Disclaimer: Thïzār belongs to me. Everyone/everything else, however, doesn't.

A/N: So my first chapter turned out rather…monotonous, didn't it? My apologies. This should go along much more smoothly/simply, without all the random jibber (or too much of it) and more my usual style (detailed, but just vague enough to reduce boredom). Also, sorry for taking so long to update…


Leading the way slightly (which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the best course of action to trot on ahead of him), I felt rather awkward being around this fellow. I mean, how would one react to a being who, by scientific definition, isn't supposed to be alive yet was walking and talking like a normal human? They don't exactly have instruction manuals for this sort of experience.

Feeling his eyes on me, I peered over my shoulder to meet his mismatched gaze. I raised an eyebrow, willingly inviting a conversation without saying anything myself.

Noticing my glance, his pre-existing smile turned almost sheepish. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to stare." He shifted slightly, and the bird-like entity on his shoulder fluttered for a second before re-perching. "Silences are just…unpleasant, for me."

"Mm." Shrugging, I asked, "What do you wanna talk about, then?"

Suddenly appearing much more comfortable, which I assumed was a good thing, he started, "Well…we could talk about music."

I felt myself smirk, but quickly forced myself to frown to mask it. "Music."

"Mm-hm." He nodded, oddly appearing to not be offended by my expression.

"You mean, like…'Crawls like a worm from a bird'," I sang, making the over-dramatic gesture with an outstretched arm seen famously in plays before continuing, "or like…" I then imitated a piano playing, moving my fingers to hit the invisible keys and using my voice to imitate the notes. As far as mimicking instruments go, I'm only good at imitating guitars, but that doesn't stop me from trying other pawns of music.

Pausing for a moment, then he gave a light shrug. "Either way, I guess." Brightening his smile, he added, "You have a very nice voice." I could feel the blush on my cheeks even before he finished his sentence. "What song was that, anyway?"

"Thanks. Um…'The Bird and the Worm' by The Used, if I remember correctly."

"Could you sing more of it, please?"

I tried not to seem uncomfortable but knew instantly that I was failing at feigning normalcy by listening to my own pitch. "Why…?"

"Well, because you have a nice voice, and I would like to hear more."(1) The fact that he didn't seem to find anything wrong with his answer, the sudden innocence about him, didn't assure me that it was okay to sing in his presence.

Sighing inwardly, I asked, "Do you care which part of the song I sing?"

Hopefully, he won't.

Thankfully, he shrugged. "Whatever part you're comfortable with."

"Okay." Thinking, deciding to go with the one part of the song I knew for sure didn't sound terrible when I sang it (not to mention it was a tad fun), I started with a little dance to my step:

"Out of his mind,
The weight pushes him, whispering,
Must have been out of his mind.
Mid-day delusions of pushing this out of his head,
Maybe out of his mind,
Out of his mind…"

Letting my voice fade out gradually like a dying record, slowing my pace to a stop (and somehow finding it something of a ballet-style finish), I turned back to see his expression.

He nodded, the smile broadening. "Very good." Again I felt that warm rush in my face, which only made him smile even more. "My, aren't you a shy one? No need to be, Miss Thïzār. You really have quite a talent, there." The heavy thudding that were his stone-like boots walking across the worn asphalt sped up and before I knew it he was right next to me, smiling down at me sweetly when I looked up at him. "Ever taken dance lessons…?" he asked with a slur that felt sinister to my inner senses, and before I knew it I felt his fingertips lightly brush down along my curved middle, flinching away from his touch instinctively.

"Please don't touch me," I whispered, displeased by the shakiness of my voice. God, what a time to start panicking…

"Oh!" He took a step back, that sheepish note once again in that smile of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

My wavy brown hair swished lightly against my face as I shook my head, the fright's aftershock encouraging me to walk out ahead of him again. "No, I…overreacted." Slowing down some, concentrating on his energy to assure myself he was keeping his distance, I carefully turned my head to look back at him. "Sorry."

He just gave me that smile that I now took to be his trademark, shaking his head slightly. "No, you had every right to react the way you did." Looking away to the side with a slight pout, he said, "Anyway…" Turned his gaze back to me, placing that smile right back onto his face. "Back to music."

I nodded tentatively. Right. Keep things simple.

"You really do have a beautiful voice," he started, gesturing lightly. "You wouldn't happen to have another talent relating to music to go with it, would you?"

"Hm-mm," I lied, choosing not to mention having minimal talent in guitar and instead raising a shoulder in a half-shrug. "What about you, though? Do you have any hidden talents?"

A brow raised itself in surprise, the smile that was on his face disappearing. "Me?" he asked, placing his right hand delicately on his chest.

"Yeah."

"Well…" A small smile wormed its way to the surface as he shrugged subtly. "I play a little violin." He then mimed his vocally-chosen instrument.

I felt my eyes widen and tried to mask it by raising my eyebrows. A statue? Playing violin? "Do you really?"

He nodded, enthusiasm in his eyes. "I'm not half-bad, either. Or so say those who have heard me play…"

A moment of silence –made awkward by the way he let his sentence trail off –before I asked, "Would you call these people honest?"

His smile turned into a grin as he looked down to the black bird still perched on his shoulder. "Most of them," he answered, returning his gaze to me.

I sensed a lie, but didn't question it. Instead, I played along. "You should take their word for it, then."

Here, he gave a loud laugh –a high-pitched, chime-like sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, I do! Otherwise, I wouldn't have mentioned their opinions."

Okay…this is somehow becoming very creepy.

Oh, what're you whining for? He's a statue, nothing to freak out about.

Yes, but his energy has enough power to make him move.

What's your point?

My point is—

I snapped out of my trance when he waved a hand in front of my face. Shaking my head, I nearly leapt away from him in my stumbling haste.

A slight frown settled onto his features, eyes narrowing subtly, though his smile hadn't wavered. Even the bird still on his shoulder seemed to be looking at me oddly. "Are you alright?"

This time, I didn't answer and instead continued walking down the street.

Stop being so cliché, little girl.

"Just shut up…"

"I didn't realize I was irritating you so much."

Shaking my head before turning back around (didn't I already do this before?), I explained, "I'm not talking to you, I'm –" Stopping to sigh, I turned back around to the street ahead of me. "Forget it…"

Walking on, it took me awhile to notice a shift between the two energies. Focusing my attention, it took me a few minutes to realize that their energies were merging at points, swapping places and mixing intermittently. Telepathy at work, perhaps? But…how can –

KA-THUD!

Painfully, I opened my eyes, feeling my body cringing before finding myself even remotely aware of the sharp pain pulsing from the front of my body and rippling to my back.

"Deary me! Are you alright?" Too dizzy to see straight, the only thing that my brain registered as the blonde male helping me to my feet (damn, I fell?) being the pressure of his hands against my arms just below the shoulders. "That looked painful. Oooh…"

Testing my fingertips against my face, it took me only a moment to realize that blood was flowing like a runny nose on a snotty toddler. "Ugghhhhh…" Pressing the heels of my palms against my temples, feeling the pressure against my brain lessen some, I glared at the steps that dared trip me in my moment of distraction. "Vengeance shall be mine, oh stairs of doom." Not caring that I was weaving, I marched down the street. "Let's just get going."


(1): You have no idea how many times people have told me this...this particular line is actually a quote from someone who, for his birthday, simply wanted me to sing. He goes by Prince-san (or so I believe) here on FanFiction.