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"Principal Uzumaki? You wanted to see me, sir?" I knocked on the door to his office hesitantly. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard his voice boom as though from a loudspeaker.

"TRACE LEGACY! YOU MAY ENTER!"

"OW!" I nearly shouted, rubbing my ears in pain as I clumsily opened the door to find President Uzumaki at his desk, a megaphone within easy hands-reach.

"Now then, Trace Legacy. It has come to my attention that you work as a...night guard for the local museum? How did you manage to get that job?" The principal asked keenly, the bright light reflecting brilliantly off his glasses.

"It was quite simple, actually. I'm the only one that bothered to apply for the job. They really couldn't be picky, since they needed a night guard, so I got the job the same day I applied." I sat down in a stiff wooden chair, tapping one of my feet in irritation. "Sir, did you call me for something important, or just so someone could hear your voice?"

"Curt and rude as ever, I see. Very well then, I did call you in for an important question," He picked up a file, flipping through the papers within without looking at me. "Have you had the oddest sensation like your being followed?"

I almost slipped out of my chair. I could positively feel the hot swelling in my cheeks as I struggled to stammer out a coherent answer. "Sir, if I may ask, what bearing does that honestly have on my school work?"

"I guess it wouldn't have anything to do with that. Listen." I scratched my head sighing before noticing the serious, almost accusing look in the principal's eyes. "I do NOT want your choice of job interfereing with your school, or your fellow classmates. Is that clear, Trace Legacy?"

"Y-Yes sir..." I stammered nervously, looking away. For some reason, I felt like the kid that been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and I did not appreciate the sensation. Not at all.

"Good. Now that you understand that..." He tapped his fingers on the desktop. I could feel his eyes seemingly burning a hole in my very core through his glasses.

"Sir?"

"Are there any girls your particularly interested in, Trace?"

Flinching, I stood and headed for the door. "That's really none of your business, Principal Uzumaki."

"Good luck at work, Trace! You'll need it."

-----

I paused outside the principal's office, listening to the extremely loud laughing coming from within. /The hell? I wonder what it is he finds so funny./

-----

"So, Trace, was it? I heard that you train a lot on a daily basis. Is that true?" John, the new recruit, asked me as he buckled on his belt. I stood in the locker rooms, tossing my pack carelessly into my own locker as I considered his question.

"Well, I don't exactly devote myself to training that often, but I do keep myself in shape, at least. It never hurts to be prepared," I pulled on the dark blue vest of my outfit, heading out to the lobby. At 21:00 hours, the museum was preparing to shut down, the curators eager to finish closing shop.

"Trace, will you be ok with training John tonight?" The manager asked me half an hour later near the front entrance.

"Sir, everything will be fine. Just leave it to me," I nodded reassuringly, fidgeting under the vest. /I never did like the uniform./

"If you say so it must be true. Well, have a good evening gentlemen."

I nodded, turning to start on my rounds when I heard Joe cough behind me.

"Do you always have to be so stiff, Trace? You're not in the army," He voiced as he followed behind me.

"Just do your job. It's none of your business how I act," I passed through a door, casting my gaze to and fro as I searched for intruders. With none in sight, I kept walking. I heard Joe enter the room before me, but I turned around quickly when I heard him gasp.

"What's that item? I didn't notice it a couple of days ago," Joe pointed at an item in a corner, eyeing the symbols etched into its crystalline surface.

"What, that? That's just a mirror. The manager called it the Star of the Twilight. It's supposed to be some kind of enchanted mirror, if you believe in that kind of stuff. They say that it's a portal to another world," I supplied in a monotone, walking up behind Joe as I examined the room in general. By and large, the room had exhibits of 13th century Europe, ranging from suits of armor to weapons and building materials. There was even a catapult, minus the arm, in a corner opposite the mirror.

"It looks cool, but I think that it's kind of in the wrong display, don't you agree Trace?"

I pulled a rag from my pocket, wiping a bit of grime from the edge of one of the symbols as I examined it thoughtfully. /This is weird. For a second there, I thought I understood the phrase 'Thy will be done.' I guess it was just my imagination./

I shook myself out of my reverie as I glanced over my shoulder towards Joe, who seemed to be a little panicked. "Hey Joe, what's wrong. Something on your mind?"

"S-Sir, the door just closed on its own. I tried to open it, but the lock's broken. It's stuck in the lock position!"

"Joe, you worry too much. It's not broken, it's just stuck. Sometimes that happens with that door. Try jiggling the handle a little. It should pop open after a few minutes." I groaned in frustration, shaking my head as Joe's shivers intensified. After a moment, seeing the seige weapon in the corner, he turned and charged at the stuck door, using himself as a battering ram as he threw himself at full speed. Unfortunately, to match the theme of the room it opened into, the door itself was made of heavy steel. While Joe almost shattered his right arm from the ensuing thud, the door itself remained largely undamaged.

"Joe, calm down! You're not going to get anywh-"

I interrupted myself, looking at the shadow growing on the floor before I slowly turned back towards the mirror, a vine almost the thickness of a train car sticking out from it.

"What the?"

The vine didn't seem particularly threatening. It was honestly just hovering over the ground, several inches above my head. Yet, for reasons unknown to me, I found myself edging to the side, carefully reaching for the nearest weapon case. /What is this?/ I hardly registered the sound as Joe kept throwing himself at the steel door, to no avail. Fumbling with the case's lock, I finally managed to open its door, reaching for something when a different kind of bang resounded. The vine reacted violently, the bullets from Joe's gun embedding themselves in it. I pulled out an item from the case, throwing myself to the floor as the vine whipped around. A snap moments later resounded, but I didn't look to see what it was.

/I just had to forget my gun in the locker room didn't I?/ I regarded the weapon I had picked up, hefting the heavy axe as I examined the vine. "This is just not going to end well, is it?" Before I could charge towards the vine though, the mirror's glow brightened considerably, so much so that I had drop the axe, covering my eyes so I wouldn't go blind. Falling to my knees, I felt as though ever fiber of my being was being ripped to shreds by whatever force was hidden in the mirror. /Oh god. Is this how it ends? I'm sorry...Mom.../ Before long, all sensation just...vanished. And with it went my consciousness.

---------------

I awoke some time later. One of the first things I noticed was that I was lying on what felt like a bed, a thin cotton sheet draped over me. /Where am I? Is it morning already? This isn't the museum. Wait, what happened to the Star of the Twilight?/ I tried to sit up, a flash of pain emanating from my sides.

"You shouldn't push your body. You're still pretty beat up," a girl's voice whispered softly, pushing me back down gently but forcefully.

"Where am I? Who're you?" I asked softly. I held back a groan, becoming cognizant of the pain assaulting my body from what seemed to be every sinew. "Man, I'm beat."

"My name's Kara, and this is my house. What were you doing lying out on the ground in the middle of nowhere?"

"I...have no idea."

I couldn't see much of anything, from the aftereffects of that damn flash of light, but Kara sounded like a teenager. She probably wasn't much older then I am.

"What do you mean I was in the middle of nowhere? What happened to Tokyo?" Sitting up yet again, I rubbed my eyes in vain, trying to get the white-out effect to go away. I could barely see a vague outline of my hands.

"Eh? 'Toh-Kee-Oh'? What district is that? I've never heard of it."

"Stop messing with me. Tokyo is the capital of Japan!" Colors were starting to come back now, but my vision was still really fuzzy.

"'Ja-Pan'? What kind of 'pan' is that? Does it taste good?"

"I can't believe this..." Judging from her inquisitive tone, she really was being serious. She had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. "Where are we?"

"What do you mean? Don't you know? We're in the forest called the Graveyard of Sorrow. Not many people come here, because of the rumors that it's swarming with demons."

"I've never heard of a forest called the Graveyard of Sorrow! You have to be kidding me!"

"Um...no, I'm actually serious," the girl called Kara hesitated. For a moment, it sounded a little like she was chewing on something.

With my eyes now back to normal, I turned, regarding Kara in confusion. Sitting on a stool in front of me was a girl, maybe 17 or 18 years old. /A crimson vest and pants of bright red. Not exactly unique./

"All right, you're gonna need to tell me where I am, and where the nearest city is. Do you have a phone I can use?"

"Phone? What's a phone?"

"Nevermind. I don't have the time to explain it right now." I tried to stand up, but my throbbing ribs wouldn't let me do even that much.

"You really shouldn't move. Your too injured. We don't have much, but at least you'll have a roof over your head. I'll go get you something to eat," With those words, she snatched a red baseball-style hat from a nearby table, running towards what smelled like the kitchen.

"What did she mean by 'We'?" I muttered to myself. With little else to do, I took a moment to look through the sparsely decorated room. Beyond a bedside table, and an old fashioned oil lamp, a round woolen rug adorned the wooden floor. "Something feels really wrong here, but I can't decide what."

/She wears a baseball cap, but everything in this room is old fashioned. I'm missing something.../ Just then, a smaller girl came in the room, carrying a bowl of some kind of soup and a glass of water.

"Here you go, sir. My sis made this for you," The girl, ten or eleven, give or take a day, set the tray on the table, staring at me grimly. Before I could do or say anything, she had reached out, grabbed the button up shirt I was wearing, and opened it wide, exposing my stomach and chest, both of which had bandages wrapped securely. /Huh? Why are there bandages on me? Wait, I wasn't wearing a button-up! Don't tell me that girl.../

"Can you at least ask before you start taking off someone's clothes?" I growled, closing my shirt rapidly. "Don't you know how rude it is to take off someone's shirt, little girl?"

"...Your weird, old man. My sis doesn't complain when I do that," the kid complained, patting the large blue bow in her hair.

/T-That bow's a little too big. It seems like it'd be bigger then her head.../ "That's not the point, kid. The point is it's disrespectful!" I felt my face starting to heat up, as a thought of her older sister kept trying to percolate in my mind. /D-Damn hormones!/

"Oi, Kitara! Are you bothering our guest? He needs to rest, so please go away," The sister, Kara, walked in, wearing a large blue bow on her head as well. "I'm really sorry about this sir. We hardly get any visitors around here, so she's really excited to have someone new to talk to."

"N-No, it's ok, I completely understand," I stammered. /Damn! Now I get embarrassed to even look her in the face, thanks to that stupid kid's comment!/ "Um, by the way, that reminds me. What happened to the clothes I was wearing before. I'm pretty sure I wasn't wearing a girl's button-up shirt."

"That's big sis's shirt! I saw her changing you earlier, when she brought you in. Your clothes were completely covered in blood!"

"Oh, that reminds me," Kara reached into one of the pockets of her top, pulling out a familiar looking object.

/Th-That's my.../

"Do you know what this is, and how to use it?" She asked seriously, lifting a revolver. It was a fairly old model, a custom built .38 magnum from the 1930's that had been in my family for generations. The grip and trigger, though worn, were still highly polished and in excellent condition.

"That's something that's been in my family for generations! How did you get ahold of it?" I clapped my hand over my mouth, a foreboding sense of despair overtaking me. /I shouldn't have said that...I'm in deep shit now./

Kara nodded once, grimly, her grip tightening on the weapon. With a slight yelp, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the pain.

"I'll hold onto this then as a precaution. It's not that I don't trust you, but I'm not gonna take any chances." With that, Kara sighed turned around leaving me lying on the bed.

Description
"Principal Uzumaki? You wanted to see me, sir?" I knocked on the door to his office hesitantly. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard his voice boom as though from a loudspeaker.

"TRACE LEGACY! YOU MAY ENTER!"

"OW!" I nearly shouted, rubbing my ears in pain as I clumsily opened the door to find President Uzumaki at his desk, a megaphone within easy hands-reach.

"Now then, Trace Legacy. It has come to my attention that you work as a...night guard for the local museum? How did you manage to get that job?" The principal asked keenly, the bright light reflecting brilliantly off his glasses.

"It was quite simple, actually. I'm the only one that bothered to apply for the job. They really couldn't be picky, since they needed a night guard, so I got the job the same day I applied." I sat down in a stiff wooden chair, tapping one of my feet in irritation. "Sir, did you call me for something important, or just so someone could hear your voice?"

"Curt and rude as ever, I see. Very well then, I did call you in for an important question," He picked up a file, flipping through the papers within without looking at me. "Have you had the oddest sensation like your being followed?"

I almost slipped out of my chair. I could positively feel the hot swelling in my cheeks as I struggled to stammer out a coherent answer. "Sir, if I may ask, what bearing does that honestly have on my school work?"

"I guess it wouldn't have anything to do with that. Listen." I scratched my head sighing before noticing the serious, almost accusing look in the principal's eyes. "I do NOT want your choice of job interfereing with your school, or your fellow classmates. Is that clear, Trace Legacy?"

"Y-Yes sir..." I stammered nervously, looking away. For some reason, I felt like the kid that been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and I did not appreciate the sensation. Not at all.

"Good. Now that you understand that..." He tapped his fingers on the desktop. I could feel his eyes seemingly burning a hole in my very core through his glasses.

"Sir?"

"Are there any girls your particularly interested in, Trace?"

Flinching, I stood and headed for the door. "That's really none of your business, Principal Uzumaki."

"Good luck at work, Trace! You'll need it."

-----

I paused outside the principal's office, listening to the extremely loud laughing coming from within. /The hell? I wonder what it is he finds so funny./

-----

"So, Trace, was it? I heard that you train a lot on a daily basis. Is that true?" John, the new recruit, asked me as he buckled on his belt. I stood in the locker rooms, tossing my pack carelessly into my own locker as I considered his question.

"Well, I don't exactly devote myself to training that often, but I do keep myself in shape, at least. It never hurts to be prepared," I pulled on the dark blue vest of my outfit, heading out to the lobby. At 21:00 hours, the museum was preparing to shut down, the curators eager to finish closing shop.

"Trace, will you be ok with training John tonight?" The manager asked me half an hour later near the front entrance.

"Sir, everything will be fine. Just leave it to me," I nodded reassuringly, fidgeting under the vest. /I never did like the uniform./

"If you say so it must be true. Well, have a good evening gentlemen."

I nodded, turning to start on my rounds when I heard Joe cough behind me.

"Do you always have to be so stiff, Trace? You're not in the army," He voiced as he followed behind me.

"Just do your job. It's none of your business how I act," I passed through a door, casting my gaze to and fro as I searched for intruders. With none in sight, I kept walking. I heard Joe enter the room before me, but I turned around quickly when I heard him gasp.

"What's that item? I didn't notice it a couple of days ago," Joe pointed at an item in a corner, eyeing the symbols etched into its crystalline surface.

"What, that? That's just a mirror. The manager called it the Star of the Twilight. It's supposed to be some kind of enchanted mirror, if you believe in that kind of stuff. They say that it's a portal to another world," I supplied in a monotone, walking up behind Joe as I examined the room in general. By and large, the room had exhibits of 13th century Europe, ranging from suits of armor to weapons and building materials. There was even a catapult, minus the arm, in a corner opposite the mirror.

"It looks cool, but I think that it's kind of in the wrong display, don't you agree Trace?"

I pulled a rag from my pocket, wiping a bit of grime from the edge of one of the symbols as I examined it thoughtfully. /This is weird. For a second there, I thought I understood the phrase 'Thy will be done.' I guess it was just my imagination./

I shook myself out of my reverie as I glanced over my shoulder towards Joe, who seemed to be a little panicked. "Hey Joe, what's wrong. Something on your mind?"

"S-Sir, the door just closed on its own. I tried to open it, but the lock's broken. It's stuck in the lock position!"

"Joe, you worry too much. It's not broken, it's just stuck. Sometimes that happens with that door. Try jiggling the handle a little. It should pop open after a few minutes." I groaned in frustration, shaking my head as Joe's shivers intensified. After a moment, seeing the seige weapon in the corner, he turned and charged at the stuck door, using himself as a battering ram as he threw himself at full speed. Unfortunately, to match the theme of the room it opened into, the door itself was made of heavy steel. While Joe almost shattered his right arm from the ensuing thud, the door itself remained largely undamaged.

"Joe, calm down! You're not going to get anywh-"

I interrupted myself, looking at the shadow growing on the floor before I slowly turned back towards the mirror, a vine almost the thickness of a train car sticking out from it.

"What the?"

The vine didn't seem particularly threatening. It was honestly just hovering over the ground, several inches above my head. Yet, for reasons unknown to me, I found myself edging to the side, carefully reaching for the nearest weapon case. /What is this?/ I hardly registered the sound as Joe kept throwing himself at the steel door, to no avail. Fumbling with the case's lock, I finally managed to open its door, reaching for something when a different kind of bang resounded. The vine reacted violently, the bullets from Joe's gun embedding themselves in it. I pulled out an item from the case, throwing myself to the floor as the vine whipped around. A snap moments later resounded, but I didn't look to see what it was.

/I just had to forget my gun in the locker room didn't I?/ I regarded the weapon I had picked up, hefting the heavy axe as I examined the vine. "This is just not going to end well, is it?" Before I could charge towards the vine though, the mirror's glow brightened considerably, so much so that I had drop the axe, covering my eyes so I wouldn't go blind. Falling to my knees, I felt as though ever fiber of my being was being ripped to shreds by whatever force was hidden in the mirror. /Oh god. Is this how it ends? I'm sorry...Mom.../ Before long, all sensation just...vanished. And with it went my consciousness.

---------------

I awoke some time later. One of the first things I noticed was that I was lying on what felt like a bed, a thin cotton sheet draped over me. /Where am I? Is it morning already? This isn't the museum. Wait, what happened to the Star of the Twilight?/ I tried to sit up, a flash of pain emanating from my sides.

"You shouldn't push your body. You're still pretty beat up," a girl's voice whispered softly, pushing me back down gently but forcefully.

"Where am I? Who're you?" I asked softly. I held back a groan, becoming cognizant of the pain assaulting my body from what seemed to be every sinew. "Man, I'm beat."

"My name's Kara, and this is my house. What were you doing lying out on the ground in the middle of nowhere?"

"I...have no idea."

I couldn't see much of anything, from the aftereffects of that damn flash of light, but Kara sounded like a teenager. She probably wasn't much older then I am.

"What do you mean I was in the middle of nowhere? What happened to Tokyo?" Sitting up yet again, I rubbed my eyes in vain, trying to get the white-out effect to go away. I could barely see a vague outline of my hands.

"Eh? 'Toh-Kee-Oh'? What district is that? I've never heard of it."

"Stop messing with me. Tokyo is the capital of Japan!" Colors were starting to come back now, but my vision was still really fuzzy.

"'Ja-Pan'? What kind of 'pan' is that? Does it taste good?"

"I can't believe this..." Judging from her inquisitive tone, she really was being serious. She had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. "Where are we?"

"What do you mean? Don't you know? We're in the forest called the Graveyard of Sorrow. Not many people come here, because of the rumors that it's swarming with demons."

"I've never heard of a forest called the Graveyard of Sorrow! You have to be kidding me!"

"Um...no, I'm actually serious," the girl called Kara hesitated. For a moment, it sounded a little like she was chewing on something.

With my eyes now back to normal, I turned, regarding Kara in confusion. Sitting on a stool in front of me was a girl, maybe 17 or 18 years old. /A crimson vest and pants of bright red. Not exactly unique./

"All right, you're gonna need to tell me where I am, and where the nearest city is. Do you have a phone I can use?"

"Phone? What's a phone?"

"Nevermind. I don't have the time to explain it right now." I tried to stand up, but my throbbing ribs wouldn't let me do even that much.

"You really shouldn't move. Your too injured. We don't have much, but at least you'll have a roof over your head. I'll go get you something to eat," With those words, she snatched a red baseball-style hat from a nearby table, running towards what smelled like the kitchen.

"What did she mean by 'We'?" I muttered to myself. With little else to do, I took a moment to look through the sparsely decorated room. Beyond a bedside table, and an old fashioned oil lamp, a round woolen rug adorned the wooden floor. "Something feels really wrong here, but I can't decide what."

/She wears a baseball cap, but everything in this room is old fashioned. I'm missing something.../ Just then, a smaller girl came in the room, carrying a bowl of some kind of soup and a glass of water.

"Here you go, sir. My sis made this for you," The girl, ten or eleven, give or take a day, set the tray on the table, staring at me grimly. Before I could do or say anything, she had reached out, grabbed the button up shirt I was wearing, and opened it wide, exposing my stomach and chest, both of which had bandages wrapped securely. /Huh? Why are there bandages on me? Wait, I wasn't wearing a button-up! Don't tell me that girl.../

"Can you at least ask before you start taking off someone's clothes?" I growled, closing my shirt rapidly. "Don't you know how rude it is to take off someone's shirt, little girl?"

"...Your weird, old man. My sis doesn't complain when I do that," the kid complained, patting the large blue bow in her hair.

/T-That bow's a little too big. It seems like it'd be bigger then her head.../ "That's not the point, kid. The point is it's disrespectful!" I felt my face starting to heat up, as a thought of her older sister kept trying to percolate in my mind. /D-Damn hormones!/

"Oi, Kitara! Are you bothering our guest? He needs to rest, so please go away," The sister, Kara, walked in, wearing a large blue bow on her head as well. "I'm really sorry about this sir. We hardly get any visitors around here, so she's really excited to have someone new to talk to."

"N-No, it's ok, I completely understand," I stammered. /Damn! Now I get embarrassed to even look her in the face, thanks to that stupid kid's comment!/ "Um, by the way, that reminds me. What happened to the clothes I was wearing before. I'm pretty sure I wasn't wearing a girl's button-up shirt."

"That's big sis's shirt! I saw her changing you earlier, when she brought you in. Your clothes were completely covered in blood!"

"Oh, that reminds me," Kara reached into one of the pockets of her top, pulling out a familiar looking object.

/Th-That's my.../

"Do you know what this is, and how to use it?" She asked seriously, lifting a revolver. It was a fairly old model, a custom built .38 magnum from the 1930's that had been in my family for generations. The grip and trigger, though worn, were still highly polished and in excellent condition.

"That's something that's been in my family for generations! How did you get ahold of it?" I clapped my hand over my mouth, a foreboding sense of despair overtaking me. /I shouldn't have said that...I'm in deep shit now./

Kara nodded once, grimly, her grip tightening on the weapon. With a slight yelp, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the pain.

"I'll hold onto this then as a precaution. It's not that I don't trust you, but I'm not gonna take any chances." With that, Kara sighed turned around leaving me lying on the bed.