Author's Notes: Thanks for all the wonderful comments! So I've decided to continue this story after all though updates might be slow partly because I'm very busy with class these days and partly because I haven't worked out the exact plot of this piece yet. Reviewing or sending me messages with ideas would be much appreciated as always. Oh and the rating has gone up a bit.

Chapter 1: Purgatory

Twenty years later…

It was a warm, breezy spring afternoon that day.

There was the same reassuring drone of costumers crowded into the cozy eatery. Cheerfully, they slurped at their steaming bowls of noodles and discussed the latest bits of gossip. Somewhere in the room, a housefly buzzed before proceeding to throw itself dazedly against the window sill.

"Hey Kai! Another bowl straight away!" shouted a sandy-haired man with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time, Chris," called back a rugged man in his forties from behind the kitchen counter. He chopped irritably at a bunch of baby cabbages, his hand moving dexterously through the air.

"Come on! I'm starving here!" The chair creaked nervously as the costumer leaned back and patted his stomach with exaggerated motions. Then from the corner of his eye, he seemed to catch sight of something that piqued his interest and offered a momentary distraction.

"Well, well, I didn't think I'd see you here today, beautiful!" he reached over and would have taken her hand had it been abruptly snatched away. "Come to help out your uncle?"

"Yes, I have if it's any of your business," replied the newest object of his attention crossly. She stood towering over the seated man with her arms folded and her face half-hidden in shadows. "I'm going to waitress here for the next month again and if you so much as try to cause me any trouble…"

"Ah, I wouldn't dream of it," said Chris. He gazed with open admiration at the slender figure with the long sleek black hair and chocolate brown eyes before him. And then at her withering glare back, he quickly held up his hands with an innocent look. "Really, I swear!"

She continued to stand with her hands on her hips, unmoving.

"And I'm a little hurt by the way, Kyuui. Must I constantly remind that we went to the same college and here you continue to act nothing but coldness towards me." He turned away and sniffed in mock self-pity.

"Well, that's only because you're a baka and a constant irritation most of the time."

"But that's what you like about me, right?" exclaimed Chris, completely unnerved. He wore a mischievous smile on his face and leaned in slightly closer, encouraged by the pink tinge slowly spreading over the young lady's cheeks.

Then before she could open her mouth to rebuke the insufferable creature once more, the front door of the restaurant was suddenly thrown open with a resounding bang.

As if on cue, silence enveloped the restaurant. Many with chopsticks half-lifted to their mouths turned to regard the panting creature supporting itself against the doorway. Even the fly seemed to hang midair in flight with astonishment.

The light outside was such a bright contrast against the dim lighting of the diner that she could not at first recognize the dark silhouette. Until that is the sound of her name was being called by a familiar voice.

"David! David, what's happened?" cried Kyuui, rushing at once to the elderly man, "Are you alright?" Her imagination was already envisioning all sorts of horrible disasters. An accident at the lab….Julia badly hurt….perhaps it was even her sister….At that thought, her eyes dilated in terror.

A bead of sweat made its slow course down David's forehead as he struggled to catch his breath. And it seemed an eternity had passed before he could gasp out rather incoherently, "She's waking…your uncle, Kyuui…I must see Kai at once."

Ironically, the day that Saya was to awaken was the night that Hagi lost a part of his soul.

For twenty years, he had avoided contact with society. Shunned it almost by traveling at night time.

He had toured the most beautiful landmarks in Europe, ridden on the roofs of winding trains that bellowed out smoke like long extinct dragons. He had sat and listened to orchestras in Vienna under a moonlit night, had strolled through the Tuileries garden with nothing but the stars to watch over him. He had observed a great deal, had played over and over mournful melodies on his cello, and indeed in many ways had fulfilled his desires for travel and seen much of the world. True, his life possessed little constancy but it was in that aspect that he could at least call it constant.

But as time expanded, Hagi once more craved the comfort of human companionship, of friendship and of love. The sort that is which could not be permanently his. For after all, chevalier as he was and immortal, he still nevertheless possessed a soul which called out and occasionally yearned for indescribable things.

Very rarely, he even allowed himself to think of Saya.

The feeling of longing grew strong as Hagi grew weak. He had eaten little and sleep was of no consequence. Human food had no longer any taste for him and human blood, the true nourishment needed, was impossible to obtain. The very notion of directing biting into an innocent or robbing a blood bank was revolting to him.

So one spring night only a week before and having completely lost track of the passage of time, he had stumbled back into Okinawa lulled there by an unreasonable desire to see some traces of familiarity. And there under the inky shroud of darkness and flung into his path by fate, Hagi had encountered the violent cries of a hulking creature raping a young woman in the alleyway.

She was pined against the dirty ground, her dark hair flung towards one side so that he could not see her face, and a knife pressed to her white throat. Bits of tattered blue fabric was all that was left of a silk blouse.

During his travels, he had seen much suffering in the forms of poverty and disease but never something so shocking, so lurid. In this way, Hagi was still innocent despite his years. Yes, he had killed creatures with his bare hands, heard the familiar noise of metal ripping through flesh, and felt the bitter warmth of blood bubbling into his hands.

But this was entirely different.

This, though all logic told him to step aside and place a call on a nearby phone for the police, ignited a fire in his blood that would not be quenched. He was feeble at having foregone food for several weeks again and the possibility of discovery was high even in the middle of the night.

But there was something about the blackness of her hair which reminded him of someone.

It was this image burnt into Hagi's mind which prompted him to rush unseeing at the dark being and pull it violently aside. Then came the short scuffle and the burning pain of a dagger being pushed ruthlessly into his stomach.

The man was very strong. That or he from years of neglect and idleness had become very weak.

A scent of blood, his own most likely, was permeating the air with its metallic twang. It hung warm and thick in the atmosphere and whispered of death as the two creatures continued to grapple noiselessly. Their struggle soon grew to an animalistic intensity.

He remembered it was at that very instance when the man had pushed him onto the dirty ground and held the blood-stained dagger above him that one of the bandages unraveled. Cruelly, his claws were exposed to the air.

The curved white nails catching the ethereal rays of moonlight glistened and brought a look of terror to the man's countenance. His hand grasping the dagger trembled ever so softly. Already there was the simmering stench of uncertainty written on the dark face as it leered above him.

"My God, what the hell are you?"

"It does not matter," replied Hagi before plunged his hand into the exposed breast.

Droplets of crimson blood rained down upon his face like a warm spring shower.

The reeking odor of burning flesh was overpowering as he bent panting over the crimson dirt. Beads of salty sweat created trails down his face and evaporated quickly from the dawning sun. There amid amid the ruined rubble of what had once been a grand and spacious mansion were flung willy-nilly several mangled and smoldering bodies.

"Saya….Saya…Oh God, what have I done?"

His hands were very red and he lifted them briefly to his face, studied them with a look of utter amazement. Those were not his own.

No, those were that of a stranger. A vengeful killer completely unscrupulous in the taking of life. It was reflected in Saya's eyes as he turned to look at her; that look of obvious horror and something else which he could not interpret.

She had knelt unmoving for what like seemed like an eternity with her tattered stained pink skirts pooled underneath like the petals of a shorn flower. There was the faint tint of red in her dilated pupils as she watched him.

"Hagi!"

He would have collapsed painfully to the ground in despair had she not rushed to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder.

The light pressure was maddening and he pushed her aside as if her purity burnt him. He could not bring himself to meet her eyes either.

"Please look at me." And placing both her hands to his face, she brought his face close to hers. Her palms felt very cool and soft against his hot cheeks.

Much to his surprise and utter disbelief, he saw tears there. She was crying for him, the sinful creature who had just ruthlessly cut down so many human beings.

There was a smear of blood on his cheek and gently Saya wiped it away. He recognized the white handkerchief from her pocket as being part of a set that he had recently given her as a birthday present. For hours, Hagi remembered, he had spent roaming the town the day before looking for a seamstress who was skilled enough to embroider the line of intricate pink roses along the silken edges. That sort of idyllic life he, Saya, and Joel had led seemed like nothing but an idle daydream now.

"It wasn't your fault, Hagi. Those men were trying to hurt us," Saya murmured. She was struggling very hard to speak bravely though tears continued to roll down her pale face.

"Saya…"

"But you must promise me." And her tone of voice suddenly grew very serious and stern. He could recognize it from how she had initially spoken to him during his childhood, a long time ago when she had believed him only a mere servant. "You must promise that you will try your best to suppress these powers and to not kill any living person on my account again. I was frightened."

Then, only then, did she finally break down and sob deep shuddering sobs in front of him. Long white fingers clung desperately to his shirt front as she cried out her pain and sorrow. The revelation of how deep her feelings were finally crept into Hagi's conscience at that moment. In all the years they had lived together, he had had almost never seen Saya cry. True, he had often observed the ever-present melancholy gleam in her eyes even while she laughed but so rarely had she ever shown him her tears….

"Never again, Hagi. I was so frightened. So frightened..."

"Never again," he repeated with a breaking heart, drawing her frail figure into the circle of his arms.

For what else could he say to comfort her?

"I promise, Saya."

That day so many centuries ago in a different setting, time, and life it seemed, Hagi had lost all consciousness of logic and thought. Afterwards, he shuddered to think of the almost feral pleasure he had taken in being able to smite down his enemies. The feeling of the power which breathed in his veins, a sort of blissful sense in losing control, and was as much part of himself as his continuously beating heart. It had called so irresistibly.

Saya had been his guiding conscience that day. But she was no longer here.

He was alone. All alone.

A scream pierced the air. A woman's scream, blood-curdling in its intensity and piercing through the drone which seemed to be drowning out his sense of hearing. He turned abruptly to her direction, confused and mildly irritated at the interruption.

Something warm dribbled from his fingers and he could taste the metallic tang of blood on the roof of his mouth. The city was unexpectedly quiet that night except for far away the piercing sound of a distant siren. And cold, the breeze was surprisingly getting quite cold against his skin. Still somewhat bewildered, Hagi rose slowly to his feet and took several unsteady steps toward the girl. She was obscured by thick black shadows, pressed against the brick wall, and trembling from nerve to nerve. Why such terror…

"Stay back! Please don't come any closer!" Each of her rapid gasps mingled her hot breath into the cold night air and her heart beat held the intensity of a rabbit staring its predator in the eyes.

He held out his hands to signify that he meant no harm.

"Monster, stay back!" Her pupils dilated in the darkness; she was half in hysterics now.

The word "monster" brought him to an abrupt halt. Monster….monster….so he was alienated to the category of monsters now…

Ever since the night of Amshel's death and he had lost his only human arm, he had never been able to properly look at himself. By avoiding mirrors, by detaching himself each day as he applied the white bandages, he was able to prolong what was inevitable.

That dawning sense of realization that never again would he be able to hide himself behind a human skin. That he could never bring himself to touch her using his own sensitive fingertips without bruising her fragile skin. He was a monster in the truest sense that he did not belong anymore to society; that he was a murderer of mankind.

That he had broken a promise yet again…

With a shuddering gasp, Hagi fled into the darkness.

And she was left alone in stunned silence, alone with the white drained corpse propped up like a huge rag doll against the brick wall.

It began to rain.