Yup, apparently it's goin' further than a one-shot, guys. Hel-lo, new story...Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Btw, I locked myself up in the bedroom because Ryuga won't put that hammer down. Wish me luck ;P

Lost

His eyes open from Draco's gentle song, startled awake by lights before him.

It's all just lost

Daytime swarms angrily, and the smell of curry hits him like a tidal wave.

Your life is so lost

Tsubasa is awake.

Tsubasa's leather-clad feet hit the cobblestones, slap, slap, all around the little market square. All of these little unregistered businesses, independent, technically unemployed because they aren't booked anywhere. No websites, no promotion, no existence other than the witness of a thousand eyes around them, and then they're forgotten. He is thinking like a businessman again, he chides himself.

Eagle is clutching his shoulder fiercely.

Eagle does not fly anymore.

Children run around him, playing in the street. They see the bird perched on his shoulder. They see the missing patches where the feathers should be. "Bald eagle!" they laugh.

Tsubasa glares at them and steps away. They shrink beneath his intense gaze. He doesn't need this right now. Nobody insults his Eagle.

He shuts his eyes for a moment and breathes in deeply the scent of the marketplace around him: fresh-baked roti, hot curry, steaming rice, and the dust of the place. But before he opens his eyes, something flashes at him.

He looks out at the market, brow furrowed - what was it? The sun? He shuts his eyes again. This time he sees it. An afterimage. Like after you stare at a lamp for too long, and the light glares at you even with your eyes closed. It's Draco.

Tsubasa is certain now. Someone is trying to tell him something. The weight on his shoulder dips towards the right; Eagle smells food and is hungry. He buys breakfast for both of them.

Fires blaze in the eyes of men. Spirit soars around them. L-Drago soars towards him.

He feels not the dark aura at his back, nor the held breaths of the bladers around them. His eyes are on the one he followed, doggedly and certainly, now on the brink of death.

Can something this good really be gone?

The same dream, every night.

Brother

If anyone was going to be his brother, he would've thought it would be Gingka. But Ryuga had reached out to him. He had seen a need for companionship, and he had taken it. He had seen that Gingka needed help, and thought only of it, but soon came to realise that really, Ryuga was the one who needed him.

Even if he would never admit it.

A painful hope still clings to Kenta, that maybe it is Ryuga sending him these messages. If such communication could not come from beyond the grave, then Ryuga isn't dead. He knows it is a wild and hurtful logic - that if he spends his whole life clinging on to this, he'll reach the end broken and betrayed that Ryuga has never come back for him. But if he lets go of it, he accepts that there is nothing more to look for.

Kenta's cell phone sits on his gloved palm. Light blinks on its fragile screen, brring, brring. He had called Tsubasa, but had hung up right away. He didn't have the courage to say what he wanted. Now Tsubasa is calling him back.

Kenta steels himself, and then answers.

"Tsubasa?"

"Kenta", says Tsubasa. "What did you need?" His breathing is fast, as if he is running from danger.

"Are you busy?"

"No", he laughs breathlessly, "Just taking a morning run. Is everything OK? You've called me about 5 times this morning."

"Yeah, actually, I...I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure."

"Are you going to be passing by Mist Mountain by any chance? I mean, I know it's far, but I had a question for Dunamis, and you know, he doesn't really have a phone..."

"No, Kenta", says Tsubasa, a bit miffed by the question. "I'm in India. Africa's a long flight. I don't have time. I thought you would know that."

"Sorry. Sorry. I'll ask somebody else."

"Just out of curiosity, what's bothering you?"

"Well...I was...it's nothing, really. Bye."

"Wait, Kenta." Tsubasa's voice is firm, insistent. A voice Kenta has no choice but to listen to. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Um...is it really, really crazy that I think Ryuga's speaking to me sometimes?...From somewhere?" Kenta holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want Tsubasa to laugh at him.

Silence on the other end.

At last, he say, "No. No, Kenta, I don't think it's crazy, just...improbable. You may be wishing so hard that it's seeming real to you. Ryuga's gone", he adds, treading lightly.

"I know. I...I know that. I shouldn't've bothered you. I'm sorry."

"If you're really worried about it, we can get word to Dunamis somehow", Tsubasa tries. "We're the WBBA. We have connections. And maybe he can figure this all out, you know, being more understanding of death and such."

"Really?"

"Maybe. I - wait a second, sorry, Eagle's - " there is a clatter, and the line goes dead. Kenta pulls the phone away from his ear and squints at it quizzically. When he tries to call Tsubasa back, there is no response.

Tsubasa glares at his bird and pops him on the beak. "What is your problem lately?" He scoops up his earbuds. Eagle chewed the cord in half with his sharp beak and then knocked his phone out of his hands. There's a big crack down the screen. Tsubasa glares at the bird.

The outbursts. The plucking. It seems to happen in relation with this whole tragedy. After Ryuga disappeared, Eagle wouldn't sleep. Last night, all through whatever song drifted down, he shifted on the chair and squawked all night. And now this.