By the time September came I had practically memorized Dr. Yagyu's chapters about Ronin, but aside from that, nothing else otherworldly had happened. I was a little disappointed about that, but mostly relieved. I really didn't want the demon-realm to get active and maybe break through to Earth again, mostly because I hadn't the slightest idea what I would be supposed to do if that happened. So when the days continued to pass normally, I concluded that I was right in thinking I was just a guardian of the orb and would not need to worry about ever using it.

Yeah, right.

Anyway, I had other things on my mind as August ended. I was still working and training with the katana, of course, and Kigan-san had begun to teach me how to fight with twin katanas- one in each hand. It was a very tiring process, my reactions and balance changed a lot, and and there were a lot of variations to learn, so it was a real challenge. The sensei seemed pleased with my progress, though, and that was all the incentive I needed. 

When September came, I went back to school with my usual mix of relief and regret. At first it was hard to believe that I was in sixth grade, at the top of the school, but the work was so hard that I soon wished I wasn't. The teacher was awfully uptight and constantly pushed the whole class to do better, frequently reminding us that this was the year we'd take our entrance exams for acceptance into secondary school. He probably meant to motivate us, but all he really did was freak everyone out. I wasn't really looking forward to those exams myself, for several reasons, but I put it in the back of my mind and just worried about getting my assignments turned in. 

It was at the end of October, when most of the leaves had fallen and the trees were all bare, that the next weird thing happened to me. It settled a lot of the questions that Dr. Yagyu's book had left unanswered, but it left me with more questions that only time would answer. And I'm not really a patient person. 

What happened was, at first, completely natural, if very dangerous. I woke up before my alarm one morning to find White Blaze tugging on my hand with his teeth, not quite biting me, but close. He was terribly upset, his ears flat, eyes wide, tail held low and a growl rumbling deep in his throat. I sat up quickly and let him pull me out of bed, wondering anxiously if this was the 'weird behavior' the doctor had mentioned. Blaze led me to the front door; I warily opened it and looked around- and stiffened at the strong smell of smoke blowing at me from the west. I scanned the forest quickly, but saw nothing; looked up at the sky, but it was too dark to see any sign of smoke. But from the way my tiger was acting, the fire couldn't be far away. "I need a better view," I muttered to Blaze, ran to the nearest tree, and scrambled into the branches. 

I was about halfway to the top, straining my eyes for a hint of smoke that would tell me where the fire was, when I heard the gunshot and swore viciously. Poachers. It had to be. Poachers must have set the fire in order to spook the game into running where they could shoot it, in spite of the fact that fire-hunting was strictly forbidden and the deer season was already over. Summer and early fall were deer season, to thin out the herds so there would be more grazing for fewer animals. It kept the numbers down, and kept starvation and illness from striking the herds so heavily.

Then I reached the top of the tree, and everything fled my mind as I stared around at the horizon. I still couldn't see the smoke very well, but there was a flickering red glow rising from three directions- not in three separate areas but in one long, curving wall that ran north to east to south, enclosing the area around my home in a rough horseshoe of flame. And the wind was blowing west, carrying the fire towards the one area that wasn't already burning. I swore again, louder, slithered down the tree as fast as I could manage, and took off through the woods, running at an angle to the Azu road. I only hoped I could make it to the town before I was cut off. If not, my home was as good as gone, and maybe me and White Blaze as well.

It was the wind that defeated me. Gusts of west-blowing wind sent smoke drifting across my path, and I could soon see the dull red flames not far away on my left. I angled right, toward the road, only to see the fire burning on the other side of it. White Blaze bounded beside me, snarling, then abruptly halted and stood lashing his tail, head lowered as though to attack. I skidded to a halt and saw what had stopped him. Ahead of us, the pincher of fire had closed; we couldn't get past. And a few yards from that firey wall stood four of the poachers, trapped by their own blaze. Hearing us, they turned, guns leveling at me and my tiger.

I heard the clicks of their guns, but from a distance. Smoke drifted past me, blurring their shapes, and the world seemed to slow to a halt as the heat of the fire slid softly over my skin. Strength rushed through me, there was a blinding red flash and for what seemed a long time, the world was red. Oddly, chimes sang in my ears and I turned to look for the source of the sound. The fire was beside me, lapping around my red-booted feet, caressing my legs with delicious warmth; standing a few feet away, wrapped in the flames, was a white-haired man with a staff. The sound was coming from the golden metal rings that encircled the ornament on top of it.

"Rekka," the man said softly, "your strength comes from heat. Fire is your element. Call the yoroi rekka, my son. Take up your armor. The Dynasty will be upon you soon, and the Ronin will be the world's last hope. You must master your armor, be true to the virtue of your armor, if you are to succeed. And if you fall, the Dynasty will conquer, as they tried to do one thousand years ago."

I stared at him, slowly taking in the round peasant hat, the blue coat, the white pouch around his neck, the bindings on his arms and legs. A monk, then, of some obscure clan. The chimes of his staff sounded again, and I blinked. "How do I master the armor, uncle? How do I call it?" I asked almost dreamily.

"Your virtue is jin," was the reply. "Listen to your heart. Let the heat of the fire guide you."

I think I frowned a little. "I really don't understand that," I told him politely. "I don't think I'm especially jin, and I already tried-" I stopped and looked down at the red and white body armor encasing me. "Does it just come when it's needed? And am I supposed to fight that Dynasty all by myself?"

"Listen to your heart," he repeated patiently. "The armor has chosen you; if you accept it, it will guide you. But if you are not true to the spirit of the armor, if you use it in spite or hatred or the hunger for power, it will turn evil and you will become one with the Dynasty." He paused, then added, "You do not fight alone, Rekka. Justice, Trust, Wisdom and Life will join you in your battle. Seek them out, but be wary of whom you confide in." And then, with a last clash of chimes, he disappeared, leaving me with a lot to think about as I stared into the barrels of four huge shotguns.

They probably weren't so big, but from my end of things, they were enormous, and as I stared, I felt sudden fury. How dare these men break the laws, endanger me and Blaze, the animals, the thousands of miles of land with their rotten, selfish carelessness? How many people would lose their homes or even be killed before the flames could be brought under control? It was wrong! Something seemed to crackle deep inside me; I closed my eyes, felt my arms lift above my head, heard my voice calling out words- and as I brought my hands down, red light seemed to burst from between them. I had a brief, sharp vision of a suit of red, empty armor rushing at me- and with a white flash, weight landed on my arms, chest, legs and head. Another weight settled onto my back, and when I opened my eyes, I knew without looking that the yoroi had come to me. I also knew what to do, for the fire around my feet died out as I stepped forward. I was Rekka, Wildfire; Fire was mine and I could either start it- or put it out.

"You deserve to die in this trap you've made for yourselves," I told the gawking men, all of whom were cringing away from the heat surrounding them. "But if you will leave your weapons and swear now to never hunt again, I will put out the fire and let you go."

There was a momentary silence, and then one of the men threw his gun down and dropped to one knee. "I'll turn myself in," he almost wailed. "Don't let me burn!" The other three quickly followed his example, dropping their weapons and pleading with me. I didn't say anything, but turned to the fire and stretched out my hands, concentrating, willing it to go out. It worked: the flames died away immediately, leaving only scorched leaves and earth. The smoke turned from black to gray and began to thin out as I slowly turned up the fireline, smothering yards of searing bushes and trees at a time. When the entire area was clear of flames, I paused and looked at the men. 

"Go. But don't forget," I warned them. "I know who you are, and I'll know how to find you if you break your word." I wasn't sure how I knew that, but it was the truth. The four men scrambled up and backed away, bowing so deeply that they nearly fell over, babbling assurances and promises. White Blaze- whom I had half-forgotten in the commotion- suddenly roared, pacing toward them, and they all turned and fled. I didn't watch them go; I had other things to worry about. I turned back to the fire that was still burning on the other side of the road and concentrated hard on putting it all out. A flash of heat burst through me, and when it faded, the flames were gone. It was almost as if I had absorbed it- and perhaps I had. 

It took me a good hour to extinguish the fire, right down to the last glowing embers. The heavy smoke lingered in the air, and the blackened line of burned grass was dangerously close to my house, but I was too relieved- that's not the word: thrilled- at having stopped the fire single-handedly to worry much about it. The west wind was still blowing, bringing rain-clouds with it; a few fat drops fell and hissed on my armor as I walked up the steps and into the house. I closed the door behind White Blaze, who had followed me in, and then I stood looking down at myself for a while, studying the strange contraption I was wrapped up in.

Underneath, I soon saw, it was the same red-and-white body armor. But pieces had been added to it, attached to the red parts of the metal- the parts I thought must have been mystical. There were spikes on my feet now, so that if I kicked someone, they'd get two small holes in them; and shin-guards; and a bigger spike on each knee that didn't seem to interfere with my walking or running. I had a feeling it might make kneeling down something of a problem, but that was okay; I didn't plan to be doing much kneeling. The odd shorts-like part now had several long, solid, curved pieces that protected the sides and backs of my legs- but it was only attached at the waist, not on my legs themselves. There was other protection in that general area, too. The chest-plate was heavier and more solid than before; thicker red metal across my chest and shoulders and some tough but more flexible black substance along my sides, so I could turn and bend easily. The backs of my wrists had been reinforced, too, all the way up to the elbow, and there was a sort of deflector-prong about halfway up. The shoulders were really different, with long wing-like rectangles sticking out and a smaller triangular shield sort of thing underneath. I figured that was meant to keep anyone from getting in a serious hit at my neck, because as best I could tell, the angle would have been about impossible. The shoulder sections both had areas of black on them, too, and I wondered what that was for- maybe just to make the whole thing lighter.

Then I lifted my hands to the heavy thing on my head and slowly took off the helmet to look at it. It was all red, except for two shining silver pieces curving up on each side- not horns, more like scimitar blades. The back of it was long, to cover my neck and probably part of my back, too, but at the sides it curved up and got shorter, becoming cheek-pieces that would protect my face. There was a nose-guard, too, and something rather like a visor. On the very top was a piece that looked like it belonged on the tail of an airplane, and I had to think about it for a while before I got it: that was to deflect anything that came crashing down on top of my head. I put the helmet down on the sofa, carefully, and tried to look over my shoulder to see what was on my back. That wasn't very easy (though it did draw my attention to the emblem on the front of each shoulder: a gold diamond on black, slashed into four smaller diamonds) but I did manage to make out two black-wrapped hilts and finally ran into the bathroom to see if they were what I thought they were. And they were: twin katanas in black sheaths, held to my back by two small metal grips in the armor itself.

Drawing the swords took a little maneuvering, especially in the tiny bathroom, but I soon got the angle right- I had to pull them up first, and then forward between my shoulder and face; otherwise they banged into the armor-wing or got stuck halfway out- and admired them. They were beautiful swords, with clean, simple lines, and there was something in them that made my fingers tingle, even through the armor. Or maybe I was just a little hyper. They were lighter than the swords my sensei had me practicing with, and I moved through several of the forms before I realized the bathroom really wasn't the place for that kind of thing and sheathed them. Well...more like I tried to sheathe them. Sticking a sword into a sheath you can't see because it's behind you is a pretty tricky maneuver, let me tell you. And looking in the mirror didn't help much. I guess that was my first hint that this business wasn't going to be all enjoyment. 

No kidding...

Anyway, once I finally got the swords back where they belonged, I went out into the living room and drew them again. And put them back. And so on, probably twenty or thirty times, until I had gotten a lot more used to the angle and motion I needed to do it right. Then I practiced a while with them, getting the feel of them. They were a little longer than Kigan-san's training swords, a whole lot sharper, and surprisingly light. I started to go over one of my training routines, but halfway through it I had to stop, suddenly too tired to keep going. The light swords seemed terribly heavy; I managed to sheath them, then stood a moment, wondering how to take this two-ton pile of metal off. I didn't think concentrating on the jin orb would do much good; since I had to summon them both separately, I probably had to remove them separately, too- and I couldn't remember what I'd done or said to call the rekka anyway. Finally- with my knees starting to feel rather shaky under me- I simply shut my eyes and concentrated on the armor disappearing. To my amazement, it worked; there was another of those brief hot feelings and then the weight seemed to melt away from me. I turned my thoughts to the orb, and a few seconds later, felt the small warm globe drop into my bare hand.

"That's a lot better," I observed, and sat down on the sofa with a sigh, acutely tired, very hungry- and, I realized in horror- extremely late for school. I leaned back with a groan; it would be at least another hour before I could get there, and I wasn't sure that I might not just fall asleep in class anyway. "There was a forest fire," I muttered, forcing myself to get up off the sofa and walk into the kitchen. "That's excuse enough, I think, for missing a day. I don't think I'll tell 'em I put it out by myself, though..." 

'Secrets,' I thought as I found something in the refrigerator and sat down on the floor to eat it. I had too many secrets. Living alone, befriended by a tiger, powered by fire, owner of magic armor...and no one I dared tell any of it to. 'Except the tiger,' I amended as White Blaze came into the kitchen and nudged me, then curled himself up in a heap next to me. When I finished eating, I checked his feet and coat to make sure he hadn't been burned anywhere, smiling as he licked my hands. I found a few singed spots in his fur, but no real harm had been done, fortunately. If those poachers had been responsible for hurting my friend... I petted him for a while, yawning every few minutes, and when his big paw reached up to pull me down against his warm, sleek side, I didn't resist. I fell asleep right there on the kitchen floor, my head on Blaze's flank, and didn't wake up until about sunset- and then only long enough to eat again and crawl into my bed.

I had a lot of explaining to do the next day, both at school and at the dojo, but my excuse that I had been cut off by the fire and breathed an awful lot of smoke before the rain put it out seemed to satisfy everyone. It didn't hurt that I really did sound hoarse. My teacher advised me to drink a lot of lemon tea for my throat and excused me from soccer practice; my sensei tried to keep me from practicing at all, but I insisted on running through some easy drills anyway. I think I looked and sounded worse than I felt; I was still a little tired, but no more than if I'd stayed up too late and only gotten four or five hours of sleep. In fact, I got better as the day went on. The school was heated, and the little laundry room in the dojo was actually hot, thanks to the dryer, so by the time I was ready to go home, I felt more or less normal again.

Relatively speaking, of course!

I never did see those four poachers again, but I have the feeling they kept their word and obeyed the hunting laws from then on out. Some fire investigators came out from Toyama to look into the cause of the fire, and their official report was published in the Azu paper. It seemed the fire had been set by four relatively inexperienced poachers who had died of smoke inhalation when the winds shifted- due to an incoming cold front- and trapped them in a ring of fire. The cold front, however fatal it had proven for the four, had been an Act of Heaven, putting the fire out before it could devastate thousands of acres, including some very fertile farmland east and south of the forest. Rumors of an angry fire-god- or perhaps an angry nature-god- seen among the flames in the forest were dismissed as hysteria. 

I felt pretty bad about that. I'd been very angry, but I hadn't wanted anyone to die- even if their own foolishness had been mostly responsible. I should have asked the ones I encountered if there were any more of them around. And I wasn't entirely happy about the 'fire-god' rumors, either; apparently they'd been talking quite a lot about their run-in with Rekka...me. What got me rolling my eyes in annoyance, though, was that all of a sudden, almost everyone in Azu was ready to swear that there was some kind of spirit up in the woods. Everyone knew that; it had been legend for years; that was why no logging could be allowed, even though it would have been very profitable, it wasn't worth angering the spirit that some had seen- a spirit in the shape of a giant white tiger... Obviously someone had caught a glimpse of White Blaze, and after I heard about that, I warned him to do his hunting away from the village. I didn't want anyone deciding he was the genuine thing and either trapping or shooting him.

For the rest of the autumn, a lot of attention focused on the forest, and I didn't like that much. Many of my classmates asked me if I'd ever seen the spirit and wasn't I afraid to live up there and other questions that I found awkward. That was annoying enough, but with all the attention focused on me, I was more worried that the adults would think too much about the fact that no one had seen my father for years and my grandparents were both gone- and take steps. No one did- or if they did, they didn't say anything about it to me, and nothing came of it. By the time the winter break came, the attention had died down, but I was still fairly uneasy about it all. 

All put together, it was an unsatisfactory winter. Not as bad as the winter after Grandmother's death- I still don't talk about that one- but it was unpleasant in a lot of ways.

First of all, there was that armor. I summoned it and banished it, practiced with the swords and tested my fire-control. I got very good at making fires from nothing and putting them out; it was tiring at first, but as I got better at it, it stopped being an effort. But I kept having the uneasy feeling that what I was doing wasn't really 'mastering' it. I didn't know what else I was supposed to be figuring out; I didn't even know how to 'listen' to the jin or the rekka or whatever to hear what it might have to 'tell' me. It was extremely frustrating.

Next to that, there was the Dynasty. The Ancient One had said they would waken and return, and told me I would need to fight them with Justice, Trust, Wisdom and Life. I had figured out that those were the other four Ronin who made up 'the five', but how I was supposed to go about finding them was beyond me- and how much time I had to do so was another big unanswered question. I read through Dr. Yagyu's book again, but it didn't help much; it was all about the past, not about the future. I tried looking at that other, mysterious book again, too; more of it made sense, now that I knew a little bit, but it still didn't answer my questions. I started to get rather annoyed with the Ancient One at that point; if there was something I needed to know, he ought to tell me, not wait around and play guessing games with me.

School didn't make things any easier. I'd never been so stressed out at school before; I didn't even enjoy soccer as much as I used to, not when I had stacks of homework hanging over my head, and was kind of relieved when it ended for the year. I was even more relieved when the winter break came, and really enjoyed the first week off, but it wasn't long before I started feeling restless and almost bored. It didn't help that the dojo was shut down for most of my holiday; Kigan-san and his brother had gone to Tokyo to visit family, so there was no work for me to do. I often walked down to the village anyway, just to see what was going on and to get out of the house for a while, and as the days went by, I found I was finding reasons not to go home when I had done whatever I wanted to do in the village. Sometimes I didn't go home; I spent a lot of time that winter wandering in the woods, just as I had done when I was younger, but a lot less carefree. I told myself it was exercising, staying in shape since there was neither soccer nor swordplay to practice on, but that didn't account for my reluctance to go into the house. 

And then there was New Years. That really brought me down, just like my birthday had done, and I was glad when school started up a few days later. No one else was very pleased to be back, but I'd had more than enough of holidays and almost enjoyed the homework that got dumped on us. It was something to do when I got home at night; it was better than thinking.

The problem, of course, was that I was by myself. I'd never really gotten used to Grandfather and Grandmother being gone, and spending my days alone really drove home the fact that I was alone- except for Blaze. I missed them. The house still seemed too big and empty, and I still couldn't stop expecting to see them every time I went into the living room or kitchen or out to the woodpile. I started having bad dreams, even with White Blaze beside me as comfort, and the sight of their closed bedroom door- I still couldn't make myself go in there- often made my eyes burn. It seemed like the emptiness of the house just reflected how empty I was inside, and it wasn't numb anymore.

I still haven't decided which is worse: being unable to sleep from grief and fear, or managing to sleep but waking up with nightmares. Neither has much to recommend it.

But there was one change; despite how much I missed them, I could no longer bring myself to wish that I had them back again. If they were there, with me, it would have been wonderful for me...but not for them. That was something I hadn't thought about before. There would be no insurance-money, only Grandfather's wages. They would be cold; I only needed the fire, but they would have suffered without heat. Grandfather would have been tired and worried all the time; Grandmother would have been sick and weak. They both would have been hungry- all of us would have been hungry. Having them back would have taken away my loneliness, but it would have been replaced with worry and fear for them. And how long would it have been before I had to lose them anyway? Grandmother had been right- everyone dies, and that fact has to be faced and accepted, no matter how painful it is.

In a way, I understand why my father was always so unhappy when he came home yet was so reluctant to change things. The fact that I didn't have to be so careful about electricity and hot water anymore had made no real difference to me; I still couldn't bring myself to change the routine that Grandmother had gotten me accustomed to, and I would have felt too guilty about indulging myself anyway. I suppose I was a little paranoid about it, too; I figured I might need that extra later, if not for food then for clothes, or repairs, or maybe a medical emergency. Sometimes it seemed almost comforting; in a way, it was as if Grandmother and Grandfather were still looking after me, providing for me. But in another way, it made the fact that their lives were over so final. 

If it hadn't been for White Blaze, the winter would have been completely miserable again, not just about half-miserable. He made me laugh, comforted me after my dreams, played in the forest with me, listened to me, picked on me, let me pick on him- all that, and he made a great pillow, too. But a tiger needs to eat- a lot- so he was away from the house for some time almost every day, hunting. That wasn't much of a problem when I was in school, but during the break, it was pretty depressing, and it was the cause of a rather unfortunate discovery. One Sunday when he was out hunting and I was trying to find something interesting to occupy my mind, I remembered how I used to make up imaginary friends and interact, so to speak, with them. So, feeling pretty silly but also pretty- well, needy- I tried it.

The result- well, I could remember them all. What I'd named them, what they 'looked' like, how they behaved. But there wasn't anything...there. Whatever personalities I had given them had vanished, as if I'd reached out to pick up what I'd thought was a diamond and found it was nothing but a lump of coal. They weren't real, had never been real, and could never truly be my friends.

It's a sickening feeling, to be abandoned by your own imaginary playmates. 

I wasn't so much upset as I was desolately empty; I'd known all along, but now I had to face it: it had only been my overactive imagination at work. I sat staring through the fire for a while, and then, as my eyes started to fill up, I lay down and tried to just not think at all. 

Either I fell asleep or I had a daydream, I still don't know which, but it seemed that I was standing in a wide-open area near a lake. I was walking somewhere, for there was a road under my feet; the sun was shining- and there were people around me. I couldn't see their faces or tell much about them, but they were laughing and talking- and I was laughing too, and talking with them. I was happy and content; I didn't want the journey to end, because I knew when it did, I'd wake up. But the further we went, the more I could see them, and I really wanted to know who they were. I still couldn't make out details, but I could tell they were all about my age, and they seemed to be all boys. Their voices were distant, I could hear clearly enough to tell that they were from different parts of the country- or maybe even different parts of the world. And then, just as I was going to ask them where we were going, and why, the dream started to fade. One by one, they disappeared into the sunlight, smiling at me and saying, 'See you later,' and 'Take it easy, ok?' and things like that. I couldn't stop them; I reached for them and felt their hands brush against mine as they disappeared. 

"Wait!" I called after them. "Wait, where are you going? Come back!" 

One of them- the last one- seemed to hesitate, looking back at me over his shoulder, and through the thickening light I could see clear green eyes and a look of gentle concern. "It's not time yet, Ryo," he said regretfully. I thought he was going to say something else, but the light around him brightened and he was gone, leaving me with the sound of my name whispering faintly in my ears. 

I sat up, blinking. The fire had burned down and the room was dark. White Blaze wasn't back yet, and my stomach was growling. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, then got up off the couch and went into the kitchen to find something interesting to eat, all the while locking that dream into the deepest part of my mind. I didn't know who they were yet, but when the time came, they would be my friends. Real friends, not imaginary ones. Then I frowned. "I dunno," I muttered at the frying pan; "maybe I'm just fooling myself. I seem to be a little too good at that sometimes. But Blaze started as a dream, so maybe...maybe, maybe, too many maybes. If they are, they are; if they aren't, at least it wasn't another nightmare." And with that, I resolved to wait and see what happened when the 'right time' came. "Too many things to wait for," I observed to the cutting board. "Soon, the Dynasty, the right time for those people...can't anyone ever fix a proper time and date on anything?"

I think I've mentioned that I'm not a very patient person? I certainly wasn't that winter.