Thanks for taking the time to check out my new story:D Honestly it's been a while and my fingers were just itching to write, so tada~ Welcome to my newest story! This story includes time-space travel and also my favorite couple, Raikim:) I really hope you all like this story, I've been dying to get this idea outta my head for like a month.

(I just fixed those tiny mistakes that I've made)


Her hands - stained crimson red - gently traced the wide gash in his torso. She knew, no amount of pressure would ever be able to stop the warm liquid from oozing out; at least not until he finally bled himself dry. Already, his hands were shivering and Kimiko, whose head was hovering over his own, forced her focus toward the sound of wind rushing past. It was all she could do at this point to remain sane.

Soaring through the skies atop a mythical dragon always involved quite a bit of jerking, but today, each coarse movement was followed by a new surge of pain. Raimundo grunted, digging the back of his head into the lap of his wife. Warm teardrops descended upon his cheeks – teardrops that didn't belong to him. They were Kimiko's and more than anything, Raimundo hated to see those tears.

He reached out with his only able arm.

"Don't cry."

His hand felt cold against her skin, the blood from under his thumb smearing with the trail of tears down her cheek. "Be strong for the kids, and for the both of us."

Suppressed sobs could be heard from up front. If either husband or wife had shifted their gaze by just a little, they would have noticed the cowboy's ten gallon hat badly wrinkled in clenched fists and the horrible meditation stance that the bald yellow monk had adopted. Of course, as the eldest of the group, now well in his thirties, Clay wouldn't allow himself to cry. But the same could not be said for the youngest. It wasn't fair, it should have been him. It should have been him…

"Kim, I need you to promise me something." Raimundo's voice was barely fit to be known as a whisper. But from where Omi sat at the neck of the dragon, he could hear the dying man just fine.

There was silence, each one of them simply listening to their leader. The words slurred through his barely moving lips and even if this were to be his final requests, the two gentlemen and even the dragon himself doubted that it could be fulfilled.

"Kimiko, please… Promise me." His determined gaze was fixed onto hers, yet the touch of his hand against her cheek ever gentle.

"Promise me."

Fear; Even the almighty Shoku Warrior feared death. He couldn't… he had a family waiting for his return, a caring wife who he loved and swore to protect for all of eternity.

He couldn't afford to die - not yet…

And with his final breath of air, a single teardrop fell.

"You… have to… promise… me…"

And before anything else could be said, he was gone.

That was the future; a future that was never meant to exist. Altered by a disruption in the space-time continuum, nobody ever realised just how much the future had strayed from its original path.

On that fateful day, the journey lasted much longer than what was required; Dojo circling the skies for several more hours, too afraid to land. He had waited - waited until the tears of the widowed individual had finally run dry, until she no longer had the strength to sob no more. The team - now incomplete - sat in solemn silence for about a half hour more before the mythical dragon had the heart to ask if a landing, down by the nearby hospital, was still necessary. But when he finally did, no one dared to answer. No one said a word; no one except for the one whose face no longer bore any form of expression whatsoever.

"No." Her fingers slid across her lover's handsome features, pushing his eyelids to a close - and if not for all that blood, the dragon of the wind would have truly looked as though he were peaceful; sleeping.

"Just take us home…"

Raimundo Pedrosa wasn't supposed to die that day.

-Year 2013-

The wind, it was trying to tell him something - he was sure of it. One way or another, the wind had always found ways to speak to him, yet not always was he able to understand. It was only during times like this where he truly wished he did. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed and mind deep in thought, Raimundo barely noticed the soft patter of footsteps approaching, or at least, he barely noticed until it came to a stop less than a meter to his right.

"Of all the places to go to, you pick the roof?"

If the dragon of the wind hadn't known her any better, he would've thought she sounded rather annoyed. "Really Rai? You couldn't pick a better spot to hide from unwashed dishes?"

He chuckled, reaching out to catch the portable game console that the tech-savvy girl had tossed over. "Hide? Please, I'd be better off doing the hokey pokey in the meditation garden with the Shroud of Shadows over my head." Several years of friendship had really brought them closer; so much to the point where she even knew where to look whenever he disappeared from having to do his portion of the chores. "Call it… taking refuge."

"Call it whatever you want Rai, but dishes still won't wash themselves."

"Oh hell..." He sighed, raking a hand through his dark hair.

But there was no victory smirk, no laughing at the boy's misery. Kimiko sunk down next to him, her feet dangling off the edge of the brick roof, swinging back, forth. Back, forth.

And this was one of the rarest sights to be known. Raimundo and Kimiko together yet voided of their usual banter.

He took one glance and deemed her a nervous wreck. "Why are you really here?"

"W -well, you didn't show up for training so... What?" Her words faded off into almost inaudible murmurs. "I was worried..."

There was an irritating burn in her cheeks and with Raimundo sporting a smirk of his own, she held a huge, indescribable urge to slap the boy.

'I need to see the future.'

That statement didn't come as a shock - not to anyone. After the discovery of that new Shen Gong Wu hidden directly underneath the temple grounds, everyone knew that the question of time-travel would arise once again sooner or later. The only uncertainty was who would be the one to voice it out.

"Don't go."

Raimundo frowned. He wasn't expecting this, especially not from her. Clay, Dojo and even Master Fung himself had doubted his plans. Omi had been excited about it after Raimundo told the little guy about the possibility of his shiny bald scalp ever sprouting hair, and Kimiko; well… she hadn't said anything. But now that she has, he really wished she hadn't.

"I thought you of all people would want to go."

"I do," He couldn't help but notice her slim fingers fiddling with the skirts of her robe. "But what if we fail? What if we can't return to this time line? What if we don't like what we see?"

What if, what if, what if… So many questions, so many worries. But before she had the chance to ramble on, rough hands grabbed her by the cheeks as a pair of warm lips descended towards her height, seizing her own.

She stiffened. He was kissing her. Raimundo Pedrosa was kissing her! And just like that, she closed her eyes, leaning in. He was rough, urgent, as if he'd been holding back for a long time and Kimiko did her best to match his eager, feeling her legs go soft. His hand travelled up to tangle in her raven hair before a huge gust of wind danced past. The warmth of his lips disappeared and by the time Kimiko reopened her eyes, just like the wind, he was gone.

Through a glass globe and the crow's eye - keep your allies close and your enemies closer. What the crow sees, he sees; and with the creature circling the skies around the Xiaolin temple, he saw everything.

He smirked.

Ridiculous trinkets like Shen Gong Wu never did deserve his attention, but the Chronos Clock - the one wu that Dashi went lengths to hide underneath the temple grounds - he wanted.

Immortality always did have its perks. If the Xiaolin monks were going to play with time and space, then so shall he. After all, they only had decades to live, whereas he, Chase Young, had all of eternity to play.

And so, toy with them he shall.

The sound of impact bounced off concrete walls, echoing through the long hallways. The sting lingering on his cheek longer than it should have.

"This is all just a game to you... isn't it?"

His cheek burned with a red mark and yet, even as his head snapped to the right as her hand met his skin, he wasn't mad. Not the least.

He'd kissed her, then hit on girls from different parts of the globe all over again whilst on their usual Shen Gong Wu hunt. All of that compacted into one single day. She was tired.

"It's not a game," he said, "You're not a game. Not to me."

"Save it." She turned to place a hand on the doorknob, "Have fun visiting future. I'm not coming tomorrow."



With that she retreated into her room, the door closing behind her. And just like that, Raimundo was left standing alone in the darkened hallways.

He'd thought of knocking, he truly did. But pride wouldn't allow it; the same pride which led to his escape from the temple roof that very afternoon.

He fucked up. He really fucked up, they both knew it.

"Christ... "

As promised, she didn't show.

He'd tossed in bed for hours, flipping the blanket off and pulling it back on again. Sleep never came to him.

He expected her to change her mind; claim that the boys needed someone to make sure they'll stay out of trouble. He'd expected that, but it didn't happen. Then again, he had expected Kimiko to be jealous by his constant flirting with foreign beauties, but no, she was furious - dead furious - and he'd gained a painful slap to the face last night to prove it.

"Do not worry Master Fung, we will try our best to return by yesterday."

Clay and even Master Fung had raised an eyebrow at this. That was by far one of the weirdest things little Omi had ever said, but for once, there was no mistake about it; if they return before the present day, it'll be as though they'd never left. And yet, it sounded absurd anyways.

"Still not too sure I know how to work this thing." Raimundo shrugged, pushing the clock to the cowboy. "I think my future self will do a better job at sending me back."

"And if he doesn't, I'm pretty sure future Kimiko would still be more than happy to help you out."

Although Clay hadn't meant for it, his words stung.

"Raimundo," Master Fung sounded serious, "the secrets of the future should never be brought back to the past. Do not alter what must be."

The Shoku warrior nodded in consent, but everyone who knew him well was smart enough not to count on it. Raimundo Pedrosa wasn't going to step into the future without digging up a few secrets, and even if he didn't, they all knew that Omi would.

"Come pick us up if we're not back in a week?"

"Even if we have to drag you kids back," Dojo flashed the grinning brunette a quick thumbs-up, holding up the Chronos Clock. Even for Raimundo, this was the first that they've seen the clock this close. It wasn't as extravagant as they'd thought. It was ancient.

"Chronos Clock!"

He felt himself falling - falling, tumbling, and from beside him, yelling. Then suddenly, pain.

He'd hit dirt. Rock, solid dirt. It hurt, but he'd arrived safe and sound – dizzy and a little irritated – but other wise, well. Or at least, well up to the point when Omi tumbled out right on top of him.

Now he was irritated. Groaning, Raimundo shoved the young monk away, watching him tumble once more before hitting ground. He got to his feet. Nothing was worse than a splitting headache in the morning.

He heard the sound of water. A stream. And along with it, singing. Curious, he pushed forward leaving Omi no choice but to stagger behind him, almost moving in circles.

It didn't take long, they found their stream. But the singing had stopped. And then, it started again, repeating the same tune, the same verse, the same lyrics.

That was then where Raimundo realised; he knew that song.

He turned swiftly, his eyes searching, scanning, combing the area and then, it stopped, stopped as completely and abruptly as a gaze could be stopped.

The banks of the stream was soft, grassy. On the grassy banks stood a lone willow tree, and under the shade of the tree sat a woman - the woman who now sang the lyrics from his childhood. He couldn't look away if his life depended on it, and in a way, perhaps it did.

"She's crying."

Omi was right, she was. Perhaps it was because of her dark hair, twisting in the wind, demanding attention - perhaps it was the song from his past - but whatever the reason was, Raimundo hadn't noticed tears. Now that he had, he watched the tears travel down her pale cheeks, simply falling onto the grass from her chin.

And cautiously, they approached.

One step, two. Before the third could be made, the woman had already noticed they were here. She turned, looking straight at them both. Her eyes were red, slightly puffy, but within the iris of her pupils, blue. Deep, dark, blue.

She stared. Something flashed in her eyes, recognition maybe - recognition that was directed straight at him. She was gorgeous, and Raimundo, was speechless.

"K... Kimiko?"

A BIG HUGE GIGANTIC THANKYOU to everyone who has made it to the end of Chapter 1!

I sorta pictured this whole chapter in my head and the words just kinda flowed out, so I'm still really worried that it's too fast paced or vague. So I MAY revisit this chapter for major editing depending on the responses I get, so I'll REALLY appreciate it if you guys could drop off some comments and reviews to help out with this chapter.

So should I continue? Should I rewrite?