Lightsider opened the UFL Hospital lobby doors and took a few deep breaths of Megatokyo air. After seeing Tohru to her apartment, he had reported to IntelliAyanami, as Meagen had gone to pick up supplies in a neighboring city the day before, and hadn’t returned yet. Intelli had taken him into her office, commended him on his hard work, reminded him he still had five days of leave left, and then kicked him out again.

The doctor walked out, too tired to enjoy the warmth of the evening sun. He sat down on the curb in front of the UFL, and was staring blankly at the traffic when a familiar face approached him. Despite his fatigue, Lightsider smiled. “Draegos! It’s been a bit. How have you been?”

Draegos paused . “Hey, Doc,” he drawled in a distinctly Texan accent. The young leader of the Yuki Liberation Front smiled. “You look like hell.”

Lightsider grimaced. “Good to see you too.” He motioned his head at the waning chaos behind him. “The Head Nurse is away, you know.” Now it was Draegos’ turn to grimace. He and Meagen had been quite affectionate as of late, and they’d both taken some good natured teasing because of it.

“Yeah, I know,” the Yukifan said. “Heard about some trouble here, and I wondered if y’all needed help.”

Lightsider shook his head. “It was a viral outbreak. No casualties, though. We got lucky.”

Draegos sat down next to the good doctor and gave him a brief grin, but immediately turned his attention to the street again when he noticed that Lightsider seemed lost in thought.

Draegos nodded.

He watched a car go by.

He shrugged.

Another car went by.

Draegos turned to Lightsider. “So, who is she?”

Lightsider snapped out of his reverie under this unexpected question. “Who . . . what? I . . . what are you talking about?”

Draegos looked off into the distance. “This other girl. Who is she?”

“Other girl? You mean Tohru?”

The Yuki fanboy rolled his eyes and looked over at Lightsider. “No, the other woman. The one you’re sitting here moping about.”

Lightsider colored a bit. “I’m not moping about her. She’s just a . . . a . . . an acquaintance,” he stuttered.

“Oh, absolutely! It’s every day I find myself so depressed over an acquaintance that I can’t even do my job.” Draegos shook his head. “Just how acquainted are you with her?”

Lightsider grunted in annoyance. “I do my job just fine. Shadowdancer just took me to dinner last night by way of apology.” Lightsider glared at Draegos. “That’s all.”

“That’s all.”

Draegos nodded.

He watched a car go by.

He looked out into the street.

Another car went by, in the opposite direction. It was a nice midsize sedan.

Draegos looked at the good doctor again. “Okay, enough with the bull. What’re you gonna do?”

“Do about what? She’s a friend, nothing else. Tohru is the only . . . uh . . . I mean . . . she’s . . . .” Lightsider looked at Draegos helplessly. There was a “victory grin” on the Yukifan’s face.

“Yeah . . . ? Go on. You can say it. It won’t kill you, ya know.”

Lightsider sighed in defeat. “She’s the one I love. There, you dragged it out of me. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Draegos’ victory grin melted into one of approval. “Yeah, it was. Was it really that hard to make the choice?”

Lightsider surged to his feet and glared at the YLF leader. “Choice? Choice?! Who ever said there was a choice between the two?!”

Draegos ducked his head and put up his hands in a calming gesture. “Hey, sorry. Sorry. I just meant, was it really that hard to admit you love her?”

Lightsider slumped back down to the curb. “You know, it is. It’s been a long time since I’d even thought it was possible.”

Draegos shrugged. “Hey, I was the same way until I ran into the business end of the mallet of a particular Head Nurse.”

Lightsider looked up. “Yeah? But . . . you know, the armor . . . the coat . . . I thought you had them swarming all over you . . . .”

Draegos’ armor seemed to have gotten a bit tight around the neck. He tried to pry it away from his throat. “Err . . . well . . . actually,” he shook his head. “Anyway, what about this other girl, this ‘Shadow’? Why’re you tearing yourself up over eating out with her, if she’s ‘just an acquaintance’?”

Lightsider colored a bit. “Ah, well. Yeah, that. You see, I passed out during the meal, for . . . some reason, and she was nice enough to take me home. She stayed with me all night, making sure I was okay . . . and when I woke up, she was still there.”

Draegos nodded.

“And, well, this is the hard part. I was able to look at her without my glasses.”

Draegos leaned back a bit and gave a low whistle. He knew of the doctor’s condition. “Awkward situation, that.”

“And then . . . and then Tohru came in . . . and . . . . I dunno . . . it’s kinda confusing.” Lightsider lapsed into another silence.

Draegos frowned. “What’d Tohru do? She just bottled up and said it was okay, didn’t she? Said she ‘understood’ or something, right?”

Lightsider tilted his head back to look at the sky. “Yeah. No hammers or fans or anything,” he said. “And for some reason, that’s the part that really, really makes me feel guilty. And I don’t even know why.”

Draegos nodded.

They both watched a 1957 cotton-candy blue Chevy Bel-Air convertible cruise by.

Draegos glanced at Lightsider again.

He watched a bird fly by the power poles.

“You screwed up, dude,” he finally said. “Sure would’ve been easier if she’d exploded and gotten mad at you, wouldn’t it? Then you could just console yourself by saying it was as much her fault as yours, huh?”

Draegos locked eyes with the doctor. “D’ya think Tohru’s the type to do that, though? Happy-go-lucky kid like her . . . . Would she carry a grudge like that?”

“Tohru? She . . . . I mean . . . .” Lightsider buried his head in his hands. “No. She wouldn’t.”

Draegos lifted one eyebrow. “So what d’you think she’s feeling right now?”

Lightsider groaned. “She’s in love. With me.”

Draegos rolled his eyes. “Okay, we’re homin’ in on your problem, I think. What do you think she’s feeling after seeing this Shadow girl in your house?.”

In that instant, Lightsider felt like dirt. Worse, even. “Betrayed.”

Draegos sighed, and pantomimed a huge slump of relief, leaning on the curb with a hand. “Well, finally! Took you frellin’ long enough! Stop thinking so long-term. ‘S depressing . . . .”

Draegos put his hand on Lightsider’s shoulder paternally, which was fairly ironic, had the doctor stopped to think about it. He was probably older than the YLF leader by at least 450 years. “So, know what the next question’s gonna be, hmmmm . . .?”

“What am I going to do next?”

Draegos raised his hands to the heavens. “Well strike me dead! He gets it!”

Lightsider grinned, in spite of himself, at Draegos’ overreaction. He understood in that moment why he was a leader of men. Draegos could see solutions to problems that people didn’t even know they had.

Draegos had a mock-serious face on. “Have an answer yet?”

“I need to show Tohru that she doesn’t ever need to feel alone again?” Lightsider ventured.

Draegos looked impressed. “That works. Or you could just talk to her . . . . Oh, you can’t do that, what’m I saying..?” He rolled his eyes humorously.

“Hey, now!” Lightsider protested. “I can talk to her!”

Draegos gave a ‘ooh, big man gonna get pushy’ face. “Prove it. I dares ya! ‘Cause you haven’t done much of it lately, that’s obvious!”

Lightsider nearly got up then and there to march right back into the UFL. But, then he remembered how exhausted Tohru had been. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, first thing.”

Draegos slumped. “Okay, let’s start again . . . .”

fe

Shadowdancer hopped out of the patrol car and waved goodbye to the Inspector. He’d given her a ride back to the Church after their fairly relaxing dinner at a nearby beer garden that also served full meals. After her exertions, she was ravenous, and put away an amount of food that made the stoic cop blink in astonishment. They got into a conversation about the use of magic and a mage’s physical needs in terms of energy consumption. Shadowdancer conjured a small example of a spell and made a little ball of light dance across the table.

Even with the amount of food she’d eaten, she still felt hungry. Fortunately, she had something to eat at her quarters. She stepped into the Church’s rave hall, the ‘Cave of Evil’ and was mildly surprised to find it empty. There were new laser lights being installed, and some strobes were being set up on the ceiling. Some dance music was playing, but only softly.

“Oi, Kage-chan[1]! I’ve been looking all over for you!” a voice called from behind the DJ’s box.

Shadowdancer smiled. “You’re the only one who can get away with that nickname, Pokki.”

The DJ flashed a grin as he strode across the dance floor. “Yeah, I know. It’s because I’m too cute to be hit, right?”

“Hm!” the dark elf replied, unable to resist grinning back. “What’s up, Pokki-kun?”

“Remember you wanted me to tell you about the next rave that happens?”

“Yes, I did. Will it happen soon?”

A mischief-filled chuckle rippled through the air. “Tomorrow night, eight pm.”

“Eight pm?!” the dark elf gaped in alarm. “Pokki, you said you would tell me at least three days in advance! How am I going to find an outfit on such short notice?!”

DJ Pokki laughed, clapping his hand on her shoulder at her dismay. “Kage-chan, if anyone can come up with a stylish outfit on short notice, it’s you.”

Shadowdancer opened her mouth to retort, when a voice spoke from behind the stage curtain. “Hey, Pokki-san. They're all done with the ground rigging.”

fe

“Hoturi, hand me that roll of tape, would you?” Manta asked while holding a light stand up. Doji Hoturi grabbed the tape off the floor and handed it to his friend. All around them, CoM volunteers were helping to set up for a major rave the next night. Manta and Hoturi had been pressed into helping as well.

“There. That’s the last one. Go tell Pokki, would you? I want to double check the rest of the crews.” Manta said as he stepped back from the stand. With a nod, Hoturi looked around, seeing where Pokki was. The last place he’d seen the DJ had been by the door, but Hoturi thought he’d heard his voice coming from the other side of the violet curtain on the stage. “Hey, Pokki-san, they’re all done with the ground rigging.” Hoturi said as he reached the curtain.

“Have they used enough duct tape to hold it all down this time?” Pokki’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. Hoturi’s mouth opened in reply, when Manta’s voice came from behind me.

“Oh yeah, ain’t nothing coming loose this time.” He said as he came up beside his friend. Hoturi turned to him and frowned. “You said that last time, and we almost got one of the guest’s hit by a lam . . . .” I trailed off as I stuck my head through the curtain.

Standing next to Pokki was the most radiant beauty Hoturi had ever seen. She had skin the color of cafe au lait, and her hair, the color of molten copper, was done up in an alluring foxtail. But it was her eyes, midnight blue eyes with starlike silver specks that held his attention.

“Pokki-kun, you were still supposed to tell me at least three days in advance.” She was saying. Her voice seemed like velvet, with a hint of steel underneath.

“I’m sorry, but things just kind of got busy all of a sudden.” Pokki shrugged. Then he noticed Hoturi’s head sticking out from the curtain. “Ah, Kage-chan, let me introduce Doji Hoturi, Knight of the Second Order.”

fe

Manta grunted slightly, as he looked at the particular rig he was working on. That only happened once. Besides, it was only a small lamp stand. Can’t have been more than, what, six ‘cans’ on it? Manta thought to himself as he used his foot to smooth down a strip of slightly curling duct tape that covered that stands power cables.

He grinned a little, Would have been a little hot though by that time of night. Happy with the finished rig, he turned to see where Hoturi had run off to.

A distinctive, but unknown voice drew his attention to Hoturi’s silhouette against the stage curtain. He started walking over, Pokki’s voice audible over the closing distance. “Ah, Kage-chan, let me introduce Doji Hoturi, Knight of the Second Order.”

In the moment of silence that followed, Manta gently eased through the curtain, “Everything’s down tight Pokki-san.” He said, coming through the curtain, to stand beside Hoturi.

Seeing his entrance, Pokki continued. “And the other lad would be Manta, our very own Dark Templar.” He lowered his voice to her alone. “But they’re both a pair of troublemakers”.

Shadowdancer looked at them both. Troublemakers, Pokki-san . . . ? Really . . . . For some reason, she blushed, and was glad for her dark skin. She swept into a bow to cover her discomfiture. “Shadowdancer Duskstar, Mage-Knight of the Third Order. It is an honor.”

Hoturi’s eyebrows went up slightly, as the lady swept into a graceful bow. He watched her smooth movements, almost entranced, but then remembered his manners. “Please, the honor is mine, dear lady,” he said, matching her bow and adding just a little more depth, then as both rose, a flicker passed between their eyes, something almost tactile.

Manta on the other hand, seemed tongue-tied, feeling almost off balanced by her simple presence.

Shadowdancer felt something pass between her and Hoturi . . . . A recognition, almost, of something . . . special in each other. My, he is handsome. A warmth spread from her chest to her fingertips and she met the subtle challenge she found in Hoturi’s eyes. Her lips curved into a soft, slightly seductive smirk.

She straightened. “Doubly for me, I assure you Milord Hoturi. I haven’t had many interactions with the other members of the Church . . . my research keeps me isolated.” She then turned to Manta and bowed again. “Milord Manta. This it is also a great honor, to meet you.”

At the directed attention, Manta recovered some of his grace. Meeting her bow he managed to speak, albeit a little stiffly, “Please, it’s an honor meeting you, Miss.” He felt stifled for a second, so went to turn the conversation from what he felt was uncomfortable formality,.

“So, are we to understand you will be joining our great rave then?” Manta asked, feeling strangely constricted in his words.

“It would be a great opportunity to cure some of that isolation,” Hoturi chimed in with a soft smile. For a brief second, Manta glanced at Hoturi, a slight tension crossed his jaw, but was gone a moment later.

“It’s the only time she comes out . . . she’s usually stuck behind a computer, doing artwork of Miho” Pokki quipped a little too cheerily to be subtle. “When she does, she’s usually alone too.”

“Now why would someone like yourself feel the need to be alone in a social scene?” Hoturi asked, masking the intent of his words with a slight mirror of surprise.

Manta hazarded a smile. “Hoturi’s right you know. As a member of the Church, I think it only right you experience the full experience of one of our Lady’s raves.” His smile turned into a slight grin as he tilted his head towards Hoturi, “And I’m sure that between us, we can find a way to help you enjoy yourself.” Manta’s smile had taken on an honest and well-meaning aspect as he faced the elfin Lady. He felt a little more fluent, as he was using Hoturi’s obvious ease as an indirect help.

The smile she returned was warm and showed that she did appreciate it. “I would love to enjoy the company of two such distinguished men.” she bowed deeply, Hoturi’s smirk deepened a bit.

Pokki glanced between the two lads, and the lady, and then with a slight knowing smile, he coughed into a fist. “Okay, you two don’t need to hang around here. You’ve done your bit for now, and can come back and finish the jobs later.” He then turned his attention to Shadow, as she raised from her bow. “Now, the three of you,” he said, waving his arms towards them, “Shoo. I’ve still got a lot to do before this place is ready for our Lady’s rave tomorrow night.”

fe

Shadowdancer briefly entertained the idea of pulling out Pokki’s goatee hair by hair. Why did he have to mention that I’m usually alone, drat him . . . . Instead, she waved goodbye and asked the two senior members of the Church where BGMaster might be found as they entered the corridor that lead into the Church proper.

“I’m not too sure.” Hoturi said, then he looked questioningly at Manta.

“Well, the last time I saw him, I think was when he was on his way to the command room. Something about a few protocol changes.” Manta then turned to the elfin woman, still looking thoughtful. “He may still be there, but if not, they might know where he went to after that.” He explained.

Shadowdancer fingered the MTCD ID suspended from her throat, a sly smile on her lips. “I believe he will want to hear my report for the day. I must see him.” She looked up at the two men and smiled brightly. “Thank you for telling me where I might find him, Manta-sama. Surely you don’t have to accompany me, Milords . . . . I’m sure you have more urgent business elsewhere . . . .”

Suddenly thrown off-balance by the smile that she bestowed on them, the two males glanced at each other, desperately trying to regroup and regain their cool.

“Ah, no.” Hoturi said first

“Of course not.” Manta said a heartbeat later.

“You saw yourself, we’ve got the day free.” Hoturi assured her.

“Can’t think of anything better to do at all.” Manta echoed.

“I’d be happy to accompany you.” The pair said at the exact same time. They blinked, then glared at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

Shadowdancer bowed. “You two do me too much honor. How could I refuse?”

“No, Milady, it is-“ Manta began.

0“-Our pleasure.” Hoturi finished, sweeping into a bow. Manta followed a split second later.

fe

Shadowdancer moved through the anteroom that led to the BGMaster’s office. Her heels clicked loudly on the black marble floor, her features illuminated by the large black candles that were set in ornate holders along the wall. Manta had spoken to BGMaster’s secretary and she had announced Shadowdancer’s request for an audience, which was quickly granted. Manta and Hoturi remained behind.

She reached the massive cast-iron doors that lead into the office itself - iron doors that were enchanted and none but those dedicated to Miho could open. They parted at her approach and silently swung outward to give her entry. Just inside the doors, she dropped into a graceful kowtow. Her hair spread about her shoulders and back like a cloak of fire, illuminated by even more candles. Despite the number of candles lit, the room was at a pleasant and comfortable temperature and would always remain so, being enchanted by a number of spells. Similarly, it changed to suit the Right Hand of Miho’s mood. Tonight, it was an austere hall, with a floor of purple-veined black marble, dominated by a massive desk and a panoramic view of the city.

“Hail BG-sama, Favored of our Queen, Miho, She who is Darkly Cute and is mistress of us all.” Shadowdancer intoned, as she lightly touched her forehead to the ground. “May she continue to bless us with her style.” Her wings burst into being from her back and laid themselves out on either side of her, contrasting sharply with the darkness around them.

“And may we continue to serve her in similitude and loyalty.” BGMaster replied from his place behind a large desk. “Rise, Shadowdancer, and please, take a seat. How have you served Lady Miho and our Church today?” The smile he gave her was warm and darkly pleasant, reminding the dark elf that she was very much in favor at the moment, with her recent service.

Shadowdancer smiled, then rose to take the velvet-cushioned, high backed seat that had materialized before the desk. She opened her backpack and took out a folder, placing it onto the black lacquered wood. The dark elf removed the ID from around her neck, placed it upon the folder, then slid it across to him. “I believe . . . this, at the very least, will be interesting to you, Milord.”

BGMaster regarded the ID card with considerable interest. Cataclysm Division - under Inspector Sonoda. He raised an eyebrow, sliding the card back across the table to Shadow. “Care to elaborate?”

Shadowdancer looked surprised at BGMaster’s unemotional tone. She thought he would be pleased with the news she had given him . . . .

Suddenly nervous and worried that she had erred, Shadowdancer summarized the events that lead up to Sonoda’s recruitment of her. She saw a sparkle in BGMaster’s eyes as she described Sonoda’s subtle threat of arrest. She was not all that worried about her rank, for she would serve loyally regardless . . . but rather the fear of losing favor made her nervous.

She’d been trained a samurai and a servant well.

Suddenly, BGMaster broke into a satisfied smirk, one that shone in his eyes, lighting them darkly. His fingers, half curled into his fist, brushed against his lips slightly and he leaned forward. “Wonderful!”

It took her completely by surprise, throwing her train of thought. “. . . eh?”

“I said, ‘Wonderful!’ Obviously, you remain loyal to Miho-sama,” he cocked his head at her, prompting her to nod violently, her hair bobbing in ripples down her back, “or you wouldn’t be showing me this.”

Shadowdancer took the ID card back, murmuring an unintelligible “Hai . . . .”

“In that case, we now have a huge advantage over most of the other factions. Nobody else that I know of has an agent actually working for the Cataclysm Division. You can give us a head start in dealing with the random crises that beset the city. In fact, the more responsibility you acquire, the better you can help us.

“Now. That aside, you’ve been spending a lot of time with this Dr. Lightsider fellow. Normally, this wouldn’t be any of my business, nor would I seek to make it such, but the man has aroused my curiosity. His . . . reaction to your imprisonment of him was a sign that there is more to him than shows on the surface, and in this city, that can be very dangerous. Let an unknown quantity alone, and it can manifest itself in truly ugly ways. So. What, if anything, do you know?”

Shadowdancer shifted in her seat. She’d been trying not to think of the doctor all night. He always seemed to hover in the back of her mind...

“Well . . . not much, actually. I think it’s a Kami-given curse, but those are rare and there is usually a good reason for them.” she paused. “I’m . . . well, kind of curious, really.”

The Right Hand of Miho laced his fingers together and leaned forward upon the table. “Yes . . . that would be an area of interest for you . . . wouldn’t it?”

Shadowdancer raised her eyes and met his steadily. BGMaster alone knew her history and past. She had given it to him the night she rose to her Knighthood. She knew that he had kept it secret, upon her pleading, but she still flicked an eye to the shadows.

“Don’t worry. This place is quite secure; even Erika Multinational can’t get in here, not with my aura and this.” BGMaster pulled his trench-coat aside slightly to let her glimpse the true Necrowombicon[2]. “But still, I won’t say more than that. And I’m afraid that’ll be all for now. The Church has grown, and so has the work involved in overseeing it.

“You have your orders. And . . . ,” the edges of his mouth quirked up. “Good luck.”

Shadowdancer rose and bowed deeply. “Arigatou, BG-sama . . . .” with that, she straightened and would have left, if she had not nearly plowed into Yukiko, who suddenly entered into the room. She stammered an apology but Yukiko took her aside and leaned forward, drawing her close.

“I thought you should know, Little Vixen . . . ,” Yukiko smiled at the nickname she’d given the little mage. “Hoturi and Manta seem very taken with you.”

Shadowdancer blinked. “How so? I just met Milords Manta and Hoturi...”

Yukiko chuckled throatily. “I overheard them talking about you. I think Hoturi wants to ask you out on a date.”

Shadowdancer lowered her eyelashes over her eyes and laughed. “He is quite handsome . . . , though Manta-sama is attractive too, in a rugged sort of way . . . .” Shadow flicked her eyes over to BGMaster, but he was bent over the folder filled with the details of her report, concentrating on ignoring them. “Hoturi-sama is noble of blood and thus bred, I can tell . . . but Manta-sama guileless charm is alluring, as well,” she confessed to Yukiko.

“I’m sure you can handle them.” Yukiko winked slyly at her. She grinned as Shadowdancer smoothed her blouse and skirt over her lush curves, offering her a seductive smirk in return. She burst out laughing, making BGMaster glance at them, then look away with an “I really shouldn’t know, and no man ever should” expression. “Yes, Little Vixen, you can certainly handle them!”

“Ohohohoho! Of course I can.” Shadowdancer laughed, her hand covering the front of her mouth demurely.

Yukiko did the same.

BGMaster began to worry. Several little beads of sweat appeared on his brow.

After they had finished their Evil Feminine Laughter, Yukiko clapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll leave it to you then, Shadow-chan.”

“Hai, Yukiko-sama! Oyasuminasai!” Shadowdancer bowed to her, then bowed to BGMaster. “Oyasuminasai, BG-sama!”

Shadowdancer glanced at the clock above the secretary’s desk as she passed by. Gah. Just past midnight . . . . And I have to be at the MTCD HQ at eight. She sighed wearily, exiting the office. She rounded the corner and found Hoturi and Manta there, talking.

She remembered her talk with Yukiko, and blushed a little.

“You waited for me, Milords?” she said aloud. “You didn’t have to . . . .”

Even though they didn’t have to, the fact that they did touched her. She smiled at them warmly.

 “A true gentleman never leaves a lady waiting.” Hoturi said, ignoring Manta’s snort of annoyance. Shadowdancer’s blush seemed to deepen a bit.

“You seem tired, Shadow-san,” Hoturi continued. “Please, allow us to escort you to your room. It will allow us to figure out where to meet for the big rave. If I may?” Hoturi asked, offering Shadowdancer his arm.

Gratefully taking Hoturi’s arm, Shadowdancer nodded. “Thank you, Milord Hoturi . . . oh!” She looked up at Manta as he slid her backpack off her shoulder and hefted it.

“Allow me, Lady Shadowdancer . . . .” Manta said softly. The three began to walk down the halls.

After reaching an intersection, they paused. “Where are your quarters, Milady?” Hoturi asked politely.

“I live up in one of the spires, Milords . . . ” she looked at them both.

Hoturi nodded. “That’s quite a ways to walk . . . .” he looked down at Shadow, who happened to look up at him just then. He looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her weariness dulling them.

Deciding quickly, he bent and picked her up, causing her to yelp in surprise. “You are tired, Milady. Allow me to be your feet and direct us to your quarters.”

Manta stepped up to them. “Hoturi is right, Lady Shadowdancer. Please, just relax for now.” he placed a hand on her shoulder.

Shadowdancer looked frantically back and forth between the two, then, blushing, did as she was told. Only when she was completely relaxed did Manta remove his hand and hitch her backpack up a little higher on his back. “You seem to have had a long day, Milady. You shouldn’t exert yourself. Why not get quarters much closer to the ground?” the Dark Templar asked as they resumed walking toward the stairs. When Shadowdancer averted her eyes in thought, Manta glared at Hoturi for being so forward with Shadow’s person.

Hoturi simply looked away, his face calm.

Considering her words carefully, Shadowdancer looked up at Manta. “Well . . . , When I came to the Church, I requested quarters that would be quietly secluded and be of sufficient height.”

Manta looked slightly puzzled. “I can understand the quiet, but what reason do you have for the height, or do you just like a room with a view?”

In reply, Shadowdancer sat up a little higher in Hoturi’s arms and bent forward a little. From her back burst her wings, glowing with their soft, moonlight radiance. The largest pinfeathers touched the ground, and several smaller, glowing feathers floated around the three Mihoists.

Manta and Hoturi gaped. “I see...” Manta said softly, his eyes wide.

“Those are good reasons...” Hoturi agreed, taken somewhat aback by the wings’ sudden appearance. Not to mention trying not to drop the diminutive woman in surprise.

Either oblivious to the two men’s shock, or simply too tired to acknowledge it, Shadowdancer leaned her head against Hoturi’s shoulder, then stretched out one wing to brush Manta’s cheek gently. “These are the main reason why I am given such quarters. I often fly directly up to the spires, and am rarely within the main complex.”

“That would explain it. My apologies if this seems forward, but I have to say that your wings are lovely. Much better then my friend’s here,” Hoturi nodded at Manta while trying not to dislodge the elf in his embrace.

“Hey, mine are a little different. You can’t really compare them,” Manta protested.

“Why not?” Hoturi asked. Shadowdancer looked interestedly at Manta, her gaze fixed upon the Dark Templar.

“Hers are feathered . . . . Which are beautiful, I must say.” Manta said, brushing the feathery tips from his cheek. “Mine aren’t, totally different altogether.” Manta gave a smile. “Certainly not as glorious as hers.”

Shadowdancer gave him a warm smile. “Perhaps you and I could fly together sometime, Manta-sama . . . .” She relaxed again into Hoturi’s arms. “I have flown alone for far too long.” Her last words were said softly, with just the barest trace of longing and regret.

Hoturi grumbled at Shadowdancer’s comment to Manta, but managed to keep it low enough so she didn’t hear. “So, know what you’re going to wear to the rave later today?” He asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

Shadowdancer made a face and let her wings turn into feathers of light before they dissolved into glowing motes that slowly faded away. “Darn that Pokki. He was supposed to tell me about the rave a week in advance, so I could prepare an outfit.”

“I’m sure that whatever you wear will look wonderful, Lady Shadowdancer.” Manta smiled again, this time his smile warmed by knowing that they both had something in common.

“Of course it will. A good outfit accentuates a person’s innate beauty and grace.” Hoturi said, trying to keep Manta from gaining the upper hand in the conversation.

Shadowdancer sighed softly in the remnants of her irritation, and leaned against Hoturi once more. “Even so, there was a reason why I wanted him to tell me in advance . . . especially now that I might not have time . . . .” She broke off, yawning. “Gomen nasai . . . .”

 “You’re more tired than I thought. I’ll get you to your room so you can rest.” Hoturi said as he took the stairs two at a time. “You’ll need all the energy you can get, because if this rave pulls off half as well as Pokki is trying, it’s going to be one to remember.” Manta said, easily keeping pace as the floors rolled by.

Hoturi and Manta climbed the last few remaining stairs in silence, hurrying as quickly as they could, yet moving smoothly so that Hoturi would not jostle the little sorceress with his haste.

With gentle ease, Hoturi knelt down a ways, setting Shadowdancer’s feet on the smooth stone floor. “Rest well then, Milady Shadowdancer.” Hoturi said.

“We’ll see you . . . .” Manta paused thoughtfully. “Actually, when would be best?” he asked, inclining his head in curiosity.

Shadowdancer thought a moment, leaning on her door thoughtfully “Hm . . . .The rave will begin at about 8 PM I recall . . . . How about just outside the Cave’s entrance?” she suggested.

“That would be perfect.” Manta replied, slipping her bag from his shoulder and offering it to her.

“It’s a date then,” The elfin woman took the bag gratefully. “Thank you, Manta-sama, Hoturi-sama, for helping me.” Shadowdancer bowed deeply from the waist, holding her bag in her hands.

“It was an honor,” Hoturi said.

“And a pleasure,” Manta added, taking her hand gently, then kissed it, bringing another glance from Hoturi. Manta smirked to himself, using it as an excuse to linger a shade longer than what was polite.

Shadowdancer blushed as Manta’s lips brushed the back of her hand, a tingly warmth springing from her toes to the tips of her ears.

“Until the Cave then.” Hoturi interjected, to break the slight tension that filled the air, tension that had nothing to do with his own irritation.

“U-until then, Milord Manta, Milord Hoturi . . . .” Shadowdancer recovered from stammering just in time. Oh, that was . . . . She leaned against her door. She knew just what to do.  

Her voice then dropped low, to a purring whisper. “Oyasuminasai.” Shadowdancer offered them both one last smile, a smile that promised . . . much.

She reached behind her and twisted the doorknob, then slipped into her quarters.

Manta and Hoturi stood there silently, staring at the door, almost as if an after image of her still remained. “Heh.” Manta breathed.

“Yeah . . . heh.” Hoturi answered, just as uselessly, before he grinned. “I think she likes me. Did you see that last smile she gave me?” He said, smiling, as he turned and started back down the stairs.

Manta grunted a little. “Maybe she thought that your head looked funny, the ego making it so large and all.” Manta said under his breath, as he joined in the descent, leaving Shadowdancer’s door and the alluring woman herself behind.

fe

Shadowdancer leaned against her door, smiling to herself widely.

They were good. Both of them.

Her smile deepened sensually. This promised to be . . . pleasant. She closed her eyes and shivered, feeling once again the touch of either man’s lips upon her hand. She felt the thrill of such attentions warm her blood like fine sake. Oh yes, she would enjoy this very much.

The dark elf opened her eyes as she pushed herself from the door . . . and came face to face with the portrait she had done two nights ago.

Dr. Lightsider’s eyes rested upon her, bright with fear.

Shadowdancer felt any sense of erotic sensuality drain from her like blood from a vein. She stared, then with a hiss of irritation, stepped up to the easel. “You . . . . Why must you haunt me so?!”

She reached up and tore the page from the easel decisively, crumpling it in one hand. Even as she did so, she calmed suddenly. She went to the table that held a stack of finished drawings, and uncrumpled the sheet, ,trying to smooth the lines from the paper. “Waste of good drawing,” she muttered, then slid the sheet under several others . . . portraits of the one she loved still.

Shadowdancer turned resolutely from the pile of drawings and strode into her bathroom, stripping her blazer from her shoulders. Time for a good long soak . . . .

She pulled Sonoda’s hair tie from her hair and looked at it. I have a long day tomorrow.

fe

Lightsider walked slowly home. He hadn't felt this tired, this drained in a very long while. It was a weariness that struck straight down into the core of his being. For the first time in a long while, the good doctor felt the weight of the centuries on him. The weight grew with every step, and soon he tottered a bit, leaning against a nearby wall.

Lightsider blinked. How am I going to make it home? he wondered. Now that his Link with Tohru was gone, he found that he was almost completely drained, lacking even the strength to stand. The good doctor's coat once again dissolved into his glowing white wings, and he tried to lift himself into the air again. He only managed to rise a few feet before he fell heavily onto his knees, gasping.

The doctor heard her voice, before he saw her.

“You . . . you are the doctor they held at the Church,” a quiet, melodious voice said. A hand reached out to help him up, but Lightsider sensed nervousness.

No . . . not quite nervousness, Lightsider realized. It was worry. But worry over what? Was she worried for him, or because of him?

After all, other times . . . when people had seen his wings . . . .

Lightsider looked up into the eyes of a woman . . . a miko[3], by the look of her robes. He hesitated, then took her hand. “Sumimasen[4],” he said. “And thank you.” Lightsider glanced away from the lovely priestess as he rose, but leaned on her as he tried to catch his breath. “Sumimasen,” he said again, and was silent for a moment.

“Most people tell miko-san their problems, you know,” the young priestess said. “Is something wrong? Do you seek the kami's favor?” She paused for a moment, then . . . “Or are you afraid of me, or of the kami? I'm a human, like you . . . .” There was a short pause as she considered Lightsider’s wings. “Well, I don't have those . . . but surely you can talk to me?”

Lightsider looked up slowly and regarded the woman, his eyes tired. “If you are a miko, you should already know who and what I am, miss. You should know that I am beyond your help.” The words spilled out before Lightsider could think about what he was saying. His fatigue had broken the centuries-old barriers of silence that usually stood like grim sentinels in his mind.

The miko winced at his words, and closed her eyes. He was about to apologize - the words were at the tip of his tongue - but she spoke then, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You are cursed, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “I will not ask you how, or why. But believe me when I say that there is no need to be afraid of me.”

She looked at him then. Lightsider could see that she wasn't afraid of him either. She was worried, but about him.

Lightsider at the priestess in some surprise. Nearly every other miko he’d ever met had been repulsed by him on sight. Some of them had tried to kill him. They could always sense his crime, seeing his curse as clearly as if it were branded on his face.

“Yes, I am cursed,” Lightsider said simply, as he took a few faltering steps. For some reason, he felt stronger next to this unusual priestess. “Shouldn't it be your job to destroy me?”

“Destroy you? No. In the end, only you have that power.” The miko sighed, then smiled slightly. “I don't even know your name. How improper of me! My name is Kan- er . . . Kamida Mahou. Hajimemashite[5], sensei."

Lightsider nodded his head, unable to bow. “Lightsider,” he replied, matching her faint smile. “Thank you for helping me home.”

They walked in silence for a while. Lightsider didn't live an extreme distance from the hospital, but it was a fair hike.

“I don't have the power to destroy myself,” Lightsider said suddenly, startling Mahou a bit. “I've . . . well . . . I've tried. It never worked.”

Mahou was silent for a few moments. As they walked in the darkened silence, he . . . he thought he saw tears.

“<I would be honored to help you, sensei,>” she said quietly. “<I am at your service.>”

Lightsider hesitated for a moment in his surprise. The Japanese she had just spoken wasn't typical. It was ancient.

It was a tongue he hadn't heard since the Sengoku era, since he'd been . . . alive. Where had she come by the knowledge to speak these ancient words?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice she was apologizing for being wrapped up in her own.

“I'm sorry,” Lightsider smiled sheepishly. “I guess I’ve been woolgathering.”

The good doctor stopped at a building, and Mahou looked up at the sign, Hikari no Manshion. She chuckled, in spite of herself, at the implied joke.

Lightsider glanced at Mahou, and gave a smile himself. “Thank you for helping me home” he said quietly. “I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“At least you have a home,” she said quietly. “And thanks. If you need my help, I'll be there.”

Lightsider watched as Mahou turned away and disappeared into the night. A dozen questions died on his tongue, unasked.

He turned instead and went into the building, still using the walls for some support. He wondered about the strange miko for a long time.

fe

The woman who had called herself Kamida Mahou knew the Cave of Evil, like most other nightclubs, would stay open - she didn’t know exactly how late it was open, but she didn’t particularly want to stay in the rave hall all night.

So she left, and walked in the late-night streets of Megatokyo, thinking of the strange doctor and his equally strange curse.

A shrine caught her eye, set off slightly from the downtown sprawl, and, due to force of habit, she went up the steps to pray for good fortune.

“Thy pitiful servant, whom you have deemed necessary to place in this time, asks again for thy favor . . . .”

She must’ve passed out right there, for when she woke up, it was still dark and she was in a hospital bed.

At least it was a place to sleep...

Even though incense burned and the dances danced, the shrine was decaying, and battle crept closer to the nearby village.

No one came to the shrine anymore. Even the kannushi-san[6] had abandoned it, saying the village was cursed by the Kami - from Inari-sama on onwards.

She was alone . . . and alone she danced, begging the Kami to look upon the people with favor once more . . . .

fe

Lightsider entered his darkened apartment and turned the lights on. What a day. He’d experienced more surprises and emotion in the last few days than he’d had in almost any other fifty-year period in his entire existence. He was bone-tired weary.

He put some food out for Maki, his tiny black cat, and looked around his apartment. It was still in tiptop shape from the cleaning Shadowdancer had given it the night before.

Shadowdancer. Lightsider couldn’t deny a strange connection with the woman, but he’d told the truth to Draegos. She was an acquaintance, no more. Tohru, on the other hand. She was . . . .

Lightsider mentally slapped himself. He still couldn’t say it to himself. The emotional barriers he’d put up against the possibility were still too strong. He knew it, though. It was a good start.

The doctor checked his e-mail, as a matter of course. He never really corresponded with anyone, and the only message he expected wasn’t there, the one from Caduceus-kun about Lightsider’s new VR system.

Draegos’ words echoed through his mind. It was ironic, really, getting advice from such a young pup. But, he’d never been really good with women, even before his transformation. He’d always been better with the sword. It had been a miracle that his beloved had even . . . .

Lightsider changed into some loose pajamas and flopped down onto his bed. As sleep overtook him, and before the quiet of his dreams were once again savaged, like every night, with nightmares of the last moments of his mortal life, he saw Tohru’s face before him, gently smiling, and a little sad.

fe

 “Hikari!”

“Hikari!”

“Kagura!”

The warrior embraced the girl, and buried his face in her hair.

“I’ve missed thee, Kagura,” he murmured. The weeks and months of battle. It had been far too long.

The girl slipped from his grasp. “Catch me!” she laughed.

The battle weariness, the months of forced march, the smell of blood in his nostrils, they all fell away as Hikari sprang to his feet and ran after her. She ran like the wind through the fields of rice and soba.[7] It was like she had wings, as she leapt and skimmed across the countryside.

He caught up with her by the side of a local stream. She was sitting on the bank, looking out into the water. He came up, and knelt beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Please don’t go away again,” she said, suddenly and quietly.

Hikari sighed. They’d had this conversation before. He needed to make his name, his fortune before . . . .

The usual words were on his lips when a shadow fell across his gaze. He looked up.

“Miwa,” he whispered. She smiled upon him, and he stood.

The scene suddenly grew dark, and violent winds whipped through the nearby forest and across the stream. The clouds thickened and reached down at Hikari and the two women. They were torn from him, and he was powerless to resist. He drew his sword, but every strand of darkness he cut with his shining blade was replaced by two more. He could hear their cries for help . . . in desperation he embraced the darkness, drawing it to himself, cradling it like a child, a lover.

The power erupted from his soul in a ravening burst of dark fire, and he heard their screams, first horrified, and then agonized, as they were consumed.

The screams lasted for nearly an eternity.

Lightsider sat up in bed as if yanked by invisible wires. He was drenched in sweat, and shaking almost as if he were having a seizure. The dream again. He hadn’t had that particular one in years, and he’d hoped fervently it had gone away for good. Of all the nightmares he’d had over the centuries, that particular one was the worst, hands down.

The doctor shook it off. It was a dream. A dream of ancient history . . . nothing more. He lay back down and drew a few deep, cleansing breaths. Tomorrow was another day, as the cliché went, and Lightsider was determined to make tomorrow just the first in a long succession of Tomorrows with Tohru.

Lightsider opened his eyes at this last thought, and reached to his nightstand and reset his alarm clock. He had an idea.

The doctor drifted off again, the face of the lovely UFL nurse in his mind. It was a sleep of peace, and of quietude. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had in ages.

 

To be continued . . .