Forever Alone (Chapters 1-4)

Prologue: Time

Time. It was such a simple word, yet it was so terrifying. It was new, yet old. It was loved, yet hated. It was simple, yet so complicated. It was short, yet long. Time was a word that contradicted itself. Seventeen-year-old Aris Ilan never gave time a second thought until his life was thrown into disarry seven years ago. On that fateful night so long ago, his family had been gunned down, and his house had exploded in a rush of incandescent flames. He'd escaped, though not without a price. His family, his childhood, his soul, had been lost. Something, and he wasn't sure what, had tipped him off that night. He'd sensed something and had managed to escape. Just as he'd entered his room that fateful night, the door had been broken down and reduced to a pile of splinters by three men in black. They'd gunned down his family, and he'd barely escaped the flames of destruction. He'd felt the flames hot on his back, wishing to yank him into its warmth, but somehow, he wasn't sure how exactly, he'd gotten away. Aris had been taken somewhere he hadn't even known existed. People hidded by ski masks had knocked him unconscious while he'd been running, and he'd woken up in a small, warm bed in a windowless room, the door locked. Time had changed his life. Time had taken him away from everything he had known, everything, and everyone, he had loved. And he could never return to it.

He was no longer Aris Ilan, a happy, carefree little boy. No, never again would he be that. He'd been trained, trained by people he hated, and had been punished for his mistakes. No, he was no longer Aris; that part of him was gone, forever. He had been given a knew name. Rakan Alrak. Rakan was his new name, his new life, his new everything. He would never be Aris Ilan again, and sometimes he wondered if Aris had even existed. Had he ever even been Aris? Or had he always been Rakan? He was no longer sure of his life anymore.

Numbly, he could vaguely recall a time when he had been happy. When he had laughed and cried like a little child, like the little boy that he had been. Now, those were just faint memories, growing fainter as time went on. Time. It had ruined everything. As a small child, time hadn't mattered. Now, it was the most important thing. He'd been unwillingly thrust into its clutches, and had yet been able to escape.

Aris Ilan didn't exist any longer, if he had even existed at all. No, he was no longer him, and never would be again. He was Rakan now, a fighter without anyone. He was alone. He was destined to be forever alone...lost in the clutches of time... He wasn't Aris any longer...

He was Rakan. Enemies beware.

Chapter One: Whispers in the Wind

Rakan stood alone on the tall hillside, gazing out over the land. His cyan blue eyes narrowed as he sensed a disturbance in the air. He wasn't sure how he sensed it, but he did. Just like he sensed a lot of things, just like he had sensed something that fateful night so long ago... Sighing, he glanced over at the setting sun, which exploded colors through the sky. Red, yellow, orange, blue, green, and purple colors raced across the sky, fighting for control. He let out a breath and watched as it hurried away from him with the evening breeze. It was early January, and cold, though he didn't mind. He didn't care anymore. Not about the cold. Not about anything, really. He cared very little for himself, and sometimes wondered if he cared at all. What was there to care about anymore? Maybe there had been something, a long time ago, to care about, but not anymore, as far as he was concerned. The wind picked up, and a few of his black blangs flew in front of his eyes, clinging to his face as if it were a life line. He didn't care though; it didn't bother him. His hair was longer than most of the other males that he knew, but he didn't care. Having it long reminded him of a happy memory when he was young. He couldn't remember much of the memory anymore, except that he had been happy in it, and his hair had been kind of long. It was now down to about his chin, and growing longer still. Maybe having his hair long was his way of rebelling against those he worked for. He wasn't sure, but he had always had it long.

He sighed and turned, heading down the trail that led into the woods just down the hill. He turned and gave one last look at the sun as it disappeared into the distance, sinking into the Earth. He let out a breath and began walking toward the dense set of trees, his eyes occasionally glancing around to see if he could see anything. There was definitely something out there, he just wasn't sure what. He mainly relied on his other senses, his smell, his hearing, his taste...and his senses. He could sense things, he knew. He got these feelings, and over the years, he'd learned to listen to them. Maybe...if he had listened to them sooner on the fateful night, he could have saved his family...he felt guilty at having been the only one that had survived, but sometimes he felt that they were the lucky ones. They were dead; they didn't have to go through the things he did.

No, he silently chided himself, that wasn't fair. It wasn't their choice to die. They hadn't had a choice; the door had been broken down, and BOOM, they were dead. It had been quick. But to him it had seemed so much longer...it had seemed like a lifetime. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He was expected to return to the Organization of Chaos soon. That wasn't its name, no...it was just what he called it. He was forced to work for it, though most times he didn't mind. But here lately things had changed, and his old raging hatred for it was rising up again.

He continued forward, slinking like a shadow through the trees, seemingly becoming one with the darkness that was falling around him. There was still something off, though...there was still a disturbance in the air of which he couldn't explain. It was different that what he had sensed before, and it confused him. His face, forever expressionless, forever void of emotion, gave nothing away about what he was feeling inside, what he was thinking.

The wind blew, and with it, it brought a sound. A whisper of distress, dancing through the breeze as if it were a street to him. He paused in his walking, listening, and then shook his head. The sound didn't come again, but he was sure he had heard it...he had heard something, anyway, though he wasn't sure what it was. He narrowed his blue eyes and gazed around. The air was foggy, but he didn't mind. In fact, he was used to walking in the fog. In the distance, barely visible through the fog, was a tree that had been struck by lightning. It had fallen over, and now lay at an angle. Birds cawed up above, and for a moment he was tempted to look up, but resisted the urge and it soon went away. This was the woods, he reminded himself. Creatures lived here. Birds liked the tall treetops, and that was probably where their caws were coming from. He stood utterly still and closed his eyes, letting out a soft, inaudible breath. Silence took over, but he didn't mind. He was used to the quiet, and often preferred it. In the distance, the whisper came again. He frowned inside, but outside his expression remained the same. He listened intently, knowing that he wasn't just hearing things. Once again, the whisper, carried by the wind, broke the silence that had taken over for a brief time.

"Help me..." a distressed voice echoed around him. Chills ran throughout his body, and he knew there was something seriously wrong. His suspicions were confirmed. Someone was out there, and they needed his help. But did he dare get involved? His senses were going crazy, and he knew there was danger out there, but he couldn't just leave the person, whoever they were. He was torn. What should he do?

Rakan sighed and began walking once more, at a faster pace, cutting through the fog like a knife cuts through butter. He would get back, and then return later with help. There was no sense in jumping into something he knew nothing about. It was dangerous, and that could do more harm than good, no matter how good his intentions were. The fog seemed to grow thicker as he went on, and now it was like a steak knife cutting through a thick steak. He frowned, inside, and continued pushing foreward. A root stuck up a few feet in front of him, and he almost noticed it too late. His foot caught on it slightly, but he managed to catch himself before he could fall. Silently cursing the root, and pressed onward.

The night came seemingly out of nowhere just as the fog began to let up. It hit him like a wave, almost knocking him off of his feet. He didn't have to be a genius to know that this darkness was unnatural. He could feel it in his veins, could feel it all around him. He could feel it in his very being, and there was a coldness in the air that made him shiver. The cold, originally, had never bothered him before. Now, though, it seemed things were changing. The coldness hit him in a rush, right after the darkness, and seeped into him as he breathed, making him feel cold within. Not just cold, either. It made him shiver and get flashes of terrible memories in the back of his mind, and though he tried to push them away and forget about them, tried to keep his mind clear, he could not. Now he was worried, though his face, his eyes, remained expressionless and void of emotion, of any hint that he was worried or upset.

Pushing foreward, trying to ignore the memories, the terror, flashing through his mind, he took in a calming breath, trying to keep himself going at a steady pace so as not to look as if he were frightened. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that it was never good to show signs of fear, especially to an enemy that would kill you in a heartbeat. The breeze danced around him, rustling the limbs of the trees. He heard the birds caw again, and almost flinched, but managed to catch himself in time.

'Okay,' he thought to himself. 'Rakan, calm down. You're fine. Just keep going.' He wasn't so sure, though. Was he okay? Who, or what, was out there, trying to scare him? What was going on? He shook his head. There would be time for questions later, but right now, he had to get out of here and back to the Organization of Chaos. He had to report in, and give information about the area he had examined, and about what he was feeling now, about the voice he had heard in the wind. There had been a voice, he was certain of that. He had heard it; he hadn't just been hearing things, it had been there. He was sure of it. He wasn't going crazy. If he were to go crazy, he would have done so long ago. Why would he suddenly go insane now?

He pushed forward, thoughts racing about in his mind. His mind was so clouded by thoughts that he didn't notice the tree root sticking out up ahead, nor how the trees clustered together, nor how the gentle slope came, along with rocks. He didn't notice it...not until it was too late. But that was just him, it seemed. Always too late. Too late to save his family, too late to escape the men in ski masks...too late for everything.

'What the?' he thought as his foot caught on the root. Before he knew it, he was sent flying forward, where he collided, hard, with a tree, and spun, landing on his back and rolling down the slope. The last thing he knew was a stabbing pain in his head as it came in contact with a rock. For a moment, everything was red...and then there was no more.

Chapter Two: Destruction of Life

Ten-year-old Aris Ilan stood in his small, two-story house in the small village of Arma. He gazed out the window, laughing as his father told a joke. His father, Riach, was sitting in a wooden chair on the other side of the room, sitting next to his wife and Aris' older brother, Yasu. Yasu, two years older than him at the age of twelve, looked more like their father. Riach had chestnut brown hair and sparkling amber eyes. Yasu had the same look, the same hair, the same eyes, while he, Aris, took after their mother. He had her blue eyes, her black hair... His younger sister Mosi was curled up on the floor, under a blanket, her head resting on a pillow. She was sound asleep. At the age of eight, she took after their mother too. For a moment Aris looked over at her and smiled, his eyes bright and affectionate. A banner hung on the wall which read 'Happy Birthday, Aris!'. His birthday had been two days before, and they had yet to take the banner down. He didn't mind; he liked the banner. So long as it was up, he got extra attention. In a family of three children, it was hard to get extra attention, and when you got it, you cherished it.

A sudden throb in his chest sent a signal to his mind. He frowned then, and shook his head. All day, he'd been getting strange feelings in the pit of his stomach. It was like he was supposed to know something, supposed to do something. But what? He was a kid; what was he to do? It was Christmas Break at school; he didn't have homework, so what was he somehow trying to tell himself? He didn't understand.

Yasu looked over at his little brother and smiled. "Like your birthday gifts, Aris?" he asked casually, not having any idea in the slightest of what was going on his little brother's mind.

Aris shook his head and looked at Yasu. He smiled shyly and gave a slight nod of his head. "Yeah, they're great. Thanks again, everyone," he said, looking from his brother to his father to his mother, and back again. Mosi's finger twitched in her slumber, but she didn't awaken.

"Hmm," his father mumbled, looking at Mosi. "Wonder why she's so tired..." he looked at Aris and smiled. "You been keeping her busy, boy?"

He had to laugh at that. He shook his head and moved away from the window to join his family by the fire. "Yeah. I guess tag was just too much for here. She just doesn't have as much energy as she used to." he had to smile to himself, remembering how hyper his younger sister had always been. "Remember when she was littler? She used to be practically bouncing off of the walls."

His mother, Tersa, nodded and laughed. "Yeah," she commented, her voice warm and full of love. "I remember. Thank God she's out of that stage. She kept me up all night, making me play with her."

They all had a good laugh, remembering when Mosi had been younger. They were still laughing when Aris suddenly stopped, a knot in his stomach, his breath somehow caught in his throat. He frowned and stumbled toward the stairs. Somehow, he knew he should leave the room. Somehow, and he wasn't sure how, he knew something was coming. He almost told his family to leave the room, to leave the house, but stopped himself as he stepped onto the stairs. They would think him strange, suddenly announcing that they all had to leave. If he couldn't think of a good reason to make them leave, they wouldn't move an inch.

A feeling of dread crept upon him, and he felt uneasy, as if he were being watched. Now he knew something was wrong, and sought shelter in his room. If there was one place he thought safe, it was in his room. His room had always been his sanctuary. Yasu and Mosi weren't allowed to enter, and if they did without his permission, they got in trouble, and were sometimes grounded. Now, it was the place he wanted to be. He felt the need, suddenly, to crawl under his bed and hide like he used to do when he was little, when he had a bad dream or thought there were monsters hiding in his room.

He grasped his door handle, and something like a warning went off inside of him, making him suck in a sharp breath, his heart beating painfully quick, hammering away at his chest, begging to break free. He half expected it to leap out of his chest and onto the floor, but it never did. He hurried into his room, and shut the door behind him, leaning his back against the door, taking in deep breaths.

Just as he shut his door, he heard the door downstairs get broken down. There was a noise like thunder, and cry from his mother. The cry, pained and distraught, was suddenly cut off, and he heard Mosi cry out the words, "Mother, no! Daddy, wake up!" and then there was another sound of thunder, and her voice died out. Yasu cried out her name, but before he could finish it, his voice left too, in a rush of noise.

Aris, his heart racing wildly in his chest, his eyes glistening with tears, sunk to the ground, his back still leaning against the door. "No..." he heard himself whisper, but it sounded so far away. Somehow, he knew what had happened. Somehow, he knew they were gone. He knew he was alone. "No, no, no, no, no..." he clenched his eyes tightly closed as they suddenly flooded with tears. He buried his face in his hands, and silent sobs wracked his body. He took in shaky breaths, the tears racing out from under his eyelids. "No...please, no..." he felt, more than heard, himself say.

It was then that he heard footsteps on the stairs, and briefly had hope raise his spirits. He lifted his head, his cheeks tear-stained, and moved away from the door.

"...Yasu? Mom? Dad?...Mosi?" he whispered. He got to his feet, taking in shaky breaths. "Please..." then he heard voices. They were speaking in a language he did't understand, and he knew he had to get out of there. In an instant, his hopes had been raised, and now they were crushed. They were broken into a million pieces which pierced his heart like needles, making it seem to shatter. "No..." he choked out in a sob as a wave of sadness hit him. "No..." he hugged himself tightly, suddenly feeling oh-so-very alone. "No, please...Please, you...no..."

Footsteps echoed outside of his door, and he silenced his sobs, though it seemed to kill him a little more inside. He backed away, slowly, from the door, glaring at it with a saddened, broken gaze. The happiness, the love, that had been there before was gone now. He backed away until he could back away no more. His back hit the wall, and try as he might to become one with it, he couldn't.

Something pounded against his door, and a tear trailed down his cheek. 'No,' he thought to himself. 'I don't...I don't want to die...' he wanted to crawl into a hole and wake up and have this all be a dream, a terrible nightmare. It was a nightmare alright, but it was real, and there was no waking up from it. His door knob rattled, and then he saw it start to turn as the person on the other side started to open it.

He sucked in a breath and stood utterly still, his heart hammering away at his chest, desperately trying to break free and escape. Escape. He paused and looked out his window. It wasn't that far of a drop, really. He had never jumped out of the window before, but he willing to do it to escape this place of death.

He suddenly smelled smoke, and his cyan eyes widened greatly as he shot a glance at the door. He could see the flames as they began to eat away at the door. The flames danced in his eyes, and he turned away, facing the window once more. He swallowed thickly, struggling to calm himself, but his effort was in vain. There was no way to stay calm in a time like this. He carefully slid his window open and gazed out at the cold night, shivering slightly. He looked back and saw the flames slithering into his room. It was either the flames or the jump. One or the other.

He chose the jump, and leapt out the window, the flames chasing after him. He hit the ground, rolled once, and then came to a stop. He lay there for a moment, dazed, his arm hurting a little. He slowly rose to his knees and glanced at his arm. It didn't look that bad, just bruised. Looking up at the window, he saw the flames start to race down the side of the house, seemingly coming for him. His eyes widened once more, and he struggled to his feet. He stumbled slightly, but managed to catch himself.

'Run,' he thought to himself. 'Run, you fool, run!' He began racing down the small hill the house was on, and felt the flames right behind him. Tears glimmering in his cyan blue eyes, he dove into the trees, sobs beginning to wrack his body once more. Try as he might to silence them, to push them back and keep quiet, he couldn't. They pushed their way forward and escaped him before he knew what to do. He collapsed to the ground after tripping over something, and lay there, on his stomach, his head buried in his arms, his body shaking with shaky sobs.

"Gone..." he choked out in a broken voice. "All gone...no...oh, please no...please..." tears raced down his cheeks and onto the dirt-covered ground. "No...p-please...no..." the sobs became harsher, and try as he might to stop crying, he could not.

He was suddenly overcome with a wave of sadness, a wave of lonliness, and screamed out his anger, his hatred, his fear, his sorrow. He knew no one would hear him, but he felt the need to get it off of his chest.

"Why?" he cried, his voice broken and lost, and sounding nothing like himself. He hardly recognized his voice, but he knew it was him. "Why? What have I done to deserve this?" the sobs came again. "Oh God...oh please no...p-please no..." his words dissolved in sobs and cries of sorrow and anguish. He felt numb; he couldn't feel the cold around him, didn't even notice it. Even as the wind picked up and blew dirt into his face, he didn't notice. He was in a world of his own, a world where he went over the last few minutes with his family...

Rakan shot into a sitting position, almost instantly wishing he hadn't, as his head throbbed insistantly and painfully, and his body pleaded with him to lie back down. He groaned and fell back onto the bed, his head on a pillow. He frowned then. Why was he in a bed? Hadn't he...hadn't he been in the woods? Wait...what had he been doing in the woods? He struggled to remember, but couldn't think past the fog in his mind, the pain in his head. He gazed up at the white ceiling for a moment, his mind racing. 'What a dream...' he thought to himself. 'It...felt like I was there again...' he shivered at the thought. He never wanted to experience that again. He had thought that he was over his family, that that night was forgotten. He had tried so hard to get it out of his mind, but it was apparnatly still there, tormenting him in his sleep. He glanced around the small room he was in. The walls were a light tan color, or at least he thought they were. He couldn't see that well. It was dark in the room, and dark outside the window; his eyes hadn't had time to adjust yet. He groaned and closed his eyes, his head pounding in his ears.

"I see you're awake," a kind, soft voice said as he heard a door open. He froze for a moment, and then slowly, carefully, opened his eyes. Standing there, in front of the bed, was a male with mahogany colored hair as long as his, if not longer. The male's auburn eyes sparkled, and Rakan found himself frowning. "I was worried about you there for a moment; I thought you'd never wake up." the voice sounded amused and light.

Rakan paused and tried to find his voice. When he did, he croaked out, "Who...Who are you?"

Chapter Three: Friend or Foe?

The male smiled warmly and chuckled. "I wouldn't talk just yet if I were you," he said, his voice amused. "You took quite a hit to the head, you know." he paused for a moment, and then shrugged. "But if you must know, I'm Kasa Makna. My friends call me Kasa." he smiled again. "What do I call you?"

Rakan frowned for a moment. Should he give out his name? Was that wise? Kasa didn't seem to mean him harm, but he couldn't be sure of that. He sighed. Oh well, Rakan wasn't his real name anyway. It didn't matter. He knew that if Kasa got people after him, the organization would just change his name. "...I...I'm Rakan," he whispered, and scowled inside. How could he be showing such weakness? Hadn't he trained for this? Why was he feeling so out of it? He mentally cursed himself for a few seconds before he realized that Kasa was looking at him. "Um...thanks..."

Kasa smiled, auburn eyes aglow. "No problem. What? Do you think I'd just leave you out there? I may be considered strange, but I'm not that cruel." he chuckled to himself, before he paused and frowned in concern, his voice turning soft. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, and Rakan knew, somehow, that his voice was full of genuine concern.

Rakan floundered for a moment. Why did Kasa seem so worried? No one had ever really worried about him before...except for his family, but he had somehow gotten them killed. He wasn't sure how he knew that it was his fault, but he did. That was the only conclusion he could come too. Someone, and he didn't know who, had been after him that night, and had succeeded in killing his family, but not in killing him. He had escaped. Why would anyone be after him? He had been ten; what could he have done? He shook his head briefly, clearing hsi thoughts. Now wasn't the time nor the place to be thinking about that.

"Hello? Anyone home?" came Kasa's voice, and the next thing he knew, a hand was waving in front of his eyes. He blinked a few times, and focused on the male standing in front of him, smiling. The smile was off, though. It was concerned, and somehow Rakan knew that the concern was for him. Kasa was actually concerned for him, and that struck him as odd. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah...Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled, glaring at the covers as he sat up, ignoring the way his head pounded, the way his body begged for him to lie back down.

Kasa frowned. "Are you sure? Because you don't look so good..."

"I'm fine, don't worry," he responded in a quiet voice. "...Why...did you help me?"

Kasa paused for a moment. "Because. I can't just leave you out there when you need help. I can't just...do nothing." he shrugged. "It's just the way I am, I guess."

Rakan smiled in his head. "Yeah, I guess so."

"...I still don't know your name."

"...Rakan. It's Rakan. Rakan Alrak."

"Nice to meet you, Rakan," said Kasa, his voice pleasant. He sat down at the foot of the bed, looking outside the window into the darkness.

"Yeah, likewise, Kasa," he replied, still looking down at the covers. "I...thanks...for what you did."

"No prob," said Kasa, smiling widely. Rakan paused for a moment. Who was this guy? Why was he so nice? Was it some kind of facade? Or...was he really just that kind, that caring? Never before had Rakan ran into anyone who had been this nice to him, this concerned about him. Mostly he'd had to just fend for himself, but not Kasa was helping him. Was it an act? Did Kasa want him dead? "How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?"

Rakan shook his head. "I'm okay. Yeah, it hurts, but I can deal with it. I feel okay."

"...Are you sure?" Kasa's voice was concerned.

"Yeah...I'm sure," he said quietly. It was hard to think of this kind person wanting to cause any harm to him, any harm to anyone really. But still, he knew he had to be on his guard. He knew he had to watch Kasa, and make sure he wasn't suddenly going to turn on him and try to kill him. He had been trained not to trust anyone, but maybe he could trust Kasa, if only a little. Kasa was kind; he wouldn't harm a fly, he was sure.

But then again, looks could be deceiving... he had to be ready to kill Kasa if he had to. Suddenly he didn't like himself. He didn't want to kill this kind person. But if he had to, he knew he had to do it...

He was really starting to hate his life. More so than usual.

Chapter Four: Peaceful Life

Rakan sighed as he opened his eyes, yawning as he did so. Dreams. He hated them, but he hadn't always. No, as a young kid, he had loved them. He had loved dreaming, where anything was possible. Now, he just hated it. Dreams brought back memories of his past, and that wasn't something he wanted to remember. The past was a raw spot for him still to this day, even though he acted and pretended like everything was fine. It still got to him when he thought of his family, and they were in most of his thoughts, most of his happy memories. The saying was true, he now knew. There was no escaping the past. You had to face it, and live with it every day of your life until it decided to leave, and it never would. Sighing, he brought his feet over the side of the bed, only then realizing that the headache he'd had for the past three days was gone. He smiled inside, thankful that he was now free fromt he pain. He slowly got to his feet and stretched, yawning again as he did so. He could smell food coming from the kitchen, and knew that Kasa was already up, already active and cooking breakfast. He smiled to himself then. He was really beginning to like Kasa; he was nice, and never thought of himself. He was always thinking of Rakan, and putting him first. Rakan's first impressions had been correct. Kasa was a kind hearted person who wouldn't harm a fly even if it flew into his brain and gave him brain damage. He could forgive the worst of sins, as Rakan had come to find out. Kasa had said the night before that he even forgave the worst of killers, even the ones who had murdered his family. That was something the two of them had in common; Kasa's family had been killed too. But unlike Kasa, Rakan didn't forgive the people for killing his family. What had his family ever done to anyone? They hadn't done a thing, yet they had been killed as if they were nothing. No, as if they were less than nothing. As if they were lower than dirt. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the memories to leave him alone. Rakan sighed and walked down the stairs, entering the kitchen. He smiled a good morning to Kasa, who smiled back and nodded in return. "There's your food," Kasa said, gesturing at the table. A plate of bacon and eggs sat there, and Rakan nodded his thanks as he took his seat. Eating quietly, a comfortable silence fell over them. Kasa sat down and began to eat his food, and the two finished within minutes. Kasa picked the plates up and rinsed them off, putting them in the sink. "I'll wash them later, I suppose," he said. Rakan only nodded. "So, sleep well?" Kasa asked as he sat back down.

Rakan nodded again. "Yeah," he said. "I did. You?"

Kasa nodded. "Mmm hmm. Yup. I woke up early though, and couldn't get back to sleep. I decided to get up, and well...here we are," he said, gesturing around at the kitchen in general. Rakan nodded and found himself smiling. It had been a long time since he had really truly smiled, but here was, doing it. Kasa was just that kind of person, he noticed. Kasa could get along with anyone. "So," he said, yawning. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Rakan paused. "Whatever," he said. "I don't care."

"Me neither," said Kasa, frowning in thought. "Hmm...I dunno," he said, shrugging with a shake of his head. "We could-" he was cut off by a knock at the back door, which happened to be located in the kitchen. "Hmm..." murmured Kasa. "I'm not expecting anyone...in fact, no one comes here..." he shrugged and got to his feet to answer the door.

Rakan, on the other hand, shook his head, his senses going wild. "No," he nearly shouted as he rose to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "Don't open it."

Kasa blinked at him, frowning. "Why not?" he asked. "It's rude to leave people waiting." He made a move to grab the door knob, but Rakan grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Rakan?" Kasa asked, confused.

Rakan shook his head. "Just...don't answer it," he said quietly. "Please...?" he frowned. He hadn't said please in a long time, yet here he was, pleading with Kasa not to open the door. "We have to get out of here..."

"...Why? I live here; I can't just leave."

Rakan, though, wasn't giving him a choice. He pulled Kasa out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the front door. Sighing in relief, he felt that whatever it was that was making his senses go crazy wasn't at the front door yet. "C'mon," he said, hurrying along, pulling Kasa with him. "Hurry."

Kasa didn't resist, but Rakan knew he was confused. "...I don't understand-"

"I know you don't," Rakan cut in. "And I don't expect you to. You just have to trust me," he said as he threw the front door open. "Do you trust me, Kasa?"

"Yeah," Kasa said without hesitation, and Rakan nearly flinched. Kasa was so quick to trust him, yet he hadn't been completely honest with him. Though he felt guilty, he continued along. They raced through the yard, and Kasa yanked away from him when the house they had been in just seconds before suddenly went up in incandescent flames. Staring at the flames, wide eyed, Kasa was frozen in place. "W...What?" he spluttered.

Rakan frowned and grabbed his arm again. "Come on," he said. "We have to get out of here." he yanked Kasa along after him. Kasa was in too much shock to resist.