Independence, Kentucky

The crickets chirped as he made his way along the side of the narrow two-way road. Sano kicked at a rusty tin can. It made a loud clatter as it bumped across the rutted asphalt and slunk into the weeds. His mother was dead, and instead he had a little brother. So much had happened since he'd left, ten years ago. He'd been only nine years old. Nine. He was only a baby back then. But life in that two-bit town was stifling. He wanted out. Sano smiled, but there was no humor in it. He'd wanted to find his real parents. What a pipe dream. He could have stayed behind, with his sister and his adoptive parents. Kia practically worshiped the ground he walked on. At least she had when they were young. She probably hated him now. Sano took a swipe at a beer bottle lying in the ditch. As he stumbled along the two-way road, lost in thought, he didn't notice the ancient sedan careening around the curve. Before he could react, a big hand pushed him out of the way of the car. Sano jumped to his feet.

"Hey, thanks, man," he said. "Can't believe I almost got to be road kill."

His rescuer, a tall young man with orange hair, shrugged. "Happens to the best of us," he said. "Believe me."

Sano stuck out his hand. "I'm Sano Graeme," he said.

"Kazuma Kuwabara," the young man said, shaking his hand.

Westington, Massachusetts

Kaoru slid into her seat just as the final bell rang, her bag thumping to the floor by her feet.

"You almost didn't make it, Kari!" her friend Hadassah whispered as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Are you doing all right?"

Kaoru sighed. "I'm better," she said. Her father's funeral only the week before had really drained her strength. She and her father had no one else- just each other. He had never even married. It had taken a lot of convincing for Thomas Campbell to be allowed to adopt a two-year-old Japanese refugee. They had loved each other dearly- and now he was gone.

The teacher caught her attention. "We have a new student today," she said. A slim young woman with short brown hair and large dark eyes stood at the front of the class, her red plaid uniform skirt making her tiny waist look even smaller. "She just moved here all the way from Japan. Her name is…" the teacher squinted at the piece of paper. ",,,Kay. Miss Campbell, you'll be her guide until she gets used to this school."

More than a little confused, Karou nodded. The girl took her seat next to Kaoru and smiled at her.

"I'm Kaoru Campbell," Kaoru introduced herself. "Welcome to our school."

The girl beamed. "My name is Keiko Yukimura."

Dublin, Ireland

"Can anyone tell me what year the Meiji era of Japan began?" Kenshin asked. "Somebody? Anybody?" He hated to beg, but the entire class was staring at him blankly. He could see little confusion bubbles popping over their heads. But this was something important to him. He was proud that he was Japanese and could even still speak the language. The memories of the bombings were still crystal-clear in his mind. "Please, what year did the Meiji era begin?"

"It was the year 1867," a calm voice from the back said.

Kenshin smiled happily. "Yes!" Then he frowned. "What's your name again?"

"Shuuichi Minamino," the young man said. He had the appearance of a much younger boy, with long red hair and wide green eyes.

"Do I know you?" Kenshin asked.

"I don't think so," Shuuichi smiled. "At least not yet."

Rakkin, Texas

"Hey, Soujiro!" The voice was big and gruff.

Soujiro popped up at his foster father's side, a smile ready to split his face apart. "Right here, sir!" he chirped.

The man scowled. "Get that grin off your face right now!" he snarled. "What right have you to smile?"

What right indeed. If Soujiro cried every time something upset him, he'd have drowned long ago. He still didn't know why his parents hated him so much.

"We hired this'un to help with the harvest," Jude said, jerking a finger to the young man leaning against his motorcycle. "Show him the ropes."

"Yessir!" Soujiro piped. His left knee ached as he popped over to talk to the new hired hand, but he pushed the pain away. "Hi! I'm Soujiro Jude."

"Yusuke Yurimeshi," the young man said.

New York City, New York

"Hey, watch it!" Megumi glared at the slim young woman.

"I was watching it," she spat.

The young woman tossed back her light brown hair and snuffed out her cigarette. "Well, sor-ry." She didn't speak with a harsh Brooklyn accent. "You're Megumi Jones, aren't you?

"I go by Meg," Megumi said stiffly.

The young woman shrugged. "Megumi, Meg. It's all the same," she said. "You were one of those little refugee kids, right?"

"Why do you want to know?" Megumi asked, pain arcing through her temples at the memory. For years she'd tried to forgotten what really happened, and now this stranger was blurting out her past at random. "Did Khan send you?"

"Who's Khan?" the girl said. "My name's Shizuru Kuwabara."

Chicago, Illinois

"Hn."

It was only one quiet sound, but it was enough to startle Aoshi. He swore. "What the heck are you doing?" he hissed.

"Nothing much. Just watching." The speaker stepped out of the shadows.

Aoshi launched into a hysterical laugh. "A kid! It's a puny little kid!" he snorted.

The small dark-haired boy scowled and drew out a sword. "Would a child carry this?" he scoffed. "I'm no child. My name is Hiei Jaganshi."

Seaside, Calafornia

"Missy! Missy Martova!" the director called. "I found a pianist for you!"

Missy scowled and waved her sheet music in the air. "Can he play this song two keys higher?" she demanded.

A perky blue-haired girl grinned. "First of all, I'm a she, not a he," she said, her voice retaining the slightest hint of a British accent. "And second of all, I can transpose any song you want me to."

Missy's shoulders relaxed. "Oh. Well, then," she said. "I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Missy. Missy Martova. Pleased to meet you."

The girl laughed. "Oh, don't be so formal, dear," she said. "You can just call me Botan."

For more information about this story, visit the website link in my author profile.

I am currently at work on an original fantasy novel. If you are interested and would like to learn more, please send me a private message (PM) via this website.