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Bleach: Dark Heart Dawning - Chapter 3

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 14:15:29 GMT

Title: Dark Heart Dawning
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: T/PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Urahara/OC; Renji/Rukia; Ichigo/Orihime; Yoruichi/Soifon; Tessai, Jinta, Ururu, Ririn, Kurodou, Noba, Kon, Kyouraku, Ukitake, Mayuri, Nemu, Yamamoto, Unohana, Isane, Chad, Uryuu... and a handful of other OCs.
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for the Hueco Mundo arc onward of the manga & anime.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations; semi-graphic violence
Summary: With Aizen on the mend following the Winter War, all seemed peaceful in Karakura Town... Until a new type of enemy arrived and reared its ugly head. It all started with the arrival of a woman...
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Bleach or its characters. They are the intellectual property of one Tite Kubo. Any non-canon characters you come across belong to me, however, and are not to be used in anyone else's stories without my permission.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2

Chapter Three

Uryuu Ishida frowned distastefully as he held up the ruined garment, slightly disgusted with the amount of dirt and blood that were ground into the fabric. He had barely been awake five minutes when he received a summons to come to the Urahara Shop before school. Naturally, he had gone, thinking that perhaps that oddball genius of a shopkeeper had detected some sort of movement from Aizen... but he'd thought wrong. The real reason he'd been asked to come to the shop that morning was so that the proprietor could ask him for the use of his sewing skills.

“Can you fix it?” came the inappropriately serious voice of the man in the striped hat.

“It's completely shredded across the midsection,” Uryuu told him.

“But can you fix it?” Urahara repeated.

Uryuu sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath to compose himself. This was what he had been reduced to since the end of the Winter War? An on-call seamstress?

“No, not even someone with my skill could fix this garment,” he informed the annoying man. “It's completely ruined. Better to just throw it away.”

“Then I suppose our guest will just have to join Yoruichi-san in walking about naked!” Urahara remarked cheerfully, earning a smack up the back of the head from the dark-skinned woman sitting next to him that was nearly hard enough to knock off his hat.

“Guest?” Uryuu inquired, more out of curiosity than surprise. He had felt the unusual form of reiatsu when he first set foot within the shop, but refrained from making any comments about it lest it be the result of one of Urahara's many experiments, knowing that the proud inventor would end up talking his ear off if he thought someone might be the least bit interested in what he was currently working on.

“A young woman was attacked by a hollow last night,” Yoruichi explained. “Ichigo brought her here so we could tend to her injuries. That dress belongs to her.”

Uryuu held the ruined lavender sundress up once more and examined the jagged tears running from the side seam nearly to the other side of the garment across the front, along with the large bloodstain that permeated practically the entire central portion of the dress' back.

“It's a wonder she survived the attack at all,” he commented, imagining from the state of her clothing that she must have been nearly disemboweled by the hollow that attacked her.

“The dress makes her injuries seem worse than they really were,” Urahara remarked, as if reading his mind. “She had three somewhat deep gashes in her left side, but they weren't anything Tessai couldn't handle.”

“Then why did you bother having Renji go after Orihime?” Yoruichi asked.

“Now, now, Yoruichi-san... You and I both know Tessai's strengths lie in hadou and bakudou, not healing kidou. We couldn't very well risk the girl's life.”

“That's a real nice thing to say about one of your best friends, Kisuke ,” she admonished him. “Have you forgotten he used to be the captain of the Kidou Corps?”

Uryuu cleared his throat to remind them of his presence before they became too engaged in their squabble, laying out the ruined dress on top of the low table before him.

“I can make her a new dress, but it will require some materials,” he told them. “I am also going to need her measurements.”

“I'll go get them for you,” Urahara offered, hopping to his feet. Yoruichi grabbed the edge of his dark green overcoat and tugged it sharply, pulling him back down to the floor and earning a surprised yelp from him.

“I think Uryuu is quite capable of taking her measurements on his own,” she said through clenched teeth, thoroughly tired of him acting like a horny teenager desperate for some way to cop a feel of a pretty girl. She rose to her feet, casting a glance toward the boy seated across from them, and Uryuu stood, as well.

“You stay here,” she ordered Kisuke, pointing a stern finger in his face, then left the room and escorted Uryuu to the room where the girl was being kept.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Uryuu,” Ururu greeted him from her post next to the unconscious woman, bowing slightly. She had taken over the duty of watching over her when Orihime had grown too tired to keep her eyes open any longer, and her own, normally wide blue eyes were now heavy-lidded from her lack of sleep the previous night.

“Good morning, Ururu,” he replied with a kind smile, then froze just inside the doorway of the room when his eyes fell upon the figure lying in the middle of the floor, a small sound of surprise escaping his throat. He turned to look at Yoruichi, silently asking her a question with his eyes, and she simply nodded in reply.

“Ururu, you look tired,” she said as she went over to where the child was sitting and crouched down beside her, reaching up to gently stroke her hair. “Why don't you go get some sleep, and I'll take over watching the lady?”

“O-Okay,” she stammered quietly before pulling herself to her feet. She wavered slightly, rubbing at one of her tired eyes with her hand, then bowed deeply in gratitude to the woman taking over her duty for her and made her way toward the door. Before leaving the room, she paused and turned back, her young face looking a bit uncertain.

“Are you sure it's alright?” she asked meekly. “Mr. Kisuke told me I was supposed to stay here and guard her.”

“It's fine, Ururu,” Yoruichi assured her with a nod. “If Kisuke has a problem with me relieving you of your watch, he can take it up with me.”

Ururu nodded, smiling a bit as she muttered her thanks, then left the room and headed for the small bedroom she occupied at the other end of the hall.

“Close the door,” Yoruichi instructed Uryuu as she sat down on the floor, tucking her legs to the side. Uryuu complied to her wishes, carefully sliding the bedroom door shut before taking a seat on the other side of the unconscious woman.

“So you noticed it too, huh?” she asked once they were both sitting down, nodding her head toward the figure between them.

“Yeah...” he replied softly, his blue eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the appearance of the woman who had survived the hollow attack the night before. “There's something strange about her reiatsu. It doesn't feel like any I've ever encountered before.”

“Kisuke and I noticed the same thing. The difference is subtle, but it's definitely there.”

“Do either of you have any ideas about what it means?” he inquired, lifting one of the girl's pale hands, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit as he bent over to better examine it.

“Not a clue,” Yoruichi told him with a heavy sigh. “We have our theories, though.”

“Theories?” he wondered, looking up at her and pushing his glasses back into place.

“Kisuke thinks she isn't any threat to us,” she stated, her voice holding an edge of displeasure, “but she may be connected to Aizen, somehow.”

“Do you have any proof of that?” he asked her.

“Well... No... We don't have any actual proof that she's connected to him,” she admitted. “But it seems very likely, once you think about it.”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Miss Yoruichi,” he chided her. “Besides, I don't think Aizen would be ready to make a move yet, so soon after taking all the damage he did in the last battle.”

“You sound like Kisuke,” she grumbled.

“She seems human,” Uryuu mused aloud, returning to his careful scrutiny of the girl's appendages. “But...”

“But what?” Yoruichi asked when he allowed his voice to quietly trail off. Uryuu laid the girl's arm back down at her side and sat back on his heels with his legs tucked under him.

“Humans' spirit ribbons are white,” he told her, his eyebrows coming together as he frowned in confusion, “but hers is black. I've never even seen a black one, before.”

Yoruichi had guessed he might say something like that. It perfectly matched the feeling she and Kisuke had experienced the night before – dark, somewhat foreboding, and definitely not like the reiatsu of any human or shinigami they had ever come across in all their years.

“Let's just get her measurements, shall we?” she suggested after a moment of tense silence, flashing a smile to help brighten the atmosphere between them.

Uryuu was happy to oblige, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the unconscious woman before him as soon as possible. He dug around in his school bag for a tape measure and took the necessary measurements as Yoruichi helped him position the girl's body in order to wrap the tool around her. Once he had all the information he needed, he quickly jotted it down into a small notebook and rose to his feet, assuring her he would have a new dress ready for them in the morning before hastily leaving the room and putting the entire shop behind him.

On his way to school, one thought kept popping up in the forefront of his mind: If Urahara really did intend to let that girl stick around once she was better, then he must be even more insane than Uryuu had originally thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Renji grumbled as he shifted his position on the floor, raising his head slightly to check that the girl was still out cold before laying back down and closing his eyes once more. He didn't understand why he had to be stuck with the afternoon shift of watching over her. She was unconscious. She wasn't going anywhere. Besides, Urahara had volunteered to do it. So why did he have to be the one made to suffer by being cooped up in a room without so much as a radio, much less a television, keeping watch over some sleeping chick?

“I don't trust Kisuke alone with her,” Yoruichi had told him when he whined to her that he didn't think he should have to be the one to take the job. “Besides, there's something I want you to do for me.”

He had to admit, it had been kinda cool, going behind Urahara's back like some sort of spy on a secret mission. Yoruichi had given him explicit instructions on what he was to do, then threatened him with “a horrible death the likes of which you cannot even begin to imagine,” should he let the details of his little task slip to anyone other than herself.

The 'mission' had been simple enough: Take a picture of the girl and send it to Soul Society to see if the Department of Research and Development could come up with anything on her. Yoruichi had told him she really didn't expect them to have anything on file, but she still wanted it done, just in case they already knew something about her. Renji had asked why she was so desperate to find out everything she could about the girl, but all that she would tell him was that she believed the girl should be considered a possible threat.

“Yeah, right,” Renji mumbled to himself, stretching out a bit more across the floor. How the hell did an unconscious woman pose a threat to them? What was she going to do, take up too much space?

He felt the sensation almost as soon as the thoughts entered his mind, and his eyes flew open. Sitting up, he regarded the figure lying before him with a sense of confusion mixed with a bit of fear. She certainly didn't look the least bit imposing, but that sudden wave of reiatsu that had pulsed from within her had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. His own captain's reiatsu could often times inspire dread in those who didn't know how to deal with the vast amount of power, but this was somehow different. It felt like he was drowning in darkness, and he broke out in a cold sweat as he suddenly realized he couldn't breathe.

Almost as abruptly as the sensation had hit him, it was gone again, and the room felt still and calm once more. Renji swallowed nervously and reached up with a shaking hand, wiping away some sweat that had began to run down his cheek, his breath coming in slightly shallow gasps. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall and pulled his legs in to his chest, wanting to keep as much distance between himself and the girl as the confines of the small bedroom would allow.

In the last minute and a half, it had become very clear to him why Yoruichi thought the girl might be dangerous.

Bleach: Dark Heart Dawning - Chapter 2

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 06:45:29 GMT

Title: Dark Heart Dawning
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: T/PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Urahara/OC; Renji/Rukia; Ichigo/Orihime; Yoruichi/Soifon; Tessai, Jinta, Ururu, Ririn, Kurodou, Noba, Kon, Kyouraku, Ukitake, Mayuri, Nemu, Yamamoto, Unohana, Isane, Chad, Uryuu... and a handful of other OCs.
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for the Hueco Mundo arc onward of the manga & anime.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations; semi-graphic violence
Summary: With Aizen on the mend following the Winter War, all seemed peaceful in Karakura Town... Until a new type of enemy arrived and reared its ugly head. It all started with the arrival of a woman...
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Bleach or its characters. They are the intellectual property of one Tite Kubo. Any non-canon characters you come across belong to me, however, and are not to be used in anyone else's stories without my permission.

Previous Chapters: 1

Chapter Two

Yoruichi Shihouin grumbled to herself as she slipped into her black leggings, the stretchy cotton fabric feeling like an uncomfortable, constricting second skin. Kisuke had insisted she get dressed before tending to the injured girl, who was now laid out on a futon in the center of the spare bedroom they had decided to put her in – which, to Yoruichi's utter dislike, happened to be directly across the hall from Kisuke's own bedroom. He had disappeared almost immediately after giving her the order to dress, headed in the direction of the storage closet at the end of the hallway, and she could hear various bottles clinking together as he worked on mixing up some sort of concoction to give to the girl.

“I don't know why you're so insistent on me wearing clothes, Kisuke,” she protested as she tugged her matching black top on over her head. Deciding she was adequately clothed, she knelt down next to the prone figure and pulled the elastic band from the girl's hair, which had probably been holding it all back in a neat ponytail at one point, but had ended up being half tangled in the mass of her brown hair between her attack by the hollow and being carried around by Ichigo.

“If you think she'd be traumatized by waking up to find a strange man stripping her,” Kisuke replied as he entered the room, carrying a beaker half-full of a pinkish liquid in one hand, “then just imagine how affected she'd be if she awoke to the sight of a strange, naked woman undressing her.”

Yoruichi frowned slightly, knowing he had a point. While he and Tessai were comfortable with her exhibitionism, it wasn't something people generally just regarded as being a normal occurrence. She nodded toward the beaker in his hand as he knelt across from her, lifting the girl's head slightly with his free hand before carefully pouring the sickeningly sweet-smelling elixir down her throat.

“What are you giving her?”

“It's just a simple restorative draught,” Kisuke explained, administering the last of the potion with a practiced ease. “It will aid her body in increasing the production of new blood cells to replace those she lost due to her injuries.”

“How long do you think she'll be out?” Yoruichi asked, her eyes falling to the girl's face. She wasn't shivering quite as much now that she was under the thick comforter, but her bottom lip was still quivering and her skin was nearly as white as the bedding that surrounded her.

“I'd say a day, maybe two,” he estimated, setting the empty glass container down on the floor next to him.

The two of them remained silent for a long moment, their eyes fixed on the girl's face as they both silently prayed that she would have the strength to pull through. Not only was she young, with her whole life ahead of her, but they both knew very well that if she didn't survive, Ichigo would take her death the hardest. He had a nasty habit of blaming himself whenever anyone he'd had contact with died, even if he hadn't even been present at their downfall – such as when several of the lesser shinigami forces had been wiped out by one of Aizen's attacks.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a chill ran through their entire bodies. They looked up at one another, eyes slightly wide in surprise.

“Hey, Sandal-Hat,” Ichigo called from outside the doorway. “Is Yoruichi decent?”

“What is it, Ichigo?” Kisuke addressed him, turning on his heel before rising to a standing position. Ichigo stepped into the doorway, scratching the back of his head, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the purple-haired woman who was still seated on the floor.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Alright,” he replied, folding his arms so that his hands disappeared in the sleeves of his top.

“In private,” Ichigo added, his eyes flickering briefly toward Yoruichi. The older man looked back over his shoulder at his companion, wondering what it was that the boy didn't feel comfortable talking about in her presence.

“You heard the kid, Kisuke,” she said. “Besides, you need to get out of here so I can get this girl out of her wet clothes. Or did you think I was going to let you stick around and watch?”

“Very well, Yoruichi-san,” he replied, stepping out into the hall with Ichigo and closing the door to the bedroom behind him. He gestured across the hallway to his own room, which was about as private as they were going to get with a house full of people, and the two of them proceeded through the doorway into the sparsely furnished bedroom of the eccentric shopkeeper.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” he asked as he took a seat on a large, round cushion in the corner of the room. Ichigo sat across from him, cross-legged on the floor, once again scratching the back of his head.

“I really don't know how to explain this,” he began, sounding thoughtful. “When Rukia and I went after that hollow, there were these... things with it.”

“Things?” Urahara asked, wanting further clarification on just what he had seen.

“They didn't exactly look like hollows,” Ichigo told him. “At least, not any sort of hollow I've ever seen.”

“Well, what did they look like?” Urahara prompted.

“They were... black. Completely black, no white hollow mask or anything, which is why I don't think they were hollows. They had these really thin bodies, almost like they were nothing more than skin and bones, and long arms with what looked almost like human hands... if the hands had been decomposing for a while, at any rate. And they had these sort of elongated heads with these snouts full of really nasty looking, sharp teeth – which were also black. The only thing that wasn't black were their eyes. Their eyes were red.”

“Interesting,” Urahara mused, stroking his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “Anything else you observed about them?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo nodding slightly. “When I killed one of them... it didn't disintegrate like the hollows usually do.”

“What happened?”

“Well, at first it just fell onto the ground like a dead body,” Ichigo recalled, looking at a nearby spot on the floor as if the body was lying next to him at that very moment. “Then it sort of dissolved into this strange black ooze, and then the ooze seeped down into the ground and disappeared.”

Urahara remained completely silent and still, mentally running down a list of various spiritual entities and attempting to recall one that fit the descriptions that Ichigo had given him.

“What the hell were those things, Urahara?” Ichigo asked, his voice a whisper of quiet fear. Urahara knew that no matter what they were, the boy had already proven his ability to handle them. But not knowing what an enemy is and what they are fully capable of was always a daunting thing.

“I have no idea what they are, Ichigo,” he replied, his own voice quiet as he remained slightly lost in thought, wondering if perhaps the Department of Research and Development at the Soul Society might have some data that would be helpful in identifying the strange creatures. “But we'll find out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain had finally stopped. The only remainder of the storm that had earlier been beating down on Karakura Town was the crisp scent that always seemed to permeate the air after a rain shower.

Once again, Kisuke Urahara found himself standing outside his shop, leaning back against the outer wall, next to the door. His hat was pulled low over his face, his head bent down, his left arm crossed over his chest as his right hand rested just under his chin in a lightly-closed fist. He was lost in thought, again, contemplating those strange creatures Ichigo had described to him. They didn't sound like any type of hollow or arrancar he had ever heard of. Just the same, he couldn't help but wonder if these things – whatever they were – might be under Aizen's control. Surely, if they had been attacking alongside the hollow, they had to have some sort of connection to him. It suddenly occurred to him that if Aizen really was responsible for the appearance of the strange creatures, they may very well be something new that he had designed and created himself. Therefore, there would be absolutely no way they could ever hope to fully prepare themselves for whatever they might be capable of doing.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Yoruichi said as she stepped outside, silently sliding the front door of the shop closed behind her.

“How is she?” he asked, referring to the injured girl he had given her the task of watching over.

“Still unconscious,” Yoruichi reported with a sigh as she leaned against the wall, next to him, stretching her legs out in front of her. “She stopped shivering rather quickly once I got her out of those wet clothes. They were pretty torn up from the attack she endured.”

“We'll have Ishida fix them for her,” he stated automatically. Uryuu Ishida, Ichigo's Quincy friend, was the one everyone seemed to go to whenever they needed any sort of sewing skills. Urahara himself had gone to the boy and asked him to design the costumes for the Karakura-Raizer team, even.

“Orihime is watching over her right now,” Yoruichi informed him. “I figured, she shouldn't be left alone since she's in an unfamiliar place.”

“Probably not a bad idea.”

“Kisuke?”

“Hmm?”

“You felt it, too, didn't you?”

His eyes fell closed and he nodded slightly in response to her question, lowering his right arm and crossing it with the other one over his chest.

“What the hell was that?” Yoruichi asked, keeping her voice low. The others were still inside, but the majority of them were awake and she didn't need to panic the entire household by allowing them to overhear the conversation she and Kisuke were having about their new guest.

“I have no idea,” Urahara replied with a quiet chuckle. “I'm sorry. I know it's not a laughing matter, but I just find it amusing the number of times I've said that, today.”

“What do you mean?” she wondered as she turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Urahara sighed deeply and pushed away from the wall, turning himself fully to look at her, and calmly reiterated everything Ichigo had told him before about the strange creatures he'd fought alongside the hollow. He carefully watched her expression as he relayed the information, and noticed her golden, cat-like eyes widen considerably as she inevitably came to the same conclusion he had already formed in his own mind.

“Normally, I'm the one with all the answers. That's probably why Ichigo came to me,” he concluded. “He didn't mention if Rukia saw them, but I imagine she did since she was with him fighting that hollow.”

“Kisuke... I'm sure you've already realized-- ”

“This may be Aizen's work,” he finished for her, nodding again as he let out a deep sigh. “I know. And if it is, then that means he's gotten back to full power much faster than we had anticipated.”

“That's not what I was going to say,” she corrected him, causing him to look up at her from under his hat, his blue-grey eyes still obscured by shadow.

“Doesn't it seem odd,” she continued, “that these strange creatures started showing up at the same time that this girl gets attacked by a hollow?”

“It could just be a coincidence,” Kisuke replied with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“It's not,” Yoruichi countered, turning to face him and crossing her arms over her chest. “You know it's not, Kisuke. There is nothing coincidental about a girl with strange reiatsu like that showing up at the exact same time as these... whatever they are.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” he asked her. “We can't very well just throw her out on the street, in her current state.”

“We need to get her out of here as soon as we can, though,” Yoruichi insisted. “Once she's conscious and we're sure she's going to live, she needs to go. We can't afford to let her stick around and have her get ahold of inside information on our strategies.”

“That is... assuming she does, in fact, have ties to Aizen,” he argued. “And if she does, it might benefit us to let her stay here as long as she likes.”

“Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer?” she questioned his logic, raising an eyebrow. “That doesn't always work out, you know. Look at what happened to Shinji.”

Kisuke nodded slightly. “I am well aware of that, Yoruichi-san, but I think that the first thing we need to do is determine what she already knows, if anything.”

“She could easily lie to us, Kisuke,” Yoruichi pointed out to him. “Are you really willing to take that chance?”

Kisuke remained silent for a long while, considering everything she had said. Yes, it did seem odd that this woman had shown up at the same time as the unidentifiable creatures that Ichigo had seen. It also hadn't escaped him that Aizen could possibly be behind either or possibly both of their sudden appearances. A part of him wanted to have faith that Aizen was still too weak to be able to pull off another scheme so soon, but his paranoid side couldn't help taking Yoruichi's concerns to heart.

“You know me,” he finally said, cracking a bit of a smile. “I always have a back-up plan for when things go wrong.”

She considered him for a moment, her eyes narrowed, then turned toward the shop and began making her way back inside.

“You better know what you're doing, Kisuke,” she warned him over her shoulder before disappearing through the front door, sliding it shut once more behind her.

Kisuke sighed and leaned back against the wall again, his head tilted back as he looked up at the clear night sky. If he was entirely honest, he really had no idea what he was getting himself into. But his instincts told him that the girl posed no threat to them, even if common sense asserted that she may very well be working for the enemy.

He just hoped his instincts could be trusted, this time.

Bleach: Dark Heart Dawning - Chapter 1

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 06:25:39 GMT

Title: Dark Heart Dawning
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: T/PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Urahara/OC; Renji/Rukia; Ichigo/Orihime; Yoruichi/Soifon; Tessai, Jinta, Ururu, Ririn, Kurodou, Noba, Kon, Kyouraku, Ukitake, Mayuri, Nemu, Yamamoto, Unohana, Isane, Chad, Uryuu... and a handful of other OCs.
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for the Hueco Mundo arc onward of the manga & anime.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations; semi-graphic violence
Summary: With Aizen on the mend following the Winter War, all seemed peaceful in Karakura Town... Until a new type of enemy arrived and reared its ugly head. It all started with the arrival of a woman...
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Bleach or its characters. They are the intellectual property of one Tite Kubo. Any non-canon characters you come across belong to me, however, and are not to be used in anyone else's stories without my permission.

Chapter One

It was raining.

The first rain of spring fell steadily from the sky, as if it was diligently working to wash away the remnants of the previous winter's battle. Many had been injured, some had fallen, but in the end the forces of Soul Society and their allies had won. The war was far from over, however. Yes, the hougyoku had been successfully destroyed. Aizen had failed to create the replica of the King's Key, and the majority of his forces had suffered their mortal fates. However, the man himself remained at large. It would only be a matter of time before he came up with another plan for domination and attempted to successfully implement it.

Kisuke Urahara sighed heavily and pulled his trademark green-and-white striped hat further down over his eyes as he stood beneath the overhang in front of his shop, contemplating his most dangerous rival's next move. Normally, the sound of the rain brought a certain sense of calm to him, but all he could think of as he listened to the staccato tapping of the droplets hitting the pavement was how each and every one of them reminded him of tears – the tears shed by all those who had lost someone or something during the Winter War. A part of him blamed himself for the whole mess. If he'd never invented that damn hougyoku in the first place, it never would have fallen into Aizen's power-hungry hands. At least they had been able to destroy it, though, with the help of Orihime's powers and his own knowledge of its origins.

“Urahara!”

His moment of self-loathing was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name, accompanied by the sound of two sets of footsteps smacking loudly against the wet pavement as they rushed in his direction. Lifting his head just enough to be able to peer out from under the brim of his hat, he found Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki heading toward him at a dead run. They were both currently in their shinigami forms, their shihakushous sticking heavily to their bodies from the rain. Kisuke was about to ask what the rush was about when he noticed the limp figure Ichigo was cradling in his arms.

“She was attacked by a hollow,” Rukia explained as they came to a stop before him, panting slightly. “This was the closest place we could think of to take her.”

“It looks pretty bad,” Ichigo added, sounding a bit crestfallen as his eyes moved down to the unconscious woman in his arms.

Kisuke's own gaze followed the younger man's as he took in the girl's appearance. She was young, but still had the face of an adult, with prominent cheekbones and a sharp nose. Her hair was brown, but it was also wet, and he knew it would be a lighter shade once dry. The clothes she wore were just as weighed down by the rain as those of the man carrying her, and by the way they clung to her form he could see that she appeared to be a bit on the thin side. Her skin was deathly pale, and as Ichigo shifted his grip Kisuke noticed copious amounts of blood seeping between his fingers from the wound on her side that the hollow had caused.

“Bring her in,” he ordered, stepping aside and sliding open the front door of the shop. He allowed the others to enter before him and immediately followed, not even bothering to close the door behind him as he rushed ahead of them to open the way into the back room for Ichigo.

“Tessai!” he called out as Ichigo laid the young woman down on the floor, keeping his hand pressed to her side in a vain attempt to stop her bleeding.

“Yes, boss?” came the gruff voice of Tessai Tsukabishi as he stepped into the room, holding a large ladle in one hand. A black cat followed him, immediately taking up a position along one wall as it watched the scene unfold before it with wise eyes.

“Have Ururu finish cooking dinner,” Kisuke instructed him, gesturing to their injured guest. “Please tend to this girl's wounds as best you can.”

Tessai nodded once and called out to Ururu, who obediently came rushing from her room to see what was needed of her. Tessai passed his ladle to her and gave her instructions on how to proceed with the rest of the cooking, then sent her to the kitchen as he knelt on the floor and began examining the girl, who had started to shiver.

“What's all this racket in here?” Renji Abarai asked as he wandered in from the hallway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I finally get a chance to catch some shut-eye before dinner and now you're all in here shouting.”

“Renji!” Rukia said his name curtly, admonishing him with a glare before pointing to where Ichigo was still kneeling on the floor across from Tessai. His drowsy eyes followed her finger and he blinked, suddenly very awake and feeling like a jackass as he realized the cause of the commotion.

“Renji, go fetch Orihime, in case her wounds are too much for Tessai to mend on his own,” Urahara told him.

Renji made a face as he looked out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets, which would plaster his clothing to his body and make it harder to get around. Not only that, but his long hair would get completely soaked and he'd have to let it dry out before he could put it back up in his usual ponytail again.

“I'll go,” Rukia offered, noticing his hesitation. “I'm already wet.”

“No! I'll go,” Renji insisted, shoving his Soul Candy into his mouth and taking off in spirit form before she could protest. Rukia smirked as he ran out the door. She knew he would rather brave a storm than let her have to go out in that kind of weather.

“Will she be alright?” Ichigo asked hopefully as Tessai continued his examination of the girl. The large man's features were set in a deep scowl of concentration, a thoughtful murmur rumbling low in his throat as he pushed aside Ichigo's hand to get a better look at her wound. To Urahara's surprise, what he had originally perceived to be a single wound was actually three elongated gashes in her side, equally spaced from one another. Apparently, the hollow had lashed out and caught her with some sort of claws.

“I can heal her wounds,” Tessai replied after a moment, poising his own hands over the injury as he began applying a healing kidou. “However, it appears she may have lost a good deal of blood, so I can't guarantee anything.”

“What if she got a transfusion?” Ichigo suggested as he leapt to his feet, thinking of his father's small family clinic. Surely, they must have some blood on hand for emergencies, as well as the necessary equipment to implement a transfusion. Even if they didn't, Uryuu's family owned a hospital that would.

“We can give her something to help bolster her up, once her wounds have been healed,” Urahara assured him, giving him a meaningful glance. Ichigo nodded and knelt on the floor once more, understanding exactly what was being said. He had been near-death when Urahara had found him after his first encounter with Renji and Byakuya, and had one of the weird shopkeeper's 'special potions' to thank for helping to save his life.

Frowning a bit, he turned his attention back to the woman he had failed to save from the hollow. Tessai was still working on healing her wounds, a light sweat breaking out on his rugged brow while he concentrated all of his energy into his hands as he held them over the deep cuts in her abdomen. Ichigo watched in amazement as the bleeding slowed to a mere trickle before stopping altogether, and continued to stare in awe as the wounds themselves gradually healed shut. No matter how many times he saw it, he still found it fascinating how easily Tessai and Orihime could heal even the most grievous of wounds without leaving so much as a scar.

“She's still shivering,” Rukia observed, kneeling near him and placing a palm against the girl's forehead to check for a fever.

“That's a side-effect of the blood loss,” Ichigo explained to her, happy for what little medical knowledge he possessed. He might have failed at keeping her safe, and perhaps he couldn't do anything to help heal her, but at least he could sound like he was contributing to the rescue effort by verbally assessing the situation. “Her wet clothes probably aren't helping much, either.”

“Well, then,” Urahara stated as he stood up, clapping his hands together. “I suppose we'll just have to get her changed into something a bit drier.”

“Hold it right there,” the cat said in its deceptively masculine voice, still seated against the far wall of the room. “What do you think you're doing?”

Urahara froze, bent halfway over the young woman's still form, his arms held out before him as he prepared to scoop her up into his embrace in order to carry her to one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor above the shop.

“Uh... As I said, Yoruichi-san, I was just going to get her changed out of her wet clothes into something suitably warmer and more dry.”

“I cannot let you do that,” the black cat replied, its tail twitching a bit in an annoyed manner as it narrowed its yellow eyes at the man.

“Why not?” Urahara inquired, feigning innocence. “As the proprietor of this shop and head of this household, it is my duty to show hospitality to all those who enter.”

“You and I both know you're a pervert, Kisuke,” the cat stated as its tail began slapping against the floor at an increased speed. “That poor girl deserves to keep some of her dignity, which will be lost if she has to deal with you pawing at her as you change her clothes.”

Urahara laughed lightly and straightened up once more, his hands falling limply to his sides in defeat.

“I should feel insulted that you are suggesting I would do something inappropriate in this situation,” he said, pulling out his white paper fan and opening it with a flick of his wrist. “However, I fully understand your concern. Should she come to while in the midst of being undressed by a strange man, she would be greatly traumatized.”

“I'll take care of her,” Yoruichi announced before transforming out of her feline guise and back into her human form.

“How is that going to be any better?” Ichigo shrieked, quickly covering his eyes to shield his gaze from the sight of the fully-naked woman standing before them. Rukia blushed while the other two men in the room had no visible reaction to her overt nudity, as they had grown accustomed to it in the centuries they had both known her.

“Kisuke, could you show me where to put her?” Yoruichi asked as she effortlessly picked up the unconscious woman, purposely ignoring Ichigo's outburst with a smirk.

“Certainly,” Urahara replied, leading her out of the room. Ichigo waited until he heard their retreating footsteps fade away down the hall before pulling his hands away from his eyes with a relieved sigh.

“Hey! Urahara! I brought Orihime, like you said!” Renji called loudly as he entered through the shop at the front, wringing the water out of his hair. Orihime quietly entered behind him, closing the door as she shook out her umbrella.

“Oh! We don't need her now, Renji,” Rukia called to him, leaning forward behind Ichigo's back so she could look out into the shop and address him directly, her lips curved into a devilish smile at the sight of him standing there, thoroughly drenched from the downpour. “But thank you for your hard work, anyway!”

Renji gaped at her, the corner of his eye twitching slightly.

The things I do for love, he thought, annoyed at himself.

“Ichigo!” Orihime called as she walked past him at a brisk pace into the back room, taking up a seat on the floor next to Ichigo. “Renji said someone was injured by a hollow.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo told her, turning slightly to face her. “Tessai here was able to heal her, but she's still in a pretty bad state.”

“The boss and I will take good care of her, don't worry,” Tessai assured them.

“Thank you,” Ichigo told him, then got to his feet with a small sigh. “I'm going to go have a word with Urahara.”

Orihime watched him as he left the room, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and his gait more sluggish than normal. She could sense that something was weighing heavily on his mind, and had half a good idea as to what that something was. He always felt down whenever someone was hurt by a hollow, feeling it was his fault for not being able to protect them. Every time she caught him in that sort of mood, she wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him and tell him it wasn't his fault. Her eyes moved surreptitiously toward where Rukia was still sitting, and she could tell by the look on the shinigami's face that she, too, had noticed the nearly imperceptible change in his demeanor. Thankfully, though, Rukia didn't jump up and rush after Ichigo to attempt to knock some sense back into him the way she so often did whenever he got into one of his dark moods. Orihime felt a slight twinge of regret for having such jealous thoughts, but she had resolved to herself after they had survived the Winter War that she would be more outgoing and true to her feelings toward Ichigo.

All she had to do was find the courage she needed to wrap him in her arms and tell him everything would be alright.

Overhaul

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 23:54:58 GMT

Okay... So, again, I'm going to attempt to revive this LJ account. Didn't have much luck last time, but maybe this time I'll fair better at it. Not like anyone's probably reading this any more, anyway... But oh well... At least I'll have it for me.

Same rule as before applies for fanfic: First three chapters of multi-chapter stories unlocked, with the rest classified as Friends Only. So if you start reading something you like and find you can't get to the rest of it, hit me up on the Friends List post (it's the first one at the top of the main journal page, in case you didn't notice) and I'll add you so you can see them.

You may also want to ask to be added to the Friends List if you want to know what's going on in my personal life, because I'm not planning on leaving those updates unlocked very often, either. Really... the only things that won't be locked are fun little silly things like memes and personality quizzes. And announcements like this, of course.

P.S. Like my kitteh? I saw the icon somewhere and just fell in love with its cuteness, lol.

Becase I am a dork...

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 00:15:57 GMT

I took a little quiz to see which Tokio Hotel member I'm most like. And wouldn' you know it:

I could have old them that, though, lol.. since every time see some sort of bhind-the-scenes video of him I can't help but think how much like me he seems.

HYD: The Matchmaker (3/??)

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 04:36:37 GMT

I threw in an Ouran High School Host Club reference in this chapter. Actually, I think it was in the last chapter, too. But it's bigger in this one, because it's more than a passing mention. See if you can pick it out.

Title: The Matchmaker
Fandom: Hana Yori Dango (dramaverse)
Rating: R
Characters:
Pairing: Rui/OC; Tsukasa/Tsukushi; slight Soujiroh/Yuki
Spoilers: It's highly recommended that you watch the dramas before reading this, since there's mentions of several events that took place in it throughout the story, and the story itself picks up directly following the prom in the last episode of the second season.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations
Summary: Having lost Makino to Domyouji, Rui was alone once again. Enter Shizuka, who is sure she's found a perfect match for her closest friend. Will these two hit it off, or will it be strike three for Rui?
Disclaimer: Hana Yori Dango isn't mine. I'm just having a little fun playing "what if?"
Note: In case you missed it before, this story is set in the Dramaverse. There may be a few things taken note of from the mangas, but 98% of it is based on the dramas, which are the only HYD reference I have readily available to me.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2

Chapter Three

The Hitachiin Boutique was located in the heart of the Ginza shopping district, and like most other things she had experienced thus far during her trip, Erika found it to be an overly extravagant shop. The moment they set foot inside, she and Shizuka were approached by two stuffy female store clerks in matching black suits. The clerks welcomed them and led them through the shop, past dozens of racks of designer outfits, each one completely unique. Erika grabbed the tag on one of the dresses as they walked past, glancing down quickly at the price and nearly choking on her own saliva when she saw that it cost more than a year's rent of her apartment back in Paris.

“Here we are,” Shizuka said, clapping her hands together excitedly as they entered a private dressing room at the back of the boutique. “Now, let's see if we can't find the perfect gown for you.”

Erika opened her mouth to protest, but Shizuka cut her off, saying something to the other two women in Japanese as she all but shoved Erika at them. The women nodded and led her into a curtained dressing area, where they took her measurements before leaving her alone – taking her clothes with them so she couldn't escape.

“Did you tell them to not let me run?” Erika shouted so that Shizuka could hear her in the waiting area outside.

“Yes, I did,” Shizuka replied as she began following the two store clerks. “I know how much you hate dressing up, so I felt it was necessary to take extra precautions. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pick your dress.”

Erika stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the dressing area of the boutique, her face scrunched up in distaste as she examined the dress Shizuka had selected for her. It was a nice enough dress – a sleek, floor-length, halter-style gown with rhinestone accents at the waist – but the color leaved something to be desired.

“What's wrong?” Shizuka asked, sipping her tea as she watched from a chaise lounge nearby.

“It's red,” Erika pointed out.

“So?”

“I'll stick out like a sore thumb. Which, quite frankly, I'm going to do anyway considering the fact that I'm a gaijin, but can we please find a dress that makes it a little less obvious?” she pleaded.

“Very well,” Shizuka conceded. Erika returned to the dressing room as she gave new orders to the clerks, and waited patiently for the next dress to arrive. When it did, she couldn't help but scrunch up her nose at it a bit, but put it on without complaint before stepping back into the main area of the room.

“What's wrong with this one?” Shizuka asked when she saw the sour expression that was contorting her friend's features.

“No way in hell,” Erika stated sternly.

“Oh, come on,” Shizuka argued. “I think it looks nice on you.”

“It's green, Shizuka.”

“Yes, and it brings out the flecks of green in your eyes,” she pointed out.

“Are we going to a Christmas party?” Erika asked her, annoyed.

“Well, no...”

“Then I'm not wearing this dress. No redhead should wear a green dress unless it's Christmas. Especially not one this frilly,” she added, gesturing to the bunched layers of the skirt.

“Fine,” Shizuka sighed, standing up and walking over to the rack of dresses she had grabbed as potential candidates for Erika's perfect look. She had initially selected them with Rui in mind, focusing more on finding something that would keep his attention through the evening, but now it was quite apparent that she was going to have to put his needs after Erika's if she wanted the girl to even set foot in the party to begin with.

“Try this one,” she suggested after a brief deliberation, pulling a strapless ice blue satin gown with a slight bustle off the rack and handing it to her. Erika sighed and retreated to the changing area, and Shizuka returned to her seat, picking up her tea cup once more.

Nearly five minutes later, Erika finally reemerged into the dressing room, causing Shizuka's hand to still with her cup halfway to her lips. The gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her small waist and showing just the right amount of cleavage. The color matched her eyes, making them seem bigger, and was pale enough to make her naturally fair skin look a bit rosier. She was surprised when Erika had no complaints, instead looking a bit nervous as she moved to stand in front of the mirror.

“How do I look?” she asked a bit self-consciously, running her hands down the front of the dress to smooth out any wrinkles.

“Like a princess,” Shizuka assured her with a smile, taking a sip of her tea before setting the cup down and getting up to move closer and get a better look. “Although,” she added, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Erika's reflection in the mirror. She then turned to one of the clerks and said something to her in Japanese. The clerk nodded and moved closer to Erika, placing a hand down the front of the dress in between her breasts, and Erika yelped, smacking the woman's hand away as her cheeks flushed.

“What did you say to her?” she demanded, turning to Shizuka, who was doing her best to suppress her laughter.

“I told her I thought you could use a little... boost,” Shizuka said with a small shrug of her shoulders.

“I am fully capable of doing that myself, thank you,” Erika told her, her cheeks growing even redder. Sighing deeply, she reached into the top of the dress and adjusted her breasts. “Great, now I feel like I'm going to fall out of this thing.”

“You'll be fine,” Shizuka assured her. “We'll style your hair, you can wear some of my jewelry, and you'll be the most stunning girl at the party.”

“But isn't this party for Tsukushi and Tsukasa?” Erika asked. “They should be the center of attention, not me.”

“Believe me, they'll welcome the diversion. Tsukushi will, at any rate. She hates being the center of attention.”

“And what about her attention-whore boyfriend?”

“He'll live if he's not the topic of everyone's conversations for onenight. Now come on, we have more shopping to do,” Shizuka ordered as she began making her way back out to the main shop.

“But... I thought we decided on this dress?”

“We did.”

“So we should be done shopping, right?”

“No, we're going to pick out some new outfits for your daily wear, too,” Shizuka informed her.

“What's wrong with the clothes I already have?” Erika protested.

“You hardly brought any dresses or skirts with you.”

“So? You know that's not exactly my style, Shizuka.”

“I know,” Shizuka said, “but there's a saying: A girl should try to look cute when she visits a foreign land, because she never knows when love may be right around the corner.”

“You're making that up,” Erika accused. “I've never heard that before.”

“It's a Japanese saying,” Shizuka countered, smirking in satisfaction. She had, in fact, just made it up, but there was no way for her to really know that.

“I don't care,” Erika stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn't come to Japan for you to play dress-up doll with me, you know. Besides, if I do meet a guy while I'm here, I want him to like me for who I am, not because of some phony exterior you've forced upon me.”

“Fair enough,” Shizuka replied with a nod. “But just let me pick outone day dress for you, okay? Please?”

Erika tried to glare at the other woman, but she couldn't say no to the almost hopefully pleading look in her eyes. Sighing, she turned away, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

“One dress.”

Shizuka nodded and exited the dressing room, returning not even a minute later with her hands behind her back.

“That was quick,” Erika observed, blinking in surprise.

“Turn around,” Shizuka ordered, gesturing for her to turn back toward the mirror. Erika raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but complied with her demand, turning to face the full-length mirror once more. Grinning, Shizuka came up behind her and pulled the dress from behind her back, holding it up in front of her.

Erika's eyes went wide at the reflection. The dress Shizuka was holding up in front of her was simple, much simpler than anything else she had seen in the entire boutique, made of white cotton with a small floral print of pink roses embroidered into the skirt and cap sleeves. She couldn't be sure because the dress she had on came down to the floor, but she was almost positive that the length of the skirt would reach her mid-calves when worn.

“How did you?” she asked quietly, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“The designer owed me a favor,” Shizuka explained. “I filled in for one of her models at the last minute once, even though I was sick. I faxed over a copy of that picture you showed me, and she used it as a reference. I know it's probably not exactly the same, but...”

“No,” Erika said, shaking her head. “It's perfect. It's exactly like I remember. Thank you.”

Shizuka smiled, reaching over and pulling some of Erika's hair in front of her shoulders. “You know, you really do look a lot like her.”

Erika nodded, a couple of tears falling free as she blinked, and Shizuka handed her a tissue.

“You know,” she said, sniffling a little as she dabbed at her eyes. “Maybe I could stand to have a couple of new outfits. Nothing too girlie, though,” she added, pointing a warning finger at Shizuka.

“Understood,” Shizuka agreed, smiling.

“Shizuka, aren't we done yet?” Erika complained, lagging several steps behind the older woman as they walked down the sidewalk. They had been shopping all afternoon, going to two shoe stores and a jewelry emporium after leaving the Hitachiin Boutique, and she was beginning to get tired.

“One more place, and we can go home,” Shizuka informed her.

“It had better not be another shoe store,” Erika groaned. “Seriously, I don't understand how you can be so obsessed with shoes. How many pairs do you have now, anyway?”

“Including the ones I just bought today?” She paused to think. “Almost seventy.”

“That's sixty-seven too many, in my book.”

Shizuka laughed. “Well, this next place we're going to isn't a shoe store. Actually, I think you'll rather enjoy it,” she commented, turning her head to grin mischievously at her companion.

“Oh goodie,” Erika muttered, not really convinced.

“Here we are,” Shizuka stated, suddenly stopping.

Erika turned to look at the store she was about to be dragged into and furrowed her brow in confusion. The window displays were blessedly free of footwear, but they also didn't appear to have any other fashion paraphernalia in them, either.

“What's this?” she asked, turning back to Shizuka.

“It's an art supply shop,” Shizuka informed her with a wink. Erika playfully smacked her shoulder.

“You brat! Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. You didn't really think I would make you go all summer without being able to practice your craft, did you? Actually, I was going to have some things waiting for you when you arrived, but when I came here myself I was so overwhelmed and I had no idea what you would require, so I figured it would be best to just bring you here and let you make your own selections.”

Erika smiled and rushed into the store with the eagerness of a child who had been let loose in an amusement park, and Shizuka laughed at the sudden change from her previously grouchy attitude. She was about to follow her inside when someone called her name, and she began looking around to find out who had addressed her.

“Shizuka!” Tsubaki called her name again, waving as she hurried over to her. “How have you been? I haven't seen you in ages!”

“Silly, you saw me last night at the prom,” Shizuka reminded her.

“Well, yes... but we didn't really get to talk, did we?” Tsubaki clarified, pushing her hair back behind her shoulder and adjusting the strap of the shopping bag on her shoulder. “What are you doing this far down the strip, anyway?”

“I was just bringing a friend here to do some shopping,” Shizuka replied, gesturing toward the art supply shop.

“Ah, and would this be the girl you were telling me about before?” Tsubaki asked, craning her neck to try to catch a glimpse of the girl in question inside the shop.

“Yes, it would,” Shizuka said, nodding. “Come here.” She began walking toward the entrance of the shop, gesturing for the other woman to follow. Tsubaki kept close to her, readjusting her shopping bags once more, and followed Shizuka's line of sight as she pointed to a red-haired girl wearing denim shorts and a pale yellow tank top who was comparing tubes of paint.

"That's her."

“She's sort of plain,” Tsubaki commented, keeping her voice down so the girl wouldn't notice them spying on her.

“That's just because of the way she's dressed,” Shizuka pointed out. “She can really be quite stunning, when she puts some effort into it. Besides, Tsukushi is plain, and Rui fell for her.”

“Rui also fell for you, and you're far from plain,” Tsubaki reminded her.

“I don't think looks really matter, to him,” Shizuka said, desperate to change the subject. “What he craves is more of an emotional connection.”

“And you really think this girl is the right one for him?” Tsubaki asked, unconvinced.

Shizuka nodded, a determined look in her eyes.

“I'm positive.”

HYD: The Matchmaker (2/??)

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 04:27:06 GMT

Title: The Matchmaker
Fandom: Hana Yori Dango (dramaverse)
Rating: R
Characters:
Pairing: Rui/OC; Tsukasa/Tsukushi; slight Soujiroh/Yuki
Spoilers: It's highly recommended that you watch the dramas before reading this, since there's mentions of several events that took place in it throughout the story, and the story itself picks up directly following the prom in the last episode of the second season.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations
Summary: Having lost Makino to Domyouji, Rui was alone once again. Enter Shizuka, who is sure she's found a perfect match for her closest friend. Will these two hit it off, or will it be strike three for Rui?
Disclaimer: Hana Yori Dango isn't mine. I'm just having a little fun playing "what if?"
Note: In case you missed it before, this story is set in the Dramaverse. There may be a few things taken note of from the mangas, but 98% of it is based on the dramas, which are the only HYD reference I have readily available to me.

Previous Chapters: 1

Chapter Two

Erika rolled over onto her back in the large bed, groaning in protest when her face was hit with the bright light of the sun coming in through the large picture window. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she slowly opened her eyelids to peek at the clock sitting on the mantle of the fireplace next to the window.

“One fifty-two,” she muttered to herself as she let her heavy eyelids fall back into place. A moment later, she sat upright in bed, suddenly wide awake.

“One fifty-two?!” she repeated in disbelief, throwing aside the covers and jumping out of bed. She sprinted across the room, backtracking a few steps shy of the door to grab the robe she had tossed over one of the chairs in the room and pulling it around herself as she threw open the door and quickly walked down the hallway toward the stairs. She passed a few of the servants along the way, but either they didn't notice her or decided it was best to not pay attention to the strange girl who was now descending the grand staircase at full speed.

“Shizuka!” Erika called as she reached the bottom of the steps, her tone of voice none too pleased. “Shizuka Todo, where are you?”

“What's wrong?” Shizuka asked as she stepped into the main hallway from one of the many rooms on the first floor, her features drawn up in concern over her friend's frantic state.

“Why did you let me sleep so late?” Erika replied, the volume of her voice considerably lower. “It's almost two in the afternoon!”

“I figured with the time difference, you could use the extra rest.”

“But... But...” Erika stammered, trying to think of something to say. Shizuka had a valid point. She'd lost a good deal of time traveling from Paris to Tokyo and she had been utterly exhausted. “But I'm a guest, and it's rude to your host to sleep in so late.”

Shizuka laughed and walked over to Erika, surprising her when she gave her a hug.

“You needn't worry about that, Erika,” she assured her. “When I first started traveling back and forth, I used to sleep in late, too. I'm just used to the jet lag now. And by the way,” she added, lowering her voice. “You may want to actually close up that robe you're wearing.”

Shizuka released her, and Erika looked down at herself. In her rush to find her friend, she had forgotten to tie the sash of the robe she was wearing, and it hung open to reveal the short satin nightgown Shizuka had provided for her the night before. Blushing, she quickly pulled the robe shut in front and hastily tied the sash in a firm knot around her waist.

“It's too bad the F4 weren't here to see that,” Shizkua remarked with a teasing wink, causing Erika's cheeks to burn even brighter.

“The F4... Isn't that the group of boys you grew up with?” Shuzkua nodded in reply. “Wh-why would you want them to see me like this?”

“No reason,” Shizuka replied before heading back to the dining room. “Are you hungry? I had the chef prepare some of your favorite sandwiches.”

Erika remained standing in the foyer for a moment, wondering if she had just imagined the satisfied smirk on the other woman's lips, then followed her host to the dining room.

“Ho-ly...” she exclaimed as she entered the room and found a table that was easily big enough to seat at least forty people. The entire surface was covered by a single lace tablecloth, and while there were chairs to seat an entire house full of guests, only two of them had place settings before them.

“Do youalways eat in here?” Erika asked from the doorway, once again too overcome with the extravagance of Shizuka's lifestyle.

“Not always,” Shizuka answered, gesturing for her to take a seat in the chair next to hers. “Sometimes I'll go out on the patio overlooking the gardens when the weather is nice – like today. I just didn't want you getting lost,” she teased.

“How very thoughtful of you,” Erika remarked sarcastically as she sat down and looked over the spread before them. Several platters were piled high with various creations, and she counted at least three different types of soup in carafes and four distinct deserts. It wasn't modest, by any means, but she supposed to someone like Shizuka it was very modest, indeed.

“Here,” Shizuka said, sliding a platter piled high with sandwiches toward her. “I helped the chef make them, so I hope they're right: Turkey with cranberry sauce and lettuce, light on the mayo.”

“You didn't have to,” Erika insisted as she picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite out of the corner. She closed her eyes as she chewed slowly, making a small, appreciative sound that brought a satisfied grin to Shizkua's face.

“I take it they're right, then?”

“They're perfect,” Erika assured her as she took another bite.

“Good. Eat up, because we have a busy afternoon of shopping ahead of us.”

Erika opened her eyes as she swallowed, picking up a napkin from the table to blot at a dab of mayonnaise that that affixed itself to the corner of her mouth.

“I guess that means they never found my luggage.”

“No, they found it,” Shizuka answered, “but we're going shopping, anyway. Like I said, we need to get you a dress for the engagement party.”

“And I will ask you again,” Erika retorted. “What engagement party?”

Shizuka smiled apologetically, taking a sip of water from her crystal goblet, then leaned closer to Erika, resting her forearms on the table.

“Remember how I told you about my friend Tsukushi?” she asked, unable to stop herself from grinning at the thought of the happy news she was telling her about.

Erika nodded slightly, speaking around a mouthful of her sandwich. “The one who was dating that immature jerk Tsukasa, right?”

“He's not an immature jerk,” Shizuka defended him.

“Oh please,” Erika argued. “The proprietor of that 'red notice' crap? I somehow seriously doubt a mature person would come up with something like that.”

“Fair point,” Shizkua conceded. “But that was two years ago. He's grown up a lot since then. Now, as I was saying,” she continued, attempting to get back on track. “Tsukasa asked her to marry him last night. She accepted, and so the others are organizing an engagement party for the two of them.”

“And when is this party?”

“This coming weekend.”

“I see,” Erika said. “So you want me to get all fancied up and go to a party full of people I don't know less than a week after my arrival in a completely foreign country where I don't even speak the language, let alone know the customs.”

“You'll be fine,” Shizuka told her, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “High society parties here really aren't that much different from anywhere else.”

“Great,” Erika muttered under her breath, grabbing her glass and taking a long drink. She had had more than her share of 'high society' to last a lifetime. Sure, Shizuka wasn't as bad as most rich people she knew, but she was the exception. Spending a night at a party full of stuffy, arrogant rich kids who constantly looked down their noses at everyone around them who wasn't from a wealthy lineage was far from her idea of a good time.

“And it's not like you'll be there alone,” Shizuka continued, offering her a warm smile meant to put her at ease. “I'll be there, plus Tsukushi and the F4.”

“Who I've never even met,” Erika pointed out.

“Yet,” Shizuka corrected her, sitting back in her chair.

“Yet?”

“We're having dinner with them tonight, at Rui's house. And I believe Tsukushi's friend Yuuki will be there, too, so you'll also get the opportunity to meet her... and Tsukasa's sister, Tsubaki. And possibly Shigeru.”

Erika laughed a little, nervously. “Anyone else?”

Shizuka paused to think for a moment. “No, I believe that's everyone.”

Erika nodded, then her eyes suddenly went wide. “Wait... Shigeru? Isn't that the girl Tsukasa was supposed to be marrying?”

“Yes.”

“What's she doing here?” Erika asked, confused.

“Tsukasa invited her.” Shizuka laughed at the even more hopelessly confused look on her face and decided further explanation was in order. “She isfriends with Tsukushi, after all, and he wanted to try to make amends by renewing talks with her family concerning the potential merger of their corporations.”

“It's moments like this that I'm reminded exactly how far apart the two worlds we live in are,” Erika remarked, laughing when Shizuka tossed a napkin at her. “Really, though, Shizuka... You sound like my ex-boyfriend's father when you talk like that, about stuff like 'potential mergers of corporations',” she added in a mock haughty tone.

“I sound nothing like that,” Shizuka insisted, laughing.

“I know,” Erika admitted. “I was just trying to make a point.”

“Point taken,” Shizuka said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Erika. “Eat up, we're due to be at the Hitachiin Boutique in less than an hour.”

“Less than an hour?” Erika exclaimed. “But I need to take a shower and get dressed yet!”

“Then you'd better hurry,” Shizuka told her, unable to keep from smiling.

“This is exactly why you shouldn't have let me sleep in,” Erika scolded her as she stood up, grabbing the sandwich from her plate and rushing from the dining room as she continued eating.

“Sorry,” Shizuka called after her, laughing.

HYD: The Matchmaker (1/??)

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 03:59:37 GMT

Yeah... I'm guilty of attempting to multi-task stories again. Hopefully, this time it'll go more smoothly than my previous attempts.

Anyway... I started writing this after watching the Hana Yori Dango dramas for probably the dozenth time. Every time I watch it, I always end up feeling sorry for Rui at the end. Why such a sweet cutie has to end up alone... it's heartbreaking, really. So I decided to fix that, by way of writing this fic.

Title: The Matchmaker
Fandom: Hana Yori Dango (dramaverse)
Rating: R
Characters:
Pairing: Rui/OC; Tsukasa/Tsukushi; slight Soujiroh/Yuki
Spoilers: It's highly recommended that you watch the dramas before reading this, since there's mentions of several events that took place in it throughout the story, and the story itself picks up directly following the prom in the last episode of the second season.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations
Summary: Having lost Makino to Domyouji, Rui was alone once again. Enter Shizuka, who is sure she's found a perfect match for her closest friend. Will these two hit it off, or will it be strike three for Rui?
Disclaimer: Hana Yori Dango isn't mine. I'm just having a little fun playing "what if?"
Note: In case you missed it before, this story is set in the Dramaverse. There may be a few things taken note of from the mangas, but 98% of it is based on the dramas, which are the only HYD reference I have readily available to me.

Chapter One

Shizuka Todo sighed to herself as she closed the heavy wooden door of her family's large mansion behind her. She was elated that things had gone so well for Tsukushi and Tsukasa, but the joyfulness of the night's events had worn her out nearly to the point of complete exhaustion. Slipping off her shoes, she let out another sigh, grateful to finally be rid of them and let her aching feet breathe. Yes, she loved getting dressed up, but for as much as she loved the designer shoes she could afford to splurge on, she hated the way they always seemed to confine her feet.

She quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall toward her room, knowing that her parents and most of the staff had probably turned in for the night. Things had gone on later than expected, and while she knew one or two of the servants would still be awake, waiting to see if she required anything before turning in, the majority of them would have gotten to bed as early as they normally did in preparation of rising just before sunrise to begin their daily chores about the house.

“Shizuka?”

Shizuka turned at the sound of her name, a smile lighting up her tired face when she saw who had addressed her. The girl was a few inches shorter than her, even without the added height of her shoes, with wide blue eyes and red hair reaching just below her shoulders that curled slightly at the ends. Her pale skin was devoid of the numerous freckles that often plagued those with her coloring – a fact she herself had told Shizuka she considered to be a blessing – and the only mark marring her fair complexion was a small scar along her collarbone on the right side.

“Erika, so glad you've made it here safely,” Shizuka addressed her, stepping closer to the doorway she was standing in. “How was your trip?”

Erkia nodded slightly. “Aside from the delay and my luggage getting lost, it was just fine.”

“Your luggage was lost?” Shuzuka asked, blinking in disbelief.

“They swore the bags were put on your jet, but they were nowhere on that plane when we landed. Hence the reason I'm still wearing this,” she finished, gesturing to the casual attire she was currently wearing, which consisted of jeans and a t-shirt for a band Shizuka had gone with her to see in concert.

“So that's why you didn't come to the prom.”

“Actually,” Erika said, looking a bit uncomfortable, “I likely wouldn't have gone, anyway.”

“Why not?” Shizuka asked her, looking a bit disappointed.

“Don't get me wrong, I really did appreciate your offer, but it really wasn't my place to just barge in. I mean, it wasn't exactly myschool. I wouldn't have known anyone there besides you.”

“I could have introduced you to some people,” Shizuka told her with a kind smile. Especially one person in particular, she added in the back of her mind.

“I'm sorry, Shizuka,” Erika apologized. “I know you said you wanted me to meet your friends. I would like to meet them, honestly.”

Shizuka waved off her apology with one hand, shaking her head as she continued smiling at her. “Another time.”

Erika nodded. “Definitely.”

“I'm sure you must be tired,” Shizuka said, noticing the slight drooping of the girl's eyelids. “Has anyone shown you to your room?” Erika shook her head and Shizkua gestured down the hallway with her hand. “This way.”

Erika quietly followed as Shizuka led her to her room, looking about the house in silent wonder. Never had she seen such a place. Even her old boyfriend, who had been the golden boy of her hometown, hadn't lived in a house this big. It was more like a castle than a house. It made her more than a little uncomfortable being in such a wealthy setting, even though she knew she was a welcome guest.

It had surprised her to find out that Shizuka had come from such a family. Sure, she was beautiful and always well-dressed, but she had always been so genuinely kind and considerate to everyone that Erika had a hard time believing that she was from one of the wealthiest families in Japan. She had known her share of rich people in her life, and more often than not they turned out to be snobs who looked down on the lower classes – like her ex-boyfriend.

“Here we are,” Shizuka said, pulling Erika out of her thoughts. She watched as Shizkua pushed open a set of double doors and walked into a room that was easily twice the size of the entire apartment she had been renting back in Paris.

“Wow,” Erika breathed in awe as she followed Shizuka into the room, turning around as she walked so she could see the room in its entirety. The walls were adorned with candelabras held aloft by marble cherubs, and delicately carved moldings that appeared to be made from solid gold. Several paintings hung on the walls, and she was sure they weren'tduplicates. Above their heads, not one, but two chandeliers glimmered, casting the room in a soft glow. “This... isreally too much Shizuka. Don't you have a smaller guest room I could stay in?”

“The only smaller rooms are in the servants' quarters, and you're not staying there,” Shizuka insisted as she began digging around in an antique dresser against one wall.

“Well... thanks for letting me stay here for the summer. I appreciate it.”

“Not at all,” Shizuka replied with a shake of her head, pulling out night clothes that she thought might fit the smaller woman. “After all, I know how much you were loathing the idea of going home over the break.”

Erika held up her hands, silently asking her to stop talking. “Can we please not discuss that?”

“Understood,” Shizuka agreed with a nod, smiling in apology, then handed her the neatly folded clothes. “Here. These might be a little big, but they'll do for tonight. If your bags haven't been located by morning, we'll go shopping and get you some new clothes.”

“How am I supposed to afford--”

Shizuka waved off her concerns. “You're my guest, remember? Don't worry about it.”

“Alright... Thank you,” Erika said, bowing appreciatively.

“Get some sleep,” Shizuka ordered her with a smile, her voice taking on an almost motherly tone. “Tomorrow's going to be a busy day.”

“It is?” Erika asked, blinking in confusion.

“I'll take you to meet my friends, and we'll start getting you fitted for your dress.”

“My dress?” she echoed, growing even more confused by the minute.

Shizuka nodded. “For the engagement party.”

“What engagement party?”

“I'll explain in the morning,” Shizuka informed her, giving her a gentle push toward the bed. “Now, rest.”

Erika opened her mouth to protest, but ended up yawning instead, Shikuza laughed and wished her a good night, then retreated from the room before she could regain her composure and begin arguing with her about being so vague. Perhaps she hadn't been able to introduce Rui to her at the prom, but that small detail would be rectified soon enough.

Back in her room, as she prepared for bed, Erika wondered what, exactly, she had gotten herself into by accepting Shizuka Todo's summer invitation.

Some Changes...

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 00:06:01 GMT

As you have probably already noticed, I've decided to enact some changes to my rather neglected journal as part of a "revival" of sorts.

Firstly, the majority of the posts here are now Friends-locked, including the following:

-Almost all fanfiction pieces written for challenge communities (since I'm through with challenges now) with the exception of a few personal favorites.
-All but the first three chapters of every multi-chapter fic I've written/been writing.
-Personal entries that I don't think deserve to be common knowledge to just anyone who stumbles in here.

What prompted this sudden change? Partly LiveJournal and their asinine new "flagging" system, partly just a personal decision.

Anyway... If you already had me listed as a friend, you've been friended. I just went through and friended everyone I hadn't already friended before because I simply wasn't aware of having been friended (since LJ didn't always send out a notification of such a thing).

For new readers, you'll either want to hit up the soon-to-be-posted "Friends Only" request post, or just friend me and wait 24 hours. That's the most it'll take me to friend you back, usually. As soon as I get the e-mail notification from LJ, you're in.

The next step after this locking bonanza is most likely going to be a layout revamp. I have a nice little header graphic I'd like to use, but I'm going to need the assistance of one of my more graphically-inclined friends. (Any volunteers? lol)

After that... there's a couple of other small things I'd like to do, but nothing that will really affect any of you, dear readers.

Oh yeah... and I'm also going to attempt to get back on a weekly posting schedule for updates to fics. Hopefully my health and my muses cooperate with me and that can become a reality.

I believe that about sums it all up. So if you've actually taken the time to read all this, thanks. Here's a cookie for your trouble. Now excuse me while I go do some stuff.

FFVII/KH: Wedding Bell Blues (Chapter 1/??)

Sun, 06 May 2007 14:50:53 GMT

Okay, I promised to post some actual, writing... so here's some! lol... I know, it's not the next chapter of Calamity's Daughter or Mind Swap, but those are on the way and should be up sometime next week. And yes, I realize I'm starting on yet another new story, but this one is going to be relatively short (five, maybe six chapters, max). In order to alleviate some confusion, I want to point out right off the bat that this story takes place in a completely different universe from my own. It's actually a sort of mini-sequel to my friend ladykarai's story, The Night Within My Eyes. (Go read it, it's good!) So the Reno and Cera in this story aren't excatly the same as the ones you all know and love. But anyway... here it is:

Title: Wedding Bell Blues
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII/Kingdom Hearts
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Reno/Cera (OC), Riku/Yuko (OC), Sora/Kairi, Tseng/Elena, Vincent/Lucrecia, Zell, Rude, Tifa, Yuffie, Leon, Rufus, Devalin (OC), Casia (OC), Mr. Auchenleck (OC)
Spoilers: Enh... only for The Night Within My Eyes, if you haven't read it.
Warnings: Adult language; AU to an AU (lol)
Summary: What happens when Reno decides to get married? All manner of situations.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the canon. Square-Enix owns all that good stuff, and they've got the big bucks to show for it.
Note: Based on the world of The Night Within My Eyes.

Chapter One

Yuko stood in the center of the small, crowded room, clutching the headpiece of the veil in one hand and staring at it almost wistfully as she stroked her other hand over the fine, shimmering tulle that flowed down to the floor. She remained oblivious to the commotion around her as the others scrambled to fix a hole near the seam at the bottom of the bride's dress, her mind playing and replaying the conversation she had had the previous night with Riku after the rehearsal dinner.

“You never know,” he had said. “We could be next.”

Ever since he had said those words, she had felt somewhat detached from the rest of the world. Marriage was a big commitment, and as much as she loved him, she wasn't sure she was ready to be thinking about it just yet.

Get a grip, she reprimanded herself. It's not like he proposed to you or anything. He simply mentioned it as a future possibility.

Someone bumped into her, jarring her from her thoughts, and she looked up into the face of Cera's friend Casia. She was slightly older than all of them, at the age of twenty-two, and had lost her husband in the Heartless invasion on Balamb. Despite her loss, however, she still managed to keep a smile on her face that lit up her green eyes with an infectious sparkle.

“Sorry, Yuko,” she apologized, tucking a light brown ringlet of hair behind one ear. “There was a sewing kit around here somewhere. Have you seen it?”

Yuko shook her head carefully, praying that her blonde hair would remain secure in her own elegant updo as she moved aside and looked around on the vanity table she had been standing in front of. There was plenty of makeup and other various beauty supplies, but no sewing kit.

“You can't even see it, Cera!” Yuffie commented, shrugging her slender shoulders. “Why are you so fixated on sewing it up?”

“Because,” Cera replied calmly, though Yuko could see by the look on her face that she was barely holding her sanity together, “I need everything to be perfect today. The last thing I want to do is give those... those people a reason to complain.”

Yuffie winced, obviously sorry she had brought up the subject. Reno's family was a topic Cera didn't care to discuss much, ever since his father had tried to pay her off so that she would break off the engagement to his son.

The bride's three attendants fell into silence as they renewed their search for the missing sewing kit, and Yuko found herself feeling quite grateful that Riku's parents had welcomed her so warmly. If and when their time came, she wouldn't have the need to be stressing over a tiny hole in her dress the way Cera was.

“I got it!” Casia called after a moment, waving the small travel kit in her hand as she trotted over to Cera and knelt down to fix her dress.

“Breathe, Reno... That's it, just breathe...”

Reno concentrated on taking deep breaths as Zell coached him. He had been fine all morning, but once they had reached the church he began panicking. He was still only half-dressed, his shirt untucked and his tuxedo jacket hanging open while his tie lay on a nearby table. Zell, his best man, had been trying for the last half hour – without much success – to get him to put the tie on. Every time he got it around his neck, the redhead would have another sudden panic attack.

“I can't do this, yo,” he insisted, running both hands back through his messy hair. “I mean, I love Cera and all, but I... I can't!”

“You can and you will, especially after the fuss you made when Father said he didn't approve.”

Reno let go of his head and turned to glare at his brother, Rufus. The younger man was leaning back against the wall in his perfectly tailored white suit, arms crossed over his chest. A lock of his dark blonde hair fell into his icy blue eyes, so much like his but so completely different as well. If Reno was the rebellious one, Rufus was the one who always followed daddy's orders and did whatever it took to stay on the man's good side – even if it meant bribery and lies.

“How did you convince him to let you marry her, anyway?” Sora wondered. He was seated on a small, wooden bench along the wall next to the door, and had been chatting with Riku when the redhead decided to have his latest in a series of anxiety attacks.

“Well,” Rufus spoke up before his older brother could answer, pushing off the wall and walking over to the hunched-over bridegroom, arms still crossed. “Father was not pleased when Reno brought Cera home to meet the family. But he tried to write her off as just another one of my brother's whores, thinking he would tire of her in a week or two.”

Reno's hand clenched into a fist and he glared at Rufus, his jaw set in a tight line. “Don't you talk about her like that,” he demanded, voice shaking with outrage.

“Father's words, not mine,” Rufus clarified, waving off Reno's reaction with one hand. “Anyway... When he announced they were going to be married, well... You can only imagine how furious he was.”

“He threatened to disinherit me on the spot,” Reno supplied, turning to Sora. “He figured I loved the money and the lifestyle more than her. When I told him to go right ahead, he refused to do it because he believed it was what I wanted all along. And, in a way, it is.”

“You see, Reno here has never been much for the family business. However, as the first-born son, it is his duty to take over the company someday. Father knows I would be more than happy to take his place, but he's a right bastard and refuses to skip over my brother in favor of me.”

Reno let out a small chuckle. “No offense, man, but if he put you in charge, you'd probably run that place into the ground faster than I ever would.”

“Pardon?” Rufus asked, blinking in surprise at him.

“You heard me, yo. You have no real people skills. Sure, you're good at the business aspect, but without people you have no business.”

“Well, in all my--”

“Guys!” Sora cut off Rufus, standing up and moving between the two brothers in order to avoid a brawl from breaking out. “Can we get back to the story, please?” He looked at Reno, who nodded, then to Rufus, who sighed and rolled his eyes before resuming his previous position against the wall.

“Anyway,” Reno continued. “I refused to back down, so instead my dad went after Cera. Offered to pay her off if she would just break off the engagement and disappear from my life for good. She knew better, though, and told him that even if she did take the money and leave, I would do everything in my power to find her again.”

“So he finally agreed to it after that?” Sora wondered.

“Oh no,” Riku spoke up, finally joining the conversation, a smile on his face. “There's more.”

“Next I attempted to put in a good word for her with Father,” Rufus continued, acting as though this act had been one of great honor and nobility.

“You only put in a 'good word' after I bribed you,” Reno muttered under his breath, earning him another icy glare from his younger brother.

“As I was saying,” Rufus continued through clenched teeth, then cleared his throat before speaking once more. “I told him that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to let Reno marry a poor girl from Balamb. After all, it might actually look good for the company: Rich heir reaches out a helping hand to the poverty-stricken community that has suffered such a great loss recently due to this... invasion... meets a girl and marries her.”

“Except I thought it sounded a bit too much like I was marrying Cera for the wrong reasons,” Reno snarled. “Like she was just a charity case or something.”

“And so Reno argued with Father about that and we were back at square one, even though I had had him convinced to let him marry her.”

Reno muttered a few choice words under his breath, some of which shocked Sora so much his lower jaw dropped open at the mere thought anyone could ever call their family something like that.

“But then Cera and I came up with a plan of our own which, fortunately, worked out wonderfully.”

“And what's that?” Sora asked curiously.

Reno turned to him and smirked, his blue eyes holding a familiar, mischievous sparkle.

“We told my old man she was knocked up.”

Mind Swap: (2/??)

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 04:41:48 GMT

Title: Mind Swap
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: R
Characters: (Please be advised that due to the nature of this story, all characters are going to be appearing in doubles, with the exceptions of: Rufus, Leena, and Miya.) Reno, Rude, Tseng, Elena, Rufus, Vincent, Yuffie, Cloud, Tifa, Cid, Kerri (OC), Cera (OC), Leena (OC), Miya (OC)
Spoilers: Only for my trilogy and the stories of

firewolfs_fics.
Warnings: Adult language; AU to an AU; Crack-like in substance; Bound to be somewhat confusing
Summary: Two Renos from alternate realities are forced to experience what their lives could have been like after a freak accident causes them to swap bodies... But will they ever be sent back to their proper places?
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the canon. Square-Enix owns all that good stuff, and they've got the big bucks to show for it.
Note: Special thanks goes out to firewolfs_fics for inspiring this idea, and for letting me borrow her versions of the canon characters and her OCs, Kerri and Miya.

Previous Chapters: Prologue | 1

Chapter Two

Reality # 11249 – Midgar Ruins

“Reno, don't!” Elena yelled as he stupidly reached out and touched the brightly glowing pillar in front of him. The instant his hand made contact with the crystal, the look on his face turned from one of wonder and curiosity to a blank, stunned expression.

Unsure what to do – but damn sure she wasn't going to touch that crystal, too – she stood next to him and called his name over and over, her panic level rising when he didn't respond or even make any indication that he could hear her. Saying a silent prayer that she wouldn't end up in whatever sort of trance he was in, she finally reached out and grabbed his shoulder, shaking it roughly in an attempt to jar his attention back toward her.

“--uck?” Reno muttered as his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed to the floor at her feet.

The crystal fell dark once more the moment his hand no longer made any contact with it, and Elena nearly reached out to touch it before before reminding herself that it was probably a very bad idea to do so until they had some sort of idea what the thing was and what it had just done to Reno. Deciding instead to tend to him, she looked him over for any signs of injury before hefting him up into a sitting position and attempting to shake him awake a few times. When that appeared to garner no results, she slapped him hard across the face. Unfortunately, though, it looked as if he was down for the count.

Sighing deeply, she fished around in her pocket with her free hand – her other arm still supporting him in a slightly upright position – and pulled out her phone. Sighing again, she dialed headquarters, not looking forward to telling Tseng about the latest developments in their search.

Reality # 11249 – Edge Memorial Hospital

Reno groaned as he cracked open his eyes slightly, closing them immediately against the harsh fluorescent light that assaulted them. He raised his arm and covered his eyes with it to further block out the offending glare, and wondered what exactly had just happened to him. The last thing he remembered, he had been waiting for Rude to join him in that lab with the weird crystal...

The crystal. It had been glowing a bright blue. Before he'd had a chance to try to figure out what the hell was going on, though, he'd passed out. Apparently, that was why he now was lying in what he assumed to be a hospital bed.

“Ah, you're awake.”

The voice was masculine, generating from the bottom of his bed, and somehow oddly familiar.

“What the hell happened, yo?” Reno asked, not bothering to look at the person he was speaking to. If they wanted him to look at them, they could do him a favor and shut off the damn lights above his bed.

“That's what we're still trying to figure out,” the voice replied, and Reno conjured up an image in his mind to go along with it: A man with blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a white suit. A man who was very much dead. Chancing permanent blindness, Reno opened his eyes and lifted his arm just enough to peek under it while still shading himself from the glare.

“Holy fucking shit,” he exclaimed, leaping up from his bed and pressing his back against the wall in an attempt to keep himself as far away from his visitor as possible. He raised his hand, pointing a slightly trembling finger at the visage of Rufus Shinra that stood before him with a perplexed expression on his face.

“Is there a problem, Reno?” he asked, raising a pale eyebrow in question.

“You!” Reno replied, shaking his finger at the other man. “You're dead! Which means...” He turned away slightly from Rufus, his brow scrunching up in thought. “Fuck... I must be dead, too.”

Rufus laughed, and Reno looked up to find the younger man shaking his head the way one would when listening to a child tell them about some extravagant fantasy world they had concocted.

“Reno, I assure you – you and I are both very much alive.”

“No,” Reno insisted, shaking his head own head. “No, man... I fucking saw you, yo. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood, eyes glazed over, with a fucking sword sticking out of your back.”

“Sounds like Reno is finally awake,” Tseng commented as he entered the room, standing next to Rufus at the foot of the bed. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

“He seems to have experienced some sort of hallucination,” Rufus remarked, turning to Tseng. “He keeps insisting that I am dead.”

Tseng seemed to consider Rufus' words for a moment before speaking. “Elena was certain he didn't hit his head when he collapsed. Some sort of seizure, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Rufus agreed. “I suppose we won't know any more until the proper tests have been conducted, however.”

Reno watched the two men talking, eyes widening in disbelief as his lower jaw dropped in shock. After a moment, he regained his senses and was surprised to find himself actually able to speak.

“Tseng! You can see him?”

Tseng looked from Reno to Rufus, then back again as a small chuckle rose from his chest. “Of course I can, Reno.”

“Something is seriously fucked up here, yo,” Reno muttered as he sat down in a daze on the edge of his hospital bed.

Tseng opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as a woman with long, brown hair wearing jeans and a plain, white t-shirt suddenly burst through the open door, looking around a bit frantically. Her blue eyes fell on Reno, and he saw her visibly relax as a relieved sigh escaped her lips and she began to approach him.

“I came as soon as I could,” she stated, and he was unsure if she was talking to him or the other two men in the room. She reached up with one hand and ran her fingers back through his hair as she perched on the bed next to him, and Reno flinched at the unfamiliar touch, looking her over carefully. She was pretty, in a plain sort of way, and reminded him vaguely of someone... though he wasn't sure exactly who that someone was.

“He appears to be confused by some sort of hallucination he experienced while he was unconscious,” Rufus informed her with a chuckle. “He believes I am dead.”

“You are dead,” Reno insisted. “D-E-A-D, dead! People don't just... get up after having a sword run through them.”

“It's okay,” the woman told him in a soothing voice, taking his hand and caressing the back of it with her thumb. “It was just a dream. We'll let the healers take a look at you, and you'll be back to being a horny jerk in no time.”

The familiarity with which she spoke to him – and the teasing note of affection in her voice when she called him a 'horny jerk' – made Reno do a mental double-take. From her manner of speech and physical actions, he guessed that she believed them to have some sort of close, intimate relationship. Frowning slightly, he yanked his hand out of her grip and wasn't the least bit fazed by the hurt expression that instantly crossed her features. He glanced down at his hand and realized, for the first time, that something was missing.

“Where the hell is my ring, yo?” he demanded, turning angry eyes from one face to the next.

“What ring?” Tseng asked calmly.

“My wedding ring,” Reno clarified.

“Reno, we're not married,” the girl sitting next to him said, eying him cautiously like one would some sort of homicidal maniac that's about to snap.

“I know we're not married,” he replied, gesturing back and forth between them with one hand. “I'm married to Cera, yo.”

“Cera?” Rufus wondered, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Tseng. “Do you know anyone by that name, Tseng?”

“No, Sir,” the other man answered, prompting the president to sigh heavily.

“It seems as though he is worse off than I had originally thought,” he remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now he believes he is married to some imaginary woman.”

“She's not imaginary! She's as real as you are dead, yo!”

“Perhaps we should have a psychological evaluation conducted in addition to the other tests?” Tseng suggested, ignoring Reno's outburst. Reno let out a loud, frustrated growl and flopped back onto his bed, once more covering his eyes with his arm to block out the brightness of the lights above him.

“That would be wise, I think,” Rufus agreed. “Come, Kerri. We should leave him to rest, now.”

“Kerri?” Reno echoed, peeking at the woman seated on the bed next to him. Her hair was a bit longer, and it was hard to recognize her with it pulled back and without any makeup on, but now that Rufus had said her name it finally clicked.

“Fuck!” he yelled, jumping up in surprise. He slipped off the side of the bed and landed on the floor, wincing as his ass smacked down on the cold, hard tiles. Kerri instantly stood and bent down, holding a hand out to him as she asked if he was alright, and he scrambled backwards until he was pressed against the wall, covering his crotch with one hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Reno?” she asked him angrily, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. “I'm just trying to help you up, and you're acting like I'm going to kick you in the nuts or something.”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Reno replied sarcastically. “Maybe because you said the next time I came near you, you'd fucking rip my sac off, yo.”

Kerri rolled her eyes at him, holding out her hand again. “Don't you think that if I really wanted to, I would have done that by now?”

Reno considered her question a moment, then nodded slightly and warily reached out to take her hand. Kerri gave it a tug, helping him pull himself back to his feet as Rufus laughed quietly behind them and made his way to the door with Tseng in his wake.

“We shall see you back at headquarters, Kerri,” Tseng told her before following the president out, giving the two of them some privacy.

“Don't pay any mind to them,” she said as Reno watched the two men leaving. “I'm sure that after another day or two, you'll be back to your old self. Just rest and focus on getting better, okay?”

Reno didn't have time to reply. Before he could open his mouth, she had placed her lips on his in a firm kiss, her tongue deftly making it way into his mouth. He made no move to return the gesture, and after a moment she pulled back, looking at him with wide eyes. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no sound came out. Then, without warning, she turned and ran from the room, rushing down the hall to catch the president as he boarded the elevator.

“What is it, Kerri?” Rufus asked her as she threw herself between the sliding doors and pushed them open, panting slightly.

“That's not Reno,” she replied.

Reality #07412 – Shinra Memorial Hospital, Edge

Reno groaned and swore under his breath as he sat up slightly, opening his eyes. It took a moment for his sight to adjust to the bright, harsh lighting of the room he was in, which he guessed was a hospital room judging by both the atmosphere and the ridiculous gown he was wearing. He heard voices coming from outside the room and turned to look out the window, finding it covered by a curtain. Luckily, the curtain was made of a flimsy material that allowed him to see the outlines of the people who were speaking.

“I still don't understand what happened, Rude,” said a stern voice that Reno immediately recognized as Tseng's. “You two were supposed to stick together.”

“Supposed to,” Rude repeated. “Reno insisted on splitting up in order to cover more ground, Sir.”

Reno made a confused noise, his entire face scrunching up in thought. Why was Rude talking like they had been off on some sort of mission together? He'd been partnered up with Elena to search those labs under the Midgar ruins.

“It's my fault, Tseng,” said a woman. “I got on his case about not being home until late the past few nights.”

Reno had strained his ears as he listened to her speak, attempting to identify who she was. It wasn't Elena and, while she had made a comment about him not being home, he was sure she wasn't Kerri, either. Who else would give a crap what time he got home, though?

“It's quite alright,” Tseng assured them with a heavy sigh. “At least he is not seriously injured.”

Reno ran his hand back through his hair and recoiled slightly when he noticed a gold band wrapped around his left ring finger. He slipped the ring off and examined it, slowly turning it around in his fingers. It was obviously some sort of wedding ring, but he and Kerri had never married.

He had been concentrating so hard on the unfamiliar piece of jewelry that he hadn't noticed the small figure that appeared in the doorway of his room. An excited squeal reached his ears, pulling his attention in the direction of the door, but all he saw was a blur of red hair in pigtails as the figure propelled itself toward him at an unbelievable speed.

“Daddy's awake!” the little girl cried happily, rushing over and grabbing one of his hands even as the others – who had known something was up the instant the child had made a sound – started to file into the room.

Reno looked at each of them as they entered: Tseng – who was dressed in a professional-looking, three-piece suit for some reason, Rude, and a woman he had never seen before in his life. He was sure he would have remembered someone who looked like that. She had long, dark hair that contrasted well with her fair skin, soft brown eyes, and a body with so many curves he would've given just about anything to nail her – before he'd met Kerri, of course. He turned his attention to his daughter, who was laughing merrily as she clung to his hand, and gaped. This wasn't his daughter. Sure, she had the same red hair as him, but her facial structure wasn't the same and her eyes were the wrong color, entirely.

The little girl gasped when Reno's eyes met hers, and she instantly released his hand before running across the room to hide behind the woman who had entered with Tseng and Rude. The woman reached down and stroked the girl's hair, looking from Reno to the girl with a puzzled expression on her face. Judging by her actions, Reno assumed her to be the child's mother.

“What's wrong, sweetie?” she asked the little girl, her voice soft and comforting.

“That's not Daddy!” the child exclaimed, pointing a finger at him as she continued clinging to her mother's side.

“Don't be silly, Leena,” the woman gently scolded her daughter with a small laugh. Reno's eyes went wide. Had she just called the girl Leena?

Reno turned his attention back to the child, who was now shaking her head in disagreement and trying to hide even farther behind her mother. She was probably the same age as Miya, maybe a little older. And she had his mother's name. He supposed it could just be a coincidence, but Leena wasn't exactly a very common name.

“Reno, are you alright?” the woman asked him, moving closer to the bed. Leena hung back, going to Rude and holding up her arms in a silent plea for him to pick her up. Rude didn't hesitate, and Reno's eyes went even wider at the sight of his partner holding the strange child as through it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Where's Kerri, yo?” he asked them, earning himself three confused looks.

“Who?” the woman questioned, shaking her head.

“Kerri,” Reno repeated sharply. “My girlfriend.”

“You don't have a girlfriend, Reno,” the woman corrected him, taking the wedding ring from his hand and slipping it back onto his finger before giving his hand a squeeze. Reno blinked as he noticed a matching band on her own left ring finger.

“You have me,” she told him, reaching up with her other hand to brush some of his hair back from his face, and it took all of Reno's willpower not to pull back from the touch.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked her, not even bothering to conceal the frustration and annoyance in his voice. The woman blinked at him, then turned to look at Rude and Tseng, who were both wearing similar, perplexed expressions.

“I'm your wife,” the woman informed him once she had turned back to him, “Cera.”

Reno sat quietly for a moment, not even so much as blinking as he processed all of the information. Cera, the dark-haired woman standing next to his bed, claimed to be his wife. Leena, therefore, must supposedly be their daughter – although it seemed the girl was reluctant to go along with the ruse. Rude and Tseng were his only co-workers presently accounted for. Perhaps after Elena had told the president about how he so recklessly touched that stupid, glowing crystal – not to mention the way he'd blown off the door of the lab – they had all concocted some sort of elaborate prank meant to scare the shit out of him and convince him not to be so brash on future missions. Like that would ever happen.

“You can tell Rufus this ain't gonna work, yo,” he drawled in his usual, cocky tone. “Nice try.”

Tseng and Rude both stood up a bit straighter at the mention of Rufus' name, exchanging a look with one another before turning to Reno.

“Rufus is dead,” Rude told him flatly. “Don't you remember?”

“Oh yeah?” Reno threw back. “Then who's the president?”

“I am,” Tseng replied. “And you are now head of the Turks.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on, guys... I gotcha. You can stop playing your little game of Fuck With Reno's Mind, now.”

Tseng and Rude turned to each other again, even more confused by his latest outburst. Cera continued to watch him carefully, however, her head tilted slightly to one side. After thinking for a minute, she went to Rude and took Leena from him, kissing her forehead as she carried the girl over to Reno. Leena turned away from him, trying desperately to hide against her mother's shoulder as she made little, whimpering noises of protest.

“Baby, I need you to look at Daddy,” Cera requested, speaking softly.

“That's not Daddy!” Leena proclaimed once more, her voice muffled.

“Look at the man, sweetie?” she rephrased the question, kissing the girl's head again. “Please?”

Leena hesitantly turned her face toward Reno, her brown eyes meeting his and blinking rapidly. One of her hands tangled in her mother's dark hair, her fingers curled into a tiny fist, while she held the other up to her mouth and nervously pulled at her bottom lip.

“What makes you say this isn't Daddy?” Cera asked her, and she continued staring at Reno a moment before turning to look at her mother.

“He's different,” she stated, almost so quietly he couldn't hear her.

“He looks the same to me,” her mother whispered back.

“No,” Leena said, shaking her head, sending her pigtails flying across her face. “He's different inside.”

Leena poked Cera's chest with one finger to accentuate her point, and she looked down at her daughter's hand for a moment before turning her brown eyes to the identical ones of her little girl.

“Reno?” Cera addressed him, turning to look at him. “What do you remember about what happened to you before you woke up here?”

Reno blinked a couple of times, surprised by the question. “I... was at the hidden research facility under the Midgar ruins, with Elena.”

“Elena is--”

“Tseng, please,” Cera cut him off. “Let Reno finish.” The dark-haired man nodded in polite apology, gesturing with his hand for Reno to continue speaking.

“We found some weird computer terminal, which was hooked up to an even weirder crystal... thing. Suddenly, the crystal started glowing, and I went over to check it out.”

“What happened when you touched it?” she asked expectantly.

“I didn't say that I did touch it, yo,” he responded, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

“I assumed that you did,” came her reply.

“Well...” Reno said thoughtfully. “The light got brighter, and I felt like I was floating. And,” he added, shaking his head and laughing a bit, “you're gonna think I'm fucking insane, but I swear I saw myself floating around in the light.”

“Son of a bitch,” Cera whispered as a look of realization crossed her face. She kissed her daughter's forehead a final time, then set her down. The moment her feet hit the floor, Leena ran back over to where Rude and Tseng were standing just inside the door, her mother following closely behind.

“Stay here with Uncle Rude and Uncle Tseng, sweetie,” she told Leena as she stepped past the two men, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Tseng asked, turning to watch her walk by.

“I have something in my office that I think will help explain what's wrong with Reno,” she explained, pausing in the doorway to address him. “I will return as soon as I can.”

Tseng nodded, silently telling her to proceed, and Cera disappeared out into the hallway. Reno watched her silhouette walk past the window, headed in the direction of the elevator, then turned his attention back to the three remaining people in the room. The kid aside, Rude and Tseng both seemed to be the same – with the exception of Tseng's change in wardrobe. He wondered if maybe this was all some freaky dream, and maybe he was still passed out on the floor in that lab with Elena.

Somehow, he seriously doubted his luck would be that good.

FFVII: Mind Swap (Chapter 1/??)

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 02:48:46 GMT

firewolfs_fics .
Warnings: Adult language; AU to an AU; Crack-like in substance; Bound to be somewhat confusing
Summary: Two Renos from alternate realities are forced to experience what their lives could have been like after a freak accident causes them to swap bodies... But will they ever be sent back to their proper places?
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the canon. Square-Enix owns all that good stuff, and they've got the big bucks to show for it.
Note: Special thanks goes out to firewolfs_fics for inspiring this idea, and for letting me borrow her versions of the canon characters and her OCs, Kerri and Miya. This one's for you!

Previous Chapters: Prologue

Chapter One

Reality #07412 – Midgar Ruins

Reno whistled a bit to himself as he made his way through yet another secret laboratory buried under what little was left of Midgar. Ever since Tseng had discovered the letters Rufus had been sitting on that suggested unethical and illegal research had been conducted in these old labs, he and Rude had ended up spending their days searching for evidence that such experiments may have been carried out successfully. It bored him to tears, almost as much as sitting at his desk doing paperwork. They had only searched nine out of the twenty-three labs detailed in the letters, and so far they hadn't turned up a damn thing.

Of course, the last time he and Rude had been sent to check out some lab, they had found Cera. The memory brought a small smile to his face as he walked out of the room he was in and crossed the hall to another closed door. He sincerely doubted they were going to find anything that substantial again, but part of him hoped they at least turned up something. He knew Tseng was a man who liked results, and that if they returned empty-handed, he would just insist they go back and check again. Maybe he was just paranoid after what happened to Rufus, or unable to handle the pressure of filling the president's shoes. Thankfully, though, he hadn't yet begun to take things out on his subordinates. Which was a blessing to Reno, who was still growing accustomed to his own new position as head of the Turks.

After thoroughly searching the tenth laboratory of the underground complex, Reno discovered the door of the next lab to be locked. He frowned a bit, brow furrowing as he wondered why this room was different from all the others – and hoping it would hold some sort of evidence that he could present to Tseng when he made his report upon their return to headquarters. He checked the composition of the door, searching for any sort of electronic lock that might contain a self-destruct mechanism that would detonate if breeched. Finding none, he pulled his gun from its holster and took careful aim, destroying the lock on the door with three bullets before pushing the door inward and stepping into the room.

For the most part, this lab was just like all the others – dusty, dark, and mostly empty. There was one significant difference, however: Along the far wall stood some sort of computer terminal and next to it, a pillar that appeared to be made out of some type of crystal. At first, Reno thought maybe this might have once been the room where the SOLDIER hopefuls were exposed to mako, then realized the crystal the pillar was constructed out of was too opaque to be made from pure mako. Whatever the source of the crystal, it was apparently used as part of the machinery, as several cords ran from within it to the terminal it sat next to on the floor.

He didn't really understand much about science, but he had a fair understanding of computers. It was part of his job to know them, after all, so that he could easily disable security systems. This particular computer, however, wasn't like any other he'd seen before. The labels on the buttons appeared to be written in some sort of code, almost like the person who built the damn thing didn't want anyone to ever figure out how to work it. Figuring it couldn't hurt to just see what would happen, he flipped a couple of switches and pressed a few buttons on the terminal.

Nothing. No bells, no whistles, no explosions. Overall, it was a major disappointment, but hopefully the mere existence of the strange machine would be enough to placate Tseng's curiosity about the place so that he and Rude wouldn't have to keep coming down here to search all the labs halfway into the night. Not that he minded the overtime, but he missed being able to sit at the dinner table and listen to his daughter tell him about her day while his wife fed their baby boy.

Sighing to himself, he curled his hand into a fist and punched a couple of more buttons with the side of his hand before leaning back against the crystal pillar and digging his phone out of his pocket to call Rude – who was currently exploring the other end of the complex.

“Rude here,” his partner's deep voice came over the line after the second ring.

“Hey, man... Get your ass over here. I think I found something, yo,” Reno ordered in a serious voice, impatiently fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

“Where, exactly, is here, Reno?” Rude asked in a slightly annoyed tone. He knew Reno was only being overly authoritative as a joke, but he had grown tired of the kidding after the first week following his partner's promotion.

“Uh...” Reno trailed off, trying to remember the number posted outside the door of the lab he was currently in, not even noticing the pillar he was leaning against had started to glow faintly. “Oh yeah! S19. And hurry up, yo.”

“It's going to take me a while to get there, Sir,” Rude replied, putting deliberate emphasis on the title to give the incorrigible redhead an indicator of just how thin the ice he was treading on was.

“Yeah, yeah,” Reno drawled, looking at his fingernails of his right hand in a bored manner, still oblivious to the glowing of the crystal pillar, which was growing steadily brighter.

“Don't be so uptight, man. I'm ju... playin' wi... ...ou.”

“Reno?” Rude yelled into his phone as his partner's voice became choppy and full of static. “Reno? Hello?”

“Rude?” Reno yelled into his own phone, frowning when the only response he received was the sound of static buzzing in his ear. Swearing under his breath, he turned off his phone and shoved it back into the pocket of his jacket, then turned his head slightly to look at the pillar behind him, which he had just noticed was glowing a bright, electric shade of blue.

“What the f---”

His question was cut off as the crystal suddenly surged, sending a wave of some sort of energy through his body. Reno gasped at the sensation, which made him feel as if he was floating through the air, away from his own body. His head began spinning as he found himself surrounded completely by the brilliant blue color of the crystal, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a mirror image of himself flying by at an alarming speed, wearing an identical expression of confusion and fear.

Reality # 11249 – Midgar Ruins

“Come on, Lei Lei,” Reno begged, reaching over to playfully punch the arm of the woman standing next to him. “What are you so uptight about? Nothing bad happened, yo.”

“It still could have, Reno,” Elena replied, turning angry hazel eyes in his direction. “You had no idea how that door was rigged. You could have gotten us killed, shooting off the lock like that!”

“But I didn't,” Reno pointed out, holding up one finger to accentuate his point.

“That is besides the point,” she stated angrily, turning back to the computer terminal and punching a few buttons with her fist, imagining they were the face of the man standing next to her.

“Geez,” Reno said with a teasing smile. “You and Tseng really need to stop wasting time and start fucking, yo.”

The redhead ducked under the punch she sent his way, snickering as he hid behind the weird crystal pillar standing next to the computer terminal they'd found. Rufus had sent them to check the labs of this underground research complex after discovering that it not only existed, but that there may have been experiments performed there that quite possibly could have Hojo look like a saint. At first, it had seemed like they were going to come up empty-handed, but then they had discovered a lab that had been locked – the only one that had been locked. Reno had wasted no time it shooting the lock off the door so they could check it out, which was the reason Elena was now pissed at him.

“For your information – not that it's any of your damn business – Tseng and I are sleeping together,” Elena told him, a self-satisfied smirk crossing her lips when her companion's eyes widened considerably in surprise. Her smile fell a second later when she realized the mistake she had made, and she watched in horror as Reno approached her once more, the smirk she had been wearing reappeared on his face. She and Tseng had been keeping their personal relationship as quiet as possible around the office, but now that he knew there would be no way to keep the entire company from finding out.

“So,” he remarked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning closer to her lowering his voice even though they were the only ones there. “You two do it in his office yet?”

Elena raised her hand as if to punch him, then kicked him sharply in the shin when he ducked again, covering his head with his arms as he laughed at her. She grinned triumphantly as he let out a howl of pain, bending down to rub his leg.

“You know,” she chirped happily as she returned to examining the terminal before her, “just because you and Kerri can't control your hormones at work, it doesn't mean everyone else can't either.”

Reno smiled wickedly as he stood back up to his full height. “I'll take that as a yes, then.”

Elena turned to him with an exasperated sigh, drawing her hand back to punch him, but froze when she noticed the crystal behind him beginning to glow faintly. Reno, who had already taken cover from the oncoming blow, waited a moment before peeking out from under his arms at her.

“Lei Lei?” he called her name when he noticed her standing there, frozen in place with her fist in the air and a curious expression on her face. Following her line of vision, he turned his head and looked at the large crystal pillar, blinking in surprise at the way it was now growing a bright blue color.

Head tilted slightly in wonder, Reno stood up and took a few steps closer to the pillar, noticing that it had begun to pulse slightly as he drew nearer to it. Letting his own curiosity get the better of him, he reached out and place a hand against the smooth surface of the crystal.

He was vaguely aware of Elena yelling his name as his hand made contact with the bright blue surface, which glowed even brighter under his touch. The next thing he knew, he felt the strangest sensation of floating – almost like he was being pulled out of his own body. The glowing of the crystal increased until it was almost like he was inside of it, and then he saw an image that looked very much like himself floating by before falling into complete darkness.

Mind Swap: Prologue

Fri, 16 Mar 2007 20:47:54 GMT

Okay... now that

firewolfs_fics and I have resolved our misunderstanding are are back to being buddies again, my muses are clawing angrily at my brain for placing them in that dark closet in the back of my mind. So, as an apology to them, I give you the prologue of my very own "cross-Reno crackfic," appropriately titled, Mind Swap. Basically, if you can't figure out what's going to happen just from reading the summary alone... I pity you, lol.

Title: Mind Swap
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: R
Characters: (Please be advised that due to the nature of this story, all characters are going to be appearing in doubles, with the exceptions of: Rufus, Leena, and Miya.) Reno, Rude, Tseng, Elena, Rufus, Vincent, Yuffie, Cloud, Tifa, Cid, Kerri (OC), Cera (OC), Leena (OC), Miya (OC)
Spoilers: Only for my trilogy and the stories of firewolfs_fics.
Warnings: Adult language; AU to an AU; Crack-like in substance; Bound to be somewhat confusing
Summary: Two Renos from alternate realities are forced to experience what their lives could have been like after a freak accident causes them to swap bodies... But will they ever be sent back to their proper places?
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the canon. Square-Enix owns all that good stuff, and they've got the big bucks to show for it.
Note: Special thanks goes out to firewolfs_fics for inspiring this idea, and for letting me borrow her versions of the canon characters and her OCs, Kerri and Miya. This one's for you! (And undelete your fic journal so people can read your "canon," lol)

My entire life, I have believed in the concept of alternate realities – parallel universes, if you will – where things and people are identical and yet different at the same time. Imagine it... A complete world, exactly like ours in its structure, timeline, and inhabitants... yet different in many more subtle ways. You would exist in each of these alternate realities, but the circumstances of your current life might be drastically different, or your personality might be slightly changed.

I have often wanted to traverse these alternate realities and see how my life might have been if something had been altered in one of them. Maybe I would be married and have a family of my own in one, or perhaps never have become a scientist in another. It would be thrilling to see all the different ways my life could have gone with the slightest change in my own, personal evolution, as well as an invaluable experience in self-learning.

This is why I have set forth to develop a mechanism capable of allowing one to travel to alternate realities. With this device, others will be able to achieve what I have so longed to do. It will allow anyone with the desire to visit one of their own alternate selves to do so. Imagine the refreshing views of life we will all have! Truly, we will all become better people from the experience.

I proposed my idea to President Shinra, and he merely laughed at me and said it was not possible to travel to alternate realities, and that, furthermore, alternate realities didn't even exist. But I shall persevere, continuing my research and experimentation until the day I can finally prove to him – and to the rest of the world – that my theories are truth.

I will not rest until my mission is complete.

-Dr. Otto Quazlaan
November 17, 1989

Death Note: Enigma (2/??)

Sun, 11 Mar 2007 05:47:05 GMT

Heh.... Finally got around to posting this here.

Title: Enigma
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: L, Watari, Mia Harper (OC)
Warnings: Some sensitive subject matter.
Spoilers: Since this is a prequel to the actual manga series, the only real spoilers involved are the few details that are diclosed in the course of the manga about L's life prior to the start of the manga. Any other spoilers will be posted later as warning about them becomes relevant.
Summary: It is the events in our lives which often shape who we later become, and therefore determine our destiny.
Disclaimer: L and the world of Death Note are not mine. I am merely borrowing them for the sake of placating my muses.

Previous Chapters: 1

Chapter Two

Mia swore under her breath as she ran toward the tennis stadium, her ponytail flapping about behind her and her shoulder bag flopping against her hip. Her parents had warned her about the London cabbies and their propensity for taking the longest, most meandering route possible – especially when their fare was a tourist – but she had figured they were just exaggerating. Now, she was wishing she had put on a fake British accent just so she wouldn't have had to spend the last twenty minutes riding aimlessly around the downtown area.

Her fare had ended up being almost twice as much as she had planned to pay, and she was probably going to end up having to walk back, but that wasn't her biggest concern at the moment. Her palms were sweaty and her heart was racing, not so much from rushing into the stadium as from her nervousness over seeing L again. She had tried to figure out exactly what she was going to say to him during the cab ride, but everything she came up with either sounded too phony or contrived.

She stopped at the ticket box office just outside the stadium entrance, showing the seller her student ID in order to receive the discounted admission price, and paid for her ticket before entering the stadium proper. She could hear applause echoing toward her from the stands above, and wondered who was winning the current game. She had no real knowledge of the sport, and had spent a couple of hours the night before giving herself a crash course in the finer points of the game, such as scoring.

“Thirty - love,” announced the voice of a stuffy older man over the stadium's PA system. Mia searched her brain for what that meant, and after a moment recalled that in tennis, love is zero and a score of thirty meant the other player had two points. So whoever was currently serving was winning by a margin of two. At least... that's what she thought that meant.

Mia emerged at the top of the stadium's tiered seating and stood on her tiptoes, straining to see the court as much as looking for a place to sit. The players were already hitting the ball back and forth, so it was hard to tell who had served and therefore who was leading. Frowning slightly, she looked around for some sort of standing board with the current score, but found none. Knowing it might be a while before one of the players missed and she found out the score, she tapped a person seated nearby on the shoulder to ask.

The woman turned at looked at Mia almost distastefully, wrinkling her nose as the sight of her, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black tank top. Mia suddenly became very aware that – appearance-wise – she didn't fit in with the crowd at all. Of course, the fact that she stuck out like a sore thumb was bound to get L to notice her, but she still wasn't sure she wanted to be making that sort of impression.

“Um... Excuse me, ma'am,” she addressed the woman, her voice breaking slightly. She cleared her throat before continuing. “I was wondering if you could tell me who's winning the game so far?”

“The score is thirty – love, in favor of Lawliet,” the woman replied before haughtily turning her attention back to the court below.

Mia muttered a thank you and slowly made her way farther up the stairs toward the lower part of the seating area, hoping for a closer view of L's game. She craned her neck, standing on her tiptoes and cursing her lack of better genetics, wishing for even just two more inches to her height so she could see what was going on over the hat-covered heads in the first few rows. Straining her feet to the point where she could have nearly been dancing ballet, she finally spotted an empty chair in the third row back, almost near center court. In her excitement at spotting a seat, she toppled over and fell on the stairs, letting out a loud yelp as she brought up her hands to break her fall before she smacked her face against one of the concrete steps. Several of the spectators turned to look at her and she quickly averted her eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks as she wondered if the sounds of her fall ad carried onto the court. She really didn't know which would be worse: if L had heard her fall, or if hearing her fall might be enough to break his concentration and cause him to lose the point.

Mia hastily pulled herself to her feet and brushed the dirt off her clothes before moving as casually as she could up the rest of the stairs and toward the third row. The seat she had spotted was the fourth one in, and she wasn't going to be able to take it without making some sort of a scene. She decided to wait until the point was awarded and quickly make her way to the empty seat before the next serve. Standing in the aisle at the end of the row, she had a clear view of the court, and of the players.

It wasn't hard for her to tell which one of them was L. The other young man had ginger-colored hair, instantly ruling him out. Mia watched in amazement as L moved easily to return the ball each time to his opponent, the power behind his strikes almost surprising in comparison to his slight frame. She honestly didn't remember him being so thin when he was younger, of course she reasoned that his own growth spurts might have caused him to thin out rather than fill out. She bit her lip nervously as she continued watching him, gasping softly when he nearly missed the ball, and sighing with relief when he managed to hit it into his opponent's side of the court, just out of his reach.

“Forty – love,” announced the stuffy voice. “Game point.”

Mia quietly excused herself as she squeezed past the three spectators sitting between her and her seat, not noticing that L was watching her from the court.

“Forty – love, game point.”

L idly bounced the tennis ball at his feet, silently cursing himself. How had he so foolishly miscalculated that hit? It had almost cost him the point, but he had managed to think and act quick enough to correct his own error and score. It seemed that even though he had spent hours studying George Hendsley's playing technique, he still did not have a 100 percent comprehension of it. Instead, it appeared that he was only able to predict his opponent's moves 95 percent of the time. A challenge, certainly, but he was never one to pass up any sort of challenge.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head slightly to peer through his dark hair at the source of the disruption. Among the usual, upper-class attendees of his previous tennis matches, he spotted a teenage girl who was obviously out of place. She was probably close to his own age, wearing a pair of dark jeans that he thought were a bit too tight on her slim figure, and a dark tank top that showed entirely too much skin for such an event. He shook his head slightly, smirking inwardly at the foreigner – he was 99.6 percent sure she wasn't a local because she would have known the customary attire to wear to the match if she was – and began his serve as she finally settled in her seat and turned her attention fully toward the court.

Eyes going wide, he fumbled his serve and the ball nicked the net, barely crossing over into the other side of the court.. The crowd gasped in surprise as he was given a second chance to complete the serve, and L paced along his side of the court, observing the girl in the stands through his messy hair as he attempted to appear as though he was merely coming up with his game strategy.

Her hair was a bit darker than he recalled, and it was hard to judge the color of her eyes from the distance, but something about the shape of her face struck a familiar chord within him. The slope of her nose and the fullness of her cheeks recalled the memory of a girl he once knew when he was living at the orphanage in Boston. There was a chance that it might not be her, but he was 97.8 percent sure that this young woman was the same girl he had once known.

L successfully completed his reserve, and easily took the final point to win the first game of the set, the stadium erupting in applause. He glanced at the girl to find her clapping even more fervently than those seated around her, her mouth upturned in a proud smile. He made a point of walking on the side of the court closest to the stands as he changed sides of the court for the next game, and chanced a look up at her in order to see if he could better judge the color of her eyes. His mouth fell open slightly as her sea-green gaze met his and her smile took on a faint air of recognition before she looked away, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

The rest of the match went by mostly as he had expected. His opponent managed to get the better of him on a few occasions – mostly when his mind was wandering to the girl in the stands and the likelihood that she was, in fact, that same girl from the orphanage – but he still came out victorious in the end. As was customary, he shook his opponent's hand and received his trophy, posing for photographs and replying to reporters' questions about how it felt to be the junior national champion. L politely humored the media representatives, even though he felt uncomfortable being in the spotlight. He loved the game, but sincerely disliked being in the public eye. He supposed that was just the price he had to pay for playing, but still wished he could somehow retain his anonymity.

He felt a presence next to him and looked to his right to see Watari standing at his side, patiently waiting for him to conclude his talk with the reporters so that they could return to Whammy House. L knew that Near and Mello would both be excited once they saw the size of his trophy, and they would want details on the entire match, but he had other things to attend to before he could return home.

Handing his trophy to Watari, L thanked the reporters and excused himself, pushing his way through the wall of journalists and photographers and making his way to the stands. Most of the crowd had already dissipated, but those in the seats closer to the court had been forced to wait until the spectators closest to the exits were clear before they could leave. This was most fortunate for him, because he knew the girl he had spotted during his match was seated relatively close to the court. He only hoped he had been quick enough with the reporters so that she might still be in the stadium, or else he might never make contact with her. Fortunately, he spied her as he approached the stands. She had her back to him and was just starting to leave the stadium when he reached the barricade between the court and the spectators.

“Excuse me?” L called out, not wanting to say her name and make a fool of himself if it wasn't her. She didn't respond, however, and so he decided to risk his own embarrassment by possibly being mistaken.

“Mia!” he nearly yelled, and the girl stopped in her tracks. She simply stood there a moment, then slowly turned and looked over her shoulder in his direction. Now that he was finally close enough to get a good look at her eyes, he was positive of her identity, and a small smile formed across his lips. “Please, don't go anywhere. I'll be right there.”

He quickly made his way to the locker rooms and sprinted through them and toward the main entrance of the stadium's seating area, making sure to select the stairs closest to where she had been sitting. It was awkward for him to be moving so fast – and several people gave him curious looks as he brushed by them, muttering his apologies – but seeing her again was almost like finding a long-lost family member. She had been the only other child who even dared to talk to him at St. Anne's. When he left, they had managed to keep in touch for over a year before her letters started to lessen in their frequency before finally stopping altogether. If nothing else, he needed to know why she had stopped writing to him – if it had been something he had said in one of his own letters, or if she had simply tired of him. It was the sort of question he most disliked: an unanswered one.

After pushing his way through the last of the spectators who were leaving the stands, he finally emerged outside once more and found her sitting in a chair along the aisle, waiting for him. She stood as he approached, tucking a few strands of dark blonde hair that had come loose from her ponytail back behind her ear, and gave him an awkward smile as he stood before her, taking in her appearance. She was taller than she had been, but still small in stature and size, and she had filled out in all the appropriate places. Her hair was certainly a lot darker than in his memories, but her eyes were still that same unusual grey-green color he had been so fond of. She was dressed casually, which was how he had spotted her so easily in the crowd, and appeared to be wearing very little – if any – makeup.

“Um... L?” she said after a moment, shifting about a bit uncomfortably as she stood there before him. L blinked several times and, realizing he had been staring, bowed his head slightly in shame.

“I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Mia,” he told her as he looked up into her eyes once more. “I was simply observing all of the changes you have gone through since we last saw one another.”

“Oh, that's okay,” she replied, tucking the loose hair behind her ear once more. L suddenly realized it was a nervous habit, and found himself smiling once more.

“It certainly has been a long time.”

“Yeah, it has,” she agreed. She appeared to want to say something else, but stopped herself for some reason. L tilted his head slightly as he watched her, wondering if she would gain the courage to say whatever was on her mind or if he would have to ask her himself.

“Why did you stop writing?” she suddenly blurted out, causing him to blink in surprise as her question. It was now his turn to stand there, speechlessly debating whether or not to ask what was on his own mind.

“Why did you stop writing?” he echoed after a brief period of thought.

“Your letters stopped coming after we moved to Arizona,” she explained to him, tucking her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and shrugging her slender shoulders. “I guess I just assumed you didn't want to hear from me any more.”

“Well,” L said as he took another step closer to her, “I suppose it doesn't matter now. We are both here, and fortunately we both remember one another. So why don't we let the past be the past and focus instead on reacquainting ourselves with one another in the present?”

Mia smiled, nodding her head, and L felt an odd sort of tightening in his chest. He raised his hand to the sport, momentarily alarmed by the sensation, then realized it was not anything adverse to his health and let his hand fall back to his side. He looked at her and found her gazing at him with a concerned expression on his face, and quickly assured her that he was fine.

“Are you sure?” she asked. He nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

“As touched as I am by your concern, Mia,” he told her, “I can assure you that I am, without a doubt, in perfect health. Now, could I possibly entice you to join me for dinner so that we might be able to further reacquaint ourselves with one another?”

Mia nodded in agreement, then frowned slightly and began shaking her head instead as she raised her arm and checked her watch.

“Damn,” she swore under her breath before returning her attention to him. “I would love to, L, but I have something planned tonight. Could I maybe take a rain check on that offer?”

“Of course. How about Thursday afternoon?” he offered. “We could meet for lunch.”

Mia shook her head once more. “I have classes all week.”

“Saturday, then?” L suggested, and was pleased when she finally nodded and didn't change her mind. “Very well, then. We will meet on Saturday for lunch. You can decide on the restaurant.”

“Oh, no, you decide,” she insisted. “You've been living here longer than I have, I'm sure you know the best places.”

L struggled not to frown at her insistence that he choose where they go to eat. It was true that he had been living in England for several years, but nearly all of his time was spent at Wammy House. He never went about on the town like regular young people his own age, so how was he to know where the “hip” places to dine were? He decided that he would investigate to find out.

“I will send a car for you on Saturday,” he told her. “Where do you live?”

“I'm going to school at the Pembroke Academy,” she informed him. L committed the information to memory.

“Then that's where I will send the car for you. Shall we say, one o'clock?” he asked.

“Sounds good,” Mia replied, making a tucking motion behind her ear even though no hair had come loose from before. “See you then.”

L watched her walk away, holding his breath until he could no longer see her. Once she had vanished from his sight, he breathed deeply a few times and headed away from the stands with the intent of returning to the locker rooms to change.

As Watari watched from the court, he swore the boy was walking a bit taller than usual.

Calamity's Daughter (3/??)

Fri, 23 Feb 2007 00:04:53 GMT

Title: Calamity's Daughter
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Reno/Cera (OC), Rude/Tifa, Tseng/Elena, Vincent/Yuffie, Rufus, Cloud, Lucrecia, various other OCs
Spoilers: Not really... A slight mention of something that happened at the end of Advent Children, but otherwise nothing to mention.
Warnings: Adult language; Adult situations; semi-graphic Violence; Definitely AU
Summary: Reno's life had been turned upside-down and inside-out with the death of the woman he loved. Now everything is about to change once more... and then change again.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the canon. Square-Enix owns all that good stuff, and they've got the big bucks to show for it.
Note: Sequel to Project V.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2

Chapter Three

Rufus Shinra sighed deeply as he looked over the latest reports from the Investigative Division of the General Affairs Department, dismayed by Reno's apparent disregard for the safety of his own partner. Tseng had been warning him for months now that the redhead was becoming increasingly reckless in his behavior, but the young president had chosen to ignore it. Part of the reason he let Reno remain on active duty for as long as he had was because he felt marginally guilty for his current state of mind. After all, he had been the one to deliver the news of Cera's death to the Turk and that was ultimately the reason he had become nearly suicidal in his actions on the missions he was sent as of late.

Something had to be done, though. He could only turn his head away from the situation for so long, and the report from the previous day's mission had raised more red flags than usual. Reno had disobeyed a direct order from Rude and taken things into his own hands, putting both of their lives in danger. Granted, Reno was Rude's superior officer, but Rufus had given the bald Turk the lead on that mission, and thus he had expected Reno to follow the other man's orders without question. Not only did he disobey a direct order in the field, he also failed to return to headquarters at the completion of the mission in order to give his report – not an unusual disregard for protocol by any means, in Reno's case, but still another reason Tseng had more or less decided to cut Reno from field assignments completely.

It had taken Rufus' own intervention to convince Tseng to merely suspend Reno for a few weeks. Hopefully, the time off would give him an opportunity to straighten himself out. It wasn't going to be an easy task, however, and Rufus knew that it was going to take some drastic measures – and a bit of persuasion – to ensure he didn't end up losing one of his best men.

Running a hand back through his dark blonde hair, he reached over and picked up the phone, dialing a number from memory and waiting patiently for someone to answer on the other end of the line.

“It's me,” he said once the call had been answered. “We need to talk about Reno.”

He listened to the speaker on the other end of the line protest, closing his eyes as a small smile appeared on his lips. He had expected this very reaction.

“Listen, he is getting out of control. I fear that if he keeps acting out in such a manner, he will end up dead... and we wouldn't want that, would we?”

The person on the other end of the line didn't speak for a long while, then quietly agreed with his sentiment. They then began questioning what the president expected them to do, causing him to laugh good-naturedly.

“I think you should go talk to him. I know you've been reluctant to approach him, but perhaps that is all he really needs in order to overcome this rebellious, self-destructive streak he's on.”

Rufus patiently listened as the recipient of his call began to protest, then, to his surprise, they agreed to pay the Turk a visit. The young president thanked them, then hung up his phone as a satisfied sigh escaped his lips. A moment later he called Tseng and informed him he may want to rethink his removal of Reno from field work on a permanent basis.

Reno leaned back in his chair, feet propped on his desk, and tossed a crumpled ball of paper back and forth in his hands as he watched the clock above Rude's head slowly ticking away the minutes. The two of them had been banned from the field for two weeks thanks to his “little stunt” he had pulled with the punks in the alleyway, and even though they were only four days into their sentence, he was already getting antsy.

“Tseng's a fucking ass, yo,” he complained, tossing his ball into Rude's wastebasket before picking up another sheet of paper off his desk and crumpling it up.

“You're lucky you're not permanently suspended, Reno,” his partner informed him, looking at him briefly over the tops of his dark glasses before returning his attention to the magazine he had been reading. “And stop acting like you're the only one who got punished.”

“Yeah, why did you get suspended, anyway?” the redhead asked, making another basket and grinning smugly as he grabbed another sheet of paper and waded it up methodically.

“It was my mission,” Rude explained calmly. “I was in charge, and I failed to keep you under control in the field and make sure you came back to headquarters with me. Therefore, Tseng decided I should serve the same punishment as you.”

“Harsh, man,” Reno replied, shaking his head sympathetically. “Real harsh.”

“If you ask me, I think he was just taking it out on Rude because President Rufus won't let him get rid of your sorry ass.”

Reno spun around in his chair and grinned at the blonde woman standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey, Laney! Come to keep the captives company?”

“Not really,” Elena replied, dropping her hands to her sides and walking over to Reno's desk. He turned in his chair as she moved until he was once more facing the back wall of the office and tossed his ball into Rude's wastebasket. Elena did a double-take when she saw how their desks were arranged, pointing from Rude's position across from the doorway to the empty area across from Reno's desk.

“Didn't you used to be over there?” she asked the bald man, and he sighed in reply.

“We got bored and decided to rearrange things a bit,” Reno informed her, tossing his newest ball of paper up in the air and catching it.

“No,” Rude corrected him, “you got bored and thought it would be fun to rearrange the furniture. But you got tired of that idea after moving my desk here. Remember?”

Reno shrugged. “Same thing, yo.”

Rude let out another exasperated sigh. “You better move my desk back by tomorrow, Reno.”

“Or what?” the redhead asked, smiling cheekily. “You'll sic your girlfriend on me?”

“I don't think I need to give her another reason to want to kick your ass,” Rude shot back, grinning as well.

“What?” Reno asked, throwing up his hands and feigning innocence. “I didn't do anything!”

“Except you made a perverted comment about her breasts,” Rude reminded him.

“Aww, c'mon, man... That was weeks ago! You can't tell me she's still hung up on that, yo.”

Rude glared at his partner briefly before returning his attention to their visitor. “So, what brings you here, Elena?”

“Actually, I'm here to see Reno,” the female Turk replied with a sigh, turning to look at the man in question. Reno grinned and puffed out his chest, pointing to himself as he turned his attention to her.

“By the way,” he commented in Rude's direction, “Tifa should have taken that remark for what it was meant as – a compliment.”

“I hardly believe any comment you would have made about a woman's breasts would ever be seriously taken as a compliment, Reno,” Elena informed him, earning her a chuckle from Rude. “But that's besides the point. I hear Tseng's pretty pissed at you right now.”

“Old news, Laney,” Reno remarked, leaning back and balancing his paper ball on his forehead.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elena asked him, a bit hesitantly.

“Talk about what? The fact that Tseng's ready to permanently ban my ass from active duty?”

“No, about the reason you feel it's necessary to nearly get yourself killed every time you go out on assignment,” Elena said, her voice full of concern. “Honestly, Reno... I'm worried about you. We all are.”

Reno cast a disbelieving glance in her direction. “Yeah, I'm sure the president would be real broken up if I got iced, yo. And Tseng, he'd be in mourning for weeks, missing everything I used to do that drove him nuts.”

“Tseng really does worry about you, Reno,” she assured him. “Why do you think he's been trying to take you out of the field for months? He doesn't want to take the risk of something happening to you.”

“And you know this how?” Reno questioned her. “He tell you one night when you were all cuddly in bed after gettin' down and dirty?”

“Reno!” Elena spat, her cheeks burning bright red. “You know damn well Tseng and I don't have that sort of relationship.”

“You should,” Reno argued, turning to Rude for confirmation. “Am I right?”

Rude was staring straight ahead as he sat behind his desk, his mouth hanging open slightly. Reno tilted his head in curiosity as he considered his partner's expression, then turned and looked over his shoulder, following the other man's gaze.

Cera was standing there, just outside the doorway.

Reno suddenly sat up straight in his chair, his feet falling to the floor with a loud thump as his own mouth dropped open in disbelief. Surely, it had to be some trick of his imagination. Of course, if it was, then Rude wouldn't be able to see it, too. He watched her as she slowly entered the room, her eyes fixed on him, then stood and moved around the side of his desk to stand by Elena in the center of the room.

She looked exactly like he remembered: long, dark hair falling in soft waves about her shoulders, soft brown eyes, perfect, fair skin, delicate lips. She was wearing a different dress than the one Rufus had given her before, but the one she had on was still white and nearly swept the floor as she moved toward him. She looked like an angel, and if not for the surprised looks of his co-workers, he might have believed her to be one.

He took a few steps closer to her, stopping when they were barely an arm's length apart, and simply stared at her. He had no idea how it was even possible that she could be in the very same room as him. Rufus had told him to his face that she had died over a year ago, and he had been serious about it. At least, Reno had believed him to be serious. Now, however, he wasn't so sure what to believe. Either she had made a miraculous recovery and somehow come back from beyond the grave, or Rufus had lied to him. Either way, it didn't really matter. She was here now. But a part of him was afraid to touch her. He was afraid that it was just a dream and if he reached out to her, he would wake up.

She smiled at him, tears shining in her eyes, and moved a bit closer, reaching up with one hand and tracing the tattoo on his right cheek with her fingertips. He closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath as he recalled the first time she had ever made that gesture – and the way they had almost kissed afterwards. Opening his eyes, he reached out for her and pulled her into his arms, his lips easily finding hers. He kissed her the way he had wanted to ever since she had been taken from him, holding her tightly for fear that if he let go she would be gone again. When they finally parted, Reno saw the tears had managed to make their way down her cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away and felt his own tears of joy threatening to fall.

“Hi,” she whispered, voice choked with emotion, and Reno couldn't help but chuckle. All this time apart, and all she could think of to say was hi?

“Hey, babe,” he replied, stroking her hair and kissing her again. He still didn't know how she had gotten there, but he was past the point of caring. She was back, and that was all that mattered to him.

Across the room, Rude and Elena watched the entire scene unfold and exchanged confused glances. Rufus had never once indicated that there might be a chance Cera was still alive, but suddenly, little things began to make more sense: the reason he hadn't been able to meet Reno's eyes when he told him Cera had died, his insistence on a closed-casket funeral and no media attention at the services, the renewed activity in the laboratories housed in the basement at headquarters. They both knew Reno was probably far too elated with having Cera back to figure it out for himself at the moment, and they both prayed for their employer's safety once he finally did.

Calamity's Daughter (2/??)

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 00:44:42 GMT

Chapter Two:

Rude pulled open the door of the bar, stepping aside to allow a young couple to exit before entering the establishment and standing just inside the door. He reached up with both hands and straightened the lapels of his jacket, scanning the crowd with his shaded eyes as he searched for the person he had come for. Spotting his quarry, he walked over to the bar and took a seat at the end farthest from the wall.

Watching the person he'd come to see out of the corner of his eye – observing their every move – he waved over the girl waiting on customers at the bar so that he could order a drink to help him pass the time.

“What'll it be?” the cheerful ninja asked, pencil poised over a pad of paper as she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet.

“Just a beer, Yuffie,” Rude told her, reaching up to loosen his tie a bit. The perky young woman nodded and moved toward the center of the bar to pour his drink.

“Are you here to see Tifa?” she asked as she noticed his eyes constantly flickering to the buxom brunette. His head turned fully in her direction and she saw the faintest trace of a blush on his cheeks. She smiled at his reaction. He and Tifa had been dating for over a year, and both of them were still rather shy and reluctant to talk about it.

Of course, she knew part of the reason had to be Cloud's rather vocal protestations against them being together. At least once a week, he would corner Tifa and lecture her about being romantically involved with someone like Rude – someone with a shady past who did ShinRa's dirty work for a living. Tifa would defend Rude, and when Cloud finally gave up she would call her best friend, Yuffie, and cry to her over the phone about how unfair he was being. Rude wasn't a bad person, she would say... and Yuffie believed it. All of the times she had seen the two of them together, he had always been extremely sweet and attentive to Tifa.

Sighing to herself, she carried the foaming drink over to Rude and placed it before him, a playful grin spreading across her lips.

“There you are, Rudolpho,” she said as he took his first sip, causing him to promptly spit the alcohol back out over the top of the bar. He raised a gloved hand and wiped his mouth, glaring at her from behind his glasses.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, his voice somewhat threatening in its tone despite the fact that he was speaking quietly.

“Rudolpho,” Yuffie repeated, still grinning. “That is your name, isn't it? Rudolpho Martinez.”

Rude ground his teeth, his mouth set in a firm line. Only one other person knew his real name, and he had told her what it was in strict confidence. If he had known she was going to tell all her friends what his given name was, he never would have divulged the information in the first place.

“Hey, sweetie,” Tifa greeted him as she came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his chest and kissing the top of his bald head. “I wasn't expecting you before closing tonight.”

Rude turned to her, still fuming, but the sight of her smiling at him caused his anger to quickly fade. He felt himself smiling a bit and he reached out to brush some of her dark brown hair back from her forehead with one hand before leaning close and placing a small kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she asked when he backed away.

“Just for being your usual, beautiful self,” he replied, and he was rewarded with the appearance of a blush across her pale cheeks. She shook her head in an embarrassed fashion, causing her hair to fall across her face in a dark curtain, and Rude smiled even more at her shyness. It was just one of the things he loved about her. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer until she was standing next to his barstool, leaning up slightly to whisper in her ear.

“You told Yuffie my name.”

Tifa pulled back, blinking a few times in brief confusion. How the conversation had moved from him telling her she was beautiful to him accusing her – although rightly so – of giving away one of his secrets, she had no idea.

“Yes,I did,” she admitted meekly, stroking the side of his face with one hand. “Please don't be mad at me, Rude. She's my best friend. We have no secrets.”

Rude closed his eyes and nodded his head, sighing contentedly under her caress. He knew he couldn't stay mad at her, even if she wasn't touching him the way she was. He loved her, and nothing she ever did – aside from cheating on him – could make him feel any differently about her.

“How was work?” Tifa asked as she handed her tray over the bar to Yuffie so the ninja could fill it with the next round of orders.

Rude sighed. “Reno almost got us killed--”

“Again?” Yuffie interrupted, then bit her tongue as Rude turned to look at her briefly before returning his attention to Tifa.

“As I was saying... Reno almost got us killed, then brushed it off like he usually does.”

“He's still grieving, Rude,” Tifa told him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“He's had plenty of time to grieve,” Rude remarked, growling slightly. “He needs to get his act together before someone really does end up getting killed.”

Tifa sighed and kissed his cheek. “Everything will work out,” she assured him. “You'll see.”

“I'm glad you can be so confident about that. Tseng is about ready to take him out of the field for good. If he wants to risk his own life, that's one thing, but he's putting the lives of others in danger, too.”

Tifa let out another sigh as Yuffie handed her tray back to her, now full of drinks for the patrons of the bar.

“Just don't worry about him, Rude. He's a big boy. I'm sure he can take care of himself.”

Reno groaned as he opened one blue eye and looked around the dark room. It took a while for his sight to adjust to the lack of light, but soon things started to gradually come into focus. The surroundings were completely foreign to him – which really wasn't much of a surprise at all – but a clock across from the bed he was lying in told him it was just past three in the morning.

He carefully rolled over from his stomach onto his back, moving slowly so as not to awaken his companion in the bed. Even without looking, he knew he wasn't alone. He never woke up in a strange bed in the middle of the night alone.

Th girl next to him was young, no more than a teenager, with shoulder-length blonde hair and well-tanned skin. She was asleep, but even so he could tell her eyes would be blue once she opened them. It was the same as every other girl he'd been with since Cera. They were always petite and tanned, with blonde hair and blue eyes – the opposite of Cera in every way.

The only exception to this new pattern had been Elena. The two of them had spent one night together in the midst of their own, personal moments of weakness. Reno had still been getting over the shock of losing Cera, and Elena had been dealing with the fact that no matter what she did, Tseng didn't seem to take any notice of her. They had both been vulnerable and felt alone, and had ended up seeking solace in one another one drunken night. Things had been a bit awkward between them for a while after that, but they managed to put their indiscretion behind them and move on.

Moving with the stealthiness that came naturally with his years of being a Turk, Reno got out of the bed and began searching in the dark for his clothes. He located the majority of them on the floor by the door, then spent several minutes combing the floor in search of his underwear before finally finding the missing garment near the bed alongside an empty condom wrapper.

That was one thing he had to give himself credit for, he thought as he quickly dressed. No matter how drunk he was when he went home with whatever random girl he picked up, he always remembered to use protection. Of course, maybe he was giving himself too much credit. Perhaps it was the girls who insisted on him using protection. Either way, it was a blessing that over the years he'd never strayed from that one habit.

But that's not true, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. You did stray... that night with Cera.

Reno shook his head to clear away the memories of that night before they could become too vivid and cause him to break down in tears in the middle of the bedroom of some girl whose name he didn't even know. The one-year anniversary of Cera's death had just passed, and he had been feeling particularly melancholy in the recent weeks.

Perhaps that was why he had been so reckless in that alleyway with Rude: Despite the time that had passed, the pain was still fresh in his memory. He knew it wasn't fair for him to be putting his best friend in danger like that, but whenever they got in a situation like the one they had been in that afternoon, it seemed like his brain shifted into self-destruct mode and nothing else mattered but putting himself on the line. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that Tseng was beginning to tire of his antics and was probably on the verge of removing him from active field duty. If that happened, he would give his boss one week before he tired of hearing him bemoan his misfortunes and put him back out there in hopes that someone would put him out of his misery.

The girl in the bed began to stir as Reno dressed, and he quickly slipped out of the bedroom with only his pants and underwear on, choosing to hide in a nearby bathroom in hopes that she would simply roll over and go back to sleep, or in the very least not cause a big scene when she realizes he was gone. Most of the girls he slept with understood that they were just a distraction and that they shouldn't expect him to be there in the morning, but he occasionally got one of those crazies who thought sex – even in the form of a one-night stand – meant some sort of a relationship.

Reno hurriedly finished dressing in the small bathroom, then silently opened the door and made his way through the dark apartment, taking his time so he didn't bump into anything and wake the girl. Once he was standing out in the hallway, he sighed heavily and trudged to the stairwell, taking the stairs down to the ground floor and exiting the building to find himself in a part of town he knew well. There were several bars in the general vicinity, and he often went to one of them on his way home from work – especially on a bad day.

Whistling to himself, he set off in the direction of his own apartment, hands in his pockets and head lowered so he would seem as innocuous as any other drunk wandering the streets at three a.m. Of course, a part of him hoped he would get jumped by someone. At least in his current situation he wouldn't have to worry about Rude getting caught in the crossfire, and Tseng wouldn't be able to get pissed at him for potentially jeopardizing a mission because he was feeling a bit suicidal.

Some movement off to his left caught his eye and he turned his head slightly to see a flash of white cloth disappearing into the shadows of a nearby alley. Reno blinked his eyes and shook his head. He knew his mind had to be playing tricks on him. Sure, Cera had always worn a white dress, but there was no possible way she could be in some alley watching him. Not anymore. It was probably just some homeless person debating whether it was worth risking their lives to ask him for some spare change. He was a Turk, after all, and despite Rufus' every effort to turn around their reputation, the public still held their own preconceived notions about them. But he had also been homeless once, as a child, and he understood the hardships the people living day to day in the slums were going through.

Reno continued staring into the darkness of the alley, willing his eyes to adjust or the person he had seen to come forward into the light of the street lamp, but neither one happened. After a moment, he gave up and reached into his back pocket, extracting his wallet. He looked through it to see how much cash he had on hand then removed a few bills, stepping forward and placing them just on the other side of the darkness. Then he placed his wallet back in his pocket and continued on his way home.

Justin/Leena: Falling Into You (3/?)

Thu, 15 Feb 2007 04:39:37 GMT

Title: Falling Into You
Rating: R
Main Pairing: Justin Takarai/Leena Auchenleck
Genre: Romance, drama, suspense
Warnings: Language, Violence, Sex, Alcohol, Drug Use
Author's Notes: This story is a part of ffvii_tng, created by myself and butterflys_fics. Justin is Tseng & Elena's oldest son, and - as most of you probably know - Leena is Reno & Cera's oldest daughter.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the canon characters of FFVII. Half of the next gen kids are mine, though. The rest belong to butterflys_fics.
Summary: A childhood crush comes back to haunt Justin when he starts training to become a Turk. He thought he'd gotten over Leena, but when it becomes apparent his feelings for her run deeper than mere friendship, he has a choice to make: Ignore what his heart is trying to tell him, or attempt to make her see that she feels the same way about him.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2

Chapter Three

Justin looked around in awe as he made his way down the hallway toward the training rooms at headquarters. He had been in the building dozens of times in his life, but most of the time he had only been there to see his father or attend one of the yearly parties sponsored by the company for the employees and their family, and the occasional charity event. He'd never really been 'behind the scenes' at ShinRa before, and the new experience had him excited and nervous all at the same time.

One of the guards had recognized him the moment he set foot into the building, and immediately directed him to the locker room to change. Apparently, his father had told most of his employees about his acceptance into the training program, because several people along the way congratulated him and wished him luck. In a way, it was nice to know his father was so proud of him – but it was still a bit embarrassing, not to mention disheartening. He hadn't even started his training yet, and already his father was playing favorites.

Sighing deeply, he smoothed his hands down over the front of the navy blue suit that he had been instructed to wear, steeling himself for whatever comments the other recruits might have for him, then opened the door to the main training room and stepped inside. At first, he thought the room was empty, then he spotted a small group in the far corner of the room, speaking in hushed tones. Keeping his distance, he merely observed them for a moment. There were three of them – two female, one male. He was somewhat surprised by the presence of the two female trainees, but supposed that was only because he was used to thinking of Turks as men. After all, his mother was the only female currently on the team, and had been for as long as she had been a member.

Taking a deep breath, Justin crossed the room and introduced himself to the others. To his surprise, no one made any comments. He wondered if perhaps they didn't care that he was the president's son. Or, perhaps, maybe they simply didn't recognize his last name. His father often insisted on being addressed by his first name, as he had been ever since becoming a Turk, even despite his promotion following Rufus Shinra's death. He wondered how they didn't see the resemblance, however, then simply chalked it up to his younger features and more modern hairstyle.

As they continued making small talk, two more trainees joined them – another male and female who appeared to be related, judging by the way they were bickering as they entered the training room. Justin couldn't help but smile at them, wondering if his father would split them up or keep them together. He was about to introduce himself to them when the door to the training room opened again and four familiar faces came marching in.

Justin watched as they entered and made their way to the front of the training room, three of them standing in a line across the front of the room as the fourth took his place in front. Automatically, he began making his way over to where they were and stood before them, mirroring the position that the ones in the back were standing in. The other trainees followed his lead, and the man in front nodded in approval once they had all come to attention.

“Welcome to ShinRa,” Tseng told them, his eyes scanning over their young faces. “It gives me immense pleasure to welcome you all into the training program for the Investigative Division of the General Affairs Department. For the next six months, you will receive intense training in various forms of combat, and also learn to develop survival skills necessary for this position. Please do not take this lightly. Such training is a serious undertaking and will most undoubtedly cause you great stress. If you do not think you can handle such an experience, I ask you to please walk away now.” He paused, giving them time to mull over what he had said, then nodded when none of them moved from their positions.

“Very well. After the six months, you will receive your final evaluation, after which you will be notified if you have made the team. But that it is the future. At the present time, you will be assigned to train under one of the current members of the Turks.” He informed them, stepping aside and motioning to the others behind him with one hand as he reached into his jacket with the other hand and removed a list of their names.

“Donovan and Lasaria?” he read off the paper, then looked out over the small assembly.

“Sir!” answered two of the female recruits, standing up a bit straighter. Justin had to bite his tongue not to laugh at one of them, who had her chest stuck out so far she almost looked like Tifa.

“You two will be training under Elena,” he informed them, pointing to the petite blonde standing to his right. Justin watched his mother raise a hand and give the girls a wave and a small smile, smirking to himself. She certainly seemed sweet, but he knew that his mother could be just as deadly as anything.

“Anderson and... Anderson?” Tseng read, pausing for a second and re-reading the names before nodding and looking back up at the remaining trainees.

“Sir!” called the last two who had entered the training room, stepping forward to stand next to each other.

“Brother and sister?” Tseng wondered, looking from one of them to the other.

“Twins, sir,” the young man answered.

“Very well. You two will be training with Rude,” he informed them, gesturing to the bald man on his left. Justin saw both of them swallow a bit nervously at the imposing figure as he merely stood there, wearing his trademark sunglasses, and thought that if only they knew he was a sensitive family man, they wouldn't be nearly as afraid of him.

“So that leaves Damachi and Takarai,” Tseng continued, stepping over before the last two trainees. Justin remained facing forward, but he could see the young man standing next to him looking from him to his father out of the corner of his eye.

“Care to guess who you will be training with?” Tseng asked, stepping aside so they could see behind him. Justin fought to keep from grinning.

“Reno,” he muttered under his breath, and his father flashed a smile in his direction before returning to his place in front of the Turks.

“You two will be training under Reno. Do not let his appearance fool you, though. He is actually quite a competent fighter and the head of the division. Get used to taking orders from him, because if you are selected to join, he will be the one bossing you around.”

Justin knew Reno was a good fighter, and he was excited to get to train with him. Sure, Rude had a lot of power behind his punches, but Reno had speed and agility. If he wanted to build up his stamina for long battles, he couldn't ask for a better teacher. He also knew that Reno wouldn't hold back on him like Rude might. Sure, it would be expected of his mother to hold back if she was training him, but Rude also had a sort of feeling that his friends' children were just as dear as his own – and that would make him hold back when sparring with him. Reno, on the other hand, was all about the fight. He didn't care who you were, he wouldn't hold back unless you were his own flesh and blood. Overall, Justin was happy with his father placing him under the redhead's tutelage.

“This afternoon you will spend with your instructors, getting to know one another. You will discuss your strengths and weaknesses and determine your best possible course of training. If, for some reason, you should have a problem with your instructor, please let me know and I will reassign you to another.” He turned to the twins with a smile. “And I am afraid that being intimidated by your instructor is not proper grounds for reassignment.”

The twins blushed and Justin let a small smile peek through as his father wished them all luck before turning things over to the three Turks. Elena was the first to approach her assigned trainees, followed closely by Reno. Rude remained in position, waving the twins over to him, and Reno shook his head, smirking as he joined Justin and the other trainee assigned to him.

“Man, he sure likes screwin' around with them, doesn't he?” he asked, hooking a finger over his shoulder at his best friend. “Of course, we know what a softy he really is, right?” he added with a jab of his elbow in Justin's direction.

The other trainee – Damachi – cleared his throat a bit. “You two know each other?”

“Hell, yeah... Of course I know Jutsin,” Reno replied, much to Justin's dismay. “The president's his old man, yo.”

Justin looked away with a sigh, wishing Reno could somehow develop a sense of tact, but knowing that it wasn't the redhead's style. He could feel Damachi's eyes on him and knew that by the next day, all the trainees would be talking about the president's son and how he probably had help getting into the training program.

“So, tell me about you, kid,” Reno asked Damachi, and Justin half-listened as the other trainee described his years of martial arts and weapons training.

As Damachi continued to drone on, Justin looked around the room at the other trainees. His mother was chatting animatedly with the two girls that had been assigned to her, while Rude was speaking calmly to the twins, his muscular arms folded across his large chest. Meanwhile, his father was standing just inside the door of the training room, speaking to a girl as he wrote something on a clipboard.

His interest piqued, he turned a bit farther away from the conversation next to him to study the girl. He couldn't see her face because of the way she was standing, but what he could see was enough to make any man take notice. Long, shapely legs made their way up from strappy little high-heeled sandals to disappear under a sleek miniskirt that was cut perfectly for the curve of her waist and hips. The soft grey blouse she wore clung to the rather feminine curves of her upper body while contrasting a great deal with the red hair that cascaded down her back, and she had delicate, perfectly manicured hands that moved about as she spoke to his father about something or other.

“Leena!” he heard Reno yell behind him, and the girl turned in their direction, looking disoriented for a moment before her brown eyes settled on her father.

It had been over a year since Justin last saw her. He had had a crush on her, but she was seeing someone and it was pretty serious, so he had pushed her out of his mind and moved on with his life. Seeing her again – especially at ShinRa – was the last thing he had expected. Sort of stupid, on his part, because he knew she worked there. But she was in PR, so why was she flagging his father down in the training room?

He didn't know, but it didn't really matter, because once she smiled back at her father and waved in his direction, it was like a Pandora's box had been opened. Justin felt all his old feelings for her coming back to the surface before he could even look away, and as she took the clip board back from his father and left the training room, a part of him ached to go with her.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as the door closed behind her, knowing that now things were going to be even more complicated than he had originally anticipated.

Justin/Leena: Falling Into You (2/?)

Mon, 12 Feb 2007 04:03:10 GMT

Chapter Two

“You have a ten-thirty meeting with the WRO's safety commissioner, and you're scheduled to meet with the new Turk trainees this afternoon at three,” Leena Auchenleck told her boss as she walked down the hallway with him, lingering a step behind the taller man. She pushed some of her long red hair back out of her brown eyes and looked up from the president's agenda as he stopped mid-stride and turned to her.

“I told you Justin was accepted, didn't I?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in thought.

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a nod, a smile spreading easily across her lips. “Only about three times now.”

“How many times do I have to remind you, Leena – you don't have to call me 'sir.'”

“Sorry, Tseng,” she apologized with a small chuckle. “I'm just not used to addressing authority figures by their first names.”

“Then don't think of me as an authority figure,” he suggested with a grin. “Think of me as a family friend.”

“That shouldn't be too much of a stretch,” Leena assured him as they began walking again.

Tseng nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as they continued their way to his office. They made a few stops along the way to check on some of the newer ShinRa employees in order to see how they were making out with the company. Unlike the previous president, Tseng genuinely cared for his employees' well-being and made every effort to make sure their working environment was as comfortable and pleasant as possible.

“I really must apologize again for having you do this, Leena,” he told her once they finally reached his office. He held open the door and allowed her to precede him into the large room before following her, then closed the door behind himself and made his way to the pristine desk in the center of the room.

“It's okay, I understand. It's not every day that your personal assistant goes into labor.”

The corner of Tseng's mouth rose slightly in a half-smile as he took his seat with a sigh, shaking his head.

“Yes, but I should have planned better. Instead, I put off finding a temporary replacement for her until the last minute. I swear, Leena, sometimes I think your father is wearing off on me.”

The redhead grinned, a small laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head in amusement. “You know, Rude tried to use that same excuse when he was being openly affectionate with Tifa in front of us kids. 'Reno must be wearing off on me,' he'd say. I think he was just trying to cover for the fact he was horny.”

Tseng laughed. “And what am I attempting to cover for?” he wondered aloud.

Leena shrugged. “You're probably just getting forgetful in your old age,” she said with a wink that reminded him much of the cheeky redhead she called 'Daddy.'

“Perhaps you are right,” he commented, leaning back in his chair.

“I was just teasing you, Tseng,” Leena assured him with a warm smile.

“I know,” Tseng replied with a sigh. “But the fact that my oldest son is entering training to become a Turk makes me feel old.”

“How do you think my father feels, then? Remember, I'm almost five years older than Justin.”

Tseng let out a throaty chuckle. “I don't think Reno will ever feel old.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

“I can't believe my boyfriend is going to be a Turk!"

Justin smiled as he watched his girlfriend, Nikki, twirling herself around in front of him as they walked toward ShinRa headquarters for his first official afternoon of training. He had told her the previous night about being accepted, and – Nikki being Nikki – she had congratulated him in her own special way.

“Hey, now,” he said with a laugh, reaching out to catch her as she tripped and nearly fell on the ground. He brushes her dark hair out of her blue eyes and leaned down to kiss her briefly before letting her go. “Don't go getting yourself hurt on my account.”

“I'm sorry, baby,” she apologized, standing on her toes to kiss him again. “I'm just so excited! You've wanted to be a Turk for so long, and you've finally made it!”

“Not exactly, Nik,” he corrected her as he resumed walking. “This is just the training phase. Once that's finished, then I'll have to pass the final evaluation before I'm given official status.”

“Well, I have complete faith in you,” she assured him, wrapping her arms around one of his and resting her head against his shoulder as they continued toward headquarters.

Justin smiled and kissed the top of her head, letting out a content sigh. Life was just about perfect. He had a wonderful girl who cared about him, a family who loved him, and he was being given a once in a lifetime opportunity that he had wanted ever since he could remember.

“Here we are,” he announced as they reached the front doors of ShinRa headquarters, where his mother and father had worked for years. He looked from the glass front doors up the entire front of the vast building, his stomach suddenly clenching into knots of nervousness.

“It's okay,” Nikki purred in his ear, giving his arm a squeeze. “You're going to be great. In fact, I bet you'll be the best of all the trainees they've brought in.”

Justin's mouth quirked slightly in a half-smile. “You're just saying that because my parents were both Turks.”

“Not really. And hey... even if you're not that good, I bet being the president's son has its merits.”

Justin sighed and pulled his arm free of her grip. She had just touched on the one issue he was dreading would come up among the other trainees. How was he to know if he was being fairly evaluated when his father was the head of ShinRa? What if the person in charge of his training was so afraid of incurring his father's wrath that they took it easy on him and passed him simply because they feared any repercussions from their boss?

“I better head inside,” he told Nikki without looking at her. “I don't want to be late on my first day.”

He took a step forward and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back. He turned his head to look at her and she took his face in both hands and pulled him down, giving him a long, lingering kiss before finally letting him go and stepping away from him with a smile.

“For luck,” she told him, and he nodded slightly before making his way into headquarters.

Calamity's Daughter (1/??)

Mon, 22 Jan 2007 06:24:35 GMT

Chapter One

Gunshots echoed throughout the alleyway, punctuated by the staccato sound of two pairs of footsteps running away from the firing, splashing in the shallow puddles that remained from a rainstorm earlier in the day. The men stopped as soon as they felt they were at a safe enough distance from their pursuers, and the larger of the two pulled the empty ammo clip out of his own firearm, tossing it aside before retrieving another clip from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and siding it into place in the gun.

The two of them barely hand enough time to catch their breath before bullets began flying in their direction once more, barely missing their heads. They dove in opposite directions, the large man ducking behind a dumpster while his partner slipped around the corner of the building across from him.

“Dammit, I'm out of ammo, yo!” the redhead yelled from his position behind the building, and the larger man groaned as he readied his gun to return fire.

“You mean to tell me you only packed one clip, Reno?”

Reno looked over his shoulder, peeking at his partner around the corner of the building, a defiant grin spreading across his face. Rude groaned again, rolling his eyes behind his dark sunglasses and shaking his head disapprovingly. Reno had known there was likely to be gun play involved on this mission, and he had purposely “forgotten” to bring along spare ammo for his gun. Of course, the older Turk should have expected that much of his partner. More and more lately, Reno had been pushing things, putting his life closer and closer to the line. Unfortunately, his reckless behavior also possessed to possibility to impact whoever had been assigned to accompany him on his missions in the field – namely, Rude.

“Cover me.”

Rude looked over at his partner and saw him crouched down low to the ground, EMR in hand, just waiting to pounce at the right moment. He had a predatory gleam in his eye, like he did whenever he was about to strike down an opponent, but Rude knew what that ruthlessness was hiding.

It seemed like only yesterday his young partner had lost the woman he loved, but in reality over a year had gone by since that tragic day changed his best friend forever. Sure, Reno still cracked jokes and made lewd comments, but the laughter never really fully carried into his eyes. Even his un-naturally bright red hair seemed a bit duller since Cera's death.

Her passing also caused Reno to fall back into his old ways. He'd go out each night after work, drinking until some ungodly hour, and either Rude would have to go pick him up or he'd end up crashing with whatever bimbo he happened to pick up at the bar that night. Rude had noticed there was a change in that habit, though. Before, Reno always took the girls he met back to his place. Now, however, he always insisted on going home with them. He supposed it was because Reno had really loved Cera, and he didn't want to disrespect her memory by fucking some random girl in the same bed he'd made love to her in. In a way, it was almost romantic – for Reno.

“I'm going in,” the redhead announced, and Rude shook his head.

“Reno, don't be an idiot. We're outnumbered here. Just get back to the car and call for backup.”

“Like hell I will,” Reno threw over his shoulder as he began making his way along the wall, keeping low to the ground so their assailants wouldn't notice him. They were hiding behind some barrels on either side of the alley, coming up every so often to set off a few rounds of ammo in their direction..

“Reno, get back here!” Rude called to him through clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice down in spite of his anger so their opponents wouldn't know what was going on. Groaning to himself, he leaned around the dumpster and fired off a couple of bullets, hitting one of their attackers squarely in the middle of his forehead and sending him sprawling backward to the wet ground. His hit was met with a renewed burst of fire, and he could feel the dumpster being pushed back against him with the force of all the bullets hitting it.

“We surrender, yo!” Rude heard his partner yelling over the raining of bullets. “Just quite firing!”

The gunshots tapered off, and Rude wondered just how stupid Reno had become in the past year. They had guns, for crying out loud, and all he had was his EMR. They simply needed to concentrate their fire on him rather the redhead rather than the dumpster that was providing his cover, and his best friend would be reduced to a bloody human pincushion.

“If you're surrendering, then why'd you shoot one of our guys?” Rude heard one of the assailants shout back after a minute. The voice sounded young, and for the first time since the chase had begun he peaked around the side of the dumpster and actually took a good look of the gang that had been pursuing them. There were six total, five now breathing with the one he'd managed to hit. Judging by the body of the fallen member, they weren't any older than their later teens, early twenties, max. Which made them about the same age as Reno had been when he'd first been recruited for the Turks.

“Look, about that... I'm sorry,” Reno was replying in his usual, smooth-talking manner. “My partner here's got an itchy trigger finger, and sometimes he's a lucky shot. If you wanna dust him after you've taken me hostage, feel free to do so.”

“Reno,” Rude growled, and the younger Turk looks back at him over his shoulder and winked. Rude knew that wink, and the smile he flashed briefly quite well. They were Reno's way of saying: Trust me, I have a plan. Huffing to himself, he decided to sit back and let things unfold, readying a fresh clip of bullets in his spare gun just in case things got even uglier.

“Look,” Reno continued, returning his attention to the group of young thugs. “I'll even put down my weapon, okay?”

He stood up to his full height, holding his EMR up for all of them to see, and took a couple of small steps toward them. Rude watched with baited breath, waiting for them to gun his partner down, but no one fired. They merely kept their guns trained on him as he moved closer. Perhaps they were smarter than he gave them credit for and saw a ripe opportunity in kidnapping of one ShinRa's Turks. Of course, thinking that Rufus would willingly give into any sort of demands in order to secure the safety of one of the Turks was, in itself, stupid. Rufus Shinra never gave into terrorist demands. So what if one of his Turks was killed? They were a replaceable commodity to him.

“We got a deal, yo?” Reno asked, taking one final step toward their pursuers before stopping.

“Get rid of your weapon first, then we'll see,” one of the thugs yelled back. Rude assumed this one to be the leader by the authoritative tone of his voice.

Reno nodded and bent down, placing his EMR on the ground. Rude blinked when he saw him almost imperceptibly flip the switch into the on position with his thumb before he let it go, sending it rolling in the direction of the thugs. His eyes moved along the ground , following the path the weapon would take, and he finally saw what his partner had been up to all along – the thugs were standing in a small pool of water that stretched across the alley. Rude held his breath, hoping that the plan would work, and watched Reno back away slowly as the weapon rolled to a stop in the middle of the water.

The EMR flickered slightly, the water it was lying in reacting with its electrical components and causing it to short out. Blue waves of energy radiated from the weapon, traveling along the water like ripples from tossing a pebble into a lake. The electric charge coursed through the puddle until it reached the thugs, then entered their bodies, causing them to convulse violently. Their guns began firing wildly as they lost control of their muscles, and Reno quickly ducked, throwing himself toward the wall and covering his head with his arms as he waited for the electrocution to finish and the bullets to stop firing.

One the firing had ceased, Rude eased his head around the side of the dumpster to survey the damage. Five more bodies had joined the one he'd taken out on the ground, and Reno was huddled against the wall across from him, arms held over his head as though they would really shield him from any oncoming bullets.

“You alive, partner?” he asked the redhead, who slowly lowered his arms as he nodded, then turned his head and grinned at him.

“Pretty cool, huh?” he asked proudly, getting to his feet and walking over to where they bodies were laying to retrieve his weapon.

“Pretty damn stupid, if you ask me,” Rude replied as he stood up and holstered his guns, then began brushing off the dirt that had accumulated on his suit as he had been crouched down on the ground. “What the hell were you thinking, Reno? What if your plan hadn't worked?”

The redhead shrugged, still grinning. “Then I woulda winged it.”

“And gotten both of us killed,” Rude pointed out, his expression grim. “You know, you might have a death wish, but not everyone else does, too.”

“Relax, yo... Everything went according to plan, so no harm done.”

“Yeah,” Rude said in a short, clipped tone. “And what if it hadn't? Would you like to be the one to tell Tifa that something happened to me?”

Reno seemed to consider the question for a moment before wincing visibly at the thought of telling the young fighter than the man she loved had been hurt – and that it had been his fault. The mere idea of the ass-kicking she would have given him for that was enough to make him realize that Rude had a rather valid point. He wasn't just putting himself in danger now, more and more he was dragging his longtime partner into life-or-death situations with him. He supposed it was probably because – even though he wasn't sure what he had to live for any more – he still didn't really want to die. Not just that, but he didn't want to die alone.

Like Cera, a voice said in the back of his head.

But Cera hadn't died alone... not really. She'd been surrounded by healers and surgeons and all sorts of medical personnel who were working to try to save her. That didn't matter, though. He was the one person who should have been there when she took her final breath. Like the doctors, he wouldn't have been able to save her, but at least she would have known he was there and that he cared about her.

“You're thinking about her again, aren't you?”

Reno turned to Rude, blinking rapidly as he refocused his train of thought on the alley they were standing in. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say he had no idea what his partner was talking about, then walked over to the puddle of water to retrieve his EMR, lifting it out of the water by the strap in case there was any juice left in it.

“You had that look, Reno,” he heard Rude saying as he came up behind him. “That wistful, 'I wish there was more I could have done' look you always get when you're thinking about her.”

“So?” Reno asked, shaking the water off his weapon and covering his hand with the sleeve of his jacket before turning the switch into the off position.

“It's not healthy,” Rude told him, resting a gloved hand on his shoulder. “You're going to end up driving yourself mad if you can't let go. Or worse, you'll end up acting like Cloud.”

Reno couldn't stop himself from laughing at that comment. Everyone who knew Cloud knew that he was still a bit hung-up over the death of Aeris, even though that had been over three years ago. Sure, there had been a brief period after Sephiroth's second coming where he seemed to have gotten over it, but somehow he managed to slip back into his old, self-deprecating ways. Unfortunately, as Tifa's boyfriend, Rude was treated to a larger dose of this behavior than most people.

“Letting go sounds a lot easier to do than it really is, man,” he replied without looking at his partner, placing his still-damp EMR back in its special holster under his jacket. “Imagine if you lost Tifa, how you'd feel... Imagine that, then tell me I should 'let go'.”

He turned to look at Rude, holding his shaded gaze for a long time until the other man finally looked away with a sigh. He knew Reno had a point. Losing someone you truly loved wasn't something you easily got over. However, if he didn't get over it, one or bother of them were likely to end up dead.

“Look, you mind going back to HQ on your own?” Reno asked. “I got something I need to do, yo.”

“Like what?” Rude asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something personal,” he replied, hoping that his best friend would realize it wasn't up for discussion and just drop the subject. “I promise I'll call up a clean-up crew and wait for them to arrive before I head out.”

Rude seemed to consider his offer for a moment before reaching a decision. If he went back alone, Tseng would demand to know Reno's whereabouts. Rude had a fairly good idea what the redhead was up to, and he also knew that their boss would not be pleased that he was doing such things on company time. However, there was a slim chance that the leader of the Turks might also think Reno was merely taking some personal time to visit Cera's grave – something he did almost religiously around this time of month. Deciding to take a gamble, he slowly nodded his head in agreement, earning himself a grin from his young partner.

“Thanks, man. I owe ya one!”

Reno slapped Rude on the back and jogged back to where they had parked their company car, retrieving his phone from the glove box and calling up the clean-up crew, just as he'd promised he would. Rude shook his head and silently followed him, wondering how many more missions like this it would take to get them both killed.

Death Note: Enigma (1/?)

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 05:21:35 GMT

Okay.... So, I apologize. The final chapter of Project V is going to be delayed a couple of hours while I rewrite the damn thing. Apparently, it's that time of year where computers choose to hate me. I had the whole thing written, and then BAM! I got one of those infamous "blue screens of death." Once I got my laptop restarted, I tried to open up the document, and... file corrupted. What the fuck?

Anyway, to tide you all over whilst I rewrite the final chapter, here is the the first chapter of another little venture I've been working on lately. Enjoy!

Title: Enigma
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: L, Mia Harper (OC)
Spoilers: Since this is a prequel to the actual manga series, the only real spoilers involved are the few details that are diclosed in the course of the manga about L's life prior to the start of the manga. Any other spoilers will be posted later as warning about them becomes relevant.
Warnings: Some sensitive subject matter
Summary: It is the events in our lives which often shape who we later become, and therefore determine our destiny.
Disclaimer: L and the world of Death Note are not mine. I am merely borrowing them for the sake of placating my muses.

Chapter One

St. Anne's Orphanage – Boston, Massachusetts – 1987

The boy sat quietly on his assigned bed, ignoring the ruckus being caused by the other children running about the room playing tag. A light spring rain was falling outside the window by his head, and while the majority of people walking by weren't even using umbrellas, it was still enough to make the sisters who ran the establishment insist that the children stay indoors to play. The boy sighed as he turned the newspaper in his hands back to the front page, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. He knew it was unusual for a child his age to take such an interest in the daily events of the world, but the sisters had grown accustomed to his inquisitive nature and now brought him the paper each day once they had finished reading it.

His dark grey eyes scanned the major story for the day, a follow-up on a tragic incident he had read about a few weeks prior. A young girl named Mia, only one year younger than himself, had been found hiding in a closet of the one-bedroom apartment where her mother had been brutally raped and murdered. Unlike most other seven-year-old children, he fully understood what those words meant and his heart had gone out to the poor girl whose picture had appeared on the front page. The subsequent reports in the news stated that she had told the authorities she heard three distinct male voices, but had not seen any faces due to her position. The police really didn't have much to go on other than her testimony, and it seemed as though the woman's killers would continue to roam freely.

The boy sighed as he folded up the paper and set it aside, then wrapped his arms around his bent legs and rested his chin against his knees. He traced his bottom lip with his thumb as he became lost in thought, wondering what sort of a world they lived in where a woman could be violated and killed, her child orphaned, and justice not be brought to those responsible. He had once discussed the issue of justice with the sisters who ran the orphanage, and they all told him the same thing: God will see to it that the wicked are punished and the just rewarded when their time should come. But what if there was no God? Then who would make those men pay for what they had done?

It wasn't like what had happened to him. He was an orphan, too, but his parents had died in a car accident when he was only eight months old. There was no way he could seek justice from the car they had been in, no way he could demand that the road they had been driving on pay for the sin of taking their lives. Yet even if there was, he had no desire to do such a thing, for he did not remember them. He had been far too young when they died to recall so much and their faces and voices. He possessed no memories; All he had to remember them by was a stuffed rabbit that sat on his bed at the orphanage.

The clock tower of the church next door began to chime the hour – five o'clock – and the boy looked up from his thoughts and turned his head toward the front door of the orphanage. As if on cue, it opened and a tall, middle-aged woman entered, leading a small girl by the hand. The girl had long blonde hair, held back from her face by a headband with a flower on it, and wide, sea green eyes. She looked about fearfully as the woman led her over to two of the sisters and began speaking to them in hushed tones.

Right on time, the boy thought to himself. He had heard the sisters whispering about the girl in the news, saying how she had no living relatives and would be coming to live at St. Anne's until a suitable family could be found to take her in. The court-appointed social worker was to drop her off at five o'clock that afternoon. He had been waiting, eager for a chance to talk to the girl and try to get as much information as he possibly could about what had happened to her.

Seeing that the social worker was busy filling out the required paperwork, he got up from his bed and approached the girl, his bare feet slapping loudly on the stone floor with each step he took. He ran a hand back through his disheveled black hair and smoothed out the plain cotton shirt he wore, attempting to make himself look presentable, then placed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” he said once he reached the girl, giving her a small, lopsided grin. She immediately shrank back away from him, attempting to hide herself behind the woman who had brought her to the shelter. The boy frowned at her reaction, straightening his posture and reaching up to tug gently on his bottom lip, his eyes moving around the room while he thought of what he might be able to do to help set her at ease.

Thinking quickly, he ran back to his bed and grabbed the stuffed rabbit his parents had given to him, then made his way back to her. He held the rabbit out toward her, holding it by one floppy ear, and she took in his appearance once more: the messy hair, the dark eyes, his slouching posture. Her hand began reaching out for the toy, but she suddenly stopped and pulled it back, shrinking away from him even more.

“It's okay,” he assured her. “You can take it. I know you're scared, and that's why I'm giving it to you. It always helps me when I need to be brave.”

The girl seemed to think about what he had said for a moment, then nodded slightly and slowly reached for the toy, taking it from his hand and holding it tightly to her chest as she whispered a thank you.

“My name's L,” the boy told her, taking a few cautious steps toward her. She didn't try to move farther away from him, and for that he was glad.

“That's not a name,” she told him, her voice quiet and unsure.

“It's my name,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to one side as he looked at her. Her eyes were such an unusual shade of green-grey, and they reminded him of when the sisters had taken him and some of the other children to the beach the previous summer.

“What's your name?” he asked her, though he already knew the answer.

“Mia,” she answered, raising the stuffed rabbit in her arms slightly to hide her face behind its head.

“I heard about what happened to your mom,” L whispered to her so the adults standing nearby wouldn't hear. “I'm sorry.” She looked away from him, and he saw tears forming in her eyes as he began to speak once more. “I never knew my mom, you know. She and my dad died when I was just a baby. You're lucky. I'm sure you have lots of memories of your mom.”

Mia nodded, still not looking at him, and a couple of tears broke free as she blinked.

“Maybe you could tell me some stories about her sometime. I've always wanted to know what having a mom would be like.”

She finally turned her eyes back to him again, and he gave her a small smile. “Don't cry, Mia. Someday I'm going to be a detective, and I'll find the men who hurt your mom and make sure they're brought to justice.”

London, England – Ten Years Later

Mia Harper stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her dorm room door, letting out a small sigh as she pulled her long, blonde hair back into a loose ponytail. She wondered when she had gone from having pure blonde locks to ones that were almost dark enough to be considered brown, but shrugged it off as one of he many side-effects of growing up.

“Not like he'd recognize you anyway,” she said to herself, glancing down at the modest amount of cleavage showing through her top. Satisfied with her appearance, she crossed the room to her school-issued bed and picked up the stuffed rabbit she still kept before sitting down and placing the toy in her lap. A smile tugged at her lips as she straightened the tiny vest it was wearing and she remembered the day she had first met the odd little boy with a letter for a name – the first and only friend she had made at St. Anne's.

At first, she had been reluctant to socialize with him. She was still traumatized from her mother's murder, and the boy had been so... strange, that she wasn't sure that she felt entirely uncomfortable around him. Something about him – the way he insisted on sitting in a crouching position no matter where he was, his constant staring and slouching, the way he always went barefoot – just made her uncomfortable.

But he had been persistent, claiming over and over that he was going to be some great detective when he grew up one minute, then asking her questions about her mother the next. Eventually, she found herself opening up to the boy and telling him about every little thing she remembered. He just listened, staring at her with that thoughtful look on his face as he traced his bottom lip with his thumb, and she was surprised to discover that talking actually made her feel... better.

The two of them ended up becoming close friends. When she began having nightmares about her mother's death, he had let her sleep in his bed with him, even though they both got in trouble with the sisters for it the next morning. He would read to her while the other children played, telling her stories from grown-up books with no pictures. Occasionally, she would drag him outside and insist he swing with her on the small playground behind the orphanage. They exchanged presents at Christmas and cards on Valentine's Day, and he made her a picture frame for her birthday. The frame had fallen apart within a week, but she still had the picture – a photograph one of the sisters had taken of the two of them as they were reading one day.

Then, a couple of months after her birthday, a man had come to the orphanage to speak with the sisters...

He called himself Quillsh Wammy – an even stranger name than L's, she thought – and told them he was opening a special home for intellectually gifted children. Upon hearing this, Mia immediately thought of L. He was certainly smart – a lot smarter than any of the other children at the orphanage, herself included. When she realized, though, that this man meant to take L away from St. Anne's, she immediately ran to her friend and told him, begging him to hide so he couldn't be taken away.

L didn't hide, though. Instead, he decided to have a talk with the man, and to Mia's dismay he announced that he was leaving to go stay at this special home. Mia yelled at him and cried, and begged him again not to go, but his mind was already made up. The man told the sisters he would be back in one week to pick up L, and Mia spent most of that week sulking and refusing to talk to him. He was supposed to be her best friend, and he was going to leave her. After five days, L came over to her bed and sat down on it in his odd, crouching manner, staring at her much like he had after she first arrived.

“Please don't be angry, Mia,” he said, resting his hands on his knees and leaning forward in an attempt to see her face, which she had turned away from him once he sat beside her. “I still want to be friends.”

“But you're leaving,” she replied, her voice tiny and strained as she struggled to keep from crying.

“I know... But I'll write. Every week. I promise... Will you write me back?”

She didn't answer him, didn't look at him until he grabbed the rabbit from her pillow and held it out in front of her, dangling it by one floppy ear.

“Be brave? For me?” he requested, and she finally turned to face him as she took the toy from his hand. She was crying again, but she managed to nod an agreement. L hesitated, then leaned toward her and put his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

“Promise you'll never forget me,” she whispered to him as she hugged him back.

“Only if you promise not to forget me,” he requested, in turn...

She hadn't forgotten him, and for the first year and a half they wrote each other constantly. Mr. Wammy took L to all sorts of places while the special home was being planned and built in England, and L sent her pictures and postcards from the many destinations he visited. She felt like her letters couldn't possibly be as interesting to him as his were to her, but whenever he wrote back his responses to everything she told him were enthusiastic, even if her only news was that she had learned to read a new word.

Then, when she was nine years old, she was adopted by a doctor and his wife. She wasn't sure how she would feel about having a new family, but Matthew and Rebecca Harper had been kind, generous people and they welcomed her into their life with open arms and warm hearts. She began going to a real school – quite unlike the small one the sisters ran for the children at the orphanage – and made several new friends within the first couple of weeks.

Her life was looking up, but even as things were taking a turn for the better for her, she began slacking on her communications with L. She would often not write back until after she had received two, three, or even four of his letters. Then the Harpers had relocated to another state, taking Mia with them, and the letters simply stopped. She never knew if it was a matter of them not being forwarded properly, or if L had given up on her. Maybe she would find out, though.

In all honesty, she hadn't thought about him much in the past few years, but then Matthew had decided to move the family back to his native England and open up his own private medical practice there. At the very mention of the proposed move, Mia thought of L – more specifically, of the special home that Mr. Wammy had been planning to build in England. Even though she knew it was probably a long shot, a part of her hoped that maybe she would be able to locate L and get back in touch with him again.

Her first two months of searching had proven fruitless, for all she had to go on was his first name, and searching the local phone and address directories for someone named “L” inevitably gave her the name of every person who either went by that first initial or had names that started with the letter L. She had nearly given up hope when one day, as she was getting ready to move into the dormitory at the boarding school the Harpers had enlisted her in, something caught her eye. She was carefully wrapping pictures in newspaper when she found herself staring at a photo on the front page of the sports section.

George Hendsley and L. Lawliet, read the caption beneath, will be competing for the junior national tennis cup in the final round this Sunday.

Mia's breath had caught in her throat as she simply stared at the picture. He was older, and taller, but it was him. He had the same messy, dark hair, the same slouched posture... and though the photograph only showed the top half of his body, she was willing to bet he was barefoot, as well.

Mia turned slightly on the bed and picked up the newspaper article. She had carefully cut it out of the paper and brought it with her when she moved into her dorm the previous day so she wouldn't forget to attend his championship match.

She hadn't told anyone of her plans to attend the match, partly because she was afraid she was getting her expectations to high just by attending. After all, ten years was a long time, and while they had exchanged letters, they had never traded pictures. He might not have changed much in the time since they last saw one another, but she certainly had. She'd grown up and filled out and her hair had changed color. It wasn't likely he would remember her anyway, even if he did recognize her, but she still wanted to see him again.

“I could never forget you, L,” she whispered as she traced her fingertips over his picture in the article. “But do you even remember me?”

Continue...

P.S. - Those unfamiliar with Death Note, read more about it here.

Snowman by ladyakrai

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 07:37:34 GMT

I can't take credit for this, because I didn't write it, but I wanted to share it anyway. This was my Christmas present from my buddy ladykarai from FanFiction.net. Thanks, doll!

Title: Snowman
For: ParisWriter
Game: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: K+
Description: Rude spends some time with Reno's family on a vacation at Icicle Inn.

Karai's comments: Oh man, I had way too much fun writing this. Thank you, Paris, for Reno's great family. Cera is his other half, and at this point no one can convince me otherwise. I really hope 2007 treats you well because you deserve it. Oh, and yes, the Christmas present incident is taken from my own life except it was my daughter, her grandmother, and a nightgown instead of a hat.

"Unca Wude?"

Rude looked up from his newspaper to meet the bright eyes of Leena, Reno's little girl. She stood next to him expectantly, the top of her head not even reaching his armpits even though he was sitting.

"Yes?" he said to her.

She raised a hand and pointed to the window. Outside the snow fell steadily, but then again, it was always snowing at Icicle Inn. Or at least it was whenever Rude decided to vacation there.

"Wanna build a 'noman," Leena informed him seriously.

"Um … that's nice?" he faltered. He wasn't entirely used to Leena even though he saw her often enough. It wasn't as if he didn't like her -- she had a sweet disposition, undoubtedly inherited from her mother -- but he didn't really know how to behave around four-year-olds. Especially vivacious four-year-olds who expected him to play with them.

Leena's brows drew together at his response. "No," she insisted, clearly attempting to get her point across. "Wanna go owside. Wanna build a 'noman!"

"Um …" Rude repeated, wishing and praying to every deity he could think of that Reno were here to help. Ah, yes. That would work. Tilting his head a bit to look at the girl, he asked, "If you want to go outside, I think you should get your daddy's permission first."

She blinked at him a bit, processing this information. Then, she nodded, apparently agreeing, turned, and hollered at the top of her lungs, "DADDY!"

Rude flinched at the volume although he shouldn't have been surprised. Apparently the girl had inherited more from her father than just the flaming red hair. The man in question appeared almost instantly at the door to their room, cringing at his daughter's outburst.

"Leena! Shhhhh! Mommy and the baby are resting!"

"Sowwy," she replied sincerely as he crossed the room to kneel down in front of her.

"It's okay, honey," Reno assured her, smoothing her hair. "What do you need?"

The girl's face brightened immediately, and she reached out and grabbed Rude's hand. "Wanna go owside and build a 'noman. Wif Unca Wude. Okay, Daddy?"

Reno raised his eyes to his partner in a silent question. In response, Rude tried to convey with just his expression the absolute terror he felt at the prospect of having to entertain anyone under the age of twenty. Reno smirked at Rude's obvious discomfort and for a moment he was afraid his partner would abandon him to his doom, but thankfully Reno took pity on him. "That sounds like fun, sweetheart. Can I come, too?"

"Sure, Daddy!" She dropped Rude's hand and ran straight for the front door of the inn.

"Leena!" Reno called after her. "Your coat!"

She skidded to a halt and immediately began running in the other direction, leaving Rude to wonder why laws of physics never seemed to affect small people. The three of them spent the next few minutes bundling up in coats, gloves, hats, and scarves. They were about to exit into the snow when Rude realized he had neglected to get a hat for himself.

"Just a moment," he said to Reno, one hand lifting to his bald head automatically. "I need a hat."

"I get it!" Leena cried excitedly, but instead of going to the coat closet, she ran over to the small Christmas tree that the inn had set up for its guests. Cera had placed a few presents under the tree when they arrived, and now Leena grabbed a small box covered in red and green paper. Reno, upon seeing what she was doing, attempted to stop her, but she trotted straight up to Rude and pushed the box into his hands with a smile. He looked over to Reno with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh … heh heh … Merry Christmas?" Reno stammered, giving him an apologetic look.

"Can I open it?" Leena asked innocently. Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of opening a present, even if the object inside wasn't for her. Rude wordlessly handed her the box, and she ripped the paper off eagerly. With that accomplished, she thrust the box back into Rude's hands and had taken three steps towards the rest of the presents, a hungry gleam in her eyes, before her father grabbed her and hefted her up into his arms.

"No, sweetheart," he said desperately. "Those have to wait until Christmas."

"Awwww …"

While Reno continued his attempt to explain to his daughter the virtue of delayed gratification, Rude lifted the lid of the box and looked at the object inside. It was a hat. A red hat. A fuzzy red hat. With little straps on the sides to be pulled under the chin and tied. And it had a pom-pom on the top. Rude turned his attention to Reno and just stared.

Reno's face clearly showed his sympathy for his partner's plight, but his next sentence explained everything. "Leena picked it out for you."

"Oh." He shifted his eyes to the smiling little girl and managed, "Thank you, Leena."

"Welcome," she chirped. Then, she grabbed her father by the ear and repeated, "Wanna go owside, Daddy!"

"Okay, okay," he laughed at her. "Let's go." He walked briskly to the door, still carrying Leena in his arms. Rude stared at the hat for a while longer before finally removing it from the box and placing it on his head. He silently followed after the other two.

Outside, Leena ordered her father and her "uncle" about as she perched on a nearby wall like a queen upon her throne. "Daddy, za belly's not big enuff. Do it summore. Unca Wude, za head's too big."

"Can't we just switch them?" Reno asked the little royal hopefully.

"No! You doing za belly, and Unca Wude doing za head."

"Well, if we switch snowballs, then we can still --"

"Nooooooo!!"

"Okay, honey, okay!" He threw up his gloved hands in defeat and went back to pushing the snowball along the ground in an attempt to make it bigger. Rude just smirked at his partner and knocked some extra snow off of his ball. He idly wondered what his coworkers would think if they saw the two battle-hardened Turks willingly at the mercy of a miniature dictator in a pink snowsuit with little bunnies all over it. Probably laugh until they injured themselves.

Once the belly and the head of the snowman-in-progress were checked and approved by the chief, Rude hefted the smaller ball on top of the larger and squashed it down slightly so it would stay. Leena examined it for a minute and then nodded and jumped down to the ground. She trotted over and gave her father two rocks that she had found. "For za eyes," she informed him solemnly. While he put the rocks in as told, she went over to a nearby bush and rooted around until she found two decent-sized sticks. Those went into the sides of the body as arms and a brief trip back into the inn produced a carrot for the nose.

The three snowman-makers stood back from their creation and looked at it for a bit in silence. Finally, Leena commented, "He looks cold." She took her own scarf off and draped it around the snowman's neck. Rude watched Reno bite down on his lip and guessed the other man was stopping himself from protesting. After all, what was one scarf when weighed with the happy childhood that neither man had been lucky enough to have?

"He still looks cold," Leena announced after another moment. She turned to the two grown-ups and frowned at them in frustration. When her eyes met Rude's, her young face gradually broke out into a small smile. Rude contemplated her expression for a moment until out of nowhere he realized what she was thinking. And he smiled as well.

Fifteen minutes later, Rude had reclaimed his spot at the table, newspaper in one hand and a steaming cup of hot chocolate in the other. Reno and Leena sat curled up on the floor, each with a hot chocolate of their own, reading from a book of fairy tales that Cera had bought the girl for her last birthday. Outside, the snow continued to fall quietly, gently blanketing the town with a soft layer of white.

And just outside the inn stood a plump snowman kept warm by a small pink scarf and a fuzzy red hat with a pom-pom on top.

A Fun Little Meme

Tue, 28 Nov 2006 14:34:58 GMT

Okay, I stole this from

dragons_f_wolf, just for the hell of it. What you read herein may just surprise you. Then again, maybe it won't.

10 things currently on your desk:
My Gackt CDs
My reading glasses (which I never use)
Sims 2 Pets box
The little blue plastic flowery cup I put my pills in every day
Unopened Vampire Fangs kit
A bottle of Germ-X
A tube of Chamomile Rose body cream
About half a dozen little packs of Sweet Tarts from my sister's Halloween candy
A black Sharpie marker
A cooling fan for my computer that I need to have my dad install

9 favorite ships:
Reno/Cera (duh)
Rude/Tifa
Tseng/Elena
Vincent/Yuffie
Ron/Hermione
House/Cameron
Satoru/Rory
Justin/Leena
Kaleb/Senna

(the last three are all from the FFVII Next-Gen world butterflys_ficsand I came up with. I couldn't decide out of all of the pairings which one I liked best, so I used my top three.)

8 of your current favorite songs:
Matchbox Twenty - Downfall (there's just something about a rock song with a gospel choir that makes me fall in love)
Gackt - Storm
Nine Inch Nails - The Becoming (Still version - The song where the name for the Reno fic I'm planning came from)
Jesse McCartney - Right Where You Want Me (go ahead and laugh, it's catchy!)
The Killers - When You Were Young
Goldfrapp - Strict Machine (the song from the commercial for the Chocolate phone when it first came out)
Groove Armada - Madder
My Chemical Romance - Dead

(This was very hard to do, because I'm a music nut and I have a lot of favorites. So in order to decide, I looked at my MP3 player to see what I've been playing the most lately. All of these songs are available for those who may be curious, since I own the CDs they're on. Just leave a comment with which ones you'd like to hear and I'll upload them.)

7 people you talk to the most:
Mom
Dad
Vikki (my sister)
Dr. Dy (my nephrologist)
Becky
Jayna
Randy

6 favorite kinds of candy and/or chocolate:
Cadbury Dairy Milk Bars
Vanilla Tootsie Rolls
Sour Cherries (the kind you buy by-the-pound, which I can't find anywhere around here any more)
Barley Sugar lollipops (a christmas tradition)
Cherry Cordial Hershey's Kisses
Wolfgang Candies' Raspberry Petals

5 favorite artists/bands:
Gackt
Depeche Mode
Tori Amos
My Chemical Romance
Breaking Benjamin (for the moment, this last one changes almost weekly)

4 websites you visit daily:
Fanfiction.net
World of Warcraft
Yahoo! Mail
Google

3 favorite fictional characters:
Reno
Dr. Gregory House
Remus Lupin (c'mon, I named my cat after him)

2 favorite sayings:
"The Yaoi Way!" (Inside joke between me and my sister, but any Quinton Flynn fan probably recognizes the quote.)
"I'm deceptively cute. Makes it easy for me to sneak up behind you, steal your shit, then kill you." (Me, describing my gnome rogue that I play on WoW. I've ended up saying the first part in conversations that had nothing to do with the game, though.)

1 favorite movie:
Dogma

(This one was very hard to decide. It was a toss up between Dogma and at least a half-dozen other movies I love to death. In the end, I had to go with the one that fit me best, personally.)

Reno: Mother

Tue, 31 Oct 2006 13:19:56 GMT

Just to clear up any confusion: The Leena in this story is not Reno and Cera's daughter. It's the woman she's named after.

Title: Mother
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters: Reno, Leena Auchenleck
Word Count: 916
Rating: G
Summary: Reno's mother died when he was twelve years old...

Mother

Leena Auchenleck was dying. She could feel it. Her strength was gone, and each breath was slowly becoming harder to take. She turned her head slightly to look at her twelve-year-old son, a small smile gracing her pale, thin lips.

“Reno, sweetie,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Could you get me a glass of water?”

“Yes, Mom,” the redheaded boy answered with a nod, jumping up from the stool he'd placed next to her bed and running to fetch the drink she'd requested.

Her smile turned sad as she watched him. He was a little short for his age and almost painfully thin, and she blamed herself for it. She had fallen ill almost four years ago and hadn't been able to work for most of that time. Reno did what he could to help support them, everything from running errands for people to picking pockets at the train station, but he was still a child and she wished so much more for him than the life of petty crime he was sure to have after her death.

“Here, Mom,” he said when he returned and placed a hand behind her head, lifting her up slightly as he brought the cup to her lips and helped her take a sip of water.

Reno couldn't help but notice that his mother seemed sadder than usual, and wondered if she was getting near the end. The healers had told her that without treatment, the disease would be fatal, and even at the age of eight he had known what that meant.

He loved his mother. She was all he had. His father, Martin, had walked out on them when he was three years old, and she had worked three jobs in order to keep food on the table and clothes on his back. Things were fine, for a while, and they were happy in spite of being poor. But then she had stared feeling sick a lot, and he finally convinced her to see a healer to find out what was wrong.

The next four years were a slow decline for her, and Reno had no choice but to watch as the life slowly drained from her. They were too poor to afford the treatments she needed to get better. After six months, she lost her ability to walk, and with that she had lost her jobs. They lived off the gil she had kept squirreled away over the years, but it had only lasted a few short months.

His mother tried to convince him to leave her and go look for his father so that he could have a normal life, but he refused to abandon her, especially when she needed him so much. Besides, he knew his father didn't want him. So he remained at her bedside, reading to her, cooking her simple meals of noodles or rice, feeding and bathing her when she lost the strength in her arms. He watched as she grew sicker each day, the beauty he remembered fading under the weight of her illness.

She was almost paler than the sheet that was pulled to her chin, her brown eyes lacking the sparkle they had once had. Her hair, red like his own, seemed dull – no longer the vibrant shade he remembered. Her body had grown thin, and he swore she'd shrunk a bit since she first got sick. But through it all, she kept smiling. Even when he knew she was in so much pain she couldn't stand it, she smiled for him. He knew she was just trying to be brave for his sake, but it hurt him ever time he saw her smile.

“Sweetie, I want you to listen to me,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper. She tried to move her arm so she could take his hand in hers, but barely managed to get her own hand off the bed. Reno saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, though, and eagerly grasped her cold, thin hand. Tears sprang to his eyes as her fingers curled weakly around his. She already felt like death.

“No matter what,” she told him, her voice shaking slightly, “I want you to promise me you'll take care of yourself. I don't want to leave this world without knowing you'll do your best to survive.”

Reno nodded, the tears in his blue eyes spilling over quietly. “I'll try... But I'm gonna miss you, yo.”

“I know, sweetie,” she told him, her own eyes filling with tears. “But I will always watch over you.”

“I'm scared, though,” he said, holding her hand tighter. “I don't wanna be alone.”

“You won't be,” she assured him. “I promise you. One day, when you're older, I'll send you someone to love.”

“How will I know?” he asked innocently.

“You'll know,” she replied, nodding slightly.

“I love you, Mom,” he told her.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispered, her eyes falling closed.

Reno sat there and sobbed silently as he watched her. Her lips, chapped and pale, quivered slightly as she struggled to breathe. Her chest rose and fell slowly, shaking a bit with each ragged gasp he took. Her grip on his hand tightened briefly, then she let go as she took one final, shuddering breath. Then she was still.

He laid his head on her chest and cried out quietly when he couldn't hear her heart beating any more. His mother was gone, and he was alone.

Justin/Leena: Falling Into You (1/?)

Mon, 30 Oct 2006 19:26:57 GMT

Title: Falling Into You
Rating: R
Main Pairing: Justin Takarai/Leena Auchenleck
Genre: Romance, drama, suspense
Warnings: Language, Violence, Sex, Alcohol, Drug Use
Summary: A childhood crush comes back to haunt Justin when he starts training to become a Turk. He thought he'd gotten over Leena, but when it becomes apparent his feelings for her run deeper than mere friendship, he has a choice to make: Ignore what his heart is trying to tell him, or attempt to make her see that she feels the same way about him.

Chapter One

“Come on, Justin, are you going to open it, or just stand there staring at it all day?”

Benjamin Takarai quirked a dark blonde eyebrow above one of his blue eyes as he watched his brother standing there with the letter from ShinRa in his hands. Justin, the oldest of the three sons of the company's president, Tseng Takarai, had applied for a spot on the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department, also know as the Turks. Being that he was the son of the president – who also happened to be head of the Turks prior to his promotion following the death of Rufus Shinra – he knew he stood a very good chance at being accepted, but a part of him still wondered if he had done well enough on his initial application to be considered for training.

“It's not gonna open itself, you know,” the youngest of the Takarai children pointed out as he once again urged his bother to get the suspense over with.

“Ben, ease off,” came the softer voice of the middle son, Satoru. “I'm sure your insistence is not helping his nerves any. Let him do it on his own.”

Justin turned his head and smirked at Ben before giving Satoru an appreciative nod. While he loved both of his brothers, he and Satoru were undoubtedly closer than he and Ben ever would be. Ben was too much like him: bold, outgoing, flirtatious. Spending time with him was like spending time with a mirror image of himself, albeit one that was blonde, rather than dark-haired like he was. Satoru, on the other hand, could practically be his twin aside from the color of their eyes. Justin's eyes, like Ben's, were a clear share of blue. Satoru's were brown, like their parents'.

Their connection went deeper than simply looking alike, however. Satoru was the voice of reason amongst the three of them, the shy one who spent most of his time quietly thinking and writing something or other in a leather-bound journal he almost always carried with him. He was the one Justin always went to for advice, or if he just needed someone to talk to, and the one Justin trusted most with his secrets. All three of them had a strong bond, however, forged by their own father's strong feelings about home and family.

“Boys, dinner's ready!” Elena called to her three sons from the bottom of the stairs. The brothers gave each other a look, inwardly cringing at the announcement. Their mother, for as much as they loved her, was a horrible cook. Yet she still insisted on preparing a family dinner herself once a week. Luckily, their father did most of the cooking at home and always made enough so that there were leftovers to save for the nights his wife took over the kitchen.

Justin folded the unopened envelope and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans before heading downstairs, his brothers following in his wake. They were surprised when they reached the dining room and found food that actually looked edible on the table, waiting for them. The aroma of what appeared to be one of their father's favorite Wutaian dishes wafted to their noses and made their stomachs growl.

“Damn, I didn't know Dad was cooking tonight,” Ben remarked. “I wouldn't have eaten such a big lunch.”

“Your father didn't cook,” Elena corrected her youngest son, giving him a scolding look. “I did.”

The three of them exchanged disbelieving looks before taking their seats at the table, then waited for their mother to finish bringing the food out and sit down in her own seat by their father before digging in.

“Are you sure this isn't takeout?” Ben asked as he bent over his plate and sniffed the food. It lacked the usual scent of their mother's overly-charred cooking attempts.

“Benjamin, stop,” Tseng ordered sternly. “Your mother worked very hard to make this meal. You will appreciate it without making such rude comments.”

Elena blushed slightly at her husband standing up for her and tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind one ear.

“It's alright, honey,” she told him. “I know I'm not a very good cook.” She smiled at him before turning to her children. “Your Aunt Yuffie helped me with the preparations. All I really had to do was cook it.”

“That explains it,” Ben muttered under his breath before taking a bite.

“It's delicious, Mother,” Satoru commented, hoping she hadn't heard Ben's remark.

“Thank you, Satoru.” Elena replied with a smile as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “So what did you boys do today?”

Satoru shrugged and Justin ignored the question, keeping his eyes glued to his plate as he continued eating.

“Justin got a letter from ShinRa today.”

“Ben,” Justin growled a warning to his youngest brother, his grip tightening on his fork.

“Was it about your application to join the Turks?” Tseng asked. Justin looked up from his dinner to find his entire family staring at him expectantly.

“I assume it is,” he replied, lifting another forkful of food to his mouth.

“You assume it is?” Tseng asked, raising an eyebrow at his oldest son's choice of words.

“He's been too scared to open it,” Ben told them with a self-satisfied smirk. Justin sent a glare his way, which only caused the blonde Takarai son to grin even more.

“Well, then, why not open it now?” his father suggested, setting his silverware down and folding his hands as he watched him expectantly.

Justin sighed heavily, dropping his own fork onto his plate with a clatter and reaching into his back pocket to retrieve the letter. He unfolded the envelope and slid a finger under the corner of the flap, then paused at looked at his parents.

“You guys won't be disappointed if I didn't get accepted, right?” he asked them. Both of his parents had been Turks, and he didn't want to let them down by not having what it took to follow in their footsteps.

“You know we'll always love you no matter what, Justin,” his mother assured him with a gentle smile, and he nodded once before tearing open the envelope and removing the letter inside.

“Well?” Ben prompted as Justin's eyes moved across the page, reading the words printed in bold, block letters.

Justing simply folded the letter and returned it to the envelope before placing it on the table next to his plate and looking pointedly at his father.

“I got in.”

Gay Rights

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 19:40:10 GMT

Gay Rights

"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?" - Ernest Gaines

We would like to know who really believes in gay rights on LiveJournal. There is no bribe of a miracle or anything like that. If you truly believe in gay rights, then repost this and title the post as "Gay Rights". If you don't believe in gay rights, then just ignore this. Thanks.

Reno says: "Spread the word, yo."