A/N: Again I want to thank Jedi Misty and LoveintheBattlefield for their wonderful support! I also want to thank thundercrash for reviewing and for helping point out a little mistake I was making in dialog syntax. I think I've got it figured out now so thanks for pointing it out!

Hope you guys like this chapter. It's a quick one and I sort of rushed the proofreading to get it out to you before I fell asleep at the keyboard over here. It's 4AM. Should have been sleeping hours ago. :)

The next chapter will have more Usagi and Mamoru goodness! Anyway here goes! Please review and let me know what you think. Night everyone!

Chapter 7: Rising from the Ashes - The Mystery of the Flames

Li Wei sighed, hearing footsteps echo behind him. He knew their owner without even looking around. It was the kid. Jian Je followed him everywhere, observing everything with those serious eyes, too serious for such a young face. The boy should be out playing ball or chasing after girls, not hanging around like a wraith with a group that even Li knew reeked of death and violence. He stepped inside of the abandoned apartment complex currently home to the Red Sash. Peeling paint made little shadows dance along the wall as light bulbs overhead flickered. Li stopped outside the door to their apartment where his father, leader of the Red Sash waited. "Wait here," he said to Jian, leaving the boy standing by the door. Inside his father was reclining in bed having been battling with the ill health which comes with age. Li knew soon the burden of keeping the family together would fall to his shoulders but he wouldn't accept that until the day came. "Hi father," he said, sitting down next to the bed. His father looked the picture of the old world in Chinese silk pajamas and a pointed gray beard and wisdom wrinkles at his eyes. At least that was what he called them when anyone dared to call him old.

"Li," his father said, "Is everyone ready?"

Li sighed. "Yes Father. We have lookouts posted at every incoming street. "And our men are on every rooftop." Trouble was on the horizon. For a while now a new nemesis had been making moves, attempting to unite gangs in the various districts into one. Three had already joined forces and with those kinds of numbers behind them, any single group who refused to join didn't stand a chance. The options were few: join or be obliterated.

Just the other day messengers had come with the dreaded offer. Li still felt the outrage burning in his heart. The Red Sash were a proud people, able to trace the family's lineage back to the old country. Though they were small, and Chinatown a small district, they were proud and would not bow their heads to outsiders. And that meant they were now preparing for a fight they did not know if they could win.

"What of Jian? I hear you've been keeping this from him. Why? He has been a quick learner. Could we not use an extra hand?"

It was true; Li had been keeping this a secret. Lowering his voice he slipped into speaking Mandarin. "Father, There is something about him. I feel he doesn't belong here in these filthy alleys, that boy is meant for something more than this. I can't explain but I just know it. His hands shouldn't be soaked with blood like mine."

"Then why do you teach him to fight?" his father asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he questioned his surprisingly protective son.

Li stiffened defensively. "I teach him because he has to grow up in this ugly world. I teach him because it will make him strong to protect himself and those he will care about someday."

"Or maybe you see a little of yourself in him Li." His father said with a chuckle and a knowing look. "Do you have any regrets Li, about the life we have led?" "Do you wish it had been different?" He reached out for his son's hand.

"No father," he said gripping the old man's hand in his. "This is and will always be my family, my way of life. I have no regrets." A man's piercing whistle echoed across the street through the open window. It was the warning signal. Vehicles were approaching from the East. The storm was coming. "I must go." he said tersely, releasing his father's hand. He rose and went to a cabinet where yesterday he had locked up a package wrapped in cloth and tied with string. Li carried it out to where Jian stood, still waiting faithfully by the door.

"Jian," he said handing the package to him, "I need you to deliver this, for my father. The address is here." He pointed out the hastily scrawled address. "It is important and of considerable value but I'm trusting you with it. Please be careful and make sure it reaches the person it's meant for. Will you do this for me Jian Je?"

Li's expression had suddenly grown so serious that Jian took the package, holding it delicately as if it were something precious. He hadn't called him "kid" as Li often did and Jian felt a glowing sense of pride that Li was entrusting him with something important. "Of course Li. I will go right now." Jian responded glancing again at Li, wondering what had brought the sudden seriousness and sense of urgency to his eyes. He spun on his heels and began to run, the package tucked firmly in his arm. He knew in general where the location was. It was almost clear across town, but he had never been asked to go there before and so the package naturally piqued his curiosity.

But his curiosity was piqued even more when Jian finally arrived at the destination, a burned out shell of a building. He checked the address again, running a hand through his hair in confusion. Surely there must be an error somewhere. He looked more closely at the inscription for a name but only found a hastily scribbled "J". His mystified thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the road of a sputtering engine down the road. Few people had cars, especially ones that still ran. Only the rich and influential could afford one, but Jian's blood ran cold as it dawned on him that there was another group who could be driving that vehicle, not because they bought it, but because they stole it with force. And as the vehicle rounded the corner, Jian could see the rival gang's armbands clearly as the truck rolled past him, carrying at least ten men armed to the teeth. They were heading right for Red Sash territory, and were likely not alone. His eyes widened and he took off at a heart pounding run still gripping the package tightly. He took back alleys to avoid being seen, straining for every ounce of speed he could muster, but the truck was still faster than running feet and soon left him in its dust. It was at least a half hour before he made it to the dilapidated apartment that he called home, and what his eyes beheld made him want to scream. Blood was everywhere, the streets empty and silent but for the bodies lying motionless in their own drying pools, weapons abandoned in lifeless hands. It had been a massacre without any hope of survival. Jian could hardly breathe as he ran into the apartment lobby seeking Li and his father.

Li was beyond tears, beyond emotion. He sat sprawled against the wall outside their apartment, blood soaking his shirt. His vision blurred and he had long since lost the energy to move, but he forced himself to remain awake, waiting for the one he knew would come. Hurried footsteps rounded the corner and the boy stood before him, wide eyed in shock, a pained expression on his face that reminded him of the day he had met Jian, the day Jian's father had been killed. "Jian," he said his voice a whisper.

Jian Je knelt quickly by his side, a panicked expression on his face. "Hold on Li. I'll get help!" He went to run but Li grabbed his arm with surprising strength.

"No Jian," he said gripping his arm to keep him from leaving, knowing he had little time left. "Jian, you must promise…nut to avenge us." He said between ragged breaths. "This is our way, to live…and to die on the streets. Our time is past…I accept it now…but yours is not."

Realization dawned on the teenager's face. "You sent me on that errand on purpose! I could have been here. I could have helped you! Li, why? Why did you send me away? After all this time, do you think I'm not good enough to fight alongside you?" Hurt blossomed in his eyes.

Li could hear the hurt in his voice. "No Jian. It is the opposite. It is I who am…unworthy…your hands should not be soaked…in blood like mine. The package…" he gestured toward it, "it was for you. Open it." He was beginning to feel numb, a warm feeling crept over him and sleep threatened to steal him away, making his eyelids weigh a thousand pounds. He let his eyes close, just for a moment.

"No! Li! Stay with me!" He shook Li's shoulder.

"It's OK Jian," he responded sleepily, his voice slurred. "I go to join my father. Maybe we will finally find…peace." His voice trailed off as his hand fell limply from Jian's own.

Tears threatened to burst from the young man's eyes. He had sworn he would never cry again after the death of his father, but it took all of his willpower to push them back, though his heart felt torn. The package lay before him and with shaking hands he undid the cords. There, wrapped in silk was an ornate silver dagger, the hilt emblazoned with Li's family crest. A note was folded neatly atop it. He sat there, in the hallway littered with the ghosts of lost friends and read.

Jian Je Zheng,

Since you cane to us, lost and grieving, I have watched you grow, and have seen you turning into a strong, great man. I feel it in my heart that you are meant for something more, something important. And everything I have taught you has been for that purpose. You must rise above this life in the streets. Someday, Jian, you will find what you are meant to do, and people who you will want to protect. Take this. It was given to me by my father when I turned 13. I consider you the brother I never had. Remember us and be proud of where you come from, but do not burden your heart with revenge. We have all made our own choices, and I have no regrets. Good bye Jian. May the stars illuminate your path.

-LI

He wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours lost in his thoughts and with nowhere to go. The world seemed still, as if it was holding its breath, until a voice rang out startling him from his thoughts.

"Fortunes and readings! Just five dollars! Come and see what is in the stars for you! Special discount for couples, only seven dollars!" A woman's voice rang out over a crowd on the main road. Curious and eager for a distraction, he meandered closer, still keeping to the outer edges of the crowd. He could see an older woman in her fifties, wearing many bangle bracelets and too-flashy beads over a multi-colored skirt and blouse. Frizzy black hair hung limply from a rainbow colored headband. But the real attraction sat beneath an umbrella. A girl with straight raven hair to her waist in a simple skirt and white blouse, sat cross-legged on a chair. A single burning candle sat before her on a table decorated with a garish tablecloth tapestry.

The whole scene was a bit garish and gaudy. The older woman tried too hard to sell, beady eyes ager for the money in their pockets. But the girl, the girl was beautiful. He watched quietly as one after another, people lined up to have their fortune read. He could see her ebony eyes seem to lose focus into the candle flame for a moment or two, strands of hair sometimes blowing in a breeze as the flame blazed or sputtered. She would say something, and the woman who he could only assume was her mother eagerly took their dollars.

No one noticed him as the crowd slowly thinned and went on their way. One last man sauntered up, his shirt smudged with dirt and sweat. Jian could tell by the rapidly darting eye movements the man was shifty and those eyes seemed to have a hunger in them. He instantly stiffened, instincts on alert. The man sat down for his reading and Jian inched closer until he could hear them.

The raven haired girl was spacing out into the flame again when all of a sudden her customer blurted out, "Hey girl, you sure are pretty. Maybe I should get my money's worth." The man reached out with grubby fingers to touch her chest. Without even thinking, Jian was suddenly there, knocking into the man's hand and using a knife to pin his sleeve to the table.

"You will not touch her.", he said, his voice low but threatening as he locked eyes with him. That hunger turned to fear in the man's eyes and he quickly withdrew his arm, tearing the cloth of his sleeve. "No problem man. I wasn't gonna do anything!" At another fierce look from Jian he threw money on the table and took off running. Suddenly something slammed into his arm with a thud and he turned to see the girl who had swung her purse at him with ferocity.

"Hey weirdo! I can fight my own battles you know!" she yelled and Jian could only stare into her angry eyes. In the light of the candle it looked like flecks of fire were dancing in her eyes. There was such a passionate beauty in those eyes, a fire that seemed to suck his very soul into it and burn him from the inside out.

It had already been a long day of telling fortunes to total strangers who came in waves one after another. Each one thought his or her problems and questions were unique but almost all wanted to know the same things. Would they find love? Was their mate cheating? Would they grow rich someday? Rhiannon thought sometimes it would bore her to tears but for the interesting ones. Ever since she was a young girl sometimes Rhiannon could see things in flames. Her mother, Llewellyn Moonbeam made a living as a charlatan psychic, claiming mystical powers and the ability to see into the future. But all she could see was the money. That was, until the day she realized her daughter truly had a gift. At first she had been jealous, but in time she had realized what a benefit her little Rhiannon could be to her, and so her days as a fortune teller had begun.

The flame didn't always speak to her. It wasn't a perfect art but she had learned some generic things she could say to make a customer leave feeling happy when the fire was mute. Sometimes she saw things Rhiannon didn't want to see and it made her heart ache with compassion, but her mother kept a tight rein on her, making sure she didn't say anything to frighten a customer so she had to couch her revelations in cryptic phrases.

Already exhausted from so many hours, she saw the bedraggled man approaching and the hair on her arms stood up. The man smelled of sweat and his eyes seemed to take her in from the neck down. Rhiannon's eyes had flared in anger, and she had vowed to make it a fast one when suddenly everything happened too quickly. His hand had reached out to her and before she could react by slapping him, a knife had suddenly been stabbed into her table, holding the man's wrist down.

She looked up unto the face of a young man of Asian descent whose eyes seemed to hold a lifetime of experiences. Anger flared in her at first. How dare he act like a chauvinist who had to save her from this brute? She could very well defend herself. The nerve of this man was unbelievable and she let him have it with the side of her purse, swinging it with gusto.

But as her eyes took him in, the sincerely, almost boyish look, and his strong yet lithe form her anger subsided, only a little, to curiosity. Suddenly the candle flame flared, growing almost three times in size, something she had never seen it do before. "Wait," she said, grabbing his hand to keep him there while her eyes found the flame. Visions flashed through her eyes so quickly she couldn't really follow them, only catching bits here and there as her mind struggled to cope with the sudden flashes. But she was certain she saw him in some sort of uniform with her in the flame. Her heart started racing and in alarm she released his hand and drew back. The candle suddenly snuffed out leaving both of them staring warily at each other.

At first he had been ready with a comeback. This feisty woman couldn't even be grateful that he had interceded and was actually mad at him? His own anger flared but was quickly snuffed out when the mysterious girl grabbed his hand. A sudden shock shot up his arm like a spark and he let out a surprised gasp at the strength of her grip, not that he was eager to detach himself. He remained fascinated as the candle flame leapt and danced, feeling drawn in until suddenly the spell was broken and the flame snuffed itself out. He stared at her, unsure what to think and she returned the stare, her own uncertainty showing.

"Hey, if you're looking for a fortune you have to pay!" the mother suddenly interceded, her eyes revealing that she thought him a street urchin and ragamuffin. Pride flared in him and he calmly withdrew his knife and stepped back, turning on his heels to walk away slowly and casually. But he couldn't resist taking one more look behind him, and was somehow pleased to see raven eyes meet his.