i. For A Love That Once Was

	Grief did the strangest things to you.

	He was just a young man taking a walk to clear his head. So what if it was a dark alley?
 There was no dead end here, and as far as he was concerned, it was a good thing. He didn't have 
to turn back, and he could keep walking.

	With a sigh, he leaned back against one of the buildings and fished a packet of cigarette
 from his coat. These late night walks were becoming all too frequent, and Lan and Gingetsu were 
becoming worried. But this was better than moping around the house. The least he could do was 
take his brooding outside and spare them the misery.

	With a cigarette between his teeth, he took out the silver lighter from a pocket and 
turned it over in his hands. It had been a present from Orhua.

	Orhua.

	Even now, his heartstrings still twisted at her name.

	Funny, how he thought after a time he would no longer feel any more pain. The ache in his
 chest called him a fool.

	Now there was another reason to hurt. The Four-Leaf and the whole Fairy Park incident. 
Old feelings had been dragged to the surface again, and the memories kept spilling into his 
dreams like one neverending horror slide-show. Sometimes he had to stop and check himself to 
see whether he was still in the present or lost somewhere in the 'otherworld' of his mind.

	He took a long drag and breathed out a lazy cloud of smoke. Was that footsteps coming 
closer that he heard? Frankly, footsteps had lost a lot of their drama a long time ago. These had
 all the nervous quality of a frightened animal, a light tread broken by dread-filled pauses, 
like someone tiptoeing over a rickity bridge. It didn't exactly sound like whoever it was 
spoiling for a fight.

	'Whoever it was' was really a child. A girl who couldn't have been more that eleven by 
the looks of her.

	The child was cupping something carefully in her hands. If you could see the way she 
carried it, you would have thought it was a prized jewel, a convented treasure.

	She walked up to the man hesistantly, looking down every other step to make sure it was 
still there.

	"Kazuhiko Faye Ryuu, sir?" 

	It had been a long time since anyone had called him by his full name. The voice was 
measured and stiffly formal and he could detect a trace of a forgien accent in it. It couldn't 
be anyone he knew.

	"Hmm?" He turned slowly, letting the cigarette between his fingers fall to the ground. 
He ground it out with the heel of his shoes, and looked up to see the child with her arms 
outstretched, small hands curved inwards, thumbs touching, cradling a gray shadow with uttermost 
care.

	"A gift," she said, and opened her hands to show him. It was plain, non-descript box, 
a perfect cube, six faces an equal shade of dark gray. "From a friend, for you alone."

	'For you alone'. Typical. The half the actual thing was probably a chunk of protection 
code. "What is the password?"

	"You need only to say 'Open'."

	Oh, voice recognition. Pretty fancy programming involved to make it exclusive for him. 
Whatever the gift was, it must be important. "Okay."

	For the first time since their meeting, the girl lifted her head and looked at him. With 
a start, he realized her eyes were a brilliant green, like Suu's, only colder and more piercing. 
She was younger than he had imagined, but her features had a hardness to them that made you 
think twice about patting her head and offering her candy.

	"Give me your hand." It wasn't a request; more of a command.

	He stretched out his left hand and before he knew what was happening, the box was on his 
palm and the girl was standing rigid and very straight with her arms at her sides. His skin 
prickled; the box felt like metal, cold and unyielding to the touch.

	"I wish you farewell," she saluted him with a sardonic grin. Then, her eyes softened and 
she whispered, "And good luck."

	Turning on her heel, she dashed up the street in a mad sprint. When he started to call 
out to her, she was already a flickering outline beneath the streetlamps. Further up, she rounded 
a corner and disappeared.

	For a long time he stood there, staring into the distance, lost in thought. Who was that 
girl?

	Finally, he shook himself out of his revery, and remembered the box in his hands. He 
must have unconciously been walking, because now he was out of the alley, on the main road.

	Looking down at the cold weight in his hands, curiousity got the better of him. Looking 
around, the found that it was deserted, with only the occasional passing traffic. It was as if 
even the world was acknowledging his presence, the lights had been dimmed and the noise had been 
muted so he could be alone.

	Keeping a straight-face, he spoke to the box, "Open."

	The edges of the box flared white and then unfolded smoothly with a hiss. Half-expecting 
a holographic message, he kept his eyes on the space above box, and felt an odd sense of 
disappointment when nothing of the sort happened.

	Looking back down, he caught his breath and almost dropped the whole thing in surprise.

	There, suspended in the base of box, was a pile of earth with a single small plant in the 
middle. It looked out of place surrounded by so much soil.

	He took two steps until he was in the light of a streetlamp. Shifting, he brought up the 
plant hesistantly to his face for a closer look.

	It couldn't be.

	But it was.

	Four perfectly symetrical heart-shaped leaflets, fragile, translucent, veined emerald.

	'... a... four... leaf... clover... ...'

	"That crazy bastard," he whispered hoarsely.

	"Close." The box obidently folded back together.

	Cupping it in his hands, he let his feet carry him home.