"Are you going to eat that sandwich, or are you going to stare at it all lunch?"

I frowned at the sandwich in my hand, wondering why it looked so unappetizing, then sighed and took a bite. It tasted fine, but I wasn't really in the mood for it.

"You're not coming down sick too, are you?" Sage's tone was less amused this time and the look he gave me had a bit of concern in it. "The day you don't eat..."

I shook my head, swallowed, and said, "I'm fine. I'm just worried about Rowen, and it's hard to eat when I worry."

"I'm starting to get worried myself," Sage admitted, all traces of teasing gone from his voice. "It's been five days now, and it doesn't usually take that long to get over a cold. I hope he doesn't have something worse."

I made myself keep eating, though my heart definitely wasn't in it. "Flu, maybe. Like sensei Kigan. I guess it's going around again." I wondered again if I might have 'carried' the virus from Rowen to my sword-instructor...or the other way around. I very rarely get sick- Sage thinks it's something to do with my higher body-temperature- but that didn't mean I couldn't be a carrier. 

"Yes, almost half my class is out...it makes me glad now that people don't approach me often." Sage frowned down at his own lunch, then picked up one of his carrot slices and bit it. I nodded agreement and concentrated on finishing my sandwich, noticing how loud the crunching seemed in the empty hall. When you're used to being three, being two is a quiet and troubling experience. 

"I keep thinking about what he said last week, the trouble in his family," I said a few minutes later, crumbling my sandwich-bag into a ball.

"Thinking that might have something to do with him not being here? How?" 

"I don't know. Maybe it's nothing, but I don't have a good feeling." I shrugged. "He was so depressed about it..."

Sage frowned and bit into his next carrot-stick with unusual sternness. "It would be very unpleasant, to be stuck at home when there's trouble in the family," he noted after a moment. "It also might not be the best time for visitors- but he's missed a lot of work, and exams are coming soon. Maybe we should take him this week's homework assignments. He won't want to fall too far behind."

"That's a great idea," I answered, cheering up a little at this plan. It was an excuse that no one could reasonably object to, and there wouldn't be any embarrassment- which there would probably be if we turned up uninvited just to ask if everything was all right. "We don't have to stay long if he's not in the mood for visitors." In fact, we probably wouldn't stay long anyway; Rowen hadn't really made a secret of the fact that he wasn't very comfortable in our company these days. Still, he hadn't rejected us altogether, and we were both hoping for the situation to improve. I thought that the 'family trouble' he'd mentioned might bring him closer to us, while Sage felt that Rowen would probably distance himself even further. The crazy thing was, we both seemed to be right. Rowen almost never turned down a chance to be with us, but he was always so silent and lost in his thoughts that he might as well have been on the moon. 

"And since it's the afternoon, hopefully whatever sort of family problem there might be won't be...active," Sage mused, and I knew my brother's thoughts were following mine. This kept happening lately, though not in the way that I had experienced when General Date had beaten him so violently. This way was much milder and not at all physical, which was a relief, if a rather puzzling situation. The only theory we had was that it might have something to do with the armor: maybe all the armor-bearers could gather each other's thoughts, once they knew each other well enough. It would have been nice if we could do it without knowing each other, though; it would have been a great way to find each other-

It's funny how the end-of-lunch bell always seemed to ring just when I was distracted with thoughts and scare me half out of my skin. Today was no different and I grumbled a little as I got up to go back to class. Sage, amused at my muttering, gave me a light pat on the arm for farewell and went back to his own classroom as I went in to take my seat. I threw my trash in the waste-basket, sat down at my desk and frowned at the empty chair in front of me. It was all wrong, not seeing Rowen in his seat, not being able to ask his advice on the English lessons, not having him as my lab partner...

It seemed to take a year for school to finally end- it drives me crazy that a half-day can seem just as long, or longer, than a full day; it's not right!- but finally it did. I wasn't sure how to get to Rowen's home from the school, but Sage knew which way to go, so I hurried along beside him as he moved confidently down the sidewalk, feeling a little odd to be walking away from the train station instead of towards it. But it was a nice day- for a change- warm and sunny, and I noticed leaf-buds on the few trees we passed. Maybe we were finally finished with ice and snow for the year. I also noticed that there seemed to be fewer people in this direction, which meant we didn't have to dodge around so much. The 'salt towers', as Sage told me Rowen had called them, shone glittery white in the sunlight; I mentioned that they could also be made of sugar, which would be nicer than salt, and Sage laughed and told me he'd said almost the same thing once. 

It was a pretty nice area Rowen lived in: there were plenty of shops in close walking distance, and the street leading from the main road to the parking lot was lined with cherry trees with flower beds arranged around their roots. Not as good as being up in the woods, but a lot better than having nothing just concrete and asphalt to look at. The entryway of the big building was very ornate, which I sort-of remembered from our nighttime visit there, but it looked even grander in the daytime. "Rowen's parents must be very well off to afford such a place," I murmured, looking around as we walked over to the elevator in the corner. The place made me think more of a luxurious hotel than of an apartment building. 

The elevator presented a bit of a problem. We stopped when we reached it and I regarded the silvery doors uncertainly, trying to remember which floor we wanted. Sage glanced at me as I looked over at him; he shrugged, which I had expected. He hadn't been in the best shape to remember much, the last time we were there. "It was something in the twenties," I began, frowning. "But-"

"Did the young gentlemen need assistance?" a voice asked politely from behind me. I turned quickly, startled, and bowed to the man standing there. A small man in a very good suit, with a bald spot on the top of his head- you can't help noticing something like that when someone bows to you. 

"Sir, we've come to see a friend of ours from school," I said politely. "He's been ill and we thought to bring him his homework and see how he is. But we've only been here once before, and my stupid memory can't produce the right apartment."

"Oh, the memory is not at fault; there are too many floors here," the man replied with a twinkle. "If you can tell me the name of the family, I can find him for you on the computer. You see," he added cheerfully, "that even I must cheat to find someone." 

Sage and I both smiled, realizing this must be the landlord. "The name is Hashiba," Sage told him, and the man's smile faded into a sort of blank expression.

"Ah, yes... you would be friends of the son of the family? The one with the...interesting hair, that is him?"

"That one," I agreed ruefully. "One does get used to the hair, in time, though."

"He is a good boy," the man stated, surprising me a little. "Unusual- American- but very courteous and someone has taught him the ways of our country." 

"His parents," Sage remarked, and I knew he found that comment as interesting as I did. Why would the man say 'someone' taught him well instead of 'his parents' have taught him well? "He said his parents made sure he knew the correct ways. Though I think perhaps we have helped in that," he added to me with a little grin.

"I think perhaps you have," the landlord responded seriously, looking us over. "The apartment of Hashiba is on floor twenty-two, door three. I hope he is not too unwell."

Sage and I looked at each other. Family troubles, I thought, and Sage nodded ever so slightly. Whatever troubles they were, they had come to the attention of the landlord- to the point where he had memorized their apartment. Yet he approved of Rowen, despite whatever else was going on. "I guess there is an advantage to being unusual," I remarked, bowing again. "Thank you, sir. We will pass him your regards."

He bowed back. "If anything is required, you may ask for Mokei." He made a gesture which gave us to understand that he was Mokei and would see to any requests personally. Not unusual for ordinary tenants, but for ones who were apparently out of favor? This was getting odder and odder. He must have a very high regard for Rowen. I wonder why?

After a few more obligatory courtesies, Mokei-san hurried off to attend to something else and Sage and I, along with several of the tenants, got into the elevator. That meant, of course, that we couldn't discuss anything until the last person got off at floor nineteen, so all there was really a chance to say was, "That was weird."

"Maybe Rowen will explain," Sage murmured as the car stopped at floor twenty-two and the doors pinged open. 

"Or maybe not," was my irritated comment a few minutes later, when no one had responded to several bell-rings and repeated knocks at the door we'd been directed to. "I hope-" I turned to Sage and said anxiously as the thought suddenly struck me: "-I hope they didn't have to take him to the hospital!" 

"Oh... oh, I hope not!" Sage bit his lip and I leaned my shoulder against the door for a moment-

And nearly fell over as it swung wide open.

I almost landed on my hip on the carpet- something I wasn't eager to do, remembering the hardness of the floor under it- but managed to stumble upright just as Sage grabbed my wrist. Straightening, I took a breath of relief, and grimaced at the stale air in the apartment. "This isn't right," I heard Sage murmur, and I agreed completely. Something was seriously wrong. Stuffy air, unlocked door but no response...I looked around the half-familiar living room. Nothing seemed out of place, and certainly all the furniture was there, so they'd neither been robbed nor suddenly moved. At least, they hadn't been ransacked; it was possible someone had broken in...and kidnapped Rowen? But why would anyone do that?

"I guess his parents aren't home," Sage remarked. I glanced over to see him moving around the sofa and into the hallway. "But then why was the door- oh! Ryo-!" 

I had been about to go into the kitchen, but at that I whipped around- just in time to see Sage drop to his knees. Alarmed, I dodged around the couch and ran to his side- and stopped short at the sight of Rowen lying on his face in the hallway. 

For a moment I really thought he was dead. Then I heard his breathing- weak, raspy, rattling breathing of a kind I'd never heard before- and saw his body twitch as he coughed. Sage drew in a hissing breath and reached out to turn him over; I found a light switch and flicked it on, then crouched beside them. "What it it? What's happened?" I whispered, staring into my friend's face. His skin was almost kabuki-white, his eyes closed with purplish circles under them, his cheeks hollow. And his lips- his half-parted lips had a strange blue color to them. His head lolled against Sage's arm and he moaned softly, then coughed again. Hard. 

"He's very, very ill," Sage said grimly. "He must have been growing worse all week, not better... here, hold him so I can look at him better-" 

Rowen's eyes opened slightly and he turned his head, panting. "Th-thirsty...thirsty," he croaked in English, and went into a spasm of coughing. I glanced at Sage, who nodded.

It probably didn't take me more than seven seconds to get to the kitchen, fill a glass with water, and bring it back. My hands were trembling as I knelt back beside them, and I was more than glad to take Rowen in my arms and let Sage deal with helping him drink some of the water. I didn't want to spill it all over him. Rowen finished the water in several tries, stopping every few seconds to cough, deep, hard coughs that seemed about to tear him apart. At last Sage put the empty glass down and rested his hands on Rowen's chest, feeling here and there, bending down to listen more closely to his raspy breathing, checking his forehead for fever. "Pneumonia," he said at last, very softly. "Both his lungs are badly infected. He's drowning in liquid and he's too weak to cough it out. And even if he could, they'd just fill right up again."

"Then- we need to get him to the hospital-" I tried not to hold Rowen too tightly; he needed all the air he could get.

Sage looked at me and I saw how afraid he was. It made a chill go down my back, that solemn, anxious look. "I don't know if the hospital would do him any good, Ryo. He's so weak that even if he started antibiotics right this minute, he might not be strong enough to fight it off. He hasn't been cared for at all- I can't even tell when he last ate anything and he's badly dehydrated."

"We can't let him die!" I gasped, shaking in earnest as Rowen went into another hacking spasm. "Sage, we have to do something, we can't just- just-"

"I know. I think the only thing-" Sage stopped, dipped his hand into his pocket and drew out the Kourin orb, looking steadily at me as he did. I wondered why in the world he seemed to think he needed my permission to use it, but I also felt a sudden strong hope. If Sage thought Kourin could heal pneumonia, it probably could. I nodded vigorously. 

"If anything can help, that can. Try it, at least- is there anything I can do?"

"Sit him up a little straighter," Sage instructed, pulling off his winter jacket. He glowed green for a moment as the sub-gear appeared, then stood up and made the transformation into full armor. "And hold him steady... try to keep him still," he added a few seconds later, pulling off the unecessary helmet.

I did as he said, lifting Rowen a little higher and leaning back against the wall to brace myself. He didn't seem to be aware of moving, but his breathing did ease a little as I lifted him. 

"Rowen," Sage said firmly, crouching back beside us. "Rowen..." He shook Rowen's shoulder and after a long moment, Rowen's eyes half-opened again. "Rowen, you know you're very sick...I'm going to help you. But it's probably going to feel strange-" Sage paused. Rowen's eyes had opened wider and now he frowned and gasped something in English, his hand going to his chest as he coughed again.

"Too sick to understand Japanese?" I ventured. 

"It must be the fever," Sage muttered, as much to himself as to me. He paused as Rowen mumbled something I didn't quite get, then tried again in English. "Rowen, you...are ill."

Rowen slowly turned to look at him. "S-Sage?" he whispered.

"You are ill," Sage repeated. "I will help you," he went on slowly, and lifted his hand. Green light shone brighter than the overhead light and Rowen blinked. He coughed a few more times, then weakly lifted his free hand towards Sage's.

"Please-" he groaned, and broke into another coughing fit. 

"It may- may feel...weird," Sage warned, catching Rowen's hand and laying both his hands on Rowen's chest. "But it will be okay. Understand?"

Rowen nodded weakly, panting, his eyes closing again. Sage closed his own eyes and the green light increased, enveloping both of them in a blinding halo. I became aware that I was in my subgear without even having thought about it, the light reflecting blindingly off the white and red metal. Reflecting, that's good, I thought; I wasn't accidentally absorbing any of Kourin's power myself. I didn't need it. Rowen needed it. I looked down at him-

Rowen's eyes were wide and scared, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn't breathing at all. His mouth had opened as if to take in air, but he couldn't seem to get any. I looked at Sage in alarm- what little of his face I could see beneath the glow was calm and determined, and after a second or two I understood, somehow, that what was happening was necessary. It was Rowen's lungs Sage was healing, so they had to stop working for a few moments... no wonder he'd warned that it would feel 'weird'. He probably hadn't wanted to spend the time trying to find a better word. 

"It's okay," I whispered, looking back into Rowen's terrified eyes. "It's okay..." He was fading out, I saw. His eyes slid closed, his head turned, his cheek pressed against my armor- and he went limp. 

It was just as well for all of us that Sage completed the healing a few seconds after Rowen fainted. It wasn't as apparent with my gear on, but I was shaking all over from tension, Sage was white with his efforts, and of course Rowen was unconscious from lack of air. The brilliant light suddenly faded to nothing and went out as Sage let out a long sigh and leaned against the opposite wall. I looked anxiously at him for a moment, then down at Rowen, and was beyond relieved to see his chest slowly rising and falling. I was even more relieved that I could no longer hear that awful gurgling, choking noise; every breath was so soft and even that I could hardly hear them at all. I took a rather sudden deep breath of my own and felt myself relax a little. "You did it," I said to Sage, and blinked as his armor dissolved down to the gear. "You are incredible, brother."

Sage blushed a little, lifting his head and smiling somewhat weakly at me before looking at Rowen. "The infection is gone, but he's going to be very weak," he replied, not sounding too strong himself. "His stamina is pretty much not, and his immune system is very vulnerable. Someone's going to have to take very good care of him for a number of days- make sure he rests a lot and eats properly."

"I think we will do that," I suggested. "Since his parents don't seem to be around, and since you put so much effort in."

"I was hoping you'd agree." Sage sat up and his sub-gear disappeared; I took the hint and banished my own. "It'd be like leaving a motherless kitten out in the sleet."

I winced. "Don't say things like that. You make me want to gather up every kitten in Toyama." Poor little Rowen-kitten... I shook off the thought and drew Rowen's bathrobe more securely around his thin body as Sage murmured a 'gomen'. He might be parentless at the moment, but he wasn't a kitten and he was not going to be abandoned. I slid my arm under his knees and carefully lifted him, frowning when I felt how light he was. I turned to take him into his bedroom- and stopped, making a face at the odor coming from that direction. Shaking my head, I turned right around and carried him into the living-room instead, easing him down on the plush sofa. A quick trip down the hall got me a clean pillow and blanket from the unused master bedroom, and I paused on the way back to help Sage get up and walk out the the living-room as well. He declined a chair and sat on the floor beside the sofa, clearing our dropped bookbags out of the way while I tucked the pillow under Rowen's head. Then I pulled off that smelly bathrobe and wrapped him warmly in the clean blanket. "There," I said at last; "much better. So. You stay with him and be here when he wakes up, and I am going to do something about that awful sick room."

"Before you do, a fresh glass of water would be a good idea," Sage mentioned, curling up against the sofa so that he almost resembled the kitten he'd mentioned. Or maybe I just had kittens on my mind. I collected the glass from the hall and went into the kitchen again, this time noticing that although there were a few cups, bowls and spoons lying around, the room in general was very tidy- too tidy. I shook my head again as I refilled the glass, and then, thinking about it, filled another and brought them both out. The one I set on the coffee table and the other I gave to Sage, who gave me a grateful look and drank it in about two breaths. His hand trembled a little as he set the empty glass beside the full one and I suddenly decided room-cleaning could wait a bit. I sat down next to him and gathered him to me so that he leaned against me and not the sofa. "Are you all right, brother-healer?"

"I'm okay. A little tired. A little scared. But okay." Sage paused and sighed. "If we hadn't come today," he murmured. "If we'd waited until Monday..." He shook his head against my collarbone- which couldn't have been too comfortable- and shivered. 

"Well...we did," I responded. "We didn't wait. We were too concerned to wait. So he's going to be fine. We'll make sure he's fine." I ran my hand over his back. "Don't scare yourself thinking about what isn't going to happen."

"Yeah. What did happen is quite enough," he agreed, sounding more like himself, and squeezed my shoulder.

It was odd how that worked, I thought. When I needed guidance or reassurance, he gave it; when he needed it, I gave it. We were a team that way.

"We are, and a good one." Sage sat up and messed up my hair. I just smiled. I was getting used to him hearing my thoughts. 

"But why did it seem like you were getting my permission to use Kourin?"

Sage scratched his head, looking a little perplexed. "I'm not too sure. I guess I'm just too used to asking someone for permission before I act. Besides," he added, smiling, "you are my sensei."

"Ah, well, that's true." I nodded, then got to my feet and looked at Rowen for a moment. There actually seemed to be a little color in his face already, and that made my heart lighter. "So your sensei says, sit and rest- oh, and think of anything special we'll need to get him to eat? I didn't have time to look in the kitchen much, but all I saw was Ramen and cans of stuff, and I don't think we want to feed him that yet."

"I'll make a list," Sage agreed, pulling his backpack over to him. "Why don't you take off your coat?" he suggested as he brought out a notebook.

Surprised- I had forgotten I still had my coat on- I pulled it off and then went down the hall to deal with that stale sick-room.

The very first things I did were to close the door and open the window. Then I got busy. I stripped and re-made the bed, using sheets from the hall closet. I found a laundry-bag and stuffed it with the sheets and the few clothes that were laying around. I picked up all the stuff off the floor, most of which was cough-drop wrappers; took some old dishes out to the kitchen; cleaned up a thermometer; and put away a lot of random stuff that Rowen had probably tried to divert himself with before he got too sick to walk. Most of it was books and music; I found three or four music CDs in among the sheets. He'd even tried to do some homework, if the pen and notebook of kanji scribblings were any indication. It really made me feel bad for him: stuck in his room with nothing much to do, alone and slowly growing sicker... Where were his parents? Why was no one with him? He should not have been left alone- oh, I knew all about that! His parents were alive and well-

Or were they? Just what was all that 'family trouble' anyway?

Well, Rowen wasn't in any shape to tell us about it yet, but perhaps when he woke, he would. In the meantime... I got up from where I'd sat down on the bed and left the room, closing the door behind me. I went to the bathroom and washed my hands very thoroughly, then went out to the living-room. "I have the window open to air it out; he can stay out here for now, right?" I asked softly. Sage nodded.

"I think I've thought of everything," he told me, gesturing at the paper on the coffee table. I picked it up and read it. Apple juice, grape juice. Fresh oranges. Beef and chicken broth. Fresh and frozen vegetables. A bag of frozen shrimp. Rice, of course. Wheat cereal and milk. Below that was a line and I smiled as I recognized several foods that we both favored. The last item wasn't an item exactly; I rolled my eyes as I read 'not too many sugary things'. "You're mean," I observed.

"We have to set a good example, Ryo," my brother said in his most reasonable tone. "Think how he'd feel if he saw you eating chocolate and couldn't have any."

"I wouldn't eat it around him!" I protested, but I knew it was a losing battle. "Well, I am going to get some cookies. He can have some of those, yes?"

"Get the fruity kind."

"Okay, those for him and some chocolate ones for us. Or him if he doesn't like the fruit," I added quickly, before Sage could protest.

"All right then." Sage shook his head in resignation as I pulled on my coat, then pointedly gave me the things I hadn't yet picked up from the table: several yen notes. 

It's a side-effect of not liking money that I rarely check to make sure I have enough before I go to buy something. It's a very good thing I don't have a credit-card.

Without a doubt, that was the heaviest load I have ever carried back from a grocery store. I was grateful for the shortness of the walk, and even more grateful for the elevator. I can't imagine what it would have been like to climb twenty-two flights of stairs with four heavy plastic bags in each hand. Sage must have sensed me coming, for he met me at the door and took several bags from me, then helped me put everything away in the kitchen. We tried our best to be quiet, but plastic bags make that difficult, so when I went back out to the living room, I wasn't too surprised to see Rowen's eyes were open. "Hey," I said softly, kneeling beside the couch as he turned to look at me. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to wake you up."

"S'okay, you didn't," Rowen responded with a weak smile. "I woke up a little before you came in. Was thirsty again."

"Ah." I glanced behind me at the half-empty glass of water, then looked back at Rowen. His face was still almost as pale as the pillow under his head; his eyes were tired and his voice was low. But he was breathing normally, his lips were the proper color, and he was speaking Japanese. Progress. "You're feeling better?"

"I feel a lot better," he agreed, freeing one hand from the blanket and reaching down. I started as Sage settled down beside me and clasped Rowen's hand; I hadn't heard him walk up behind me. "Tired... but just tired, not sick-and-tired." Rowen paused, taking a long, deep breath, then added, "I'm awful glad to see you guys. Thought I was havin' a fever-dream- I'm glad it wasn't a dream."

"We came to bring you your homework, but I don't think you'll be wanting that yet," Sage remarked lightly. Then, more seriously, "In fact, we were pretty worried. The homework was an excuse. We figured your parents couldn't object to that."

Rowen closed his eyes for a moment. "Nothing to worry about," he murmured. "Mom's in Rome. Dad's...back in New York."

"Rome?" For some reason that surprised me. "Well, when will they be back?"

"Yeah, doin' some story about women priests in the Catholic church." Rowen managed a slight shrug, and sighed. "Back..um. What day is it?"

"Saturday," Sage told him.

"Saturday." Rowen opened his eyes again. "I dunno, then. She said- I think she said Friday, but-" he frowned a little. "The phone rang...a few times, but I didn't listen to the messages..." His voice trailed away in a tired sigh.

I looked at Sage, who was frowning. "So maybe she called to say she had to go somewhere else," he said neutrally, and Rowen nodded. "Well, when you're feeling a little better, you can listen to them. I think you should go back to sleep now, though."

"Sounds good. Actually, if there's something to eat, that kinda sounds good too." 

I glanced at Sage, remembering what he'd said about not being able to tell the last time Rowen had eaten. "Okay. You rest, I'll make-" and paused as Sage's thought whispered broth into my mind. "Some soup. Do you want beef soup, or chicken?"

"Oo, a choice." Rowen smiled faintly, his eyes half-closed. "Beef, please."

"Okay." I gave him a little pat, then got up and went into the kitchen. 

It made a nice change, cooking on a stove instead of in a fireplace. I guess I could have used the microwave, but I didn't feel familiar enough with that thing and didn't want to risk maybe blowing it up by accident. There was a lot of soup left in the pot after I poured a cupful for Rowen, so on an impulse, I got down two more cups and divided the rest for Sage and me, figuring it would do for an afternoon snack. Carrying three cups at once was a little awkward, but I managed, and Sage- seeing my hands were full- quickly spread some magazines over the coffee table so I could put them down without scorching the wood. I thanked him and gave him his cup, then looked at Rowen, whose eyes were closed again. "Rowen?" I asked softly, wondering if I ought to be waking him. 

"Mmm? Oh." He opened his eyes and made an effort to sit up on his own, but he was so wobbly that I quickly put my arm across his shoulders and gave him a lift. He sort of drooped against me, so I sat down on the edge of the sofa and gave him his soup, holding him steady as he lifted the cup in shaky hands to sip from it. 

I'll always remember that afternoon: sitting on the sofa next to Rowen, him leaning quietly against me as he slowly drank his soup, the fading evening light from the big window making long shadows across the room. Sage, still curled up on the floor, handed me my own cup and I found the broth tasted as good as it smelled. I remember how quiet it was in the room, and how Rowen smiled at me before he sighed, put his not-quite-empty cup down, and closed his eyes. He asked very softly for a little more water, and once he'd drunk that, drifted off, still leaning on me. I finished my soup and gave the mug back to Sage, eased Rowen back down to the sofa, and slid down to sit beside my brother for a while.

For a long time, every time I had anything beef-flavored, it reminded me of that day, of our anxiety and the relief and serenity that followed, of the intense protectiveness I was feeling. I had not felt that way before; I had felt sympathy for Rowen when he was new and nervous, but he had gained confidence so quickly that it was clear he was generally a self-sufficent person. Besides, he had a family. Protecting him was his parents' job. Only now was I seeing that his parents weren't up to the job and that his confidence was probably more show than substance. Just like Sage's. I was righter than I knew when I said they were alike. 

It was a quiet evening. Sage and I stirred ourselves to get some homework done after a while, using the coffee table as a desk. I cleaned up the soup pan and cups, then remembered to go shut the window in Rowen's room as the last light faded from the sky outside. Around seven, we both decided we were hungry again; I gathered Rowen up and carried him down to his bedroom so the noise wouldn't wake him, then joined Sage in the kitchen. We had a nice vegetable-rice mix with spiced shrimp, and I deliberately had several of the chocolate cookies afterwards, as much for the sweet as for seeing Sage pretend to be disgusted by so much sugar before bed. We turned in around ten-thirty, reclaiming the pillow and blanket from the sofa and sharing the master bed- the biggest bed I had ever seen in my life- and I remember wondering whether it was a specially-made mattress or if huge beds were the custom in America. 

Sage fell asleep very fast and remained that way until about nine in the morning, so I guess that healing took more out of him that he was admitting. I was more restless and got up three or four times to check on Rowen, once helping him to the bathroom and once bringing him some juice and water. As I was heading back to bed the last time, I gave some thought to sleeping on his floor in case he needed anything else, but that big bed was just too comfortable and I really didn't need the bruises. 

The next day.... well... it didn't go so great.

The morning was fine, I guess, even though it was gray and rainy outside. Sage and I got up first and ate; then Rowen woke up and ate the breakfast we brought him. Sage let him get up long enough to take a brief shower and put on something clean, but he fell asleep again just minutes after he got back into bed. Sage said that was a good thing and occupied himself with reading some of the books in Rowen's bookcase, but I was restless. 

"You should go back to Azu," Sage remarked finally, not looking up from the book he was reading. I turned from where I stood at the living-room window to frown at him, not sure whether I should feel hurt or not. I knew he never meant to say anything cruel, but sometimes he didn't think about how things sounded. I rarely called him on it, though, since I did exactly the same thing myself. 

"Why?"

Sage looked up, pushing his hair back from his eyes- it was starting to get a bit long. "You're restless, you need something to do. If you go to Azu, you can check how Kigan-san's doing, let Blaze know why we didn't come home, maybe get some fresh clothes." He gave me his little smile and I relaxed a bit. "Maybe even practice a bit, burn off some of that energy instead of pacing all over."

I stood thinking about it for a moment, the notion quickly growing on me. It would be good to get out and do something; I was a little concerned about the sensei, White Blaze probably was wondering where we were, and we did both need some clean clothes. As for practicing...that wasn't too bad an idea, either. "I see, you're getting tired of seeing me wander all over, so you found a mission for me," I concluded, smiling back. 

"I didn't say that-"

"Close enough." I picked up my jacket from the arm of the sofa where I'd left it yesterday, and pulled it on. "It's a good idea, though. Especially the clothing part."

Sage glanced down at his rumpled white school shirt and black pants, then looked up at me again and nodded. "You can use my white bag, that should hold everything."

"Okay." I started for the door, pausing long enough to press my hand against the back of his shoulder in a silent 'see you later' as I walked behind the sofa. 

"Hi to the cat," my brother requested, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he reached back to touch my hand lightly. 

"Certainly," I agreed, and left, being careful to ease the heavy door shut so that it didn't slam.

The rain was a nuisance- hence my coat; I didn't need it to keep warm, but I do prefer to be dry- but the train station was unusually quiet and I had no trouble getting a seat. That was typical for a Sunday, if not for the rest of the week, and I enjoyed it despite my restlessness. I had some hope that Azu might be drier than Toyama, but of course it wasn't so- just the opposite, actually, Toyama's drizzle was a steady rain in Azu. I scowled a little at the dreary wetness, then shrugged and crossed the platform, heading for the dojo in hopes that my sensei had recovered enough to go back to work. My hopes were accurate: he was in his office, looking pretty miserable but definitely better than the last time I'd seen him. We talked about trivial things for a little while, and then I brought up something I had been wanting to talk to him about since Sage moved in. My brother was quickly reaching the limits of what I could teach him and would need a proper no-daitchi sensei fairly soon. I figured Kigan- who had made some veiled remarks about the quality of some of the students- would be delighted to teach someone of Sage's caliber.

I was wrong.

Not only was I wrong, I was shocked.

And disillusioned. To the extreme.

When you've admired someone for as long as I had admired my sensei, it's ...quite an experience to discover an unexpected, unanticipated, unimagined streak of bigotry in them. Well, maybe bigotry is too strong a word, but maybe it isn't, either. At any rate, we had some very heated words about it and I stormed out of the dojo in a complete rage, his words ringing in my head. 

I will not teach a gaijin. ...No, I will not make an exception. ...I'm not interested in the skill of a gaijin. There are plenty of other trainers who are willing to be so untraditional, but my dojo will be a respected one, and that means a traditional one. ...Teaching gaijin the way of a Japanese sword is not traditional, Sanada. I am trying to build a reputation as a master and I do not need people considering and then turning away because there is a foreigner among my students. Sword-work is an old art, anachronistic; it appeals to traditional- well, they may be close-minded, Sanada, but they are the ones who will pay me, or not. One must offer one's customers the atmosphere they desire, or they will find someone else. I will not have my dojo dismissed as just another of those fakery places whose owners have no respect for what is traditional.

Then you'd better give up any hope of having me as one of your teachers, 'cause you know very well that I'm anything but traditional! had been my reply, and as I stomped up the path to my house, I wondered just how seriously I meant that. I wanted to be a katana instructor. Kigan was my teacher. By rights- by tradition- he had the first call on my skills once I was trained. I owed him, so to speak. But I didn't think I could bring myself to work for someone so close-minded. More immediately, I wasn't too sure I even wanted to be trained by him anymore. I had no way of knowing what sorts of 'nontraditional' things he was not teaching me; and anyway, I didn't want to be accepted where Sage wasn't.

But I did need to know how to fight, and fight well- and so did Sage.

I turned the problem over and over in my mind, not helped by the riot of emotions churning around inside me. I felt bitterly betrayed, wondered if I could ever respect the man again, wondered how many other seemingly 'good' people were really narrow-minded and intolerant. At the same time, I felt guilty to be so angry at him, for Kigan had been a good teacher and had been very kind to me. 

And what in the world was I supposed to tell Sage? 

White Blaze was in the house when I got there, lying as usual on the sofa. He lifted his head when I came in; I flung my coat on the floor, crossed the room, and wrapped my arms around his neck, hiding my face in his thick fur. I felt him licking my arms and then my cheek in consolation, and felt a little bit better. White Blaze, at least, was genuine, unprejudiced. He had accepted Sage from the very first, regardless of anything but Sage himself. 

After a while, I sat up and explained everything to White Blaze: Rowen's illness, our decision to stay with him until he was better, my trip to get some clean clothes, and my confrontation with the sensei. Blaze listened intently, ears flicking and teeth occasionally bared in a soft growl, and when I was done he nuzzled me, butting his forehead against my chest and making me smile in spite of everything. "I love you too," I told him, reaching up to rub his ears. "You're such a good friend- and a great listener." I sighed, leaned against him, and wondered why life had to get so blasted complicated, confusing, and plain old ugly. 

I sat there for quite a while, thinking angry and depressed thoughts, not hearing the rain on the roof and unaware of how much time was passing. It was only when my foot fell asleep and I got up to shake it awake again, stretching the stiffness out of my body, that the sound of a downpour registered. "How appropriate," I observed grimly, and went to Sage's bedroom to find his white bag and pick out a few clothes for him. After that I did some half-hearted practicing to pass the time, using the fireplace poker since my practice sword was in the dojo. Oddly, it calmed me down- maybe because I invented a few variations right on the spot. White Blaze watched from the sofa, his chin on his forepaws, and gave one of his amused sneezes when I noticed the soot on my hand and complained about it. I threatened to rub my dirty hands on his coat and nearly got knocked down as he sprang off the sofa and charged past me, whapping me with his tail as he went by. 

Trying to catch a tiger in close quarters while dodging around furniture is a challenge that is almost guaranteed to cheer one up. It worked for me, anyway, despite getting a couple bruises when I wasn't quite agile enough to avoid the furniture. Or the feline. Or the floor, either. I did manage to rub one sooty hand against Blaze's fur, but I ended up getting squashed when he sat on me, so I think it was a tie.

After I persuaded Blaze to get off me- that took a while- I did some general cleaning up, then gave him a good brushing, then sat and tried to read a book. It didn't work too well and I was debating whether to give up and get drenched again or not when the rain finally faded down to drizzly mist. I immediately took advantage of it, grabbing my jacket and Sage's bag, giving Blaze a squeeze, and heading back to the station at a trot. Halfway there my stomach started to growl- splendid timing, as usual.

Of course I hadn't thought to bring any money so I could buy lunch on the train. Just how sensible do you think I am? Nowhere near as much as I should be, obviously.

I got back to Rowen's apartment- his parents' apartment- around three-thirty, starving and irritable. Sage kindly alleviated both conditions by taking the bag of clothes, thanking me, and directing me straight towards what he'd fixed himself and Rowen for lunch: beef stew, plus some of the leftover vegetable-rice. It tasted different- better- and Sage told me Rowen had made a few suggestions as to spices. "He's been awake for a few hours," he answered in reply to my question. "His energy is starting to come back. I let him work on some math homework, since he was a little bored and math is so simple for him. He had two small helpings of stew around two o'clock, and it seems to be agreeing with him." 

"Sounds good. I gave White Blaze your regards and I did practice a little. The poker makes a decent saber, really," I remarked, and Sage laughed softly. "I brought us both a clean uniform and a not-school outfit," I concluded.

"I think I'll go make use of one of them, then. You can go in and see him if you want, when you're done, he's still awake." And my brother disappeared, leaving me to eat alone... until Rowen wandered in, wearing a gray sweatsuit and slippers, about thirty seconds later. 

"I thought I heard you come in," he said in greeting, getting a glass of juice and joining me at the counter. "You look irritated."

I blinked. "Yeah, kind of. I, ah, forgot to take any lunch, or anything to buy lunch with... and there were some other problems on the way, too. My sword-trainer, I stopped in to see him, and he kinda...made me mad." I scraped out the last spoonful from the bowl and got up to rinse it, debating whether to explain more or not-

And the phone rang. Well, 'rang'- not exactly. Went off, you might say, with some crazy percussion beat. I turned a complete circle, searching for the source of the noise, as Rowen got up with a sigh and took the receiver off the wall. "Hello? Yeah.."

That was all he said, just those two words, and then stood leaning against the wall, his eyes half-closed. After a moment I pulled his stool over and he sat down, giving me a grateful look. He leaned back against the wall; I stood beside him and watched the microwave clock advance from 3:55 to 3:56, and then 3:57 in silence. It seemed whoever was on the other end of the phone had a lot to say. At 3:59, Sage came into the kitchen- now wearing the black jeans and green shirt I'd brought- gave Rowen a quizzical look, and glanced at me. I shrugged as Rowen sighed. "Yes," he said in a low voice. Then: "No. I don't know. No... I haven't. Because I didn't go to school all week. ...Mom! I wasn't skipping, I was sick."

Sage and I traded a glance at that, and we both moved a little closer to Rowen.

"Yes. I dunno, bronchitis or pneumonia, some infection like that- I couldn't get outta bed..." Rowen sighed again and tilted his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "No, haven't seen him since that night. Yeah, alone." He reached over without opening his eyes and I stepped even closer, catching his hand in mine. "It was lucky for me my friends at school got kinda worried and dropped in. Yes..."

Silence again. Sage's hand rested on Rowen's shoulder, and my brother's expression was one of concern. I was getting concerned, too- Rowen was awful pale again all of a sudden. 

"So you're not-" Rowen broke off, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "I see," he said softly. "Tell me, Mom, would you have bothered to come home if I'd been hospitalized? Would you come to my funeral if I died?" And as I stared in shock, he took the phone from his ear and, one-handed, pressed the hang-up button. The phone dropped to his lap and he closed his eyes again even as his free hand sought Sage's. "My mother," he murmured, "thanks you both for your assistance and assures me she'll be home by Thursday. Unless, of course, something more important comes up." The bitter spite in his voice jarred me, but it was what he was saying that made my mouth fall open. How could a mother fail to come home the instant she knew her son had been ill?

"She is not coming home?" Sage asked in a dire voice, and I realized he was, if anything, even angrier than I was. Of course. He knew better than I did how dangerously sick our friend had been, how fragile he still was...

Rowen shook his head, biting his lip. "She went from Rome to Venice and now she's going to Greece...getting information, she said, this should wrap it up. Then she can come home."

"And in the meantime, you can just take care of yourself, hm?" Sage's eyes were like violet ice. 

"It seems there's no point to her making the trip when I'm already getting better- and when someone's already taking care of me," Rowen sighed.

"If we weren't here..." I murmured, feeling guilty. Surely if Rowen was still alone, uncared for- surely then she'd come home to him! 

Rowen snorted. "If you weren't here, she'd call my father and order him to come look after me, they'd get into a tremendous fight about it, and there I'd be, alone yet. Or dead. Probably dead. Probably wouldn't bother her, though- except she'd have to have the place fumigated, she wouldn't like that..." His voice trailed off with a little gasp and I crouched beside the stool and put my arms around him. 

"I think someone needs to rest," Sage murmured, his eyes very soft as he looked down at us. My mother- his thought floated to me as I nodded and gathered Rowen up.

Your mother?

Sage looked at me. My mother may not have wanted me, but at least she did her duty.

I nodded again and carried Rowen down the hall, placing him gently on the bed and easing him back against the pillow. He sighed again and let go of me, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. "They always do exactly what they want to do," he observed bleakly. "And taking care of me has never been high on their to-do lists. Even as an afterthought, I'm an annoyance to them. I used to think I was selfish to want 'em to spend more time thinking of me and less time indulging themselves, but now..."

"That's not selfish," Sage said firmly, sitting down on the other side of the bed and pulling the covers up. Rowen looked over at him wearily. "That's part of being a parent- being responsible for the life you start. It means you stop thinking of yourself all the time and think of your child first, and if you're not up to doing that, you have no business having any children. My own parents weren't too happy to have me, but they still knew they were responsible for me. Who else, if not them?"

I agreed softly, thinking of my father. His responsibility had been to be sure my grandparents and I were comfortable, and he'd done it, working to earn money for us and coming home to a place that hurt him to make sure we were all fine... "Rowen," I said a little awkwardly, looking at him, "I know we can't take the place of your parents, but we are your friends and we will help you, as much as we can. You won't have to be alone anymore."

Gray eyes looked into mine for a long moment, then closed. "Dad was gettin' the treatment- you know, the gaijin thing?- at work. So he decided we were gonna move back to New York," he said conversationally. "But Mom decided she wasn't going anywhere. So they fought about it, stubborn-heads, and couldn't agree. So they quit talking about that, but they argued about everything else because they were so furious at each other for being 'stubborn and selfish'. Every single thing that happened in this place was ammunition for one of 'em- like, Mom turning on the stereo was obviously a deliberate attempt to distract Dad from his research... Dad forgetting to put his dishes away was obviously a sign of what a chauvanist pig he was." Rowen paused. "Meaning, that he saw Mom as his inferior, not his equal; clearly she was supposed to clean up after him like a good little slave."

"Oh," Sage muttered, and I echoed him. "I see why you were so unhappy, Rowen. Hearing that every day..."

"Yeah." Rowen took a deep breath. "So I got pretty tired of it and I went to 'em- right as I was getting sick- and told 'em they needed to look at things sensibly. They couldn't agree, they couldn't stop fighting, the neighbors were griping about the noise...since they couldn't compromise and wouldn't back down, they needed to agree to disagree, which meant ending their marriage."

I felt my eyes widen. Sage looked up and blinked at me, wondering, as I was, if he'd heard that right. "You suggested they divorce," I said carefully, to make sure.

"Yeah. Told 'em they might as well end it while there was still something good left of it. The idea," he explained, "was to give 'em such an outrageously extreme solution that they'd both realize what numbskulls they were being and start acting rationally again. Only I was the numbskull, 'cause it didn't dawn on me that they might- actually- agree!" He took a shaking breath; Sage gave me an 'oh my' sort of look and reached out to smooth Rowen's hair. 

"Oh..." I said in a whisper. "It...backfired."

"It did that," Rowen agreed, also whispering. "Seems to me they must've been playin' with the idea themselves to agree with it so fast- I mean, I barely got the words out and they were both, 'oh, what an excellent solution, why didn't we think of it sooner'- but still-! And now Dad's in New York, and he's not coming back...and he wouldn't take me with him, wouldn't even consider it- I'd just get in his way." He sucked in a breath and added, in a strange sort of laugh, "I thought Mom would complain that she got the worst of the deal, getting custody of me, but I guess she doesn't plan to let a minor detail like that crimp her style." His eyes opened and he looked up at me. "So now I'm telling you," he said gravely, "that when you say you can't replace my parents, Ryo, you got it totally backward. My parents can't possibly replace you two- you've been everything for me that they haven't, and won't ever be." His gaze shifted from me to Sage as he spoke.

"Rowen-" I began, pressing my hand against his arm, unsure how else to express my feeling at his words. 

"Wait," he murmured. "There's- there's something else I have to tell you...and you're not gonna like it. You're gonna be mad at me." And as I blinked, taken aback, he turned to Sage. "There's a box in the closet, on the top shelf. Could you get it for me?"

Sage looked as puzzled as I felt, but he obediently got up, went over to the closet, opened the door, and went up on his toes to get down the medium-sized cardboard box. He set it down near the foot of the bed as Rowen sat up; Rowen reached for it and pulled at the closed flaps. I noticed that his hands weren't steady, and once he had it open, he didn't immediately reach into it. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then pushed one hand past the cardboard flap and groped about before withdrawing his clenched fist. I was wondering, with a sort of irritated puzzlement, what the big mystery was about when Rowen turned his hand palm-up and loosed his visibly-shaking fingers from what he held.

A glass orb with a deep-blue kanji- inochi- at its heart. 

An armor orb.

Inochi. Inochi, life, the trait associated with tenkuu, heavens. Then- Rowen was Strata.

We'd found the third armor bearer! Or, well, maybe we hadn't exactly really 'found' him; more like he found us. Since we'd told him all about the Dynasty before, he- 

Hold it. ...We told him about the Dynasty weeks ago and he got all freaked out and avoided us! Why didn't he say anything, tell us that he was one of us? He knew we were looking for the others, we told him that too! Well, maybe he had a good reason.Be fair; ask him, I told myself, and looked at him seriously, but before I could say anything, Sage spoke. 

"So you're Tenkuu."

"I dunno what tenkuu is, but I know what this means," Rowen answered in a low voice. "It- means I'm one of you, I'm supposed to help you fight against that evil- the Dynasty- that you told me about."

"Tenkuu is-" How did you explain 'heavens' to someone? "It means the atmosphere, air, far up in the sky," I offered, keeping my voice calm. You're going to be mad at me, he'd said, and his hands were shaking... "When did you get this?"

Rowen took a deep breath and said tightly, "In New York. In November- not last November, the one before." 

I turned away from him, unable to look at him with such anger pouring through me. Two years, two years he'd had it and he could have mentioned it any time in the past six months, but even after we'd TOLD him, he still hadn't said anything! That little- traitor! 

"So long?" Sage sounded more surprised than angry. "Yet you didn't know anything about the Dynasty?"

"I was in America," Rowen reminded him tiredly. "I tried- I asked people- but all anyone ever said was it's a good-luck charm..."

"Until we told you differently!" I snapped, and stood up from the bed. "You knew we were looking for the Ronin, and you knew you're one- were you planning to let us in on your little secret, or were you going to just let us deal with everything by ourselves?" I didn't wait for an answer; I turned my back and walked out of the bedroom, caught between raging anger and sick hurt at this second betrayal. How could he? 

You should have expected it, I told myself bitterly. He didn't even tell anyone he spoke and understood Japanese until he had to... never told us he was twelve, not thirteen.. he keeps his secrets!

It didn't make me feel any better.