Prologue

Thin lines offset by thick, intertwining and parting in the barest map of a profile. The figure emerged, strong but temperate and undeniably feminine despite masculine bone structure and physique. Thinly framed six-pointed stars formed deliberately in the background, placed with attention to spacial relationships and the composition of the image. A light forest green swept across the eyes, darker here and lighter there with black pits ringed by a darkening of the bright shade. Peach tones softened the beige which stained relaxed lips, parted with breath blowing faintly and invisibly into the starry background.

In an outstretched hand pooled water from which droplets rose in defiance of gravity, frosting as they progressed along their paths to ring the stars in coronas of ice. The opposing hand emerged from voluminous sleeves, flexed upright with long, pointed nails protruding beyond the tips of splayed fingers, a gesture either of warning or greeting and open to interpretation even to the mind behind the pen.

Kindness warred with cruelty in every line and curve; each expanse, scratch, and shadow. The personality behind this image was an enigma. Robes took shape with a kimono influence, sleeves slimming toward the body; seams lined with large, showy stitching. They were left primarily undecorated aside from green trims and inner folds, also of green. The simplistic design contrasted with the complicated character; the life of the evolving being centered in his piercing eyes and tender mouth.

After a final brush to add volume to the sweep of the robe near the bottom of the card, the pen rose, paused, then lowered slowly, making almost no sound as it came to rest on the polished wood alongside the image. Reiji stared at his creation, hungrily devouring every detail and implication, searching for flaws and imperfections, for hints and predictions.

He scrutinized the image for minutes which ticked into larger denominates of time before the scrutiny shifted to observation and then admiration. Even so, he came to the conclusion that something was missing; some defining characteristic vital to completion. Eventually, he lifted the black pen he used for outlines, directing it over the card and letting it hover there in indecision. It wavered even as it lowered, diverting a fraction at the last second to dot beneath the left eye which, through a trick of the angle, dominated one's awareness of the face.

Panic flared in him until he frantically discarded the pen as if to undo his impulsive addition. He gingerly lifted the card between the pads of six fingers and extended it the length of his arms. He balanced it there on one hand, carefully retracting the other to raise the frames of his glasses and take in the image with flawed, raw eyesight before lowering the frames once more and releasing a sigh of relief as it became clear that his instincts were impeccable.

It was perfect.