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Yeah... since it wont be a book... (that i know of... yet... it might work its way in there... ) its just a continued story... go read part one in the previous post...

AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!! pwees tell may... she wants to know... okay?


May's life: v.v... shitty...


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Dapon sat there for a moment, panting, trying to calm himself down before picking the dream apart. His dreams often held a warning of sorts, a type of premonition, especially the more vivid.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed, drawing his knees to his chest trying to console himself. There was no trace of blood on his hands, he reassured himself, and Kuri was safe in the village a good few days walk away. Shuddering slightly, he forced the last reassurance out of his mind. He was too far to get there if something truly was happening, or had happened.

"Maybe it's time," he said with a sigh, looking around the small dank cave as the rain still pittered outside. Rising to his feet, he wandered to the mouth, brushing the dirt off his pants and bare skin that had accumlated there in the few hours of sleep. His scarlet eyes scanned the rain as he leaned against the wall, dancing about the the hints of red slipping through the clearing clouds off in the distance: the direction of Milan; of his long gone home. He closed his eyes, absentmindedly chewing on his knuckle, pondering his predicament. "Can't help but wonder what happened to her," he said to the slowly warming air.

He sighed and turned around, picking up his dark blue tank, and pulling it over his head. He raked his fingers across the scarlet tuft of hair, pulling it away from the deep scar across his eye. "Wonder what she'll think about this..." he laughed softly, knowing full well what she may think.

He wandered slowly back to his small camping area and gathered up his supplies, not looking forward returning to the town of oogling girls. He pictured them falling for his new scar, saying that it made him so much more manly than the men in town, simply because he had left and faced the dangers that most refused to return from. He imagined the men hissing whispers about him as he walked by, for the same reason. Despite it all, he had to return, for many reasons.

Something pale green in his bag caught his attention as he stuffed the last of his provisions in the bag. "Wha--?" he pulled it out, recognizing Kuri's letter for him. The only she had written. At least the only he had recieved in the two years. Of course, he had not had the time, nor the ability to write her back since he recieved it. It arrived in his hands the day before he was attacked, and he had not read it ... much ... since then.

He opened it and scanned through it, his good eye focusing on the final bit:


I really hope you aren't gone too long, Dapon. It's only been a few weeks, but I already miss you dearly. I never confessed to you before, but the day we met, and actually talked face to face, I fell in love. Been in love since too. No doubt you're having incredible adventures, but I still cannot wait until you return. I'll watch for you every day!

Love always

Kuri

P.S. First time I've ever written that name. Was it really strange to see it?


He kept himself from crumpling the letter by dropping it, cursing himself for not writing her before, telling her not wait, as he may never return. With a sigh, he picked it up, his eyes scanning her neat and unique handwriting once again before folding it and tucking on top of the rest of belongings. He looked back out at the rain with a softened look of determination in his eyes, almost a yearning not to. "It is time," he whispered again, hoisting his pack on one shoulder, his fingers grazing the remants of his mark. His dark eyes narrowed and he leapt into a run out into the pouring rain, heading deep into the rising sun.