one desired. Solitary. Then, the shutters of these windows closed, tired of begging. Tired of pleading for just one glance, a second's worth of a peer inside. Tired of everything. Dreaded sigh came from her lips as the long, snowy shades treaded downward, slowly confining its unwanted contents to a long deserved rest.

"Minoa," a voice called. A strong voice.

As if thinking, finally, a person wanted to enter, finally someone wanted to look inside, take a long, pleasant glance into the glass, the shutters snapped open wildly, pushing out its contents a little too close, taking its chance to its highest advantage. Pale contents as pale as the lightless moon at night fell upon a recognized face, and the shudders closed again ever so slightly, readying themselves to snap shut once more.

"What's wrong?" Hanabikai asked. His brown, spiky hair was as perfect as ever, the unnoticed blueness of his eyes baked to a handsome, caring glaze. That one strand of hair fell over the side of his face, not too long and not too thin, the rest of his hair shaped like Derek's but much longer and straighter. Over 500 years old, yet both councils had the faces of twenty year olds.

"What do you mean?" Minoa asked, playing with the golden, cool doorknob behind her. She backed herself up against the door, as if sensing trouble. She didn't know why, though, Hanabikai was someone completely far away from a threat to a close one. Had she become paranoid?

"You've been in there for most of the week," Hanabikai said rather more scornfully than he intended. He gave a light scoff as he smirked, his cheeks lighting up, and the fair color of his skin accentuating attention received. Broad shoulders seemed to corner Minoa, however, they did not. "Are you resenting your duty as a council after so long?" Hanabikai asked, a fake question indeed taken seriously.

Minoa seemed to tense. Her shoulders became stiffer, her features more tightened, her glassy eyes more narrow. "Of course not!" she snapped meanly. "Stop asking so many questions!" she said, her voice now more full of tone and emotion. "We're not teenagers anymore, Hanabi," she nicknamed the council. "You don't have to be my dad!"

Hanabikai seemed amused. "The Minors are expecting us in half a day," he reminded Minoa in a more serious tone. His lips sealed themselves after every word, an impression of talking business. "It should take us that same amount of time to get there. We should get going."

Minoa nodded. "Yeah," she muttered unenthusiastically, avoiding eye contact with Hanabikai. Actually, no, it was more like she was unable to give eye contact. She was too jumbled in her own panicked thoughts, she completely disregarded anything her council mate said. "Let's go," Minoa decided a second after, pulling her back off of the timber entrance, physically yet not mentally letting go. Shoes clicked the floor as she started towards the end of the hallway, followed bye the brown haired, blue eyed man.

"It's annoying isn't it," Hanabikai began conversation, his voice trailing and echoing past Minoa, halting her speed. "That they forbid us from our portals?" Minoa disregarded completely, and turned the corner as a blank, puzzled stare followed her back until it disappeared. Then, the gaze followed.

PoVS

A black, iron tiger wrapped its question mark tail around the center of the west gate, ironically enough, the kanji symbol of west lying between its elongated opening normally called its mouth. Its ivory of black stripes scarred its body, a grayed skin to match. Miniature yet muscular paws suctioned themselves onto the middle of the gate, as if it tried to tread carefully downward to the floor, looking up with its threatening, pearly glare. Its sharp fangs were full of undefined thoughts, some of murder, some of hunger, and some even of lust. Passionate pikes at the top of the metallic gate carefully sewed together an invisible arc over the grassless ground, its base chilling as ice as its top ablaze with heat. Strong light pressed against the tiger's lean, sculpted shoulders as a rusty fang was dusted by a light wind.

Walter sat against the tree running his fingers through his sweaty, hot hair, feeling the perspiration carried on his fingers, hitchhiking onto warm, crooked claws. He felt the medicine patch over his forehead wound. It felt unnatural, a surreal bump on the costume he called skin. He was in no way eager to get out. Whatever happened, happened. The only thing he was going to make sure that happened was one thing and one thing only. Everything else was off topic, unimportant and filled with irrelevance.

"A half a day left," Mark muttered, still locked in his leisure on the ground. The heavy weights strapped to his arms were long before gotten used to. The only bothersome thing now was thinking of moving. No replies were made to his notice; no replies were needed.

However, one presence was interested. One presence that was in no hurry, and one presence that was left completely unnoticed. "Half a day…" it muttered in a rasp to itself. Its low voice was unacknowledged, unheard. "Just about enough time for them, as well as me…" its croaky, groggy voice retched as an uttered low cry followed it. The dark triangles it called eyes pierced through the darkness, keeping their distance from the three teenage boys. "Perfect." Lifting the heavy axe in discolored hands that should and would be tanned, the metallic blade glowered in the bright sunlight, an elongated star of light shimmering off the pale part of its head. The luminous light gave off a thousand blades of light, trickling off into nothingness around it, a rainbow star barely noticed as a hot sun framed the kanji symbol of "love."

PoVS

Through another pair of eyes, these more feminine and compassionate yet not the least bit kind stared off from a certain distance and darkness as well. Eyes lazy and unsightly, a new discoloration to the halfhearted eyelids, the dull, oval-like gaze met no returns.

The eyes stared off into the distance of trees, foresting, corrupt bodies with jagged heads and slouched backs, falling upon three teenagers, and one that just didn't seem to belong. The unattractive trees modeled themselves, taking pride in the best ones the whole swamp-forest had. Blistered leaves rustled wildly, teeth chattering and ground, the few lucky ones having a luxurious fruit to look after. From the slanted eyes found four young boys, one with brown hair with the most idiotic, foolish face put on. One with black hair of handsome eyes and tanned skin, a serious, tight feature carefully locked onto it. One with blue hair, a wild color indeed, however the eyes showed no signals of punk or immaturity, or even unruliness for that matter. They showed nothing but a sort of secretive kindness. A kindness that was real, but didn't seem real. Wasn't it? Or, was it, in fact, the other way around? Lastly, they gazed upon a white haired boy, one of the youngest there for sure, innocent and apologetic eyes, somewhat shy and somewhat not, hiding the real personality beneath an emerald glaze.

Four children? I wonder… the saddened, saggy eyes asked themselves. Are they a challenge? Greenish hands with lines of yellow brought an identical colored instrument to an identical colored mouth. A challenge is what I hope to find, it wished lastly as it began to blow and whistle into the instrument, crooked fingers shifting in a dancing prayer.

From another pair of eyes came a different yet similar sight. The blurriness of its point of view was completely natural as it stared up to the ripples above, hearing the sound of nothing but rushing. Dreadful, yet ignored rushing played the beat of confidence for the event soon to come. The dark, shimmering silhouette narrowed its blackish, bluish eyes. It watched the feet dip into the area above, nervously swaying themselves in a playful and bored manner, done solely out of the absence of a task.

A girl in the group? The silhouette asked itself as it peered to the thin legs above. How special… however, the thought's voice continued throughout. I'm more special than you… it told itself as its fists tightened hatefully at the figure's side.

PoVS

Cool grass beckoned, pleaded for a chance of skin, a chance of caressing the hot cheeks of a distressed female. Their wishes were never granted. Not since they were born, they were not. Their long, wavering fingers sewed a blanket of awaiting success, success that was never reached. A hot circle of sun scorched the ground, yet the surface remained fair, in fact, it was cool. A calm, serene area in the middle of the afternoon. Soft breezes whispered past gossiping secrets never told before. It was splendid.

A violet haired girl was still curled into a tight, confined ball of thought, inside a whole trance of her own. Soft fingers of breeze played and fingered her hair as the violet gaze stared off into space absentmindedly. Lost in thought, the only thing that could bring her back now was…

"Teresa!" a voice shouted through the grass. Her attention was immediately grasped and taken hold of. The long-sleeved female picked up her head and stared off into the empty distance called a road, dividing the two large fields of weeded grass. In the distance, a recognizable figure of Daniel the Life Minor appeared. She slumped back into her ball, giving a questionable glance.

Catching the questioned eyes, he cooperatively answered. "I finally found you!" Daniel declared as he hauled his stop, bringing a tired set of hands to his knees as he breathed heavily, pant after pant filling Teresa's ears as she made no effort to make eye contact. "Good," Daniel muttered, bringing one finger to pick up his glasses. "We can't stay too far apart." Teresa made no reply. Or, it was better off to say, she didn't have to need, or want to make one at all. Not even the simplest nod was desired. Daniel, noticing this, chose to ignore it, another chance given, per say.

Suddenly, another figured came from the towering grass. His fiery blue hair was unmistakable. Kenneth, the Ice Minor. Daniel turned his head immediately, his emerald eyes watching his brother carefully. "What?" Kenneth's older voice asked, flashing a hazy look.

Closing in on Daniel's eyes, you could see Kenneth's reflection, and with that, a growing sight of his bright aura. The redhead closed his eyes, silencing his ten ton breaths and thousand pound pants. Reopening them, his emerald gape intertwined with that of his brother's, meeting the sapphire, icy beams. He could see there was still a confused look on Kenneth's expressions. "Sorry," Daniel muttered, turning back to the floor. "I had to check," he explained. Then, Kenneth knew, flashing a sign of realization into his eyes, his cheekbones, his neck, his arms, his feet, everywhere until it calmed him and soothed him, wrapping over him like the shield of surefire protection.

"I see," the blue, fiery haired boy muttered under his breath, the blank expression slowly fading away into a friendlier one, one with more curved lips.

"Okay, so I've sent soul wires branching throughout the area. They last for about a three yard's worth of radius," Daniel explained, bringing himself back up to his full energized feet. Tired hands no long rested upon strained knees. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, making a second's worth of rest. "If anyone comes to us, I'll know, so don't worry yourselves too much."

Kenneth made a slight nod, impressed once again at his brother's thinking ahead. A chilling breeze brushed by, as if one forgotten to catch up with the winter, completely lost in its route to rejoin its own, running past these spring weather breezes, hurrying quickly away from them, afraid of pointed fingers and discriminating mouths. It was solely afraid of the difference between it and everything else.

Suddenly, as if reacting to the lost wind, Teresa gave a cold shiver. She backed up against the gate, the metallic ribs rejecting any further distance, telling her she couldn't escape everything. Teresa brought her legs closer to her chest and her arms tighter around her knees as intense emotion took over her. It was obvious something had changed about her, the way her body trembled uneasily, and the way she tried to hide that fact so desperately. Something was up, and Daniel wanted to know what. Indeed, he wanted to know the answer, but would he find out with words? Or would he see for himself, the danger that Teresa had sensed all along? Kenneth, as well?

"What is it, Teresa-san?" Daniel asked straightforwardly. He was tired of ignoring things. He wanted an answer. Now. His emerald gaze begged for violet ones in return, however, they purple orbs pulled away from him, looking in any direction but his. The emeralds sighed, unwanted. Teresa continued to tremble, acting like she didn't hear a word Daniel had spoken. And Daniel refused to give up. "Teresa? What are you doing? What's going on?" he beckoned. No answer. Just more trembling.

That…that feeling, Teresa told herself as her whole body shook violently, her will no longer able to control herself. That feeling! That unforgettable feeling! What is it doing here!? What does it want from me!?

Eyes flickered on like demonic, dying lights in the distance of the grass. They were far away, but with their range of sight, saw everything. Saw the quivering body of Miroku Teresa, pleased with a deviant smile. They saw the fiery blue head of hair Kenneth lead, and the concerned emerald gaze behind rectangular glasses that reflected off the sunlight, an affection kind of rejection.

And finally, the eyes began to conceive mist. The narrow, reddened eyes that had the eeriest glow fell upon everyone and everything, giving birth to a blanketing fog of blues and purples, of clouded sight and fake clouds. A snickering, malevolent laugh echoed through the field of grass, unnoticed by the three Minors, one trembling in the awareness of fear and danger, as the other two tried to comprehend just what was going on.

The mist crawled. It crawled and crawled like seeping fingers, filtering through the cold cut grass. The grass blades, ever so evasively dodged waves of mist, curving their bodies this way and that, as if they wanted to become acrobats at a circus, a carnival of fun. To be away from this dreaded place, to be away from death and murder every second. To be away from blood caking their hair after every hour of the day, this is what they tried so desperately to escape from. However, something held them here. Something that controlled every being here, and if not every being, the most powerful ones. The weaker ones were all ready dead. There was no purpose for the weak here. There was only survival of the best. Survival of the fittest, it was.

Blue hissing mist soon began to surround Daniel and his teammates, taking them by surprise. "Mist?" Kenneth mumbled as he turned into the distance finding that he could not see anything but the least bit of whispering blue and thick blotches of fog. It was irritating to find such a sight. Not to mention the most troublesome.

"No way," Daniel denied the natural occurrence. "A mist so early in the day?" Daniel piqued, interest confused. He turned as well, green innocence looking through the fog, trying to pull cloud after cloud of it away from them, searching for any hole, a weak spot inside the puffy sheets of mist.

The blueness hissed like a million snakes, screaming, singing to a melody of death. Stench of dried blood filled the puffy fog, sending waves of nausea to the three teammates' stomachs second after dreary second. Chains rattled, metallic, rusty ones caked with blood themselves, moving as their prisoner stirred as well. Demonic, glowing eyes of bloody red more demonic than Sanshouuo pierced through the fog. Then, the threatening wind really started.

PoVS

The Council team ran through the grassland, their steps shuffling through like a mouse being chased by a thousand cats. They hadn't gotten out for so long, and even so, some of them remained tanned. It was strange, really. They needed the exercise, despite their perfectly fit bodies.

They hadn't been running so fast that they were blurs, however. They were at a gradual pace, fast enough yet not too slow to the point where it was just a leisurely walk, or run. Suddenly, Minoa had a noticeable jolt of shock. Her eyes widened in fear. Hanabikai somewhat widened his eyes as well, wondering what just happened. "What is it, Minoa?" he asked.

"That girl…" Minoa whispered to herself, in no intention of speaking to Hanabikai. "What did she do?" she said lowly, barely loud enough for ears to catch. Hanabikai made a concerned face, a tightened expression.

"Who are you talking about?" Hanabikai asked, his voice steady and prepared.

Minoa gulped nervously, trying so hard to push down the tightest knot in her throat she had ever had. And she was the one that lived for at least 500 years. This meant something big. And not to say the least, real. Teresa… she thought to herself. She pictured her purple hair spilling over her innocent, saddened face, eyes pouted as they watered, striving so hard to help yet not succeeding at the least. A sense of failure washed over her face. I don't have a good feeling about this, Minoa thought as she felt her legs weaken, but not give up their speed. "Be safe," she whispered lightly, as if Teresa could hear her, leaving Hanabikai and the two other teammates with blank, dazed expressions. Then, with a burst of energy, Minoa became a blur absentmindedly. And now, so did the other three.