Hello, everyone. It's spring break here, so you can all look forward to more frequent updates.

Can I just rant for a minute? (No, don't actually answer that, because I'm going to anyway.) So I've been playing Final Fantasy 12, which is one of those games where if you die you get sent back to the last place you saved – and you have to start over whatever you were doing. So I just beat this CRAZY boss and I was all excited (and very, very close to dead) and I walk into the next room, expecting there to be another save point (because there usually is) and end up walking straight into this explosion trap that kills me. Completely. As in, I have to fight the frickin' Ahrimans again. GRRRR.

Which is why I gave up and started on chapter 19. Good story, right? *sigh*

As always, I don't own these characters. Except Bruixe. 'Cause she's awesome… when she's not moping, that is…


"Is something wrong?" she said
Of course there is
"You're still alive" she said
Oh, and do I deserve to be?
Is that the question?
And if so… if so…
Who answers?
-Pearl Jam, "Alive"


Kairi stepped out into the hallway, closing the door to the bedroom quietly behind her.

"How is she?" Sora asked immediately, standing up.

"I did the best I could with her arm," Kairi answered slowly. "But it went too long without attention – it's gonna scar. And something's wrong with her eyes, they're all yellow, but she won't let me try to fix them."

"That's not what I meant," Sora told her.

"She said she wanted to be alone," Kairi said, looking up at him, and he saw that her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen.

He went to her, wrapping her in his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I kept hoping they'd get away," she whispered brokenly. "But not like this…"

"I know," Sora murmured into her hair. "I know."


Bruixe gazed vacantly at the wall of the bedroom, white like the rest of it, white sheets, white curtains. Outside, even the city was white, snow blanketed over every street and housetop.

When she was a child, living in Garrison's house after her father had died, she'd loved this room, loved the pureness, the crispness of it. Now it just felt empty, void.

She looked down at her hands, one bandaged, the other unmarked, almost as pale as the sheets, because of whatever strange genetic inheritance made her skin fair, impervious to tanning. In this room the only things that weren't white were her hair, her jeans, her vest – his vest. Her eyes.

Thankfully there wasn't a mirror in this room.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, wishing they were his.

Why was it that some died and others didn't? she wondered. Was it fate? Or was it some other power?

He hadn't deserved to die. If anyone, it should have been her. She was the one that had killed people. Had created Chasers. One hundred and eighty-three of them. Enough to destroy a world.

No, it couldn't be fate. 'Fate' implied a certain amount of logic, some reasoning behind who lived and who died. This didn't make sense.

To hell with fate.

How much time had passed, here in this endless sea of white? The sun had risen and set, she knew. Three times? Four? Ten? She wasn't counting.

Someone knocked at the door, Kairi probably, with something she'd try to make Bruixe eat. "I'm not hungry," she called softly.

The door opened, and it wasn't Kairi, but Councilor Garrison. "May I come in?" he asked.

"…Sure," Bruixe said indifferently.

Garrison sat in the chair next to her bed and showed her what was in his hands – her old kodachis, simple black hilts worn in the shape of her hands, blades still sharp as ever.

"Terra gave you these, didn't he?" Garrison said. "After you came here. And he's the one that taught you to fight, as well."

Bruixe looked away. She didn't want to think about Terra, not now. It hurt too much.

"I imagine it must be hard for you," the Councilor told her. "I was not there for you as I should have been. I was charged with your care… but I didn't know, then, what that should have meant. But Terra, he gave you what I could not."

Bruixe was silent.

"And then you found a life of your own, outside," Garrison continued. "I cannot tell you how proud I was to see you again, before the Council. You were not the little Rubie I had known… you were a grown woman, content in where she was in life and at peace with herself. And do not think I don't know how much of that was due to your new friends. Especially Riku."

Bruixe's chest constricted again, and she gritted her teeth. She would not cry, not again. She had no tears left.

"I know this will be hard for you," Garrison said softly. "But I am afraid I must ask you for help, one last time. This conflict is far from over, Bruixe. We still need your help. The Watch and I have managed to isolate Councilors Velkin and Nester. But Isalena's force of Chasers is still out there. And you of all people should know that the Watch cannot fight them alone. We need you, Bruixe."

He held out her knives by the sheaths, and she took them, feeling their old familiar weight. 'Impetus' and 'Ratio', Terra had called them. Passion and reason. You will need both to defend yourself. Don't lose sight of them.

Bruixe thought about Garrison's plea. So he wanted her to kill Chasers, did he?

Somewhere beneath her ribs, a new fire blossomed, not the fierce blaze of grief and pain, but something more subtle, a slow smolder, quieter but just as strong.

She recognized it, though it had been a long, long time since she'd felt it.

"What do you say?" Garrison asked.

Bruixe looked at him, eyes hard. "Show me where they are."


"You're worried about her," Sora said.

Kairi shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun off the pristine snow. "Don't tell me you aren't," she replied. "I've never seen her like this."

"Me neither," Sora agreed.

Together they looked up, where Bruixe stood alone atop the outer wall of Kingdom City, overlooking the forest. Garrison had given her a heavy black cloak to guard against the harsh wind, and it billowed around her, along with her long dark hair, which she'd tied back in a tail. From this distance, Sora thought she looked like no more than a shadow, writhing in the wind, insubstantial.

"It scares me a little, to see her like that," Kairi admitted.

Sora nodded grimly. "Can you blame her, though?"

Behind them, the unmistakable sound of chocobo feet came crunching over the snow. They turned to see Hanna and Ren riding toward them.

"What's Bruixe doing up there?" Hanna wanted to know.

Sora shrugged. "Just watching, probably," he told the sisters. "And thinking. She does a lot of that, these days."

"Well, she's made an impression on some of the Watch," Hanna said. "Have you heard? They're talking about her like she's some sort of goddess. Terrible and proud, they're calling her. Bruixe the Merciless. Did you see how she took out those Chasers yesterday? Twelve of them, and she killed them singlehandedly, didn't even flinch."

Ren's green eyes were sad. "That's not like her," she murmured. "Bruixe is kind, and funny."

"Not anymore," Sora said grimly.

"Don't say that," Kairi begged. "Please… don't judge her. I can't even imagine… if something were to happen to you, I… I couldn't bear it. Think of how she must be feeling."

Sora shifted uncomfortably. "She's not the only one upset," he muttered.

"We're all suffering," Kairi said.

"So why are you two here?" Sora asked, changing the subject, albeit badly.

"I've got information for Bruixe," Hanna said. "Chaser sightings."

"Where?" Sora asked.

Hanna shook her head. "Garrison said, 'Tell Bruixe. No one else.' Don't ask me why. I just follow orders."

Sora scowled, but said, "Fine. Well, you know where she is."


"Bruixe?" said a tiny voice.

Bruixe turned, fixed her gaze on Ren, and the younger girl shivered a little. Bruixe knew why. She'd abandoned the blindfold, so the whole world could see it, what had happened to her. It satisfied her, even just a little, to know that it frightened people. That was the mantle she had taken up, after all.

She'd heard them talking about her. Bruixe the Merciless. The title was fine with her. It didn't bother her how similar the name was to her father's. Once she would have been angry, but now there was only one thing that could hold her anger.

"Garrison sent us," Ren said timidly.

"Someone saw Chasers outside the Water Gate," Hanna reported. "Near the lake. And supposedly Isalena's with them."

Isalena.

The smoldering beneath her ribs flared.

"How long ago?" Bruixe demanded.

"Just this morning," Hanna replied. "No one else knows, so… be careful. You're on your own."

Bruixe's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well…" Hanna admitted. "I was supposed to tell Sora, too. Garrison didn't think it was safe for just one. But I knew you'd want to do it alone."

Bruixe met the older girl's eyes steadily, about to thank her, but Hanna just nodded in understanding. She turned to go.

"Wait," Ren pleaded. "Bruixe, don't. Don't go…"

Bruixe hesitated, almost turned around, but nothing could break her resolve, not now. "Sorry, Ren," she muttered, and took off along the wall, racing towards the Water Gate.

Isalena, she thought with hatred. It won't be long now.


She found the Chasers easily, her heart, damn the thing, attracting them like a beacon. Isalena must have found some way to control them, though, because they didn't attack her immediately. Could that have been where Fallen Angel had disappeared to?

Great, she thought. One more enemy Keyblade to worry about.

There were eight of them, all together, but Isalena was nowhere in sight. Irritation flickered across her face. So Hanna had been wrong.

The Chasers circled her, twitching, and she stood easily in the center, kodachis held loosely by her sides, the numbers racing through her brain.

One hundred and eighty-three – Chasers she'd created. Minus four, minus seven, minus three, minues twenty-one – Chasers that Sora and Hanna and Ren and the Watch had destroyed.

One hundred and forty-eight.

Forty-two – Chasers she'd taken out herself.

One hundred and six.

Minus eight, she thought, tallying those around her now.

Ninety-eight.

Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, went a song in her head.

Ninety-eight Chasers of death left to kill… ninety-eight Chasers of death… take one down, drag it around, ninety-seven Chasers of death left to kill…

It wouldn't be long now.

Knives glinting in the sun, she sprang at the nearest Chaser.


review please. thanks.