Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (/Sigh), the chapter is partly mine but mostly not (because I added, deleted, and changed a lot of things /Shot), and the only thing that's mine is...whatever I changed. Maybe. I think.

Anyways, I changed some character profiles, and whatnot. So if it's a disappointment compared to the original, I'm sorry. (Even though I kind of like mine better even though I'm a little biased. /Stabbed)

So most of the chapter belongs to ShellyCullen.

And I don't own Shugo Chara.

Chapter 1

Enter The Prince

"Amu!" The voice rung in her eardrums. On instinct, she quickly threw her hand out a swiped the air. When nothing was gripped in her fist, she opened her eyes.

"Missed me!" a cheerful voice teased. The loud voice was hard to ignore as Amu stared up at a giggling Yaya.

"What is it, Yaya?" she asked in an exasperate tone. Amu thought Yaya surely knew how tired she was from the last mission she was assigned. Commander Kee had begun assigning her the night shifts, and she was getting little to no rest.

The young girl pouted and suddenly became airborne as she curled into a ball and landed next to Amu on the bed, which groaned in protest of the weight.

"The commander asked me to give this to you," she stated as she passed a piece of crumpled paper to the pinkette from bandage wrapped fingers. Amu urgently grabbed the paper and swiftly read it as her golden eyes scanned the paper.

Hinamori Amu, age 15.
Report in vault by 8:05 hours for mission assignment.
Commander Kee

Amy groaned as she rolled her eyes. "How many more until I get a vacation?" she asked herself.

"Well, you're the best!" Yaya interjected, as if the comment was supposed to make the older feel better.

Amu rolled her eyes, yet again, and said, "Other people just don't know how to hold a gun." She sighed. "It seems like they just pick you up in a second when you've been seen blindly shooting a gun at an enemy. What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a watch!" she teased. Amy gave her an irritated look as Yaya giggled to herself. "It's almost seven. You have time."

Two years ago, Amu would have laughed in your face if you told her she'd be waking up before twelve during the summer.

So much has changed since then, Amu thought to herself.

She glanced over at Yaya, who was now lying down on her back beside her. The girl's cherubic face, which used to be full of innocence and curiosity, was no longer so; the bags under her eyes and the hollowness of her checks took it away from her. She wore the same thing most days: A brown t-shirt that clung to her body, blue pants made of nylon that were tucked in a pair of thick, brown hiking boots. Her hands, the most delicate parts of her small body, were calloused and wrapped tightly in layers and layers of bandages.

Amu stood from her sitting position on the bed. "I'm taking a quick shower, so it's fine if you want to grab something to eat in the lunchroom." Yaya sat up, beaming with a ray of happiness Amu may never understand. The pinkette looked away, unable to look at Yaya's expression as she tried to suppress the memories of her own suffering.

"It's fine. I'll wait for you," the girl smiled.

She walked across the small bathroom, and cranked the knob in the shower and tub combination to turn on the water before peeling away the thin and bland clothes she wore and placing them into the basket of similar, dirty clothes. Amu reached to touch the water, in slight hopes for it to be warm. It never was. She jumped in, already used to the low temperature. She welcomed the cold sting, anyways, needing something to wipe off the tiredness from her if she was to complete the mission. Rubbing her eyes and splashing in her face, Amu felt as refreshed as she could get and stepped out. She wrapped a towel tightly around her body and stood before the mirror.

The person that stared back scared her sometimes. Her face was thin, and her cheeks were nearly hollowed out. She had small scratches on her face and scars that ran across her neck and collarbone. Her hair, which looked almost purple in its wetness, seemed to be the only thing that had even remote traces of life. Amu's arms were thin and strange. But it was now was her body at its strongest—or as strong as it could get.

She sighed at the reflection as she tore her gaze from it, going to dry her hair.

After tangling the hairdryer out of its wires and drying her hair to some extent—the hairdryer had as much strength as someone fanning her hair dry—she pulled a relatively clean shirt from the top drawer and worn pants from the bottom. Tucking the tight, long-sleeved v-neck into the waist of the fitted nylon pants, she pulled a belt out of the drawer and looped it through her pants. Amu grabbed a pair of black boots, similar to Yaya's, and slid them on as she tucked the hems of her pants into them.

Most of the clothes they wore were now embedded with thin plates of steel, and they were required to cover everything from the neck down. Some died from heat strokes during the summer.

Amu brushed her hair, the only part of her body she could appropriately care for, and put it into a tight French braid with an X clip on the side of her head to keep her bangs from falling into her eyes.

She stared into the mirror, waiting for something to mystically change, or for the girl she was two years ago to be found. That girl didn't appear.

Amu walked out of the bathroom to find Yaya using Amu's laptop. It sat on her outstretched legs as the screen lit up her face. Yaya clicked and tapped the buttons with clumsy and cut fingers.

"Ready?" Amu asked, hoping Yaya would let her hands rest. The girl smiled and closed the portable computer with a click.

"Yeah."

Amu got to the vault at eight. Commander Kee stood tall in his decorated uniform. Some people joked that he had took it off a dead high-rank soldier. He says it was his father's. But it was to everyone's common knowledge he was only at the age of seventeen. His face was grave and his hazel eyes hard as he watched Yaya and Amu approach him. His gaze lightened a bit when he saw them.

Sometimes, I wonder was he was like before all this started, assuming he was only fifteen then, Amu thought.

"Sleep well, Hinamori?" he gruffly asked me, his tone carrying nothing by authority. He was a natural born leader.

She shrugged then nodded. "As well as it gets," she mumbled to herself, knowing he couldn't reply to such an answer.

Silence filled the room as she looked around the vault, the heart of their base. Steel walls lined the large room that was big enough for hundreds of army tanks. Amu wonders how they could keep it so secure. Then she was reminded that it's underground. But she still wonders how they could find a place like this.

Ultraviolet lamps lit every inch of the room, leaving no place for darkness to settle. There was a large table in the middle for the Commander and anyone else for mission briefings and reports.

The vault was silent, until she came in. Her small feet clanked against the lighted flooring, and the shoes she wore seemed to be styled for the mission. She resembled a small child, even more so than Yaya because of her height, but her expression was cold and nearly froze the room. The long, blonde tresses that fell from her head were shockingly perfect, as if she worked all day and night to get them right, and only a thin, black head band kept any hair from falling into her face. She walked with grace and delicacy, stepping before the commander.

Amu looked around for anyone else. "Where are the others?"

Commander Kee shook his head. "This is it. You and Mashiro are going into town today."

"If I may, sir," the small girl quipped, "we'll need a backup team on standby in case something happens."

The Commander nodded. "I know. I am aware of the dangers, but you two are the best we have. Teams are going to be unnecessary for the time being due to the fact that most of our men have been injured in the last mission.

"I'm sure you all will be able to handle it with little trouble. Just make it back before nightfall."

His words of little trouble had difficulty convincing Amu as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Today, you'll be delivering care packages to the other survival camps across town. I assume you'll be there and get back on time." The two nodded. "Good."

He pulled two bracelets out of the box that had been strapped to his belt loop and secured it around their wrists. "Because the last mission had multiple casualties, I'm issuing the two of you tracking devices the tech team designed. They're prototypes and need to be tested."

Need to be tested? Amu thought.

The silver band of metal beeped once and silenced. It'd be difficult to assume the thing as anything other than an accessory. As Mashiro headed to the vault door and Amu followed, a hand gripped her arm and pulled her back.

"Amu, be careful," Yaya sniffled. Amu nodded as she glanced at the hand that gripped her arm impossibly tight with such cuts.

"I always am," Amu answered as she smiled.

Commander Kee punched in the security code of the door, and the steel barriers slid open with an ominous groan. It was completely dark.

"I'm counting on your girls," the Commander added as they stepped through. The doors slid shut behind them.

There was a clanking of bolts in the system as the pair stood in pitch black before the streams of light appeared at their feet.

Amu glanced at the small blonde at her side, who was already looking up at her. The two nodded in mutual agreement, and the pinkette punched in another series of numbers in the electronic keypad at the door.

The small light above the keypad pinged green, and Mashiro reached out to open the steel door.

Outside, there were no birds chirping, no wind to rustle the trees. Steel, grass, and dirt surrounded them. The brown patched of mud under their feet, the green of new life that reminded them of the lost world they once lived in.

Behind a boulder was a hole that was covered by weeds and leaves. It stored bottled water, packaged dried food, weapons—bows and arrows, guns, knives—and maps. Amu took four of the bottles of water and two packs of dried meat and fruit.

"The camp is about eight miles north. Is this your first time going out there?" Mashiro said as she looked at the map. Amu nodded as she inspected a knife. "Walking will take too long, so we'll have to try and find the shortest way and run a lot."

The sun was blazing above their heads; a giant spotlight that could reveal their true identity. Amu ignored the thought as she headed toward an alleyway—

"An alley...?" Amu muttered as she looked around. There was never an alleyway here before, and this was the only road to take to arrive at the nearest survival camp.

It was obviously a trap.

Mashiro reached for the gun that was subtly strapped to her thigh, but Amu put her hand out.

"Hinamori, what're you doing?" she hissed as she swatted Amu's hand away.

"Don't," the taller murmured as she took a step toward the leering darkness, "not yet."

"You're actually going in?" she said in an exaggerated tone. Amu turned to look at her, only to be surprised at the scowl on Mashiro's face: The first emotion she's seen on the girl's face all day.

Amu smirked. "They want us to go through this trap, and there's no other way around it. We might as well see what we're going to be up against." The pinkette gestured Mashiro to follow, and the blonde reluctantly did as the darkness of the alley swallowed them.

Amu's hand itched to reach for the knife tucked in her belt as they walked deeper into the alley. They were alone with no one else, but the eerie sense of them being watched was unmistakable.

The pair reached the end where a brick wall that towered over them blocked their way.

Just as they expected: Amu and Mashiro were trapped.

"Lost?" a teasing voice echoed. Amu turned in the direction of the voice, her eyes falling on a boy with blonde hair that stood in spikes. His clothes were torn apart into rags, and it seemed only his pants were intact. There was no sunlight in the alley, and the Angel's black wings were already spanned out. "Looks like we have a couple of survivors." His laugh was cracked as he chuckled.

Amu narrowed her eyes at him as she glared. "Let us out." She knew he would refuse, and there would be blood spilt.

"Ahahaha, I don't think that's part of the plan," the Angel laughed as his smiled widened. His tone was sickly sweet, and Amu felt the slight need to vomit. "How many of you are left?"

Amu reached for the knife in her belt and the pistol that was strapped to her leg as Mashiro did the same.

"None." The bullet was shot with a head splitting bang, and the Angel that stood before them dematerialized into mist. Amu scowled as she tried to figure out what happened—

"Shit," she cursed as she grabbed Mashiro's arm and ran for the entrance.

"What—?"

"It's an illusion. Angels have some tricks up their sleeves, and this is one of them. If we don't make it out, they'll—!"

At the entrance, a group of Angels awaited them, along with the first one Amu thought she shot. He was completely unscratched.

Amu pushed Mashiro behind her, uncaring for the small girl's protests.

"So," the tallest one drawled, "there are still humans hiding. Very well, we'll hunt you all down." They surrounded the pair. Amy calculated some odds in her head and decided they needed a distraction. Something that could really grab their attention…

"What's going on?" a smooth voice called from the air. Not moments later, a young man about Amu's age appeared before the group. He wore a sleeveless tan leather vest that seemed a size too big and a long-sleeved blood red shirt that hugged his body. His long legs adorned fitted black pants with the hems inside boots that rose to his knees. A cracked silver crown sat crooked on his head, and half was buried in dark blue tresses that fell on the pale skin of his face.

"Well?" he lazily asked, expecting an answer.

Amu narrowed her golden eyes. It couldn't be… she thought.

The tallest one gave a cry of surprise before he deeply bowed, and the other behind mirrored his movements. "Prince," he started as he stared at the pinkette behind his prince. Amu glared at him in returned, and a crooked smirk stretched across his face. "We've found survivors and conclude there are more hiding in the area," he smoothly answered.

"Oh," the prince said, "really." The prince turned around to look at Amu. There was curiousness in his eyes, and Amy nearly stuck a middle finger at him. "Very well, then."

He stepped into the shadows, and Amy couldn't feel his presence anymore.

The leader, the two humans assumed, turned to smirk at them. However, while the prince was occupying their attention, Mashiro had slipped more guns and knives out of the bag, loaded the firearms, and handed a couple to Amu. The pinkette let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Just as the Angels pounced, the two began firing. Amu began blindly shooting in the darkness for the prince, and when the prince flew up to the roof of the building beside them, she knew she nearly hit him. The underlings were fighting off Mashiro, who was landing a barrage of kicks and punches on all who jumped on her.

They made eye contact, and the blonde nodded as she continued. Amu smirked back as she jumped from wall to wall to reach the top of the building to have an encounter with the prince.

Suddenly, one of the Angels flew above her with a deranged look of happiness. She kicked the wall and tossed herself to the other side and quickly twisted her body to jump back at the Angel. Landing a solid kick on his chest with both her feet, the Angel coughed, splattering dark blood on her boots. Back on the ground, the other Angels moved from Mashiro to Amu. And she smirked.

Amu ran toward them as fast as her thin legs could carry her, and she pushed her feet forward, falling on her side and sliding under the Angels, randomly shooting at them above her.

There were gurgles and howls of pain as the ones who were hit darkened from pale to storm grey. They collapsed in a pile of dust and disintegrated to nothing. Sliding toward Mashiro, the blonde grabbed Amu's leg and using the pinkette's momentum pulled her into the air. Airborne, Amu threw knives that landed in the shoulders of the remaining Angels.

Amu twisted herself in the air to land on her feet with a powerful crater under her as she spun to shoot at the Angel who was attempting to grab her. He, too, collapsed to nothing. The rest of the Angels cursed and flew away before the prince came back. Amu and Mashiro stood only a few feet from each other as the prince walked toward them with an air of contempt and pompousness. They both had guns pointed at him with knives in their hands.

"I can't say I'm not impressed," he said as he smirked. "You really are the best," the dark prince said as he disappeared to mist, "Hinamori," he finished in her ear.

Whipping around, the two prepared to stab him, but he was already gone.

The two panted hard, out of breath from the scrimmage with the other Angels.

Mashiro fell on her behind as she breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around Amu and she was whisked into the air. Mashiro cursed as she pulled a loaded gun from her side and tried to shoot, but to no avail. The pinkette and the prince were too high in the air.

Instinctively, Amu gripped the nearest solid object, which happened to be the Prince's arm. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears and feel her stomach clench. She bit her lip, hard, to keep from the screech in her throat at bay.

"I can tell you're scared," he teased as he chuckled. The baritone of his voice vibrated through her chest, and she fought to keep the blush from rising in her cheeks.

A gloved hand brushed across her pale cheek, and she didn't have the nerve to turn her head to bite it. Instead, she gripped his arm tighter, in fear that he might let go.

The wind rushed in her ears, and she knew they were going back down. She steadied herself on the ground, but wobbled and held on even tighter to the fabric of his shirt.

"Until next time," he murmured before grabbing the back of her neck. He pulled her into a rough kiss and disappeared.