Author's Note: Yes, I'm sorry. The much overused rose does come into play. Other than that, the only thing I really feel I need to comment on is the changing syntax. The unexpected, unmarked shifts (for example, referring to a character as "you" and then "her") are deliberate. This is all written from inside Kojiro's mind, and he changes from addressing the people in his thoughts directly to just thinking about them. I'm sorry if this is confusing to anyone. Also, for anyone who doesn't know the Japanese names very well, Yamato is Cassidy. Just though I'd mention her since she's the least-known and the most out of character.

Trust in Darkness

by Blackswan15 (Meredith C.)

Part Two

Beautiful things can be painful.

That's probably the first lesson I ever learned. One of the only things I carried away from my old life. That no matter how wonderful something may seem on the outside, you should never trust it.

The knowledge is the only think I have to thank my fiancée for. She taught me to look past the masks.

Beautiful things... Musashi.

She was so different from everybody else. Her masks, they were walls. Meant to drive people away, rather than lure them in. A girl with more thorns than a rose. I thought I knew you. That I had found the flower. That somewhere inside was a sweet, lonely child. I dreamed of watching you grow up.

Damn you.

So much for my perfect insight.

I trusted you.

Why did she leave?

I suppose I can understand. Rationally. Rocket-Dan... well, it's no way to live.

But I would never have abandoned her.

Hell, if I saw her today, if she told me to come, I'd go. Follow her without thinking, without caring where we were going.

Because she needs me.

Because I need her too.

I should never have involved myself. Should have learned from the past.I thought she cared.

With a slow, gentle motion, I run my finger along the stem of my rose, slitting the skin of my pad. I can't even feel it. A thin line of red wells up, running into the lines of my fingerprint. Red as rose petals. Red as her hair.Roses are red, violets are blue. Roses are red, violets are blue.Roses are the flower of love and romance.

How many times did I say that to her?

Beautiful things can be painful.

And did she ever understand?

Roses are red...

"Kojiro!"

I jump and hastily stick my finger into my mouth, sucking. The taste stains my tongue. Then I remove the finger, hoping that my- my- my mind stumbles and balks at words like 'partner' and 'teammate', that SHE won't notice the thin cut. See that I've done it again

But I can tell by her face that she's been there a while. Watching me. With Musashi, I always knew exactly where she was. Though I didn't admit it when I woke up that afternoon, I knew she was gone. Laughing with Nyasu, I denied what my soul felt. It was Nyasu, of course, who said what I wouldn't. "She stole 'em! Musashi stole our stolen badges!"

I still wouldn't listen. Fanatically, I made excuses, half believing. Maybe something terrible had happened to her. She wouldn't have abandoned us. That wasn't something my Musashi would do to me.

My Musashi. Hah.I refused to understand Nyasu. I remember an argument. I don't know what I said. I was too busy holding myself together. Because everything I had said was a lie. She had left me.

In my mind, I went back to the moment when she had taken the badges."Don't go," I screamed inside, "Musashi, don't leave me!" She walked away.God, it hurt.

Finally, Nyasu backed away. "Face facts, Koji-chan. She's gone.""Don't call me that," I snapped. Automatic reaction. I've been cut up inside into a thousand pieces, and I still do it.

Everything I did, all I've done for four years- it's been for her. For friendship. A chance to belong.

She just threw four years of my life away. Eight little pins are worth more to her than me.

I bled salt tears that day."You're thinking about her again." She glares down at me. It's not a question.I spin the rose between my fingers. "So?" I mutter. Even a master of the spoken word.

I'm sure she rolls her eyes. "So don't you think it's been long enough? She's been gone for weeks."

I have nothing to say to her.

"Look." She folds herself up so that she's sitting next to me. "She could have come back. Sakaki gave her that choice. She wanted to be reassigned."I stare at my feet. There's mud in the seam of my left boot. Dirty black-brown.She laughs softly. "It's funny, though. I don't think I ever thought of you two separately."

I pull a petal off my rose.

"Saw you as kind of a pair."

Two petals.

"You know, I always thought you'd make the sweetest-"

I don't want to hear this. I stand up and go to my pack, trying to think of something to look for. The rose petals flutter from my lap to the ground.Yamato is silent. She doesn't need to say anything. My traitor mids replays her words.

I don't think I ever thought of us separately either. Musashi, Kojiro, Rocket Dan, Us.

She wanted to be reassigned.

And part of me still won't believe it.

I wish Yamato would go away. She's not my partner. I have no partner, just this aching hole in my chest, the constant sense of betrayal that numbs me to all other pain.

There are many cuts on my fingers.

There are many cracks in my dreams.

I give up on pretending to look for something and rest my head on the pack before me.

Suddenly I feel Yamato's hands on my shoulders. Gloves supple and cool, even through the fabric of my jacket. I want to recoil, but her fingers refuse.

"Please. I want to help you, Kojiro." She says it softly, totally at odds with everything I know about her. "If you'd just talk to me. I really do know how hard this must be for you." I can feel her shift her body weight forward."The thorns of my rose cut into my left palm. I didn't realize I'd clenched my hands into fists.

I didn't know I was still holding the rose.

"Kojiro," she whispers.

Something about her voice... this quiet, it reminds me of Musashi...

I jerk away, tripping sideways, my body threatening revolt.

"I'm going for a walk," I mutter.

She stares at me, almost sulking. "Fine," she snaps.

There's a stream not too far from our camp. I hit rocks into it, and they splash satisfyingly.

I will never stop thinking about her.

Yamato and that pathetic little attempt at... what?

What does she want? Why did I hear Musashi. It isn't Musashi she makes me think of.

No. But I know her Why she makes me cringe and shrink away. So much like Rumika.

Autumn. The leaves are bright gold and crisp brown. Ready to fall at a breath, slipping gently into the air. But the grass and walkways bellow stay immaculately clean. Perfect. Lifeless. The boys feet slap against them without impediment.

I know that he is me, because I can see the world through his eyes. I will spend the rest of my life trying to distance myself from him.

I will never be able to.

I remember that I could hardly run. Blind anger must have kept me on my feet. The few tears I could not keep in stung deeply into the cut on my cheek.Behind the great white house the captured leaves are hidden. A great pile of them waiting to be burned. I fall into them greatfully, despite the fact that the new bruises on my shoulders protest that I'm ignoring them. I've already learned how to forget pain.

Physical.

It's worse than usual today. My parents are gone on business, not even here to turn a blind eye. I honestly don't know if they condone what's going on or if they just refuse to see.

How could they not notice?

Because they never look at me anyway. Just "the heir."

"Damn them," says the Kojiro in the rubbish pile.

"Damn them," I echo from the bank of the stream.

The worst part is, she could be beautiful. But when I think of her, I'm sick with hate. Her languid, refined voice terrifies me like no other.When I met her, I hated her. Sweet little face, simpering perfection. I tried though. I wanted things to get better. Didn't want to make her mad. But the harder I tried, the harder she pushed me.

One evening, as she was correcting the way I held a soup spoon, I dared to glare at her across the table.

And I understood.

Her eyes. Bight and expectant. Evil. She was waiting for me to snap, wanting me to defy her.

Don't do it.

Don't cross her.

I put down the spoon. "And what if I don't want to?"

She lent across the table and slapped me. "Do it."

"Ooooow!" I whined.

"Don't be a baby. A true gentleman never shows his feelin's."

A true gentleman. Already I hated the words. A true gentleman became everything I stood against. If I gave up trying to resist her, she criticized me more. If I rebelled, she hit me. Infrequently at first, then everyday. Soon kicks and punches. One day she broke a glass on the back of my neck as I tuned away from her. I spent the afternoon trying to clean out my cuts.My fingers slide up the back of my neck to feel the scars I still carry. I began growing my hair out on that day, and I will never wear it short again.When I began to ignore what she did to me, she abused me verbally too."You're stupid, worthless. No one will ever give a damn about you!"Maybe she was right. Musashi doesn't care either.

No. It's not true. I'm not stupid. Sometimes it takes me a while to put my thoughts into words. I don't always know how to say something and make it sound the way it does inside.

I know I act like an idiot sometimes. Trying too hard to hide the secrets.The cracks in my dreams.

I'm not stupid... but Musashi left me. It hurts more than anything Rumika ever did to me. Because I never cared about Rumika.

I remember the day the boy Kojiro lay in the leaves. His heart felt like mine does now. Secure in the knowledge that no one cares.

On that day, I ran from my life.

On that day, I began my journey toward Musashi...

End of Part Two

I'm not one of those people who minds criticism (hint, hint.) Anyway, I have a choice to make here, and I'd like some help. I know there are many, many "how they met" fics. Want my take on it? Or should I cut to the chase?>

Any suggestions, comments, feedback? E-mail Meredith at a_rose_4_james@hotmail.com