The Generation Series: REBIRTH

A faint, bright yellow aura pierced the veil in the darkness, catching Sakura's attention. The glow cast an eerie shadow in the dense forest. She squinted her eyes and asked, "What is that?"

The mystifying creature approached the clearing, and Sakura saw its physical features. It had the twisted body of a snake colored with soft orange fur on top and pristine white fur on its belly. Its long tail swayed gently. However, the creature's head and front legs resembled a fox's, making it an enchanting blend of different animal traits. Though a sense of unease crept over Sakura, she couldn't help but be fascinated.

She couldn't contain her surprise as she whispered, "Who are you, little fella?"

The Yokai continued its slow approach, its movements resembling a gentle slithering as it maneuvered through the grass. When it finally reached her, it collapsed at her feet, its fur muddied and stained with blood. The creature's large, expressive eyes pleaded for help.

Sakura's heart raced, and panic threatened her as she yelled, "No, you're injured. What can I do? I don't know any Yokai healing magic!"

Fighting back the fear, Sakura made a swift decision. She could not stand by idly while the creature suffered. She whispered, "I have ta' bring ya to the mansion. They will know what to do."

Sakura cradled the injured beast, a frown etched across her face as she pushed northward through the dense forest. The Yokai's shallow breaths and limp body told her the little one's time might be running out. But she refused to let it die in her arms without a fight.

The mansion's silhouette emerged through the trees. Sakura smirked and said, "We're almost there, little one. Just hang on a bit longer."

The entrance gate loomed closer, and the world around her melted into a blur as her legs carried her faster than ever. The Beta werewolves at the gate turned their heads sharply at the commotion, folding their ears back as they saw Sakura barreling toward them with the wounded creature.

Wide-eyed, they hesitated, but Sakura's voice cut through the breeze. "Outta my way, ya ballocks!" she barked, her tone leaving no room for argument as she charged towards them.

The Beta werewolves heeded Sakura's urgent command, swinging open the massive wooden gate without hesitation. Her voice had carried authority across the property, leaving no doubt about her urgency. She bolted toward the mansion, her steps purposeful as she headed straight for the infirmary.

Room after room, she flung open doors to find only empty clinical spaces and quiet recovery areas. Her frustration mounted until a slight movement caught her eye—a brown Delta wolf in its lupine form glided past, its claws clicking softly against the sterile hospital flooring.

Sakura burst into Michelle's office, her teeth clenched. The space was spotless, with white walls and an enormous mahogany desk, but she didn't care about the decor. "Where is everyone?" she demanded.

The Delta wolf shifted slightly, its tone calm as it answered, "Michelle is in the middle of a procedure on Sam. What do you need?"

Sakura's voice rose. "I need Michelle, Taylor, Lina—anyone in that family with medical knowledge. And Jack! Where's Jack?"

The Delta responded, "Taylor's in Michael's room, performing a spinal tap."

That was all Sakura needed to hear. Without waiting for further explanation, she dashed down the corridor.

She spotted Michael's room, his full name printed neatly on the door. Without hesitation, she pushed her way inside.

Taylor stood by Michael's bed, collecting fluid with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Michael lay unconscious, his back arched slightly as a needle protruded from his spine.

Sakura's voice broke through the quiet. "T-Taylor, please! I need your help!"

Taylor glanced up briefly, her brow furrowed in concern, but her hands remained steady, her focus split between the task at hand and Sakura's plea.

Taylor's eyes widened as she swiftly placed the vial containing the fluid on the table and removed the needle from Michael's back. She removed her surgical gloves and asked, "What happened to it?"

"I don't know. I found it in the forest like this," Sakura replied.

"Bring the Yokai to me," Taylor said decisively, motioning for Sakura to bring the injured Yokai closer.

Taylor gently took the fragile creature from Sakura's arms. "I'll do what I can, but no promises," she said firmly. Without wasting a moment, Taylor darted out of the room, shouting orders for a procedure room to be prepped. Her voice echoed down the hallway, growing fainter as she disappeared.

Sakura stood there, her gaze falling on Michael. He lay on his left side, completely still, lost to the world under the weight of heavy sedation. She exhaled softly, her mind racing to find the words.

Nearby, the Delta tidied up, disposing of the tools used during Michael's procedure. One of them paused mid-task, glancing at her hesitantly before speaking. "Could you wait outside, please?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, lass," Sakura murmured. She stepped out of the room and sank onto a bench in the hallway.

Sakura leaned forward, bouncing her foot as her hands fidgeted in her lap. The weight of everything—her worry, the chaos, and the unknown—pressed down on her. She tried to calm her mind, but the tension made it impossible to rest. She realized sleep was a luxury she could not afford right now. All she could do was sit there.

After what felt like an eternity, Taylor finally returned to Sakura. She wiped the sweat from her brow and spoke softly, "You brought it in just in time. I've stabilized it for now."

The Delta wore full surgical gowns in human form as they brought the tiny creature from a child-sized gurney.

Sakura stood to see the results, her gaze shifting to the small creature under the examination lights, wrapped in sutures and bandages that now covered its body. It seemed to be in less pain than before. Sakura asked, "What is it?"

"It's a pipe fox Yokai, a Kudagitsune," Taylor explained. "These ones are pretty fascinating."

Sakura nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude and hope. "Can you save it?"

Taylor offered a faint but reassuring smile. "I'll do my best. Now that we've stablized it we can begin working on the Yokai to find the cause of these wounds in order to properly heal it. Michelle holds the most knowledge of Yokai healing, so she will assist."

"Okay, thank you," Sakura replied.

Sakura's stomach growled loudly, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She realized she hadn't eaten in hours. "I should probably head to the tavern," she said.

Taylor chuckled softly. "Go ahead. We'll update you if there are any significant changes."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Sakura turned and left the infirmary. Walking through the mansion's grand entrance, she glanced around, hoping to spot a familiar face. Instead, her eyes met only the guards stationed at every doorway. Her shoulders slumped as she sighed, muttering, "How much longer do I have to be alone? I don't think I can take much more of this."

The thought of waiting in her room crossed her mind—it might be better than sitting alone in the tavern. Or perhaps she could return to the cherry blossoms or revisit the tombs. Her thoughts swirled, uncertain and restless.

Another loud growl from her stomach snapped her out of her trance. "Aye, Looks like I don't have much of a choice," she whispered.

Sakura stepped into the old-fashioned tavern, her tired eyes scanning the cozy wooden interior. Warm lantern light flickered against the walls, and the faint smell of sizzling food filled the air. Behind the bar, Jim, the cook, was wiping down the counter. When he noticed her, his face lit up with a welcoming grin.

"Well, if it isn't Sakura! Been a while since you've graced this place. What can I get you?" Jim asked, his warm tone cutting through the quiet murmur of the room.

Sakura shuffled to the counter and sat on one of the high stools. "Anythin's fine, ya," she murmured.

Jim paused, studying her with a knowing glance. "Rough day, huh?" he asked gently.

She nodded but didn't elaborate. Jim refused to press her for details. Instead, he gave her a reassuring pat on the counter. "Alright, don't you worry. I'll whip up something special. Be back in a few."

True to his word, Jim returned moments later carrying a tray laden with a Japanese meal: a bowl of steaming white rice, miso soup, golden fried chicken neatly arranged on a square plate, fresh tomato slices on another, and a mountain of finely shredded cabbage perched on a separate dish. He set it before her.

"There we go. Something hearty to lift your spirits," Jim said, stepping back to admire his work.

Sakura looked at the meal, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. "Thanks," she said softly. She picked up her chopsticks and began to eat.

Jim leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "You know, this reminds me of Sam when she was little," he began.

"Back then, she'd always come in here with her mom," Jim continued. "She'd always sit in that very chair, swinging her legs and demanding the biggest bowl of rice you'd ever seen. And let me tell you, for such a tiny thing, she could eat like a wolf!"

Sakura chuckled softly, her chopsticks pausing mid-air.

Jim grinned, encouraged by her reaction. "One time, she decided to help me cook—well, help is a strong word. She dumped half a jar of pepper into the miso soup because she thought it'd 'make it stronger.'"

Sakura couldn't help but laugh, imagining the scene.

Jim chuckled along with her. "Her mom and I had to down that disaster just to keep her happy. Didn't have the heart to tell her it was more spice than soup!"

For the first time that day, Sakura felt a little lighter. As she finished her meal, Jim kept the stories coming, weaving together moments of laughter and warmth. Though the weight of her worries hadn't disappeared, she was grateful for the company and the kindness for now.

Putting her chopsticks on the counter, Sakura asked, "How do you know Sam so well?"

Jim chuckled warmly. "Believe it or not, I'm her uncle," he replied.

Sakura hesitated momentarily, asking, "How does that work? She's as white as a lamb." She tried her best to sound polite, hoping not to offend.

Jim laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Sam's got a sister, and that sister just so happens to be my wife. She's got a bit of melanin in her skin, like me. Genetics are a funny thing, aren't they? Oh, and by the way, your English accent's improving quite a bit."

Sakura smiled, propping her elbow on the counter and resting her chin in her hand. "I've been doin' me best to keep up. Livin' in America helped a lot with how I talk."

"Well, don't push yourself too hard, Sakura," Jim said. "We need you here, and you need to take care of yourself."

"I'll be careful," she promised.

With that, she stood from her seat, nodding to Jim in gratitude. "Thanks for the meal, Jim."

"Anytime," he said with a wave.

Sakura began her slow walk back to her room upstairs. The comforting warmth of the meal settled in her stomach, and with each step, she felt sleep tugging at her. A good dinner and a kind conversation had done wonders, and now, all she wanted was to drift into restful slumber.

As Sakura's thoughts drifted back to how kind Sam had been, a pang of guilt gnawed at her. The memory of Sam nearly losing her leg in the boat accident weighed heavily on her heart. She knew it was not anyone's fault at the time, but a dark thought crept in—what if her father had orchestrated the event to ensure her demise before she could return to the island? The possibility, however remote, sent a shiver down her spine and consumed her with worry.

Sleep was no longer an option. Instead, Sakura wanted to check on everyone last time before Taylor forced her to leave. She knew Taylor might not appreciate her reappearing again so soon, but her concern for the boys outweighed any hesitation. She needed to see for herself that they were all right. The clock on the wall read after midnight, so Sakura knew stealth was her only option.