The sound of wind perks my sensitive ears as a light, cloth-like material tickles my nose. I twitch as the feeling goes away, only to come back again with each sound of rustling breeze.

I must be in a room with-

Snapping my eyes open, I distinctly recollect never making it to one.

I quickly discover the room is a nice one as well, with furnishings gilded silver all around me, and various potted plants lined up against the wall to my left. I flinch as a white cloth flicks my nose again, flashing across my vision; I perch my neck up, realizing it's just drapes hitting me from the open windows.

I try sitting up, wincing as my body aches to do so. After managing that, I carefully lean over one side of the bed, pale sheets fanning around my waist as I push it to the side. Shivering, my bare feet hit the wooden floors below, and a thought comes to mind that I'm not wearing the clothes I last remember putting on. Instead, white pajama pants cover me, and I reflect upon my shirtless chest, unnerved.

Carefully, I arch my back, stretching every limb before exercising something else entirely: my hearing. At first, it makes my ears ring, and I let out a pained breath before continuing to catch more noises outside the room, taking me throughout the house without moving my feet.

Clank.

My hands clench at the bedsheets as I search for more, for more noise to let me in, more senses to figure out where I've been taken.

Clank.

Shhhh, clank, hiss.

I squeeze my eyes shut; these noises are practically useless, I need more again.

Shhh, whirrr, pop.

Clank!

My eyes snap open from the throng of a pan, it's sound reverberating in my head and shocking my body painfully.

Then I grin; pans, it's pans being used downstairs, a ton of them, with pots and skewers and friers. It's an establishment below me, I'm resting above a busied kitchen of cooks and heavy apparatuses. In fact, the appliances, despite their hard poundings barely heard from where I am, must be heavy, their wielders of backbone.

Satisfied with this, I look around, noting a hot cup of tea sitting lonesome on a small wooden table in the corner. Walking up to it, I watch as steam emits from the pretty, porcelain glass, perched seemingly for me atop a folded, prim napkin.

Taking the cup, I smell it, drowning my senses again, taking me through what someone put in the drink without so much as a second thought.

A soothing chamomile, sweetish honey, touches of lime-and something else, a sharper scent that makes my mouth water till the point where I can't deny it. So I down it in one go, it's sweet and savory flavor bringing back energy to my recovering body. I put it down to wipe my mouth with the offerings of the napkin, afterwards crossing swiftly to the window.

I peek out of it, a weak beam of sunlight hitting me as I poke my head further out dauntingly. I immediately note a multitude of people filing into the downstairs of the building, through an open and welcomed double door. I flicker to the sign below me, incorporated in the wall reading, "Chinese Restaurant."

Leaning my hands on the window sill, I let the sun warm me up a bit more before reaching out and running a fingertip to a plugged in letter. My finger comes away with dirt, and I decide the letters are old, which doesn't fit the lavish interior of the upstairs.

I turn back inside hurriedly, done thinking as I scan the room for my old clothes. My eyes instead catch a medium sized, wooden closet in front of the bed. Approaching it, I yank it's melded double doors open impatiently.

I'm disappointed with what I find at first, realizing my clothes aren't in here, but then my interest piques again as other clothes flutter around, belonging to the man who took me in.

My eyes shift to all the expensive looking clothes, deciding to take a cloak for it's pretty, dark sheen. I string it around my shoulders quickly, walking back over to the window: an opening, an exit that doesn't require contact or complications save the hard drop below, which I'll take over verbal confrontation.

As if on cue, I catch footfalls making their way up the steps, at first soft in the distance, but then louder: approaching. I thrust my senses further to double check, realizing without a doubt someone is coming in this direction.

With time breathing down my neck, I cautiously reach one leg out of the building, feeling around for the sign that will hopefully support my weight. I growl in frustration as I shuffle my bare toes against the rough surface of brick, finally managing to find the smooth lettering of the 'u' in 'restaurant'.

The footsteps get louder as I swing the other leg over, my hands still clutching at the windowsill as I test the sign's strength. Balancing on it, I wince as I hear it creek underneath me, my weight testing it's age.

The door crashes open above me, it's bang like a warning: freeze-or jump; I choose the former.

I even hold my breath, waiting, waiting an awful long time-too long, and my hand starts to slip a little. Daringly, I release the sweaty palm from the sill, glancing down as footsteps throb in my ear like a heartbeat.

"Hello?" A man's voice calls, making me flinch as my ears ring a little again.

From the ringing, I have a hard time making things out like before, so I hang there in slight discomfort, cursing inwardly.

Long moments pass again, and I emit a soft sigh as I catch the footsteps receding above me, finally.

Internally, I argue whether I'd make the jump down, calculating the distance from my feet to the ground, a good drop below, maybe even-

I catch the gaze of a kid on the streets, alarm rushing to my nerves. A little kid, with spiky blond hair and a melting ice cream cone in his hand. His mother tugs him onwards through the streets as he tries to stop and stare.

"Come on, move your feet, you ice cream's melting!" The mother complains, dark hair swirling around her face as a gust of wind passes by.

My ears tinge as the cloak lifts up, revealing my bare back; the kid points up at me, "M-mommy, look, there's a boy hanging on the wall! Look mommy look!"

I freeze as the mother silences him, tugging him away and into the crowd as my blood runs cold.

Maybe the person looking for me didn't hear-maybe I can just jump; I look down again, grimacing at the height I'm at.

The footsteps above me stop for a second, before all of a sudden they run over to the window again, the person looking for me peeking their head out.

I suck in a startled breath as hazel whirlpools peek a few inches from my face, holding onto me as the both of us simultaneously freeze.

My hand slips, the one hand left that anchors my to the window sill. I don't even mean to let go-I just do-but it's no use even if the slip had been intentional, because almost immediately the man with the hazel eyes reaches out and catches me.

Breath caught in my throat, I muster a voice above the wind gusting past, "W-wait, I wasn't-don't pull me back in-

He growls as I try dangerously twisting out of his grasp, and again, my efforts are futile as I'm heaved back into the room with one swift, effortless tug.

I bite my lip as I land hard on my side, griping in pain as the wooden floors offer no cushion for the fall.

"Hell," I mutter, rubbing my hip as the place where the man's hand had been throbs.

I look up at the furious figure of the guy I met last night on the streets, his attire similar to when I met him: crisp white shirt and black pants. He offers me no sympathy now as he turns around to slam the window shut, the drapes fluttering about as he does this.

I wince, tensing as he turns and tromps toward me; reaching out a hand, he clutches the cloak pulled around me in annoyance.

His eyes are an electric color now, and his jaw clenches tight, as if he's holding back something, a bad thing.

Finally he manages, "You were going to steal my jacket?"

Hesitating, I manage a wry grin, "And jump out your window."

The man's strawberry blonde hair curls a bit at the ends, his face so threateningly close to mine that I can feel their wispy strands across my forehead. I then silently recall his hair being the color of straw last night, rather now, it's almost a off-as if his appearances have shifted slightly.

He lets go of me, exasperated as I remain stiff, watching him pace around the room like a perturbed father of a troubled son.

He finally turns back, slowly walking over to crouch in front of my smaller frame.

"I go by Kaito," He says, anger successfully concealed, but a flicker of it sprouts again in his eyes as I don't respond, "How about you?"

Kaito offers me a hand as I blink a few times, surprised at such passive salutations as I accept the gesture, "Eden."

We let go before Kaito stands up again, tacitly beckoning me to do the same, "Eden...come with me to the second floor."

I spring up, wincing as my side throbs; I glance down at it and remember all of a sudden that it's supposed to hurt much more than it is now. In fact, there should be a long, gaping laceration, but in its stead is a scar.

Reluctantly running a hand along it, I frown at it's paleness, a consequence of being healed at an unusual rate, that and a bit of a longer-lasting scar.

Kaito scans the mark I observe, lips tilted downward with disdain, "I hadn't meant to leave anything behind, my revenant was unaccounted for at the time."

I snap my gaze to his, and against my will, alarm breaks the cool facade I have up at the hear of revenants.

Uncoiling my fists, I collect myself again, but I have an inkling that Kaito has already caught on to my panic.

"I should leave," I begin hesitantly, "there's something I need to tend to, but..thank you for taking me in."

I decide pushing a little more as Kaito stands in my way, unimpressed, "Please, I'll come back to repay you the favor of healing me."

Kaito crosses his arms, leaning against the wooden door frame in contemplation. It oddly reminds me of last night, when he did relatively the same while I bled out.

"I wouldn't advise you to leave so soon, my healing has after effects you may be unprepared for."

I bite my lip, subconsciously feeling for the scar again, "I don't care, I just need to get back."

Kaito glances at my unsteady legs, emitting a snort so faint I have to wonder if I heard it at all, "I wish you luck then that you don't meet the man who attacked you. As you are now, I don't think you'd stand much of a chance."

Releasing my lip, I give him a dry look, "The confidence boost is well appreciated."

Walking toward the door, I pause a bit, waiting for Kaito to move out of the way, to let me go.

He moves, waving a hand onwards in nonchalance, "Be my guest, but if you leave now, don't come back unless it's to repay what you owe."

My jaw clenches a little, "I'll come back."

Kaito absentmindedly slips his gloves on tighter around his wrists, "I'm sure you will."

I decide to ignore the cryptic reply from him and go to leave, when his hand suddenly shoots out to grip my shoulder.

I wince, looking up to find colorful eyes transfixed on the jacket I've solen, I shiver a little as the man bends slightly so that his mouth is closer to my ear.

"Dirty this, and I'll kill you."

I resist a flinch, my back going painfully rigid as my body wounds tighter; I shrug him off and quickly retreat from his towering frame.

Scrambling down wooden steps, I heave in a breath of unease, forcing my stature to loosen in an attempt to shake off the trepidation following.

Coming down to a dimmed room with a black swaying curtain for an exit, I slacken my pace to wipe my forehead, my nervousness from before finally fading altogether. I can't remember the last person-besides the one from last night-who has made me so skittish.

Actually, it's quite usual for me to feel on edge around people I don't have a feel on, but to have someone make me visibly so is something of a feat.

There's something about that man that doesn't sit right, despite the fact that he saved me.

A/N: what the flying fûck, this app glitched and it deleted this entire chpt. and forced me to redo it.