Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It all goes to Bisco Hatori and all the people that will sue me if I claim otherwise.

A/N: (9/6) It's been awhile, I know. I'm sorry :( But here's the next chapter! I'd like to of couse start off by thanking everybody who is taking the time to read and review on this story. I really appreciate it. Also, I would like to clarify something about this chapter. There is an OC. I know that many of us, myself included, are not fans of OCs, but I promise, he is necessary to the plot and to the general awesomeness of the story. But please remember what I said at the beginning of this: there are no pairings. That includes our lovely Mr. OC. There will be no romance or love between him or any of the characters. That being said, he should be interesting. Mr. OC has quite an interesting role and past, so I hope that you will give him a nice warm welcome. That is all :)

Enjoy!

Chapter 10

The moon still hung in the sky, a bright white orb set against the pitch of black. The Houshakuji manor lay underneath it, absorbing the luminescence, making the white exterior of the mansion seem to glow. It was too early for any activity in the fancy, rich neighborhood, and nearly everybody was asleep. Nearly everybody.

Light, quick footsteps pattered through the finely manicured lawn, leaving imprints in the wet blades. They would be gone before morning. Light blonde hair flew through the air as a small, childlike head turned to see if he was being followed. Seeing nobody, he picked up the pace, and it was only a few moments before the tiny body sprinted into large cluster of trees surrounding the estate. It had almost been too easy. Not a single person had noticed. He didn't stop, however, and he forced his feet to make no sound against the twigs and various other materials on the ground. He knew that he wouldn't be caught at this point, but his martial arts training was kicking in like an instinct, and he couldn't hold it back even if he'd wanted to. It was ingrained in his blood. He let that same instinct guide him through the small woods, allowing him to dodge trees and bushes that he couldn't see and taking him to his destination.

After a few moments, a large iron gate loomed ahead, and the boy sped up. Taking a running leap, he easily cleared the barrier, landing on the other side at a crouch. The concrete of the sidewalk that he'd landed on didn't even scrape his hands. He straightened slowly, letting caution guide his movements. He strained his ears, listening for any sounds. Crickets sang all around him, but aside from that, there was nothing.

Several houses yards away, however, a small, black car sat frozen next to the sidewalk. Seeing it, the small boy jogged towards it with silent feet. He opened the door and slid in, closing it behind him. The glass separating himself from the front of the car rolled down, revealing a chauffer dressed in a black uniform and hat. The man stifled a yawn, and asked, "Where to, Monsieur Mitsukini?'

Hunny fastened his seatbelt and reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out a folded sheet of white paper. He stretched his arm out to pass the paper to the driver on the other side of the car. As the man took it and looked over it, Hunny asked, "Can we get there and back within the hour?"

The man began to plug the coordinates into the GPS on the dashboard of the car. It's green luminescence cast an eerie light on Hunny's young face, and small beeps filled the car as the driver pushed the buttons. "Not a problem, monsieur," the French driver said as he pulled out of the parking spot and sped down the empty street.

Hunny leaned back in his seat and let his head fall back against the dark leather. His dark brown eyes slid closed, but he wouldn't let himself fall asleep. No matter how tired he was, he had to stay awake just for the next few hours. There was something he had to do. Something he had to make sure of. Eyes still closed, he unfolded the sheet of paper on his lap. Raising his lids, the boy looked over the address on the paper with tired eyes and reread the list of books newspaper editions that he had written down. I'm going to figure this out, Haru-chan, He thought quietly. His hand curled into a small, determined fist, and a serious expression wrapped around his face. I promise.

It was a pitiful sight. The curly black haired teenager gazed out the window of the limo with a frown on his face. How interesting…He had never seen anything like this. Feigning disinterest, he placed a bored expression on his face and rested his head in his hand. Beyond his reflection in the window, he could see the crumbling buildings. Their cracked and rugged faces sagged from their metal skeletons, and there were a couple that had massive sections that had fallen away. Several of the windows had been knocked out, leaving gaping black holes like eyes. The streets were relatively clear, with the exception of the bright patches of green grass that poked through the large cracks. He had seen pictures of Tokyo before, and they were nothing like this.

The most repulsive, however, were the people. He watched them as the limo drove by. Their reactions were all the same once they caught sight of the royal vehicle. Confusion, as though they weren't quite sure what they were seeing. Eyes widening as the realized that their suspicions were correct. A gasp of fear and surprise, and then they'd all spin around in a flurry, rushing for some sort of shelter to escape. They ran into each other, tripping and knocking others over in their scramble to find a building to hide in. It was almost like watching rats.

Next to him, the white haired dignitary, Rasputin, if he remembered correctly, was leaning back against his seat, his long hands folded on his lap. He gave a light chuckle as one of the running men twisted his ankle and fell to the ground, clutching the wounded appendage. "Gomon, would you be so kind as to radio one of the vehicles behind us and have them pick up that man? The hospital is apparently running out of subjects for the psychological experimentations."

Gomon, the hooded man across from them muttered darkly in response. With a smug smile, Rasputin turned back to the boy. "We're in the ghetto of the city now. All of the Blanks were moved to this area, leaving the central area blemish free. Pretty soon, it will be inhabitable enough for Tojiwarans to reside in, but that won't be able to happen until the area is thoroughly cleansed. For now, Ezekiel, my boy, you will be residing in the government mansion."

Ezekiel felt his eye twitch at the informality with which the man used his name. He turned with a dark glare in his hazel eyes. Annoyance filled every pigment of green and brown as he said in a lofty, superior tone. "Lord Ezekiel, if you don't mind."

Rasputin raised his eyebrow in a mocking, amused way. "Lord?" The man reached into his pocket. "Well, you'll have to forgive me, my lord, but from what I've heard, that title no longer belongs to you, now does it?" he said removing a bright white envelope with a crimson seal from the cloth of his suit. Ezekiel's eyes widened at the sight of it, and he lunged forward, reaching for the letter. Rasputin pulled his hand backwards, holding the letter out of reach.

Ezekiel grit his teeth. "You give that to me!" he cried loudly, stretching his body as far as the seat belt would allow and reaching his hands as far as they could go. Rasputin laughed coldly and continued to twist the letter away, dodging each lunge. Across from them, Gomon rolled his eyes.

"You really want to know the contents of this letter, don't you?" the white haired man said, knocking a pale hand away and holding the envelope behind his back. Ezekiel ignored his words and tried to reach around the man's middle. "You already know most of it, don't you? Care to be refreshed?" Suddenly, a hand twisted in Ezekiel's curly black hair, and it pulled, forcing the teenager's head to be held against the glass window of the limo. Ezekiel's eyes widened as he realized what had happened. Rasputin leaned in close until their faces were inches apart. "Which parts do you not remember?" he whispered with a sick smile, clearly enjoying his performance. "The part where the Imperial Family called you a failure? Or a disgrace? Pretty strong words, don't you think?"

Ezekiel's lips curled in hate. "Shut up!"

"Or maybe the revocation of your title and position? Your inability to accomplish even the simplest of tasks?" He tapped the paper of the envelope against Ezekiel's nose.

The boy shook his head despite the tight grip on his hair. "You don't know anything," he growled almost animal like.

"Or maybe," Rasputin said much more seriously and cruelly, "the parts about how weak you are." At his words, Ezekiel stopped struggling. It was as though a somebody had punched him in the chest. "How you are unable to obey. What a coward you are? Yes," he said at the boy's shocked expression, "I know all about that event. It's no wonder His Majesty has cast you away. A dishonor."

Ezekiel felt tears prick his eyes as deep, overwhelming irritation flowed through his blood. But underneath it all was a sense of shame and embarrassment. How dare he bring that up? He felt his cheeks involuntarily flush in anger.

Rasputin chuckled lightly. "Oh, my, it seems I made you cry." The hand released his hair, and Ezekiel's body fell a few inches, and he slumped in his seat. Rasputin leaned back against the leather material. "It would be wise for you to try to keep me pleased. As you know, your redemption depends heavily upon how much I have deemed you acceptable. You want to return to Tojiwara with your status intact? You must go through me first. Remember that."

Ezekiel hung his head against his chest. Letting the resignation and the weakness that came with it wash over him. Weakweakweakweakweakweakweak…

"Rasputin," Gomon suddenly cried. Ezekiel rose his head in surprise. The urgency with which the man spoke confused him. The hooded man was staring out the window, and as the limo drove past, he spun around to watch the retreating object. His hood fell off, revealing his icy eyes and black hair.

Rasputin turned his gaze toward the window, and so did Ezekiel, curious to see what had alarmed the cold, unfeeling assistant and General. He peered through the glass, anxious as to what he might see. However, to his surprise, there was nothing there. The same crumbled buildings, the same cracked streets, and the same suffering beggars. The only thing there was a girl.

"Stop the car!" Rasputin called to the driver. The limo careened to a halt, and Ezekiel was able to see her better. Was this who had gotten the attention of the leaders of the invaded country. He could only see her back as she walked. Her skinny frame was clothed in filthy, ragged cloths, and long brown hair swished against her back.

"You saw her face, didn't you?" Gomon said quietly, watching her retreating form.

Rasputin nodded curtly. "But of course. It's definitely her. You don't mistake those eyes." He placed a hand against the window, and a cold smirk wormed its way across his face. "Who would have ever have guessed that it would be this easy to find you, little kitten?"

His voice caused a shiver to run down Ezekiel's spine. It was laced with evil intent, sure to cause pain. The men gazed intensely at the girl with hungry eyes, and Ezekiel frowned. There was nothing remarkable about her that he could see. In fact, she looked just like any other of the people he had seen today. Dirty, small, unmemorable. "The girl? Who is she? What's so special about her?"

Gomon glared at him with icy, piercing eyes, and to his shame, Ezekiel cowered underneath them. He could practically feel himself shrinking. "Shut your mouth, brat," the military leader hissed. He turned to Rasputin. "What do we do about her?"

Rasputin turned back around in his seat and held his chin with his hand. "Radio in and have her followed," he said with command in his voice. His wicked grin grew wider, showing teeth and making him look rather insane. "We can't lose her again, now can we?" He tapped on the window separating them from the driver, and the limo started driving again. As Gomon started to bark orders into the radio, Ezekiel turned in his seat to look out the back window. The girl rounded the corner and disappeared. Brow furrowing, the black haired teenager crossed his arms and leaned back into the leather seat, wondering why his guardians were so concerned about such an unextraordinary girl.

"You look awful."

Kyouya sat hunched in the mahogany chair with his face in his hands. He looked up at his father's words with a dark, lost look in his bloodshot eyes. The lavender circles that had rung them a few days ago had darkened to a deep purple that stood out on his pale white face. His uncombed hair fell on top of his glasses, and his hands were shaking with exhaustion. "You don't say," he muttered hoarsely.

His father looked down at him from behind the orderly desk. Kyouya thought that he might have seen a flash of concern behind the man's square glasses, but it disappeared before he could blink. The boy turned his gaze toward the ground. Of course, Kyouya thought bitterly. Ootoris don't feel things like concern. God forbid you show any emotion or care.

He saw his father turn towards the window behind the desk. The sun shone through it, and Kyouya wished that he would close the blinds. After staying in the darkness of Tamaki's room for so many hours, the sudden change of lighting was hurting his eyes. Everything was too bright. Too much sun. How could a place be so damn sunny? It was disgusting. He wished that it would rain. That fit his mood so much better than this awful, never ending brightness.

He didn't even know why he bothered coming. He wished he hadn't. He wanted to be back at Houshakuji mansion with Tamaki and Kaoru and Hikaru and Hunny and Mori.

"You know, I was going to have you marry her," his father said to the window. A sharp pang pierced his chest at the mention of her, and he felt himself flinch. He wouldn't think her name, so he willed the pain away and tried to avoid those six letters.

Kyouya looked up from the ground, noting his father's stance. The man stood awkwardly by the glass, as though unsure whether to look at his son or outside. His glasses flashed in the light, hiding his eyes. A move that Kyouya knew very well. He gritted his teeth. The light annoyed him.

"Well, you clearly didn't spend much time on that plan," Kyouya said scathingly. "I would have never of done it." His father raised an eyebrow at the tone, and Kyouya himself was even surprised. He had never spoken so rudely to the man before. But he had never lost somebody before either. How dare he say something like that… How dare he bring her up. He didn't know her. To him, she was just another chess piece to use and play with. She wasn't a real person to him like she was to Kyouya.

"But I've learned something. Kyouya-senpai is really a nice person, isn't he?"

"We cared about each other," Kyouya continued much more softly, "but not like that. She was like Fuyumi, but even if she wasn't, I would never have brought her into this." He waved his hand around the cold, immaculate office. The sharp corners, the almost robot like organization. Everything he used to love, but now he hated it. He hated the icy color of the walls and the crisp stack of papers on the desk. The pressed suit and the mechanical tick of the silver wall clock. No personality, no emotion, no anything. He hated it. However, he pulled himself together and straightened in his chair. "But you didn't ask me to come to discuss your failed arranged marriages, did you?" he asked wearily. "Why am I here?"

His father turned from the window and watched his son for a moment. Kyouya briefly wondered why he was scrutinizing him, but the thought quickly vanished. It didn't matter. He just wanted this to be over as soon as possibly. His father sat in the large chair and folded his hands together. "I understand that you are in a lot of pain, my son," he said, "but the way in which you are handling it is detrimental to your goals."

Obsidian eyes blinked. "My goals?" he asked with a frown.

The older man gave a solemn nod and pushed his glasses up his face. "There are many things you still have yet to accomplish, Kyouya. Your future is at stake here. As painful as it is, you cannot afford to let yourself get distracted."

"Distracted?" Kyouya breathed, processing the words. Suddenly realizing what was being said, Kyouya's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped in shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. A distraction? A nauseous feelings churned his stomach. How could he say that? How could he even imply in any way that she was…that she had ever been just a mere distraction? A hindrance? A hot anger rolled through him, setting his nerves on fire and making his blood boil. He clenched his fists and glared at the man behind the desk who had always seemed so far away. It was hard to imagine that he had ever been anything more than the robotic copy of a man. A harsh, deep chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. Of course. I shouldn't have been surprised.

The bewildered robot seemed for the first time to be at a loss of words, but the black haired teenager felt no pity for it. It looked at him from behind those obscuring glasses. "Kyouya…"

The laughter suddenly froze in the young man's throat. Without warning, Kyouya shot to his feet, making his chair fall with a clatter. The anger in his chest crescendoed, and it took all of his strength to keep himself from reaching across the oak desk and hitting his father. It seemed to course through him like a dragon, ferociously roaring and breathing fire through his system. It almost scared him how much he wanted to harm the man before him. The cold, scheming man that cared only for his company and profits and numbers. He was so angry. He could hear the old rational part of his mind scolding him. Calm down. He saw the faces of his friends in his head. He couldn't afford to do anything foolish. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. In a strained voice, Kyouya said, "Consider your message delivered." With that he spun on his heel and marched across the office.

Behind him, his father stood up. "Kyouya!" he called out, stretching his hand out to his son, but before he could say anything else, the boy walked across the threshold and closed the door. The resulting thud seemed louder than it actually was, and for a moment, Yoshio Ootori stood frozen in place, his hand still hanging in the empty air. With a sigh, he slowly lowered the hand and collapsed in the expensive leather chair. He rested his elbows on his desk and rubbed is eyes wearily. "Oh, Yuki," he breathed, addressing the wooden picture frame on his desk, "what they hell do I do with this?" The image of the black haired woman behind the glass looked at him unmoving.

A few floors below, Kyouya continued his quick pace, ignoring the blurriness that was starting to gather behind his eyes. A few drops of water ran down his cheeks, and he furiously wiped them away with the sleeve of his red sweater, leaving dark streaks on the material. Control yourself! he scolded, but his admonishment did nothing for him. That had been happening a lot over the last two days. It was as though his eyes had a never ending supply of tears. It was like drowning. The inability to breathe properly, the mucous building up in his nose and throat, and the water. All the water. All control had been lost. Not really paying attention to what he was doing, he collapsed against one of the many spotless gray walls in the building. His back hit it with a thump, and he slowly slid down it, feeling his clothing bunch up as he slid. When he hit the ground, he brought his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He buried his face in the black fabric of his pants. Oh, if the boy he was six months ago could see him now. Broken. Everything was broken.

"Kyouya?" a voice said, and the black haired teenager raised his tear stained face. Tamaki stood before him with a worried expression on his face. His violet eyes met Kyouya's, and he reached out a hand.

Kyouya took the hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He didn't even bother to smooth his wrinkled clothing. The mask had already shattered irreplaceably, and no amount of glue or debt would be able fix it. "What are you doing here?" he asked his blonde friend, noting how thick and clogged his voice sounded.

Tamaki pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Kyouya, who gratefully took it. As the black haired boy lifted his glasses to wipe his eyes, Tamaki started walking to the large glass doors at the front of the foyer. Kyouya followed him, and their footsteps clacked against the cold tile floor. "We know how hard it is to deal with your father," Tamaki said quietly without the usual exuberance and enthusiasm. The French boy dragged his feet against the floor, and a frown marred the normally cheerful face. His hands were buried deep into the pockets of his black pants, and his posture was hunched and folded. It was as though all the energy had been sucked out of him.

Kyouya followed him silently as they each pushed open one of the double doors and walked into the blinding sunlight. Holding his hand up to cover his eyes, he looked up at the glowing orb in the sky. White clouds drifted lazily through the clear blueness like sails floating in a sea. He didn't even realized that he had stopped in the middle of the long pebbled driveway until Tamaki sat on the ground by his feet.

Confused, he looked down at the top of the blonde's head. "What are you doing?"

Tamaki looked up at him before leaning back against the grey pebbles, folding his lanky arms behind his head. "I'm tired," he said closing his eyes. Kyouya blinked in surprise at how dark his friend's eyelids were. It almost looked like he had gotten punched. "You do realize that you're lying in the middle of my father's driveway?" he stated, raising a dark eyebrow.

Tamaki gave a rather ungentlemanly snort. "Who cares?" He blindly reached up a hand and lightly tugged on Kyouya's black pants, urging him to join him on the ground. With a light sigh, Kyouya bent his legs and lowered himself into a sitting position before lying back on the smooth pebbles. They were hard against his back and rubbed against some of the many knots in his muscles. It felt sort of pleasant, but Kyouya didn't want it to. He wanted to feel the pain of the knots in his back, he wanted the stress and the hurt. Anything to distract him from the more obvious, more piercing hurt that he was going through. A breeze rustled the trees and blew black and blonde locks of hair around two pairs of pale, frowning faces. Turning his head slightly, Kyouya looked at his best friend. His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was deep and slow, but Kyouya knew that the French boy wasn't sleeping. How could he sleep? It was inconceivable, impossible…

"You know," he said, "they're going to get worried if we don't get back soon."

Tamaki hummed lightly. "I know." His eyelids lifted slowly, revealing sad, violet eyes. "It's strange, don't you think?" he asked, his gaze focused on the sky above the friends. "How even though everything has changed, nothing has."

Kyouya folded his hands on top his stomach as he watched the clouds roll across the sky. He could see the blonde through the corners of his eyes. "Explain."

A sigh escaped Tamaki's throat, and he waved his hand in a circle, addressing the environment in general. "Everything is just the same as it was before," he whispered. "The wind still feels the same. The sun is just as warm and bright, and night falls at the same time, and it's still just as dark. Even the stars. They haven't changed at all." He turned his head to the side, and seeing the movement in his peripheral vision, Kyouya did the same. Their eyes met, and Kyouya wasn't surprised to see water running down the blonde's cheeks. "You know what my mother did this morning?" he asked, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch. "She tried to make me eat breakfast. And it confused me. While I was too sick to even think about eating, there were people doing just that downstairs. And people are at the park right now, playing. Or going to the museums or shopping or just fooling around!" The boy raised his fist and slammed it against the pebbles on the driveway. "How does that make any sense?" he demanded, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps.

Kyouya didn't respond. He didn't think he could even if he wanted to. He knew what Tamaki was thinking. How was it possible that life could go on while their world was crumbling apart around them? How could people go on with their daily routines or laugh or smile when somebody had been stolen from the earth. They didn't know her, but surely, when a life as pure and bright as hers left the world, it left some kind of affect. Why hadn't everybody frozen in their tracks at the horror of what had happened? Why hadn't they dropped everything at the shock of it and thrown their hands up in the air in despair? Why hadn't they all shed a tear for the disappearance of one of the only truly, wholeheartedly good people left in the world. How could all these people not know that she was gone? It was silly, he knew. Life doesn't stop with death, and none of these people knew that she had existed. But she did. She had stood next to him and rolled her eyes at him and said he was kind and stood up to his tyrant of a father and saved his best friend and made him think and smile. She had existed and lived, just as much, if not more so, than he did. Shouldn't that count for something?

So he couldn't answer. Not really. Because while his best friend was looking for some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance, he had nothing to offer. For he was just as confused and just as outraged at this realization of facts as Tamaki was.

It was sunset by the time that Rene reached her destination. Suki had warned her that the journey would take awhile, but she didn't know that she would be walking for the majority of the day. She knew that she was close, though, when a large wall of brick cropped up on the right of the sidewalk. Exhausted, she gave a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall. Her breaths came in small pants, and her tiny, thin limbs were shaking. A wave of dizziness ran over her as she braced herself up against the brick.

"I guess," she panted, "going six months without eating or walking much will do this to you." She rolled her shoulders a bit and winced as the hard brick put pressure on one of the bruises on her back. The bruises didn't exactly help matters along. A cold gust of wind rushed through the street, and Rene shivered, squeezing her eyes shut and hugging her body tightly. When the wind had passed, she tiredly opened her eyes a small amount. Her lids felt heavy, but it was almost night time, and there was a curfew. And she really didn't want to be caught outside after that. Her heart jumped at the thought of the stories that Suki had told her about those who had stayed out too late. She pushed herself off the brick and started walking again with a slight limp. She had to lean a bit on the wall with one hand, but she was able to move fine like that. And so she shuffled down the sidewalk.

The cold sweat running down her face made her glasses slide down her face some, and she wearily pushed them back up her nose. Almost there now, a voice in her mind said, but Rene wasn't quite sure how she knew that. Nor did she really care as she dragged her aching feet along the concrete sidewalk. She just hoped that it was right. And so she thanked every god she could think of when she saw the gates to the school a few meters ahead of her.

The sight of the gate seemed to give her a new energy, and a relieved smile lit up her face as she picked up the speed to her hobble. It was tall, and the iron that it was made of curved in elaborate spirals down the bars. When she reached the gate, a strange burnt smell assaulted her nose. Her tiny hands took hold of the bars, and she peered inside. She gasped. What kind of school is this?

Beyond the bars was the most extravagant campus she had ever seen. Huge, beautiful buildings loomed before her, their shadows covering the entirety of the campus. They were almost like miniature mansions, Western in style and ostentatious to the point of ridiculousness. A large fountain of baby angels rested in the middle of the long, curving walkway, and it even had a clock tower. Rene's mouth dropped open. A clock tower? What kind of school had a clock tower? As her eyes roamed the campus, they crossed across the bars of the gates, and she saw a small glint of light. Frowning, she zeroed her gaze on the curving bar, and another gasp escaped her throat. "Gold?" she exclaimed and brought her face in for a closer look. Indeed, there were a few flecks of the bright metal scattered along the bent and damaged gate. The majority of it had obviously been picked and scraped away, but there were a few flakes here and there. Rene rolled her eyes in exasperation and disbelief. "Gold. They had put gold on the gate." It was no wonder that the school had been one of the first targets of the invasion. Suki had told her that this had been a school for the super rich before the invasion, but seriously? "Damn rich bastards," she muttered and froze at her words, which sounded so familiar. Where had she heard that?

She shook her head. She could figure all of that out later. She was at her destination, but she still had more to do if she wanted to get out of Japan. Turning her head to make sure that nobody was watching her, she experimentally shook the gates. A few loud clangs rang out into the street from the clashing metal, and her heart leaping into her throat, Rene froze. She strained her ears, listening for the clatter of footsteps or the bangs of guns. Nobody came though, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Okay, obviously that's not going to work. As she thought that, a light bulb lit up in her mind. She looked down at her body. She was very thin, after all…Sucking in her stomach and crossing her fingers for luck, she slowly and cautiously pushed her body between the bars of the gate. It was a tight fit, but after a few seconds she was on the other side. She was in.

She turned around to face the collection of buildings before her. There was nothing holding her back now. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk down the curving walkway. Above her, the sun continued to sink, making the shadows of the buildings darker and longer. Now that she was inside, the damage to the campus was all the more obvious. Rene turned her head this way and that trying to take it all in. Obviously the Tojiwarans had felt not mercy for the decorate architecture. All the windows had been punched out, and the glass was still scattered across the ground, crunching beneath her shoes. A few gaping holes had been blown into the buildings, and large pieces of rubble lay like corpses in the sea of weeds that could have once been called a lawn. A few vines scaled the face of the brick, which was a deep black that didn't seen right to Rene. She strode toward the side of one of the structures and ran a finger down the side of it. Pulling her hand away she saw a streak of light pink on the surface of the brick, and a black dust now coated her finger. Her eyes widened. Ash. She wiped her finger on the fabric of her dress. That explained the burnt smell.

She turned her head upward and spun in a circle, looking at her surroundings. For some reason, the sight of the destroyed campus made her heart ache. A deep sadness took her over, and it bothered her to see the poor, desolate school like this. It was an awful feeling that filled her chest. A lump started to form in her throat, and Rene swallowed it down. It was overly extravagant and needlessly luxurious, but still, she could see that it had once been beautiful. And warm and welcoming. She could imagine how warm it was. Tears stung in the back of her eyes. She pressed her thumbs against them. "This is stupid," she muttered before lifting her lids again. She placed her hand against the fabric of her shirt, feeling the necklace underneath it. She couldn't stop now.

Forcing herself to continue, she hugged her arms around her thin frame and started walking again. The building before her seemed to grow taller and taller as she walked, and soon she was enveloped in its shadow. She had to crane her neck to see the top of it. The South Building, a voice in her mind said. The stairs leading up to the large double doors were cracked and discolored from lack of care. The handrail felt rough beneath her skin as she held on it to ascend the small staircase. At the top of the stairs, the tall double doors seemed much taller, and there were deep dents in the surface. It was as though they had been rammed with a battery or something. Hesitantly, she ran a hand across its surface. "There's something strange about this place," Rene muttered quietly. There was something about it that she couldn't put her finger on, and it bothered her. Another gust of wind blew through the campus, and her clothing and long hair billowed and danced in the wind. Taking a deep breath, Rene wrapped her hand on a ornate door handle. Guess it's now or never, she thought, and with all the strength she had left within her body, she heaved the door open.

The hint of a burnt smell that she had smelled outside transformed into a strong, potent odor that assaulted her nostrils. A small gagging sound escaped her mouth, and Rene covered both her mouth and her nose with her hand. The fire must have started on the inside, she thought as she slipped through the doorway. She turned back hesitantly towards the large door and felt nervous butterflies beat their wings within her stomach. She didn't want to close the door. It would feel too much like being trapped if she did, but then again, there were still patrols in the streets. What if they noticed the open door and came to investigate? With a slightly shaky hand, she reached out and pushed the door back into place with a soft thud that resounded throughout the room.

Turning around, she looked to see what kind of room she had entered. She spun around to get a full view. "Wow…" she said, gazing around her. She stood in the middle of a large foyer that was several stories tall. There was a large hole of sky where part of the roof used to be, and a large chandelier lay crumbled and shattered on the marble floor along with various pieces of debris. Despite that though, certain parts of magical beauty still remained. On what was left of the ceiling was a large Renaissance painting. Rene could only make out bits and pieces of it due to the damage from the smoke and the elements, but what was left clearly showed what a masterpiece it was. A large staircase, or what was left of it, covered in the charred remains of a red carpet wound up the building and gave way to several balconies and catwalks. A few hallways branched off in the bottom floor, and several pieces of broken stone busts littered the floor. The walls were charred too, and the remains of several frames hung lifeless and empty against them. The dying light of the sunset cast a few spots of light into the foyer and onto the floor. Rene walked further into the building until she was standing in one of those illuminated spots. She watched her shadow grow longer and longer against the floor.

A calm feeling settled within her chest, slowing down her heartbeat and evening out her breathing. Whatever apprehension she had felt when she had entered the school ebbed away, leaving a strange feeling inside her. She couldn't ever remember feeling something like this before. Like she didn't have to worry about anything or have to be concerned about getting hurt. Like nothing bad could happen to her here. It was a peaceful feeling almost like being…"Safe," she said quietly, hitting the palm of her left hand with her right fist. That was it. She felt safe here. There was something about this place that made her feel protected and okay. It was something akin to what she felt immediately after she awoke from her strange dreams.

All of a sudden, a dizzy feeling overwhelmed her. It clouded her head, making it fuzzy, and multicolored dots exploded across her vision. With a small groan, Rene lowered herself to the ground and crouched on her knees and her right hand, while she pressed the heel of her left hand into her forehead. In the dark recesses of her mind, a scene played out.

A sparkling chandelier hanging above the red, carpeted ground, emitting a bright light that extended all across the foyer. A long majestic staircase made of light pink marble rising up and then extending into two separate ones that wrapped around the building. The sparkling floor, clear enough to see one's reflection. Masterpieces of art all over the place, on the ceiling, in elegant frames. Fluffy paintings of scenery and smiling figures playing or studying. Moving patches of yellow and blue, never stopping, always in motion. A few long windows giving magnificent views of the garden outside, and a large clock tower, ringing out the time with several long gongs…

Rene shook her head furiously, trying to get rid of the spots blocking her vision. She felt weak all of a sudden, and her exhaustion was all the more pronounced. Hallucinations, the logical part of her mind said. It made sense after all. She was more tired than she could ever remember being, and despite the fact that she had already eaten that morning, the was still undernourished, and it had greatly affected her stamina. But still…Rene furrowed her brow. Could that really have just been a hallucination? Is there any chance that it could be something else?

Suddenly, several pairs of heavy footsteps met her ears. Rene raised her head in confusion, still disoriented from her dizzy spell. Her eyes widened as a deep, angry voice called, "It came from over here!"

Rene gasped and quickly pushed herself to her feet, but she had risen too fast and nearly fell over again. More spots formed in her vision, and partially blind, she groped through the air to find an object to steady herself with. Her hand met the smooth, charred marble of the staircase handrail, and she gripped it with white fingers and knuckles. She leaned against it, putting all her body weight on top of it. She felt her stomach drop and her heartbeat speed up as a heavy boom echoed across the large foyer as a large door was forced open.

"There she is!" another voice called, and Rene blinked furiously to ease her vision. When all the spots had left her eyes, her eyes widened, and a huge, all consuming terror seized her. She opened her mouth, drawing in a breath for a scream, but the suddenly, a gun was pointed at her, close enough for point blank. "Don't you dare," a voice growled, and Rene bit her lip, holding the scream in. Her breaths came in huge gasps, and her chest rose and fell rapidly against her shirt.

Before her, four tall, bulky men dressed in black stood glaring at her with their lips curled in dark, condescending sneers. Their clothing was run down and ragged like hers, and they too were covered in dirt and filth, but what she didn't have were the big, heavy looking guns that each member of the party carried at the ready. The man at the front, who was pointing his gun at her, took another step forward, making it where the cool metal of the weapon was pressed against the top of her chest. Rene turned her head away, and to her shame, a small whimper escaped her throat. A hand reached out and seized her chin, and Rene's head was forced to turn so she had to look directly into the armed man's eyes. The man had the scariest face she had ever seen, all anger and rough edges that looked like all he ever did was glare and intimidate. Dark red hair spilled down onto his shoulders, and Rene felt her body start to shake with fear. The man barred his teeth at her. "Now," the man said, "state your name! Tojiwaran scum."