A/N:

Here it is. The tailored and tweaked version of this unintentionally abandoned and consequently time dusted Tsubasa fanfic from an eon or two ago.

Only the first chapter, so be gentle ^_^

Set in modernity. Characters are essentially the same, maybe a tad OOC due to the different leading lives. Think of it as another dimension!

Fai POV

Disclaimer: Manga, anime, characters, any of it mine? Of course not. Just this spin.

Chapter 1: Disappointing Event

I should have known nobody would show.

After all, the whole town was weary of me, knew I was an orphan at death’s door only a year ago. Ever since Ashura took me off of the streets and into his home, I’d learned to appreciate everything that much more. But, it would seem, everybody still saw that scrawny little teenager who stumbled into their town uninvited and unwelcome. Deathly pale skin, dull blonde hair, cold blue eyes, a strange creature. One thing about small towns; rumors never let up, pasts are never forgotten, and everyone needed a bit of gossip. Guess I had perpetually become some just that.

I turned my wrist over to check the time again. 7:28. A whole two and a half minutes since I last checked. With a heavy sigh I moved around the couch to make sure nothing was out of place. Completely pointless since I’d been doing the exact same thing since 6:30. But once more couldn’t hurt, right?

I picked up a perfectly creaseless pillow and fluffed it absently in my hands as my eyes swept over the party’s appearance. Chips and dip? Check. Variety of carbonated drinks? Check. Sizable selection of music genres? Check. Pizza? I leaned back and stretched my neck to glance into the kitchen where the oven glowed a friendly orange, illuminating three perfectly cooked and currently hot pizza pies. Check. Emergency alcohol? I eyed the basement key in the glass candy dish. Check.

Before he flew out, Ashura had taken a quick stop-off to the store for three six-packs of beer, knowing his soon-to-be eighteen year old ward would handle it responsibly. However, I was relying on the combination of my host skills and a decent turn-out to keep people talking about the party for a while, not the meager booze supply. If things got boring, and the beer disappeared quickly, then and only then would I start offering real drinks, salvaged from the lower house’s supply of inexpensive spirits and wines. Ashura would understand. Not that he’d be able to do much about it since he wasn’t coming home for two nights. When I had pitched the idea of a house party to him a month ago, Ashura had been abnormally thrilled. Probably because he knew just how rough a time I’d been having in the friend-making department and wanted me to fit in around here just as much as I did. Originally, he’d intended to give me and my party plenty of privacy – insisting that there wouldn’t be nearly as much fun for teenagers with the house’s owner there – and organized a civilized night out with an old college roommate, assuring me that he’d return the following morning to help me pick up the inevitable and therefore pre-forgiven pieces of his rave-destructed home. Unfortunately, at some point last weekend, a stack of Ashura’s paperwork had been misplaced. The senior year chemistry class would not be crippled because a stack of definitions, formulas, homework assignments and periodic tables had gone walkabout, but Ashura was passionate about his lecture structures, and so, took it upon himself to personally have the hand-outs replaced and ready for distribution Monday morning…which meant he’d be eating, sleeping, and working non-stop at the school until it was done.

I sighed at the thought of how lonely he must be cooped up in that old building. So what if the former boarding school still allowed comfortable rooms for exceptional students and teachers who wanted to work or study into the night? That place, no matter how cozy, just… seriously gave me the creeps.

As a cold shiver ran up my spine, the overly fluffed pillow bounced off my right hand during a transition toss and fell softly to the oak floor. I stared at it blankly before looking at my watch again.

Now it was 7:32.

This was ridiculous. Nobody was coming. In a fit of frustration over the entire night, I bent down and snatched up the pillow, my knuckles turning white over the brown suede.

But after a moment I eased up. It wasn’t the pillows fault I was such an unpopular loser at school. After eleven months as the newest member of Hail Valley, did I honestly expect people to accept me the second I wave a birthday party invitation in their face? A teenager’s life could never be so simple.

My shoulders slumped and I decided gloomily to admit defeat and call it a night. I would eat my weight in pepperoni pizza, watch a bad late night movie and fall asleep on the couch all alone in a scary old house at the back end of an unfamiliar town at 3a.m on the night of my eighteenth birthday. First things first. Clean up the depressing party reminders that made the check-list.

I scooped up the chip and dip bowls, smaller one going on top, then balanced two massive soda bottles on the covered Tupperware, and finally placed the tube of upturned plastic cups atop the mountain. There was a few seconds of wobbling, followed by sheer panic and serious reconsideration of the choice to make one trip to the kitchen instead of two, then my body found the right balance, and off I went. One foot in front of the other, try to remember where the walls are – don’t trip over your poorly placed schoolbag – and just keep aiming for the fridge.

I had almost made it to the kitchen when there was a loud double-knock at the front door. I spun around to face it, but of course my line of vision consisted of nothing but bright orange containers and a dark bubbly plastic-confined liquid that pressed against my nose.

As I tried frantically to figure out where and how to set the pile down safely, the knock turned into a rhythmic yet impatient pounding.

“Ho-Hold on just a sec!” I shouted as politely as I could, waddling back to the living room table, trying to put the original mission into reverse.

“Fai? That you?”

I paused. “Uh... Kuro-tan?”

“Kurogane, you smart-mouthed bastard!” the muffled voice blared.

Well, that was certainly unexpected. Oh, the verbal insults were typical, so I didn’t bat an eye at that, but it was the young man’s presence that threw me off. Of all the people to end up at my birthday party, I never expected the one who openly loathed me.

“You gonna open this door or let me freeze to death out here?” he grumbled characteristically. It was only about thirty degrees outside. Wouldn’t have bothered me at all. Then I remembered that Kurogane, unlike myself who had been forced to endure various forms of harsh weather on the streets, was accustomed to sticky hot afternoons and toasty safe nights indoors. It was February now, which normally meant the sun wouldn’t allow very comfortable evenings for most of the town – but for some reason, my street and my street alone, had been suffering even more of a dramatic temperature drop every night for a week now.

Another impatient pound shook me from my thoughts and my arms swayed just so, causing the delicate balance of food and drink to suffer the consequences.

The tubs of potato chips – due to my shoddy attempt at closing the lids properly – broke open and scattered their contents all over the hallway floor. With a depressingly delayed rescue attempt, the surviving items in my hands (brim-full drink bottles) slipped out as well and hit the floor with a loud thud before busting open at the caps from pressure, spraying me, the wooden floor, the walls, the door, and even managing to hit the sofa in the next room with a decent amount of fizz.

Exhausted with frustration and self hatred, my body didn’t even bother with a humanly mundane dose of embarrassment. I simply exhaled slowly, letting my eyes droop shut, and took a step forward. Chips crunched underneath my feet as I moved to finally pull the front door open for my one and only guest.

Before me, with his black leather jacket pulled tightly around his muscular body, stood my next door neighbor. Light wind ruffled his already unruly spiky black hair. Bathed in the bright light of my hallway, tan skin over the angular structure of his handsome face made my eyes soften – as they always did. In school, we didn’t socialize, nor did we spend any time together outside the education world. So, to have him standing on my doorstep was a birthday gift I could definitely be thankful for… even though he usually expressed a very inarguable dislike for me.

Still…

“Good evening, neighbor.” I said through a forced smile, knowing my dull voice was pathetically unconvincing.

Kurogane didn’t return the polite greeting, instead he looked at my crumb-covered, cola-drenched body and raised an eyebrow.

“Partying hard I see.” The young man drawled.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Trying.”

He cocked his head to one side, leaning slightly closer to me, listening.

“Doesn’t sound too wild.” He commented sincerely at the house’s painful silence.

Again I shrugged, this time letting the act drop as I sidestepped and waved an arm weakly at my unintentional mess. Kurogane took in the scene and snorted. I couldn’t tell if it was his roundabout way of making fun of me. While he was definitely smart, he wasn’t a voluntarily articulate person. I’d grown used to his facial expressions and simple body language gestures, though sometimes it was still difficult to interpret the different meanings behind single grunts.

“Uncoordinated.” I said, figuring my single-worded explanation would be enough. Another snort, this time bringing a half smile along with it.

As crappy as I felt, that little pull at the corner of his lips, the smile meant for just me, melted the surrounding ice of my mood right away. I moved more to let him pass by me and closed the front door as soon as he was through, effectively sealing in the heat that radiated through the huge house.

I let a light laugh flutter past my lips. “At least now, with a mess, it looks a bit like an eighteenth birthday party, right?”

The dark haired teen straightened and turned to face me, frowning.

Without self-permission, my smile fell again. “Something wrong?”

“Just didn’t know it was your birthday is all.” He replied, shaking off the confusion and making sense of the clean, company prepared state of my living room.

“You… didn’t?”

“That’s what I said, idiot. Clean your ears.” He said, rudely walking into the living room to help himself to a beer. I followed.

“So quick to snap, Kurgs. I’m merely surprised since I did send you an invitation too.”

A soft hiss came from the can as the older boy pulled up the tab. He took a long swig, swallowed, and looked at me again.

“Invited me, huh?”

I nodded. “Yours was the very first mail box I went to.”

“You say that like I should be flattered you thought of me before anyone else.”

I casually leaned against the sofa arm. “Aren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes “You live right next door to me. Of course I’d be the first mailbox you get your girly little hands on. I’m the closest to you.”

Couldn’t argue with that logic. Still, I wasn’t about to tell him that he’d been the first person to pop into my mind back when I was simply entertaining the idea of having a party. I’d even go as far as saying he sparked it.

“’Sides” he continued “I’m the only one your age who lives around here. If the tables were turned, I’d go to your house first too.”

My breath caught, and Kuro’s can froze midway to his mouth as he realized what he’d just said.

“I’m explaining the convenience of it only. Completely hypothetical.” He coolly added after a moment of thought. “I wouldn’t invite your annoying ass to any party of mine. Got that?” I grinned and nodded. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to irritate you with my company any more than I already do. Although…” I pressed my forefinger to my chin in mock thought. “Wouldn’t it be considered bad manners to attend someone’s party and not return the courtesy?”

He smirked and gulped back the last of his drink, crushed the empty can in one strong hand, and set the mangled creation on my coffee table.

“Looks like that rule doesn’t apply to me, since I’m not here for your dumb party. I just wanted to give this back to your old man.” The boy reached into his back pocket and pulled something long and silver colored. At closer inspection, I found it to be a craft knife, blade safely hidden behind a plastic top. “Needed it for my woodwork homework. Figured I should give it back while I’ve nothing better to do, and before I forget about it again.”

“Thanks… I guess.” I mumbled, taking the instrument from his outstretched hand. So he hadn’t come for my party after all? Of all the highs and lows this evening threw my way, that one hit home. Not because I only wanted him to come, or that he was the object of my adoration, but simply because he, through no fault of his own I guess, gave me hope that this night wouldn’t be an utter waste of time after all. Now that hope had been crushed mercilessly.

I sighed sadly, turning the knife over in my palm, letting my fingers trail up the cool metal handle, slipping off the safety lid...

“Hey!” Kurogane all but barked the word. I looked up at him lazily.

“Hmm?”

He huffed and snatched the knife from my hand. “Don’t mess with these things when you’re depressed. It’s twisted.”

I blinked twice at his scolding, unaware of what he was talking about. Only when he tossed the little tool onto an ornamental chest of drawers in the corner did I grasp what he meant.

“I wasn’t going to hurt myself, Kurgs.” I assured him, pumping venom into my voice to get the point across. It wasn’t a topic to take lightly, but even so, I found myself forcing back a smile that threatened to break through. He was actually worried about me? How darling.

“Whatever. Just don’t fool around with it when you’re in shitty mood.”

“Who says I’m in a foul mood?” I said pleasantly, dropping the unnecessary curse word.

“Don’t lie.”

My smile grew another half inch. “Not lying. Truly.”

He glared daggers at me. “That stupid mouth of yours may be saying and doing crap to help the claim along, but I can tell it’s a load of bull.”

“Oh?” I whispered. He sighed and jerked a thumb at the hallway.

“Even if I couldn’t read your plastic face, it’s totally obvious that you should be upset. I mean, it’s your eighteenth birthday, nobody’s here, and you’ve just made one helluva mess out there.”

I followed his indication back to my hallway right in front of the door he’d walked through only minutes ago. Sure enough, the mess was still there, and I winced at the reminder of what it represented; my surrendering clean up attempt due to a nonexistent turnout.

“I’d better get going.” Kurogane said quickly, pushing himself from the propped position he’d discreetly taken against the sofa arm like I had.

My heart pounded. “Why?” I choked out.

At the broken question, Kurogane stopped mid-stride and turned back to me.

“Do you have to go so soon?” I asked, more composed this time.

“I…” The dark haired teen looked something akin to torn for a brief second before answering in his regular gruff manner “I told you I don’t want to come to any of your dumb parties. And I especially don’t want to be here when your loser friends arrive. They’re bound to be just as much an annoyance as you are.”

With a frown, I asked coldly “You actually think people will still come?”

He stared at me for a long minute before answering “You invited ‘em, right?”

“For over an hour ago, yes.”

He winced. “Tough break, man. There’s fashionably late, but this is just a plain no-show.”

I pursed my lips. “Thanks for sugar coating the fact, Kuro-meanie.”

“Just callin’ it like it is.” He paused then added; “And don’t call me that, dumbass.”

I shut my mouth and shifted from one foot to another. After the forth shuffle, Kuro resumed his intended exit. I began to match his steps.

Had anyone else showed up, I’d be wishing they stay longer too. Fact of the matter is, even after eleven months in the house, I was still frightened to be left alone in it. And with Ashura gone for two days, the fear was beginning to well up from the pit of my stomach, just like it always did.

“You’re really going?” I asked.

“Why should I stay?” he grumbled, his hand stretching to the doorknob.

“Social company, maybe? As a favor, since I’ll be bored stiff by myself? To give you something to do, since you told me you have nothing planned for tonight?”

I finished my persuasive suggestions in one quick go, sucking in a deep breath when my panic induced lungs called for it.

When my eyes refocused, I looked up to see him hesitating halfway out the door, face turned away from me.

“So what do you say?” I asked lightly, hoping that I wasn’t pushing my luck.

After another painstakingly long couple of seconds, the taller boy sighed grumpily and shut the door again.

“You got any more beer?” he grumbled.

My eyes lit up, a full force smile broke through, and before I knew it, I had bounded happily back into the living room, racing for his desired beverage.

Spotting the five remaining cans on the table, I hastily snatched them up by the plastic casing, and spun to rush back to him… hopefully looking less like a golden retriever than I began to feel.

Before I got a single step in my return sprint, I slammed into something warm but painfully hard, and fell back on my rear.

After shaking vision and logic back into my head, I gazed up at what it was I ran into.

Kurogane scowled as he loomed over me like a predator.

I shrank back with a shy little grin, then lifted my hand – not to get help standing, but to show the drinks I had picked up for him.

When his mouth twitched into another one of those rare and undeniably adorable half smiles, I didn’t care that it was at the expense of my own dignity.

To break the tension before it managed to form something solid, I laughed at myself too, then found my feet. One of Kurogane’s strong hands held my elbow, while the other took the beer gingerly from my grasp.

“Don’t think I can stand too much of your company if I’m sober, moron. And try not to fall down again. With any luck, I won’t be coherent enough to help your clumsy ass in the near future.”

He opened his second can, and, with an even wider grin, I took one for myself and raised the can high into the air.

“A toast.” I declared.

Kurogane raised an eyebrow inquisitively, swallowing a mouthful of alcohol. “Huh?”

“A toast.” I repeated, enunciating clearly, though I’m sure he wasn’t asking for a repetition, but more for an elaboration. I complied before he got testy. Man had no tolerance for jokes or humor of any kind.

“I would like to propose a–”

“Toast, yeah, I got it.”

“For…” I tried to continue, but he cut me off again.

“For nothing. This isn’t a night to celebrate. I’m only here because I’m bored.”

I rolled my eyes, adopting his trademark gesture.

“I think it’s a night to celebrate. It is my birthday after all.”

Kuro flopped down onto the soft couch, casually draping a strong arm over the back. “So you’re having a party on the same night as your real birthday, is that it?”

“Of course. Why?”

He shrugged. “Some people just separate the birthday from the party. Spend quality time with their family, then wait for an appropriate date, usually a weekend, for a shindig. Get what I’m saying?”

I nodded solemnly. “Oh I get it alright, I just haven’t done that kind of thing in a while. After all, I didn’t quite cherish a seat in the lap of luxury last year if you recall.”

I heard the teen suck in a breath between his teeth, and I realized he had forgotten that little fact.

“Sorry.” He grumbled.

“It’s okay.” I replied with a smile, then something began to tug at the back of my mind.

“Hey, Kurgy?”

He growled in response “What did I tell you about those names?”

I nonchalantly waved away his hostility, continuing with my chosen topic.

“You said you didn’t know it was my birthday, or that I was having a party?”

He frowned. “Yeah…”

“Didn’t you find my invitation? I left it in your letter box a week ago.”

Kurogane thought for a moment, turning his usual scowl into a firm line as he did so.

“No. Out of all the mail we got in the past week, I didn’t see any crummy invitation of yours.”

I pursed my lips. “You sure?”

“Of course I am, idiot!” he boomed. I blinked and sank further into my seat, just a tad taken aback by his sudden outburst. Seeing this, the boy relaxed his squared shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Look man, it just pisses me off when you ask me the same question more than once. If I say something, I mean it. Unlike some people, I’m not about lying.”

Was that a little message indicated for me in there? Before I could press such an accusation, he moved on.

“I did find a light blue envelope addressed to me with weird swirly writing. At first I thought it was some…” he cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the couch. “…secret admirer. You know, since the penmanship looked so stupid and girly, but when I opened it, there was just a worksheet for your dad’s chemistry class. I don’t even take chem, so I figured it was a mistake and––”

“Hold on.” I cut in, rising to my feet. “You say you got Ashura’s chemistry worksheet?”

He nodded once. My head fell into my hands with a slap.

“That must be where all his paperwork went. I’m so stupid!”

Kurogane stood as well, finding a place at my side.

“Hey, calm down, will ya? What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

I just continued shaking my head as I beat myself up about this small yet fatal mistake.

“Damn!” I shouted and thumped the air at my sides. “Ashura’s paperwork!”

Kurogane growled and caught my flying hands in his larger ones and pinned them down safely with an iron grip.

“Quit flinging these around like a lunatic and explain to me what happened.” He said calmly, then lowered his head to catch my eye. “Slowly.”

I sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth.

“I mixed up Ashura’s work with my party invitations. That was where they all went. So, in one genius move, I have condemned my foster father to a torturing weekend of unnecessary overtime in a dodgy old building, as well as dooming my eighteenth birthday party and eliminating any possible chance of popularity. All because I mixed up two stacks of paper!”

Silence hummed through the air. I remained still and quiet after the dramatic explanation, as did Kurogane.

How could I have messed up so badly? Granted, it wasn’t the end of the world. There are a lot of things more important than a silly little party, there were worse things Ashura could be doing with his weekend and scarier places he could be doing it in. So the level of red anger I felt toward myself at the moment was admittedly unnecessary. Of course, in order to gain perspective, one would need a little time in order to see things from a distance. As I stood there, eyes darting from the practically empty living room, to the messy hallway, it was hard to see the silver lining of my situation. Then my eyes strayed downward to my hands, clenched into fists at my sides, then to my upper arms where another set of darker, stronger hands, belonging to a likely annoyed neighbor, still clung to me.

The rage I felt lowered to a simmer. It wasn’t as though this boy was a whiz with words, or even understood the meaning of mannerly behavior, yet his presence alone seemed to calm me. Odd.

“Sorry.” I muttered after a while.

Kuro exhaled and retracted his arms before shoving them deep into his black denim pockets.

“You really are a psycho.” He grumbled. But even as he said this and turned his body away, his deep red eyes wandered back down to my own, gaze softening, eyebrows raised a little, showing slight yet unmistakable concern.

I sniffed and backed away, aiming for the kitchen. “Yeah. Looks like fate has decided to mark me as one for the whole town’s pleasure. Maybe I’m simply not meant to fit in.” I said, spilling my thoughts out as they came along, ignoring the censoring process they should have been undertaking.

The oven had automatically stopped cooking at a set time, and now kept the pizzas toasty for consumption without deadline.

I pursed my lips and turned it off altogether. “Hungry?” I called back clearly. The sound of heavy footsteps grew, and I knew he was advancing. They stopped right behind me.

“I’ve cooked a few pizzas.” I said as I turned my head around. “Won’t be able to eat ‘em all myself, Kurgy.”

Kurogane’s seemingly interested gaze swung to the dark oven. I bent over and opened the door, releasing a blast of heat mingled with aromas. Sizzling pepperoni, hot bread, melted cheese. I inhaled deeply and sighed. Without thinking, as per usual, my hands automatically obeyed the commands of my grumbling stomach and reached into the open oven for said hot food.

A low hiss came before the pain did. I immediately pulled my left hand back, since it had been the first of two to reach the oven grid, and as I did so, the tiniest bit of resistance told me that my skin had stuck to the heated metal, and the added sting afterward told me it had just been ripped off with my swift retraction.

“Watch it!” Kurogane shouted, snatching up my hand. It didn’t hurt like a cut would, though I’m sure the lost skin would grant me that pleasantry in a couple of days. Right now though, it just felt hot. Too hot. And increasing in temperature with every passing second.

Kurogane grabbed my right elbow and tugged me over to the kitchen sink. He punched the silver tap handle sideways and cold water began to flow, then he pulled my left hand under the relief granting stream.

Maybe half a minute later, when numbness took over, my hand was forcefully removed and closely examined. The burn could be seen quite clearly now. A long patch of skin, inflamed and shiny, extended downward from the tip of my forefinger to joint of my thumb. The radiant red had been horribly exaggerated against snow white skin. Not a pretty sight at all.

Kurogane gently turned my hand over with his own, looking for any other burns. I winced at the sudden movement.

“Sorry.” He said.

“Forget about it.” I replied, tugging my hand back.

“What, forget about causing you pain just now or forget about your dumbass injury altogether?

I shrugged. “Either or.”

“Who the hell takes food out of an oven without oven mitts?”

“Me, it would seem.” I chirped, turning back to the oven and stretching the front of my white t-shirt out so I could use it as a glove this time around. “But I’m not completely stupid. Even though I tend to forget the little things, I can learn them quickly over and over again.”

“Idiot. Learning stuff doesn’t count if you keep forgetting it. And it’s common knowledge to not do what you just did.”

“My apologies, Kuro-burro. At least you’ll be able to sleep soundly tonight knowing you came out of this simple lesson about everyday life without a scratch.” I quickly retracted the grid, three large pizzas intact, and swung my body to get them onto the gleaming countertop as quickly as possible. The metal chimed as it made contact with the hard surface, and I yanked my hands back, feeling the warm shirt retract and settle against the skin of my flat stomach. I attempted to brush away the creases, noticing a couple of grease spots that had stowed away from the meal.

“That’s more than you can say for yourself.” Kurogane said suddenly. I glanced up with my head slightly tilted in confusion. What was it we had been talking about again?

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, jerking a chin toward that reddened left hand of mine as I absently continued to knuckle the front of my shirt.

“No.” I lied.

He exhaled and I smiled at him. He glared and I faltered slightly. He narrowed his eyes… and I surrendered.

“Maybe a little bit.” I murmured. Damn him!

With a deep throaty sigh, the taller teen began advancing toward me once again. I panicked and darted for the cabinet, grabbing two large dinner plates and fastening them in front of me.

“So you gonna help me eat this feast or not, Kuro-pu?” I exclaimed.

Those red eyes blazed. “I said don’t mutilate my name, moron!”

“Is that a yes? Fantastic.”

He blinked twice. “Hey, I never said I’d–”

“You get the pizza cutter, I’ll take these back into the living room.” I interrupted sweetly as I speedily slipped two pizzas onto white plates, and flew past him with waiter-like precision back to the adjoining room’s wooden coffee table.

Soon after, the silverware drawer’s contents began to clink together from behind me as Kurogane rummaged for his assigned utensil.

A/N:

I’ll stop here because what happens next needs to be distributed in a whole chunk, and if I give it to you now, I fear this first chapter will be too long for comfort. I’m sorry I failed to offer the sticky chaotic core that is the intended supernatural genre of this fic, and instead gave an opening to a teenager’s depressing eighteenth birthday party failure, but trust me, there is more to this story than meets the eye. The ‘creepy’ former boarding school, the suspicious townspeople, Fai’s past, his current nerve-chilling abode, Kurogane’s seemingly minimal yet crucial partake in Fai’s life as a Hail Valley resident.

It’s all gonna be here folks!

Well… here’s hopin’ anyway.

Later!