Kyotoshi lay on his back, spine nestled in its indentation in his bed, watching the wall clock’s hands creep slowly around. The hands made a tiny tick with each individual movement…he had been staring so long he could have sworn the hour hand itself moved. Eyes moved lazily from the clock back to the ceiling, tracing cracks and imperfections in the crumbling ceiling for another few moments. How much longer did he have to wait…Only a few more moments, a few more hours. Early morning, late night. He had to wait and be sure it was safe. The Hekshanian’s breath ruffled the night air, dust dancing on the wind. Only the light from the hallway spilled around the edges of his door to light his room.

Slowly, silently, Kyotoshi moved a hand over his mouth, blinking upwards. Ancient fragmented lyrics ran through his head…Suffocation…no breathing…What they were doing to him here was crushing him inside. Sometimes it hurt just to eat, like his stomach was filled with blood and anything he’d eaten was made of pure razor blades. The constraining way of life, the constaint disdain from the social worker…He just felt like he couldn’t take it anymore at times. Like now…The clock clicked again and he glanced at it, eyes long adjusted to the dark. Three in the morning. Was the social worker asleep yet maybe? If he was caught, the worst that could happen was a few harsh words. He’d already been grounded, all privileges revoked for staying out late. The social worker didn’t like his friends. But then again…She didn’t like any aliens. She thought they were demons and monsters, inhuman and not worthy of being treated equally.

He sat up in bed, his battered army jacket rustling on the unmade sheets. Flicking his ears forward, he listened. The bedsprings creaked as he moved, and he locked his limbs, holding deathly still. Maybe it wouldn’t wake anyone…maybe they would think he was rolling over in his sleep. Holding his breath a moment, he was sure he could hear a snore…Or was that the television? Another glance at the clock told him if he was leaving…Now was the time. Springing lightly to his feet, Kyotoshi’s claws touched down without a sound on the wooden floorboards. He crouched to silence his decent, two fingers against the cold floor. Tiptoeing towards the door, he used one claw to minimize the creaking the hinges made. Dodging the boards that squeaked in the hallway, he dodged quickly past the social worker’s bedroom…A glance told him he had been right about the snores. She was fast asleep. The young Hekshanian exhaled in relief, his blonde hair falling in his eyes. Sweeping it back with a free hand, he crept onwards until-

“Kyo?”

…Craika. He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping, and turned to face his younger sister. Jeez, she was fourteen now and still looked like she was ten. Sometimes Kyotoshi doubted if Soshika would ever grow. She stood in the hallway behind him in her pajamas, wide blue eyes checking over his cloths while her ears backed slowly. “Where are you going? It’s late.”

“What are you doin’ up? It’s late.” He retorted with a grin. It was sometimes hard to keep serious with her. His Lyika. Kneeling in the hallway, he kept his voice to a whisper, holding a finger to his lips to indicate for quiet. She padded over quietly, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“I had a nightmare. Had to get up and walk around to get it out,” She lowered her voice as well and knelt in front of him. Kyotoshi placed his hand on her head and ruffled the spikey brown hair between her ears. His grin fell as he heard her whisper… She’d been having nightmares steadily for every night now, since their parents had been shot. It wasn’t surprising. But he didn’t like to hear about it, knowing he couldn’t help. Her eyes reflected blue even in the dark. “Where were you going? You’re dressed for outside.”

“Right, Lyika, I’m goin’ out,” He smiled at her faintly, teeth flashing white in the dim hallway light. A sidelong flick of his right ear told him the social worker still snored onward. “Gonna meet up with Kammi and the guys, head to a party.”

She looked towards the wall a moment, silent, as if regarding the weather through the wall. “This late?”

He shrugged. “It’s prolly just started, really. Hey, don’t worry bout it. I gotta keep calm to take care of ya. Ya know? It’s how I do things.” He ruffled her hair again and stood, but she didn’t follow. Looking up at him, she shook her head. Kyotoshi tried to affect a confidant stance, look as if he knew what he was doing, but failed. Another snore caused him to duck down slightly, ruining the visual point he was attempting to make.

Her eyes were sleepy, but serious. That was Lyika…she was always serious, always worrying…through reading, through katana practice, through anything done in secret. “You made a promise,” She spoke as if he might have forgotten.

Kyotoshi started as the social worker’s snores came to an abrupt climactic snort, then resumed. He needed to get out now or never. But how to convince her he wouldn’t forget..? Sweeping the old army jacket off his shoulders, he draped it around her like a cloak. She looked at him strangely, confused. He grinned lopsidedly and flashed a human peace-sign. “Promise I won’t forget. Nothin’s gonna change the way I am. Nothin’s getting into me gonna do that. I promise I’m comin back, like always. So hang onto that.”

Smiling, he began to sneak down the hallway and towards the front door. Her whispered last words were almost missed…but not completely.

“Be careful, Kyo!”

The streetlamps seemed to have a life of their own, seemed to be nearly alive. Their spotlights flickered on the cracked pavement of the street, looking like some sort of distorted communication system. Kyotoshi moved along at a slow pace, his hands in his pockets, eyes cast up at the lamps as he passed under them. What would it be like, he wondered, if they were really alive, and controlling us? What we did? Streetlamp conspiricy. A smile spread on Kyotoshi's face...He was always smiling. Things were bad, they were always bad, but he would always be smiling. There were better things to do than be upset over every little detail.

"Hey, space-boy!" Voices ahead made Kyo snap his head down, the whipping motion making him dizzy. He tripped on his own footclaws as equilibrium worked itself out in his body. Leaning against a car not far away were two Hekshanians about his age...One he knew, Kammi, simply by her constant twitching and tapping. The other...well...He didn't know the other at all yet. Kammi was an addict to Stims, or stimulant drugs that were produced usually in somebody's basement and sold on the street fairly cheap. Stim addicts always had an excess of energy, and usually boardered on anorexicly thin. Not that they would notice or care. Kammi took them, Kyotoshi knew, because she was a pilot. What remained of planes nearby where they lived were rusted scrap heaps which required about eight hands to work. Stimulants could at least keep the operator alive long enough to land the damned things. It was one of the few remaining native Hekshanian professions.

"Ready to go break some rules?" The Hekshanian Kyotoshi didn't know grinned at him in a way that reminded him of a con artist with a new target. It didn't make him nervous, though, he was used to it. Smirking, he kept his stride to a cool and even pace and came up beside them, turning and reclining against the parked car without saying a word. A creaking sound and the bouncing of the car on its tires made him lean his head back slightly to look at Kammi, who was standing on the hood now and bouncing up and down on her heels swinging her arms. He raised both eyebrows questioningly and recieved a high-velocity slap from her in reply. He dodged away and yelped, reminding himself that Kammi was always ill-tempered.

She bounced once more on the hood, which buckled slightly under her weight, and leapt off, landing on the pavement next to him and elbowing him roughly in the side. Kyotoshi grabbed at the spot where she'd hit him and took a few quick steps away to avoid anymore unwarrented blows, but Kammi appeared to have finished her attack for the time being. Pulling a ciggerette from the pocket on her mechanic's vest and patting across her body in search of a lighter, she placed the unlit cigerette in her mouth and glared sidelong at the yellow-furred male. "Look at me like that and I'll break your fuckin kneecaps."

"Like what?" Kyotoshi protested, ducking instinctively as the lighter flew at his head only to shatter on the pavement behind him. Kammi screamed an obcenity, throwing back her head in a bizzarre parody of laughter. The third Hekshanian folded his arms and smirked at Kyotoshi, watching the obviously experienced other pick himself up and dust off the grime from his knees the sidewalks had so graciously deposited. With a sigh of disgust, Kyotoshi brushed some hair out of his eyes and glared at the laughing Kammi. The yellow of the streetlights reflected on her orange fur, turning it a pale shade of red. For a moment, Kyotoshi felt an odd sensation, a preminition of something to come, but shook it off and looked away.

The other Hekshanian, cream white furred and dressed in shimmering black cloths grinned toothily and opened the passenger side of the door, climbing in. "Shall we go, then?"

Kammi abruptly ceased laughing and whooped, shoving Kyotoshi roughly out of the way and ducking into the back seat. The yellow furred Hekshanian looked around confused, about to ask what was going on when the cream male's hand dangled out of the open window, the car keys clinking lazily from his grip. "You're driving, buddy boy." With a demonic grin, he dropped the keys into the street. Kyotoshi sighed, frustrated, and retrieved them, walking around to the drivers side and climbing in.

"Bloody hell am I always the driver for anyway?" He muttered under his breath, knowing full well the answer. Promises he'd made ensured he'd always be in the condition to drive. Kammi began to kick the back of his seat violently, slamming his ribs against the stearing wheel as she screamed.

"GUN IT! GUN IT! GO DAMNIT GO! FASTER, BITCH!"

Sighing, Kyotoshi put the car in gear, rolling out of it's parking space as the lights flashed in a rythmic pattern against its paint job. Wheels crunched lightly on pavement as the road stretched onward, and in the back of his mind, Kyotoshi could already hear the sounds of the approuching party.