Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Spectre ❯ Slipping through the cracks... ( Chapter 3 )

~~Warning - Disclaimer~~

The characters in this story don't belong to me. The idea, the Mirror, the world of E'Tailh and it's magic-that's mine. Stealing, as always, is something that I will dismember people for, so don't bother trying.

Notes - there's a bit of a warning for this chapter. Dark and murder-implications. It's not pretty, but then, this story isn't supposed to be pretty. Macabre fairy-tale-now that's what I'd call it. ^_^

Thanks go to M, my lovely detail-catching beta! *snugs*

~Spectre~

:Slipping through the cracks:

What the hell? He thought, leaning on the plastic partition of the bus-shelter. What the hell was that? What just happened? The journal tingled in his hands. He stared down at it, sweat prickling on his skin, and shook his head. Go home and read it? What the hell is going on?

He spent the ten-minute bus ride in silence, leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes. He didn't dare release the journal, didn't dare look at it. He couldn't think. It still held an echo of a chill, as if it had been taken out of an icy room only moments before…but that wasn't possible.

Right?

And hearing things in a mirror is? He told himself crossly. You are going nuts. Nuts. Bonkers, crazy, loony. Gonna get locked up in a padded room for sure.

The bus pulled to a stop on his street, and the driver had to yell twice before Daisuke noticed. He waved him off with a frown and darted down the steps. The sun was warm on his face where he stood on the sidewalk. He fumbled for keys as he walked up the steps and made his way to his apartment. His hand shook as he inserted the key, turning it as his heart thumped.

He wasn't sure if he was excited…

…or scared.

This will tell me about the Mirror…He dropped his jacket over the counter, his keys into a bowl, and slipped out of his shoes. …Do I want to know?

Yes, he decided after a bit. I do.

~//~

"There is always a way."

As my teacher was fond of saying, "There is always a way, but not necessarily a path." We tried, we tried so hard to do what was necessary, but we were young and foolish. The demon came through the Mirror into our world over five thousand years ago. We didn't know…how could we? We barely knew he lurked in the shadows, and yet we assumed we could defeat his years of guile…Yiru is a master at deception, at seduction and the like. He entered our world and drained our life from us, our gift, like water.

By the time we discovered his presence he was already insinuated into our Council, and well on his way to controlling the members. So many lives, so much careful destruction…For years and years the demon was feeding upon our gifts, our power. For years he was learning from stolen memories and stolen souls. He learned and worked his way towards better meals…

So they told us. I don't know, so much was lost, and so many were under his control…I don't know who spoke truth and who did not, but this much I do know. When I was born, when we were all born, we were hidden away. We were trained from the very start to be a Circle, to complete a spell upon the Mirror and send him away...

It didn't work that way. We were so stupid, so young and stupid, full of the idea we were more than we were…

The seventh, the Spirit, was a young shy boy named Taliaz. He was our only saving hope. It was his power, swollen with youth, that kept Yiru from destroying us. I don't know how, his element was so different…all I know that the seal we tried to use, the barrier, it failed. We failed. We couldn't send Yiru away…we couldn't save our world…

So we compromised, and it cost us dearly. We stole the mirror and fled, and sealed the path behind us…Peir and I were the only ones to live through this…Taliaz died sealing our way behind us. Othia of the light died to complete his spell-being the elder brother of Taliaz, his gift was akin to the Spirit child, and he was able to lend strength…but it was not enough.

Roric of the earth, Vea of the water, Louve of the air…they died when we reached this world. They died as they finished their part in this story, as they bound the Mirror's path.

…and I, Saelin of the fire…

I am alone now…Peir of the darkness stole away with the Mirror as planned, and I am alone. This world is strange, and this journal is all I have left to mark my notes and secrets in. My gift fades as I write…it was all we could do to prevent Yiru from reaching through to this world, to where the Mirror is. It is his only means of escape, of finding a new fresh world to feed upon…

I don't know if I should rejoice or grieve at the thought that he will surely die, at the expense of my people…my people are dying without their inborn gift, and I was told that the children, now, are born without it…

Is a world a small price to pay to stop a demon?

Settled on his lumpy couch, Daisuke stared at the paper. Okay, I was kinda expecting some funky story…but…this can't be possible…

His hands were shaking as he flipped over the pages, staring wide-eyed at several meaningless phrases, at strange drawings and small sketches of plants. He blinked, turning pages rapidly, until a chunk of text jumped out at him, a date.

August 14, 1987

Father has given me this journal as an heirloom-although I don't understand why. It's merely gibberish. Ken likes to take it and stare at it, however-small things like this fascinate him. I don't know why I even bother to write in this-the forefront is filled with useless scribble and the back is hardly used. I think I'd be in big trouble though, if father did know-he said it was priceless. Bah-I don't even know why I bother.

O.

November 25, 1987

Father was oddly excited today-I suppose it's important, if I'm writing in this thing-notice it's only the second entry? Yes, I'm very happy with, can you tell? Well, back to what I was saying. Father said he had found a super deal on some old mirror today. Said he got it for a pittance, considering it had a nearly solid silver frame. I'm not sure if it was or not, but I didn't like it. It gave me the creeps, all dusty and tarnished. Like the metal was rotting away. Ken seems to have a strong interest in this, but then, he's only 8 and I'm 16. I don't expect to have the same interests as him…

But the mirror gives me the creeps, and I don't know why I'm even bothering to write this down in here. Perhaps it's merely an urge to have a secret or two.

O.

Daisuke breathing had slowed to a harsh momentary whine. This was Osamu's…journal? He scanned further, reading a short and terse sentence that was nothing more than irritation over some squabble with the younger brother, and flipped pages hastily.

He did know about the mirror. He knew! Daisuke swallowed as he read through neat scrawling. So why…why did he get all freaky like that?

The next date he saw skipped a few years. Daisuke licked his lips nervously, mouth dry, and he began to read through it, the chill of the leather forgotten. The words were smeared, some of them unintelligible and scratched out as if Osamu had struggled with himself while writing it.

Febuary 6, 1991

This is hard to write. My hands are shaking, and I'm not quite sure I believe what I saw. I'm not sure I'm sane, right now. I can hear Mother crying somewhere-Father's busy getting drunk. It's been five days, five days since I saw what happened and five days of struggling to accept it.

It has to be true. There's no other way. I've gone through every possibility.

Ken went through the mirror, I saw him pulled right into it-

-something took my brother-

With a cry Daisuke slammed the journal shut and threw it across the room, horrified and shaking. His brother, he thought. It was his brother. His brother…went through the mirror.

He stared at the innocuous leather-bound journal, stared until his eyes hurt, and he shivered. His hands tingled where the journal, where the magic had brushed out at him. Where the words spoke of demons and worlds and magic and lost brothers.

The demon took his brother!

Where the words spoke of a Mirror, and a pathway.

Oh god… His mind flashed to indigo eyes, to a face etched in moonlight, as he exhaled violently. Then he thought to a single fact, and sense of knowing. He didn't know how, but-

The boy on the cliff…his name is Ken.

~//~

The wind was blowing in chill fits across the thick gray-green grass, rippling across the flattened earth. The sky was a washed out blue where thin clouds scurried across its surface. To the North, the direction of the ocean, a motley gathering of stormclouds flashed as the lightening within boiled. Sheets of rain blurred the sky, and although he couldn't see the horizon, he knew the waves along the shore would be tossing and thick with spume.

It'll be here by nightfall, he thought, staring out over the unremarkable plains. The world itself was pale, with the used and worn look that spoke of years and years of cruelty. The winters were getting longer, and the fields produced less food…

And the people…

Ken snagged a long wiry stem of the waist-high grass and twirled it absently between his fingers. The people of this place were dying. They had been dying for centuries, even as they lived normal quiet lives. The children ran and played, but there was no laughter. They had no spark, no life. They existed as shells in a world without sound, without the vibrancy of life itself to lend it color.

He shuddered, and dropped the grass to wrap his delicate-clad arms around his middle as if to protect something. I'll end up like them eventually came the horrified thought. He had seen it happen and it terrified him like nothing else. They were empty, they lived a non-life of lonely existence.

I can't. I can't do that.

He wished he could run away, off to the other plains, to anywhere but this dying city. Wished he was anything but a changeling boy in a world where demons feasted on souls, where people stared with empty eyes as they smiled in a façade of normalcy. Wished he could rid himself of whatever made him different, whatever gave him the power to be here…

Wished he had the power to get rid of what hunted him and go home. Above all, he wanted to be home again…

Soon, the shadow whispered. You'll have a chance soon-Yiru won't wait forever, and you're entering your prime. It will be soon.

The thought didn't reassure him, but it lent him a measure of patience. Ken reached up to clasp a curving pendant of silver, almost a ring, but it was too small for his fingers now. It had fit once, and now it only reminded him that he hadn't waited this long for nothing, concealing himself within lies and carefully fabricated faults. He was walking the steps of a dance that had him becoming something that wasn't quite human. There was a risk that all his efforts were for naught, a risk that Yiru already knew his game for what it was.

His only safety was the wire-thin possibility of Yiru's arrogance to keep him from suspecting a similar play of deceit. Yiru and his love of guile, his little games-would he notice if Ken mimicked his ploy? He didn't know. He never knew where he stood with that creature. His fingers tightened upon the silver and he took a slow breath to calm his uncertainty.

I should go back. It's getting cold, and perhaps I can pull of being ill for a night.

Mmm…perhaps, the Kaizer murmured. But then, you need his knowledge as well.

Only to leave, Kaizer. Only to leave.

~//~

Daisuke left the journal laying upon the floor in his cluttered living room and walked with jerky steps to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water with shaking hands and downed it in three gulps. His heart hammered, and he had to wipe his mouth free of spilled liquid.

God…

The glass clinked down on his counter, and he had to lean heavily, mind racing, before he remembered to breath. This is fairy-tale shit! This isn't possible!

The world doesn't work this way-there's no such thing as demons and magic mirrors-Daisuke squeezed his eyes shut, and then yanked his hands through his hair in an effort to think.

Then how do you explain your dreams? a dry voice returned.

Daisuke felt his chest squeeze shut. My dreams…he thought weakly. This just isn't possible…

What if…it's true?

Without realizing it Daisuke found himself sitting on the floor and leaning against the cupboard. He supposed he was going into shock, that his mind was struggling to bend itself around something that couldn't be possible-shouldn't be possible. The edges of his mind, his body, slipped into a numbing chill, mind fracturing on thoughts. What if it's true? his mind finally said, the voice stronger now that it had Daisuke's attention.

What if there's really a boy out there? And demons, and other worlds? What if it's true?! Daisuke hugged his knees close to his chest, feeling small and off-balance. The world had started to tilt the wrong way, everything was blurry and as he sat there, a single tiny thought crossed his bewildered mind.

…what am I supposed to do?

~//~

His mount was a shaggy creature with stilted legs and a long ugly head. It reminded him of a camel at times, with the fur and the ungainly legs. It was capable of a surprising amount of speed, though, and the beasts were notoriously loyal, once tamed. The tricky part was taming them; they were clever and often malicious beasts.

The Kaizer was seated on such a creature, the wind a steady pressure on his back as he trotted through the cobbled streets. He looked neither left nor right as he moved and peered straight ahead with an icy emotionless expression.

He still saw the fear on the faces of the people, though. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught mothers ushering their somber children into the homes, caught the twitch of a curtain as someone pulled away from the window. He saw the wary guarded faces of the people who had little defiance left in them-and that had been mostly beaten down over the years. Yiru was powerful, he was strong and cunning.

And as his proclaimed heir, the Kaizer would receive none of their welcome…

…if they had anything left in their hearts to welcome him…

You have more pressing matters, a mildly irritated voice reminded him.

The Kaizer allowed a twitch of a smile to flash of his face. The shadow of Ken knew that the boy would rather ignore the pointed and fearful glances, that he'd rather go on and face the demon rather than all these people that hated him. He was quick to become uneasy and frustrated with his inability to help, and was now a master at hiding his emotions. I know, the Kaizer replied quietly. Be patient.

The road ahead grew steeper and the houses more elaborate. The caste of nobles in this area, the inner-city, were less quick to turn away, but their blank eyes held the same fear. They feared him because they feared Yiru, and to them…they were the same.

Ken must have been following his thoughts-he heard a snort of disgust echo inside of his mind. As alike as oil and water, Kaizer.

The Kaizer twitched the reins in his hand, and the beast snorted, shook his head, and lengthened his stride to accommodate the incline. True, he replied inside. Then, raising his eyes to the sculpted marble steps and tall pillars of the Seventh gate, he finished …it's time. Quiet, now.

Ken slipped away as they passed through the gate, hiding deftly within the darkened shadows of his mind and allowing his shadow full control. Now he could only wait and watch the events of the evening. The Kaizer shivered as the boy faded from their psyche and let the coldness shine through his eyes.

It was time.

~//~

It was getting late when he managed to pull himself off the cold floor of his tiny kitchen. There was an empty plate beside him, a hasty and absent-made sandwich. Something he nibbled on while his mind struggled over facts. He wasn't sure what he was going to do yet. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment. His knees ached dully from being bent for so long, and there was a slightly-numb spot at the base of his spine where it had dug into the wall. All he had was a vague determination to find out what was going on.

Daisuke pushed himself away from the counter and made his way to the living room. He paused in the doorway, eyes falling to the leather-bound journal. Unconsciously, he drew in his bottom lip between his teeth and frowned.

Not possible. Not possible at all, he told himself.

You heard voices in the mirror. You saw a boy. You dreamed about him, his mind shot back dryly. How do you know what's real and what's not?

…good point, Daisuke conceded. He fidgeted briefly, fingers twiddling with his sleeves, and shivered slightly. It seemed colder in here, even with the window open and the summery scent of the outside wafting in. He could faintly hear cars in the distance, the yelling voices of children in the park. Laughter. All of it seemed surreal, as if the world wavered away while he stood there.

It was like Wonderland had paused to shoot up some LSD and left him spinning in the wake of the fucked-up fairy tale. A small part of him cried that he didn't want this, a sound lost behind the vacuum of the everyday noises. A larger part was shaking in a suppressed mix of excitement, in pure and frightening thing that he didn't know how to classify.

Get on with it, something told him brusquely. The part that was mostly going 'this can't be happening,' in a small lucid voice faded to a whisper.

Get over there and pick it up…besides…there was a sly pause while his mind presented one final thought to him.

Don't you want to know what happens next?

~//~

There was a child seated in the center of the polished granite floor when he walked into the room. He couldn't tell if it was a male or female. It was crusted with grime and clad in a ragged oversized tunic. It didn't move or make a noise when he entered-it merely tensed.

The Kaizer paused briefly, startled but not enough to show it, and raised a brow. Inside his gut twisted. "My Lord?" he asked without inflection.

Footsteps sounded from the shadows, circling predatory footsteps. The child whimpered and hugged thin arms around knobby knees. It couldn't have been older than five years. Tousled dirty blond hair hid the face-a fact that the Kaizer was suddenly glad to know. He didn't want to see the face. He didn't want to be here.

He made himself affect a bored and disdainful expression.

"What perfect timing," the modulated voice smiled in the darkness, a voice only for his ears. A finger brushed his neck. "Go, sweet, and be a comfort, will you? I have a desire for affection today."

The Kaizer knew that refusing would give away the game. He didn't dare to give that up, even as his heart shrank into a cold ball of hatred, even as something withered and cracked. "Very well, but you know I despise looking so…weak," he murmured, pulling away from that cold crawling finger. "Will you stay in the shadows, My Lord?"

"Of course," Yiru purred behind him.

The Kaizer stepped forward, mind racing. Ken. Gods, Ken, it has to be you.

A gasping pressured emotion floated out. I know, the other said.

I am sorry, the Kaizer whispered. A hand raised in front of him, fingers bending as the palm faced inward. He hated dropping his illusion in front of the demon, hated revealing his true self because it was too risky. He had worked on this image over the course of years, and he didn't know if dropping it would be a mistake-

I have no choice.

The child was facing away as Ken stepped forward, seemed to pass through some invisible barrier. As light played around his form, his clothes slipped away into a simple tunic and knee-length breeches. His feet were bare. A part of him sighed in relief at the absence of the heavier cloth, hair settling into straightness and skin into golden cream. His face was kind and open, eyes a tired indigo.

The child was facing away as the elder boy approached on silent feet. Ken felt like screaming as he paused to look down, something inside of him reaching out instinctively.

A girl child, he realized. A glimmering of the spark shone within her. If allowed to live, allowed to grow, that spark would shift towards the Air element.

Oh god, Ken thought helplessly, and sank to his knees in a soft rustle of clothing. Not again…

The girl-child squealed in sudden fear at his nearness, spinning and scooting away. A shaking hand wiped away tears, blue eyes that were a touch more defiant than usual glared at him. The thin shoulders shook with sobs, and Ken had to fight to keep a gentle smile on his face.

"He's not here," Ken whispered. "It's okay."

The girl merely shook, staring at him.

Carefully, Ken tilted his head and wove a tiny pattern of shadow upon the floor. It was a compulsion glyph, and as he raised a hand to brush at his hair-keeping the girl's attention-he slipped the glyph into the circle of the girl's shadow. "It's okay," he said as the magic took hold. "It'll be okay."

The lower lip trembled, and the girl whimpered breathlessly. Her mind was still unformed with youth; it molded into his trust without difficulty. A moment later, she was weeping, and Ken was gathering her into his arms. "Shh," he said. "Shh…"

"…he's gonna eat me," she whispered into his chest. "…don't let him eat me…"

"I won't," he said, throat thick with the lie. "I promise. What's your name, child?"

"…Tairisa."

"How did you get here?"

"…don't know," the girl replied. Her fingers dug into his tunic and Ken bent his head to hide his expression. Around him he could hear soft and almost silent footsteps. He willed the girl into a more docile mood, into something that resembled warmth, and stroked the matted hair absently. He didn't want her to hear anything but his voice.

…god…forgive me…

"I can take you home, Tairisa. Would you like that?"

A pause, and a small tension that had nothing to do with fear. Her hope bloomed in his mind like a fragile flower. Yiru faded out of the shadows soundlessly, and Ken didn't have to raise his eyes to know that he was there.

"…really?" the girl breathed. She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. Ken wiped at her face carefully, nodding once. A small tiny smile flickered across her face.

Yiru was kneeling behind her, and Ken had to bite the side of his tongue to keep from expressing anything other than what the girl needed to see.

The hope flared into true honest love-and Yiru slipped his fingers against her back, and bent his head to hers.

Ken raised his eyes to meet icy green as the girl-child closed her own, as if she had suddenly fallen asleep. Yiru watched him with an unreadable expression, as if trying to judge his work. A small indifferent smile played about his lips, and the girl moaned a little as he moved his mouth to her neck. Her arms fell limp from their hold on Ken's chest.

Ken drew in a breath, then another, and waited. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him, no matter what he does. Never ever cry. So he did the only thing possible. His eyes went flat, and as Yiru watched, the emotionless visage of the Kaizer reappeared, complete with tousled hair and elaborate clothing.

The Kaizer raised a brow in disdain, affection boredom, and brushed at his sleeves. "She could have used a bath," he reproached the demon mildly.

Yiru smiled sweetly at him, and gathered the child in his arms. "Well done, sweet," he said. He stood, and slipped backwards into the shadows, eyes fixed upon the human's face.

"When you're finished," the Kaizer said, pausing as Ken retreated far into his mind to hide his revulsion. He stood slowly. "I'll be in the library." He walked towards the southern door, the hall that led to his chambers and knew the demon wouldn't respond.

Passing under the arches, he left behind a terrible slurping noise, tearing sounds, and a child's scream.

~//~

For the second time the journal dropped to the floor. It fell almost silently this time, making the smallest of thuds as it landed on the carpet. Daisuke sighed deeply, the sound of someone trying to deal with something he hadn't ever expected to hear.

…it's not possible, his mind whispered weakly.

It is, came the stronger voice. God, it is, and you know it. This isn't a game, this isn't some story that you can just put donw. It's real and unless you can do something-there is a world that's dying!

Daisuke shivered, staring sightlessly over his bent knees to the wall and piled stack of leaning canvases. But I can't do anything! I'm just an art-major!

The voice was silent, almost accusing. Daisuke squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. "Dammit!" he hissed. "Dammit-I don't know what to do!"

~//~

He was furious by the time he reached the upper halls. The library door suffered unexpected abuse as he slammed it open, striding through with fingers clenched. The wooden paneling bounced off the inner wall without his touch and slammed shut.

"Damn him," a choked voice escaped from the tense figure. "Damn him back to his place in hell." The Kaizer whirled, eyes scanning the room. His voice rose, a touch of hysteria mixed with all the anger. "Melchai! Melchai where are you?"

"My Lord Kaizer?" a quavering voice called.

The youth twisted his head to see a wizened and stick-frail man standing on the second floor balcony. He stood, meeting those eyes for a brief moment and let his rage show. Let his grief, and his helpless frustration shine. He took a breath, and tried to calm himself. "A girl-child," he said with a strained voice. "There was a girl-child."

The old man looked away. "I see." He bowed, his bald head glinting, and his robes of tattered gray swishing. "I am sorry, my Lord."

The Kaizer clenched his fists, struggling to regain his calm. "There was nothing I could do."

Melchai turned, reached out with gnarled fingers and patted at his table for some document, lifting and setting aside parchment, peering with his failing eyesight. Neither spoke for a moment, and the silence was filled with imagined cries. The Kaizer took a struggling breath and pushed at his anger. It would do no good to get angry. Yiru would be along soon, and it was best to have his emotions under control.

"Old man, you should find a corner to hide in soon. Yiru won't take long to…finish."

"Things are strange," the old man muttered. His eyes held a touch of the emptiness so familiar to the Kaizer's eyes. "Damn cat chewed on my robes. Lost my ink-well. Oh dear," he mumbled, scattering papers.

The Kaizer sighed, bone-deep weariness settling over his heart. Without thinking about it, he worked through the small scattered chairs and to the curving stairs and ascended. "Melchai-" he began as he reached the top stair.

The old man was rambling towards the door to the Atrium.

"Oiy-you know you're not supposed to be in there," The Kaizer frowned, and brushed at his hair. "Yiru's awake, old man-if he catches you-"

Melchai peered at him under wispy brows, and crooked a finger. "It can't be helped," he whispered. "Come. Something changes."

~//~

Daisuke walked into his room with the journal in hand. He didn't think about it, but then, the instinct not to let it out of his sight was only blooming. He tucked it into his waistband and began to rummage through his closet. He was cold-he needed a shirt, something larger, and preferably thick.

The mirror, something reminded him as his hands grabbed a sweater. The mirror is a part of this.

Body shaking slightly, heart thumping and his blood freezing, Daisuke turned his head.

The mirror flickered with an eldritch light, glowing in the afternoon sun.

~//~

Walking into the room Ken knew immediately that something was wrong. The atrium was lit like a summer day, warm and oddly familiar. He glanced at the pool of murky green water, watched it splash around under unseen agitation.

No. No. He exhaled suddenly. All the times he had sat in here, all the times he had stared into the summoned mirror, watching his brother and the shop he kept, watching and whispering from a different world-the room had never looked like this.

Not even after the redheaded boy had taken the Mirror had the room reacted.

Now it shone with a response that terrified Ken.

Yiru's coming-he'll see this and he'll do something-he'll do something bad!

The room was circular, and free of any furnishings. A small round pool-the source of the light-was centered in the room. The pool itself was a simple design. It had an arching path that ended just over the northern side-it reminded Ken of a diving board-and a battered stone railing notched in six primary directions. Melchai stood at the southwest notch and peered, shaking, into the pool.

"What happened?" Ken whispered. Why isn't Yiru here? Is it because he's glutted on power? The girl-child? I can feel the power in this room-why isn't he here?

"Look," Melchai whispered, drawing away with his hands pressing into his wrinkled face. "Oh, it burns…"

Whatever the old man saw, Ken couldn't see. Not without standing on the North pathway and summoning up the water in the pool to form a Mirror. The reflection of the true Mirror secreted away in his world. In his haste to reach the walkway he almost ran up the curve of stone. His heart was thumping from the mild exertion, from the intrinsic unease of the room. He reached a hand out, power calling power, and asked the water to become a Mirror. It answered, flowing up and swirling and flattening until a silvery blue surface gleamed at him. Melchai cried out below him, a cry of fear and awe at something he couldn't see yet.

"…show me," Ken whispered. Show me what calls you. He sketched a symbol on the air.

Show me.

~//~

Lost in the small and barely-satisfying rush of power, innocent and pure, Yiru was only partially aware of his senses warning him that something was happening. He stroked the trembling flesh into stillness, slipping through cloudy childish thoughts and hunting down the last dregs of power.

His skin warmed suddenly, and he raised his head. Something was…

…different.

The mirror, he realized with a flash of surprise. That is the Mirror's voice…

~//~

Daisuke saw the eyes first, familiar eyes that stared through him, when the light parted like lacy clouds. Daisuke found he couldn't speak. Oh…my god… He took a step closer.

He saw a boy in elaborate and expensive looking clothing, the blue of the cloth fading to a brilliant white, the shine of silver. Tousled spiked hair-he knew that face, he knew that boy-

-Ken-

~//~

Ken saw, as the Mirror cleared, a cluttered room. Familiar. A boy, redheaded and small, wearing a t-shirt and paint-spattered jeans. Also familiar. A sweater was clutched in his fingers, and some object shoved into the front of his jeans. Ken blinked, as their eyes met across the worlds and opened his mouth to speak the words he couldn't find.

Daisuke!

Why is it showing me this? He watched the other boy step closer, then again until they were only inches apart, separated by a flimsy glass barrier. Why is it reacting? Why-

Daisuke reached up to touch the glass, as if to touch his face, and Ken instinctively shook his head.

The Kaizer whispered a warning to him. He's coming!

~//~

Daisuke watched, lungs struggling for air as the boy stared him down. The boy in the Mirror, the boy in his dreams, dressed differently and looking at him like he was doing something wrong. He couldn't think-didn't dare think about what this meant-and reached out a hand to touch him. He looked so real-!

Indigo eyes narrowed and the boy shook his head. He looked panicked. Something was wrong. The journal warmed against his stomach in a icy burning hot flare of sensation, and Daisuke gasped in a breath, clutching at it.

He's coming, something whispered. Hide. Hide quickly!

Daisuke was stubborn. Hiding wasn't something he did-frowning, mouth open to ask some question he was barely aware of-he stubbornly reached out a hand to see if the Mirror was as clear as it looked, if the boy was really there-

His fingers brushed a cool glassy surface, giving and somehow resistant. He pressed harder-sensing a warmth just on the other side.

//Fool!// the boy cried out, and raised up his own hands, trying to push him away without thinking about it-

-across the distance their fingers brushed, light exploding soundlessly into the room. It might have been a noise too loud to hear, it might have been nothing. For a brief flash all Daisuke saw was the light glaring, the eyes meeting his. The warmth of the fingers.

Something yanked at him, and Daisuke fell.

~//~

Yiru slammed into the room, his presence dark and malignant as the final flickering light of the Pool died away. "What is going on?" he whispered in a dreadful voice.

No one answered. The demon swept his eyes across the room, seeing the crouching shivering form of the scholar. I felt it. The Mirror-it called to someone. There is another! he thought. He was excited, a flush running through his pale winter-dead skin.

There is another!

He strode into the room, eyes sweeping around to the northern side-and paused.

The Kaizer was sprawled out against the wall, unmoving.

…my my…what could this mean…Unhurriedly, he strode to the slender form and stood staring down at it for a moment. The boy's skin was white, his eyes fluttering. Power reeked from his body. Yiru smiled gently, and knelt beside the boy.

He reached out, daring to taste that churning energy.

No, not yet, he cautioned himself. Instead, he pressed fingers to the smooth skin and stroked. "Child, wake and tell me-what did you do?"

The Kaizer gasped beneath his touch, eyes widening. Hands reached up instinctively, pushing him away. He stared up at the demon with bewildered eyes.

"What happened?" Yiru asked neutrally.

The boy slipped his eyes to the pool, to the absence of the water-formed Mirror, and they widened slowly. Then he choked out, "I don't…I don't know!"

~//~

He fell, he flew, he spun in the darkness and didn't know it was darkness, didn't understand. The light had vanished, had been eaten up by something else. Clouds spun by, the sun flashing somewhere above him. The air was thick like honey around him, making it hard to move. Hard to breath.

He fell.

When he opened his eyes, terrified and half-conscious, he saw an ocean reaching up to gather him-fell and spun and he was going to hit the water like a stone. He didn't have time to scream.

He fell, light playing across the surface in mercurial swirls, wondered why he couldn't breath-he was falling he needed to breath-

The air went cold, and he opened his mouth. Salty strange tasting water flowed in, choking him, the sunlight above/below him flashing painfully bright. He wasn't falling-he was already in the ocean-he kicked by instinct, pushing towards the surface. When his head broke into the air, the sun lancing across his eyes, he choked again as he tried to breath, spitting water.

He didn't know how he made it to the small sandy shore, past the water-splashed rocks and the weed-choked pools. He didn't know what had happened-he didn't know where he was. He pushed himself to a staggering stand, felt the sand sticking in itchy patches on his skin. His jeans were a wet torn mess around his legs, impeding and chafing.

He fell to his knees, then sprawled out into the sand, unconscious.

~~A/N~~

Mwah, there you have it! ^_^ all set up and waiting for ch. 4 now. Hope you weren't thown off too much. *grin* Next chapter-- Different worlds, Dai plays the Stranger, and…more Yiru! More Ken! *cackle*