My first thought, when I brought the cardboard box from Rowen's closet to his bed, was that there couldn't be much in it. It was very light.

Later I found out why he had kept such a small item in such a large box, but at the time, the sudden revelation of the Strata orb- his orb- was enough to drive such trivial thoughts right out of my head. I stood beside the bed, staring at the orb in Rowen's shaking hand in amazement that turned to relieved pleasure: we had found another Ronin! Now there were only two more to locate. I felt as though we'd just won a great victory.

So when Ryo turned to Rowen with harsh words, speaking in a cold tone that I couldn't remember hearing from him before and then walking out of the room in disgust, I was severely taken aback. 

But only until the implications sank in.

Ryo was right. Why hadn't Rowen told us sooner that he was one of us? How could he have let us search and wonder and worry like that, knowing all the time that he could- and should- level with us? And why had he kept his distance from us once he knew who we really were? Did he think we were unworthy or something? Pleasure evaporated, victorious feeling fled, I turned with a frown to shoot my own accusing questions at him- but paused as I took in his expression. The look on his face as he stared at the bedroom door was hard to define, but it was plain that he was deeply affected: he was very pale, his eyes were wide, and he was biting so fiercely on his lower lip that I expected to see blood at any second. 

"I-" his voice was so low I could scarcely hear him, even from just a foot or so away. "I...was scared..."

All of a sudden, I wasn't so angry anymore. I sat back down on the bed- a bit dizzy from the rapid succession of emotions and only now realizing I had stood up at all- and laid my hand on his shoulder. Rowen's eyes slowly turned to me and the orb fell from his hand to thump softly against the blanket. "I was scared," he repeated in a whisper, and I nodded, squeezing gently. I understood that too well; I had often felt fear when I thought of the armor, and it wasn't just the knowledge of having to fight something dark and evil and powerful that made my insides twist into a knot. There was so much we didn't know about this battle-to-come- the when, where, how, who, what- the unknown really is the worst fear of all. 

"I understand," I told him kindly. "It's a frightening thing to think about-"

"I hate this thing," he went on over my words, and I stopped, blinking at him in surprise. "I've hated it for a long time, Sage- it scares the hell out of me..." 

I gazed at him blankly, wondering how anyone could hate their own armor. "Why?" I asked when he didn't go on. "What happened?" I reached out to touch the orb with one finger and it glowed a subdued shade of deep blue, acknowledging me the same way Ryo's orb had done- only a lot less visibly. Rowen grimaced and looked away, then leaned back against the headboard with a sigh.

"A lot of shit," he responded wearily. I lifted my hand from the orb and regarded my friend with what I hoped was an encouragingly curious expression. It seemed to work; Rowen took another deep breath, glanced at the now-dark armor-ball for a moment, then began to explain, his voice low and dispirited. 

It was a long story; it took almost an hour before he concluded and lay back with his eyes closed. I sat silent for a few minutes, noting somewhere in the back of my mind that even worn out from illness, stress and dismay, Rowen's thought process was remarkably organized and logical. And his reasoning couldn't be faulted. His dislike for the yoroi was more than understandable, and the root of his silence on the matter was much more complicated than I had expected. But it always is that way, isn't it? People are never so simple as one imagines them, and Touma is one who is more complex than most.

"I understand, and I'm glad you told me," I said at last, and stood to cover my exhausted friend with his blanket. "Try to rest some more. I'm going to talk to Ryo," I added, placing the orb back in its box. A minute or two later, I slipped quietly out of the bedroom, not really looking forward to the coming conversation; I knew by the time I was done, my brother was going to be feeling pretty bad. But it was necessary that he know, and Rowen was far too stressed and fatigued to go over it all again. 

Ryo was standing near the big window, looking out over the city, his brow furrowed. He didn't turn as I came into the living room, and there was the slightest hint of accusation in his voice when he said quietly, "You were in there for a while." 

I didn't respond right away, moving to sit down on the sofa and debating the best way to proceed. "Yes," I agreed after a moment. "I was listening." I turned so the arm of the sofa was at my back and studied Ryo's frowning profile for another moment. 

"Listening," Ryo snorted. "To what, excuses? Or did he try to apologize?"

"Neither. He merely explained," I returned calmly. "People have reasons for what they do, you know, and Rowen has had a very difficult time with the Strata orb. To begin with, it wasn't given to him; he purchased it in a store." I knew that would get Ryo's attention right away. Our orbs had been given to us; purchasing one seemed an impossibility, and it had raised a serious doubt in my mind as to whether Rowen was actually supposed to have the thing or not. I was right; Ryo turned quickly and gave me an almost alarmed look.

"He bought it?"

"In an antique store, from an older man in a strange hat- and he recalls that there was an unusual staff leaning against the wall." That had been one of the few questions I'd asked Rowen: this 'older man' who sold you the orb, what did he look like?

"From the Ancient One, then." Ryo scratched his head. "Strange, though."

I nodded. "It sounds like him, but if it was, he told Rowen even less about what to expect than he did us."

"Is that actually possible?" Ryo asked ruefully.

"All Rowen was told was that the character was inochi and that the blue represented the sky." I shrugged. Being told that I faced a dark path and that I needed to search for 'trust, virtue, justice and life' hadn't been entirely helpful, but at least I'd had something to guide me, information that helped me recognize Ryo when I found him. And Ryo might be as mystified as I at the cryptic direction to 'master the armor', but at least that meant it could be mastered! 

Ryo blinked. "Oh," he said, and frowned again. "Maybe it wasn't the Ancient...or- maybe there were other people around?"

"That could be," I agreed. "Either way, Rowen had no idea there was anything special about the orb until it started 'acting weird'. He dismissed it as coincidence or imagination until it started to glow; then he went back to the shop to ask some questions. But the Ancient, if it was him, was gone and the usual shopkeeper couldn't help him. Admired his good-luck charm, though," I added dryly. "Rowen says he asked a number of people about it and they all said the same thing: it was a nice and well-made little charm, and he'd gotten an average price for it. He tried to do research on his own- in fact, he spent most of the summer trying to find information on it- but of course it came to nothing."

Ryo frowned and turned back to the window. "Well, that's true, I guess it's not very easy to look up 'glowing orb' in the library," he admitted. "I remember when I was trying to do research..."

"Especially in America, I doubt anyone there knows the Ronin legend." Which was a subtle reminder that not too many in Japan knew it, either; we'd had enough trouble enough finding three or four books that even mentioned it.

Ryo nodded grudgingly. "Even here, not many people would take such a thing seriously. But-"

"But he didn't need to do much research to decide that it wasn't...natural," I overrode him. "The glow with no visible power source rather gave that away, and it made him uneasy. But when it started affecting him directly, he became frightened and put it away."

"Affecting him?"

"He said it seemed to help reduce his fever when he had the flu, and afterwards, while he was recovering, it seemed to increase his strength-" 

"And that scared him?" Ryo shook his head and pushed his hand through his bangs. I needed to take a scissors to those again...

"It scared him because he didn't know what else it might do to him. He had no control over it. And he was afraid of who, or what, might come looking for it," I explained, leaning against the sofa-back. "He says there's always a price to that kind of thing- I think he was half-afraid it would steal his soul."

My brother grunted, tilting his head and shifting his weight, and I saw that his mood was softening. Good.

"But what frightened him enough to put it away was when it put the armor on him without warning. Only the first layer, the under-gear, but you and I know how disturbing that would have been." I paused again, remembering how shocked and- yes- scared I'd been when Ryo's rekka orb had done something very similar to him. Odd that Rowen's orb hadn't put the armor on him when I touched it, the way Ryo's orb had done to him- but maybe Rowen was too weak, or his dislike of the orb was too strong. Probably both...

"True," Ryo repeated, less grudgingly. "That was very startling."

"For us, it was startling," I said pointedly; "for him it was terrifying. You at least knew there was armor involved, and I knew you... Rowen said he went outside in a big storm, the remains of a hurricane, to pick up some trash cans the wind had knocked over, absent-mindedly taking the Strata with him-"

"And the wind did it, hm?" Ryo lifted his arm, leaning against the glass, then rested his forehead on the back of his wrist. "Yeah, I- guess that would be pretty scary."

I nodded, relaxing a little and enjoying a stray ray of sunlight that suddenly shone across the back of the sofa from the window. "That was 'more than enough', in his words; he put it away and tried to forget about it. Not long after that, his parents decided to move here. Rowen packed up a number of boxes and they were shipped over during the autumn. Then, when he left New York, he left the orb behind."

Ryo turned completely around, his eyes wide. "Wait, what? He left it behind?!" 

"He didn't want it," I replied; "and he figured that if anything or anyone was looking for it, they'd tune in on it somehow, be drawn to it. As he saw it, it was a good way to get out of the line of fire."

Ryo stared for a moment, his eyes wide and his shoulders hunching in a shiver. "I...guess," he said slowly, "but, man! You don't just leave an armor orb lying around like that- what if the Dynasty had found it!"

"Well, he didn't know the importance of it," I pointed out, though the thought gave me a shudder as well. "To him it was just something that scared him, had done unnatural things to him- something he'd be glad to get away from. But obviously that didn't work."

Ryo's eyebrows went up; he looked at the door leading to the hallway, and back at me. "Yyyeah...how'd he get it back?"

"It was the day he got here," I explained. "He said he was opening up the boxes that had been shipped over- he opened a box full of books and was putting them on the shelves, and the orb was in the box." I stifled another shiver. Clearly, once you were chosen, you didn't get out of your duty too easily.

"It...followed him?" 

"It followed him, and somehow it got itself into a box that had been sealed for, oh, six or eight weeks," I replied, deliberately casual, and Ryo gave a little twitch.

"Okay, yes, that would scare me too, if I didn't know a few things about it. Even knowing..." He frowned and crossed his arms on his chest, brooding. The light outside was turning red, outlining him in the glow and casting his long shadow over the room. "But Sage, he could have told us!" he burst out suddenly. "We would've helped him- hell, we're about the only ones who could give him the information he was looking for, especially since he can hardly read Japanese! Why wouldn't he take advantage of that? And why, when we did tell him, explain to him, did he basically ignore the whole business?" Ryo glared at the carpet. "And don't tell me he was scared- he may've been scared of the armor, but he wasn't scared of us- just detached. If he'd been scared, he would've stopped hanging out with us at all!"

"You're right, there's a different reason for why he did that," I replied slowly. I wanted to get this just right, and it was a complicated piece of reasoning. "Ryo... the one thing Rowen's always wanted is to be ordinary, normal. He wants it because he's never had it. He's tried, as much as he can-" I paused at the dubious glower Ryo was giving me. "Have you looked at his books?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah, once. But they were all English, and they looked pretty boring."

I nodded. "I was looking at them yesterday, and I noticed something. Many of them are university-level textbooks, and there are comments written in some of the margins, all in the same handwriting." I paused, then added softly, "I've become very familiar with Rowen's handwriting since I started tutoring him in kanji..."

"So he writes in his books, what does-?" Ryo paused, frowned, then gave a little double-take. "University?"

I nodded. 

"But-" 

"I admit, I didn't understand most of it, since it was in very technical English," I told him, "but I understood enough to see that Rowen was testing out the theories he read. He pulled them all apart, stating what would work, what was uncertain, and what hadn't been taken into account. For a twelve-year-old to read and understand those things is amazing enough, but to have that same twelve-year-old find all the things the professors left out... and Ryo, remember, those books are ones he brought with him from New York. They could be several years old."

Ryo stared at me, almost round-eyed. "I...don't think amazing is the right word," he murmured after a moment. 

"Exactly. He doesn't know what his IQ is. he's never been tested. But I'd guess it's higher than yours and mine put together- and neither of us are what you'd call dull."

"Man." Ryo turned his back to the window and hoisted himself up on the sill. "And- so- but why is being a genius a bad thing?"

"Because 'amazing' doesn't cover it?" I suggested, smiling a little. "Because it's not normal," I added more seriously as Ryo looked irritated. "People don't treat him like a person, they treat him like a walking computer- to use his own words. And some of them are afraid of him, and some call him a freak... so he tries to hide it." I frowned, thinking about that for a moment as Ryo's irritation faded. "It must be a fine line, trying to be close enough to people to have some friends, but not letting his friends get so close that they find out and get scared off by his intelligence. I think he's given up on that, and just isolates himself so he won't have to walk that line."

"You may be right," Ryo agreed softly, rubbing his temple. "He hasn't made any real efforts to be friendly with our class. I thought maybe it was because of the insults, but..."

"It could be both." I laid my arm across the back of the sofa and propped my chin in my hand. "He said he didn't have much luck trying to fit in while he lived in New York. His classmates often came to him for help with tests and things, but shunned him the rest of the time. And now, here, as a foreigner, he's even more isolated. It's no wonder he wants so much to go home. But now, even if he could, his parents..."

"The divorce," Ryo murmured, sighing, and leaned back against the window.

"That, but they never did give him the 'normal' life, the 'ordinary' family he wanted so badly." I paused, trying to find just the right words. "He always hoped that they'd change- spend more time with him, take him seriously, make him feel like he was valued and wanted. Even with a divorce, that might have happened- but now he says he knows it never will. They're going to continue putting themselves first and thinking of him second, or third- or not at all. His father just looked amused and turned away when Rowen asked to go home with him; his mother did similarly when he asked if she would come home a little while ago, just laughed and said that was impossible, the story she was after wasn't finished." I paused again as Ryo closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "You were proud of me, when I faced that," I added very gently.

"When- what?" Ryo's eyes flashed open again. 

"I knew perfectly well the General would never be kind to me, never accept me. But I hoped. I hoped like nothing else, and I tried every way I knew how to win his approval," I reminded him, getting up from the couch and going over to the window. "I finally had to give up, to admit it wasn't going to happen...to pin my hope on something, someone, else. And when I did, you were so proud of me. You said you knew how hard it was to let go of something like that." Ryo's eyes were stricken as he gazed at me, and I gently brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead as I nodded down the hall. "He just let go of his own hopes and put himself in our hands. He's got nothing else, now."

Blue eyes squeezed tightly shut again; Ryo's head drooped and I stepped closer to put my arm around him, knowing- almost feeling- the shock of guilt-grief-blame-compassion that ran through him. I slid my fingers through his hair in a soothing motion and felt his forehead rest on my shoulder for a moment. "Is- is he- still awake?" 

"He was when I left the room, niichan," I replied, and decided on the instant to keep silent about what Rowen had said right before I left the room. Ryo understood Rowen's reasons now and felt bad about his hasty judgment; he didn't need any more guilt, and especially not from me. He might start to think I was angry or disgusted with him, contemptuous of his behavior- and I wasn't. But I knew it was going to be a while before those piteous words faded from my memory...

He hates me now, doesn't he?

He's angry, Rowen, but he doesn't hate you. And he won't be angry once I talk to him. 

He's right to be mad...you should be mad, too. It's not the first time, and it's not a small matter.

I'm not mad. You had reasons, good reasons, and he should have let you tell them instead of judging you. Now, lie down...there. Try to rest, Rowen. It'll be all right.

With a suddeness I wasn't expecting, Ryo straightened up, slid off the windowsill, and hurried past me. I blinked, caught off guard, then turned to see him disappear down the hall. In doing so, I became aware of how dark the room had grown; the sun had all but set while we'd been talking. I went to the corner of the room and turned on the tall lamp there, glad for the sudden brightness, then turned and walked hesitantly to the doorway that led into the hall, wondering if I should follow or not. Curiosity got the better of me- it tends to do that- and I continued down the hall to Rowen's room, flipping on the hall light as I went. 

"-Sorry," I heard Ryo's voice saying softly as I paused just outside the room. The far half of the room was in shadows, but the light from the hallway shone on Rowen- lying on his back in the bed, his eyes reddened- and Ryo, kneeling beside the bed with one hand on Rowen's and the other lying on the blanket. I wasn't sure either of them had noticed the light go on; they were gazing at each other with the sort of intensity that makes everything else go unnoticed. 

"I'm so sorry, Rowen. I should have known better, should have asked what your reasons were- not just assumed they weren't good ones."

"I should've told you-" Rowen's whisper was hardly audible, but even so his voice shook. 

"Shhh." Ryo lifted his hand and tucked the covers closer, ending with an almost shy pat on Rowen's pale cheek. "Now you have. Now you don't have to keep it all to yourself and feel it eating at you. We'll help you learn to control the Strata orb."

"What will it...do to me? There's always a price-"

"The Ancient One never said anything about a price," Ryo mused. "He just said we have to 'master' it, and to be ready to fight when the evil comes. I guess," he added slowly, "the price is uncertainty and waiting and trying to be patient...and occasionally getting creeped out when it does something unexpected."

And knowing we had the fate of the world in our teenaged hands, but I decided not to mention that. Not then.

"Yeah, like covering you up in metal without warning," Rowen grumbled, sounding more like himself.

"It's done that to me a twice now," Ryo agreed ruefully. "I guess that's one reason why we have to master it, so it doesn't do that in public."

"Scared you too?" Rowen murmured, and let out a long sigh. 

"Well, the first time it was mainly, what the hell is this? The second time, it was more like, damn it, you're not supposed to DO that!" Ryo explained, and Rowen smiled weakly. "Tell you more about that later, though; right now, I think you could use some sleep." 

"Yeah, okay." Rowen yawned. "Thank you, Ryo. An' thank Sage..." 

I smiled and waited the minute or two it took for Ryo to decide Rowen was asleep and get up. He recoiled when he saw me in the doorway, then led the way back to the living room and sat down on the sofa. "You heard?"

"Enough. He's welcome," I answered, and Ryo smiled wearily at me. Then his expression changed and he slumped back against the sofa. 

"You can tell him when he wakes up." He sighed and gave me a sidelong look. "And thanks from me, too, brother. I really was a jerk to pounce on him like that, but Kigan got me all upset with his-" He cut himself off, then began again. "I stopped in the dojo to see the sensei, like you suggested. He was there, he's gotten better...but we had some...words, and he really made me furious. I never thought he could be so damned unreasonable, and it's-" he shook his head, his fingers tight on the cushion beneath him. "It feels like he betrayed me, like I've admired something that looks like gold, but when you get closer you see it's all just- just gold-colored paint hiding tin. I guess I was ready to jump on something, or someone, and Rowen just happened to set me off."

I didn't answer right away, wondering just what had happened with the swordmaster and why Ryo didn't seem to want to tell me about it. Maybe he didn't want to get angry all over again. "It did sort of feel like Rowen didn't trust us, or didn't think we were...I don't know, not good enough for him. I'm glad that wasn't it," I agreed, answering the last part of his comment instead of the first, and leaned over to tousle his hair. "When we get home, I'm going to find the scissors." 

"Okay. Yeeahh, it's getting out of hand," Ryo agreed, pushing his bangs back again. "How long do you think it'll be before Rowen is ready to be on his own again?"

I shrugged. "As long as it is."

"That's so helpful, Sage."

"I know. I'm hungry," I added, changing the subject. "And you didn't eat a lot when you got back- why don't we decide what to have for dinner?"

"Something simple," my brother remarked wryly as I got up from the sofa. I took his outstretched hand, pulled him to his feet, and draped my arm across his shoulder as we walked to the kitchen together.

Apart from the fact that it rained almost constantly for six days, the next week wasn't a bad one at all. We did start out with a small debate on Monday morning- that is, Ryo and I debated, quietly, while Rowen slept. The point under discussion was whether just one of us should skip school to stay home with him, or both; and if just one, which one of us it should be. We reached an agreement in time for Ryo to go dashing off, grumbling a bit as he went and leaving me to reflect that it was a good thing Hanai was so close to the apartment building. 

On Tuesday, as per our agreement, I went to school and Ryo stayed with Rowen. I admit I was a bit nervous about that. Rowen was recovering well, but Ryo was not a healer, and I found that I wanted to keep an eye on my 'patient'. It was difficult to resist the urge to slip out of school and return to the apartment, but I concentrated on my classes and waited for the day to end. Several unexpected tests helped distract me- very well, in fact- but my solo lunch was depressing and the hour in the library alone was absolutely maddening. That clock simply would not move. But finally I was free to go and hurried back to the apartment- and felt a bit foolish for all my worrying when I got there. Rowen was fine: awake, alert, with good color and improved energy (and, Ryo told me, possessed of an appetite that would put an elephant to shame). I was pleased and managed not to fuss about whether he was tiring himself out too much, for which I was rewarded when Rowen voluntarily decided to have a small (four-hour) nap before dinner...which was a bit late as a result.

On Wednesday Ryo and I both went to school, since it was plain that Rowen would be fine by himself for several hours. Or so we kept telling ourselves as we went through the day. It was good to have Ryo's company at lunch and in the library, but the clock still moved far too slowly for my tastes and we both walked faster than normal on the way back to the apartment. We found Rowen asleep on the couch, an empty plate and cup on the table beside it, books scattered over his blanket-covered legs and on the floor. His face was a bit flushed, but he had no fever and was breathing normally; it was Ryo who noticed his hair was damp and concluded he'd probably had a hot bath that had made him sleepy. I agreed when I noticed he was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt instead of the sweat-suit he'd been in for the past few days. I could hardly blame him for wanting to clean up and get dressed, but I wished he could have waited until we got back. Still, maybe that wasn't realistic of me; seven hours was a long time to wait, and it hadn't done him any harm.

I think that was when the healer in me began to retreat, but it still wasn't until Friday that I decided Rowen was fully recovered and didn't need caretakers any longer. I probably could have said it Thursday- that was when he began to get restless- but I figured we might as well see the week through. Cautious was better than hasty, and lung infections- even ones healed mystically- are nothing to be careless about. 

Not that you could have told, seeing him in school on Friday, that Rowen had been ill at all. He had put on enough weight to look like something more than a scarecrow, gained his energy back and lost his sickly pallor. (It had a lot to do with the fact that he started carrying the inochi orb around with him and often opened his bedroom window, though he didn't tell either of us this for several weeks...the little sneak. There was an uproar over that, mostly mine at his idiocy, until he reminded me that fresh air could only help him; it certainly couldn't harm him. I sulked about that for a while, but he was right. ...Well, yes, that was why I sulked: he was right.) He caught up with his missed assignments in an almost frighteningly short time, admitting in reply to my questions that only the History and Japanese provided him with anything resembling a challenge. The rest was stuff he had taught himself years ago... though he never did quite say how many years. 

I should probably add here that Ryo and I both quietly wondered what might happen when Rowen's mother came home on Thursday, but that turned out to be unnecessary speculation, as Thursday and then Friday passed without her appearence. Rowen, despite his anger at her, was rather worried when she didn't show up and his concern and uncertainty had some influence on our decision to remain Thursday night. The woman did finally call on Friday morning- while we were in school- saying she'd be home Saturday and had been delayed by bad weather and cancelled flights, but I found it hard to believe that she hadn't had a chance to phone him before then. It was obviously not Rowen's imagination that he didn't rank very high on his parents' list of priorities. 

At any rate, on Friday afternoon, Ryo and I returned to Rowen's apartment, gathered the things we'd gradually accumulated there over the week (we'd made two more trips to Azu and as a result had to borrow the suitcase again; it would have been sensible to take some of our dirty clothes home each time we made a trip, but neither of us had thought of that) and got ready to leave for Azu. It made me strangely sad to leave, and that was not because the apartment had certain conveniences that home didn't; it also had certain inconveniences, and I couldn't help feeling uneasy at being so near the General's residence again. It just didn't seem right to leave Rowen behind, alone in that luxurious yet empty apartment complex. True, his mother was returning soon, but the thought was one he seemed more resigned to than pleased about, and of course there was no guessing how long she would stick around. He smiled as we left, but his eyes were wistful and his parting hug was...quite strong. 

Ryo felt more or less the way I did about leaving, so our first night back in Azu was an active but subdued one. That is, there was plenty to do- unpacking our clothes and schoolbooks, cleaning up a week's worth of dust, scrubbing some very unpleasant dishes that should have been washed six days ago but hadn't, and other, similar things- but neither of us said much as we worked. It wasn't until much later, after we'd eaten and taken our usual places near the fireplace that Ryo said what I was thinking. "Doesn't seem right, just being two," he observed with a sigh, and lay down across the sofa, using my knee as a pillow. I agreed, and after that neither of us said anything for a long time; there wasn't much to say about it, and less to be done. 

"Maybe he could come stay with us now and again while she's travelling," I suggested after a while. It was the only thing I could think of that had a reasonable chance of success. We couldn't go live with Rowen to keep him company; our home was there in Azu, on Ryo's property (even if it wouldn't be legally his until he was eighteen.) And I doubted his mother would allow us to do that anyway; she wasn't going to pay rent on an apartment like that just so Rowen's school-friends could take advantage of it. "Then he wouldn't be so alone and we could teach him more easily- and privately." 

"That's a good idea," Ryo murmured, and I looked down to see that his eyes had closed. "It'll help him get used to White Blaze, too."

I nodded, watching the firelight flicker across his face and gleam in his unruly hair; ran my hand across the straying black strands and smiled at his soft sigh. "I bet one day I'll do this and you'll start purring," I teased. Ryo turned over and looked up at me with a sleepy grin.

"I better get a kitten to teach me how, first," he said, and then yawned so hugely that I immediately yawned too. "I think I'm ready to go to sleep." 

"Me too. In the bed," I added as he closed his eyes and composed himself. 

"Aw, just as I got comfortable." Ryo made a face; I snorted, worked my arms under him, and picked him up to an accompanying, "Whoa!", wide-open blue eyes, and warm hands hastily grabbing at my shoulders. 

"This is what you get for being so lazy," I informed him, and stood up, finding he was heavier than he looked. By the time we got to his room, I was more than happy to drop him on the bed, almost literally, and then sit down beside him to catch my breath. And then to lie down beside him because his room was much chillier than the fire-warmed living-room...

I never did summon the initiative to get to my own room, but it turned out as well that I didn't. My dreams that night were...unkind.

The next week could be considered either 'quiet' or 'odd', depending who was looking at it. Things seemed to progress normally- except that on Tuesday, Ryo didn't go to the dojo to work, which totally altered the usual evening routine. It was the same again Thursday, and I began to have the feeling it would not happen Saturday, either. I might have dismissed it as a result of Kigan-san's illness, except for two things. First, I hadn't forgotten what Ryo said about having angry words with his sensei and feeling betrayed by him, and second, Ryo was behaving like he had something heavy on his mind. He was distracted, scowled a lot at no one (one might have been forgiven for thinking the walls of our home had offended him bitterly, for they took the brunt of some very nasty glares) and spent a lot of time assaulting the trees around the house with his practice sword. And yet he was as kind and affectionate to me as he had always been- in fact, somewhat moreso. I was glad he was so careful not to take his frustration out on me, but I was also quite concerned about the change. And yes, curious. So on Thursday night, after we ate and were cleaning up the kitchen, I decided it was time to ask some questions.

"Kigan-san didn't get sicker, did he?" 

Ryo shrugged and handed me a dripping plate without looking at me. I wiped it, watching him, and decided it was safe to be a little more direct; he had a rather resigned look on his face. He must have realized I'd bring it up eventually.

"Then there's some other reason you haven't been going there?"

My brother scowled into the dishwater, gripping the glass in his hand so tightly I feared it would shatter, and took it from him. "He- he won't teach you," he burst out, bringing his clenched fist down on the edge of the sink with a loud thump. "He says- he said he- it would make his stupid school seem- he was so...!"

I began to get the idea, more from the turmoil in his mind than his fragmented words, and sighed involuntarily. "Prejudiced?" I offered when he didn't complete the sentence. "I'm not very surprised, Ryo. Most of the people here have been very tolerant, but there were certainly going to be at least a few who weren't. It's inconvenient for me, since I hoped to learn something from him, but-"

"Inconvenient!" Ryo yelled, turning on me so abruptly, so angrily, that I actually stepped back. "He's a bigoted, intolerant creep, he was rude and nasty and- and he- and I used to think he-" 

I took a calming breath, put the dish-towel on the counter and laid my hands on my brother's tense shoulders. "I said it is inconvenient for me, not of him," I repeated. "But the fact is, there aren't many serious martial-arts teachers who will take 'foreigners'. They say it's untraditional-"

"That's the excuse he used," Ryo growled, shaking his head so his hair flew about his face. 

"Well, swordwork is a very old skill, and it's one that's not very practical in today's world- meaning it's often taught by people who're clinging very hard to tradition and old ways. The end result is, the more serious the teacher, the more likely they are to be narrow-minded about their students."

"But- but he's- he isn't very traditional- I mean, he lets me teach, for pity's sake- and- and he's casual, he doesn't insist on formal speech- and he encouraged me to experiment..." Ryo flung up his hands.

"He may make exceptions for you," I pointed out. "You're obviously a superior student...rekka." Ryo's mouth twitched in an almost-smile, but it faded as fast as it had come. "Or it may be that he's hiding his prejudice behind the common excuse." I paused, then sighed and pulled him closer to me. "I know you admired him a lot; I wish you hadn't had to find out that he's like this..." 

"Don't you feel guilty about it," my brother said warningly. "Don't you dare."

"I don't. His...attitude isn't my doing." But I did feel somewhat responsible, which was a different matter. It was my presence, my desire to learn, that had provoked that attitude. I decided I had better keep that to myself, though. 

"Exactly," Ryo muttered sullenly, then sighed. "I just- I don't- I don't think I can stand to go back there and learn from him! I definitely don't want to teach his damned classes anymore, but-"

But I need that money, and I still have so much to learn hung in my mind even as I closed my eyes at his loyalty. To know I was so important to him that he'd give up even his training for my sake thrilled me, though it made me feel a little selfish as well. I couldn't let him cast off his training for me- and this time, I decided firmly, I was going to win the argument. So-

"Ryo, it's not the students' fault, you shouldn't stop teaching them just because the sensei is unreasonable," I pointed out softly. "Besides, as long as you're teaching them, you don't have to worry about them picking up that...attitude from him, right?" I had a feeling I'd make more progress in my persuasion if I kept the question of money out of it.

Ryo looked up, surprise replacing the gloomy anger in his face. "Well...well, yeah, I guess that's one way to see it," he mused. 

"And no matter Kigan-san's attitude, he is a fine sword-master. You could go to someone else to learn if there was anyone else, but there isn't- not close enough, and maybe not very good, as well."

Ryo looked at me and sighed. "I don't want to be trained by a man who insults my brother," he growled, and leaned his forehead against my shoulder. "Don't tell me I don't have a choice, Seiji, please..."

I sighed too, caught between marvelously happy and very regretful. "You have about as much choice as Rowen had," I said sadly. "As much as I have... you're a Ronin, my brother. You have to know how to fight; you have to be one of the best there is, it's the only way you'll stand a chance when- when it comes. You can't let Kigan's pettiness take that chance away from you. You don't have to agree with him or like him, but please accept that he has more to teach you."

Ryo groaned a little and I wrapped my arms more tightly around him. "You're wisdom indeed, aren't you?" he sighed. "And you have to know how to fight, too- and I can't teach you what I don't know myself. But damn it-!"

"You're so loyal," I murmured. "You'd give that up for me... and my heart honors you for that, but I'm going to ask more of you, niichan. Don't give it up for my sake; continue with it. For my sake. Learn what you can from him and teach it to me- he can't forbid you to do that."

"He can try," was Ryo's sour answer. "But he won't succeed. I'll teach you no matter what. I promised you that first." 

I nodded, and after a while we finished washing the dishes, and then I found the scissors and carefully cut his hair. And all the time, an idea was taking shape in my mind. It was quite likely that it wasn't going to work, but I decided to try it anyway. I also decided not to tell Ryo about it right away. If it worked, he would be glad, but if it didn't he'd only be more upset. 

So on Sunday I told Ryo I was going to the village for a few things, went down to to Azu, found the dojo, and went inside to speak to Kigan-san.

I had known, in an offhand way, that there were two of them- that is, that Ryo's sensei was the elder of the Kigan brothers- but I had not really processed the information. So when I approached the man sitting at the desk in the tiny entry-office, I was somewhat surprised at how young he looked. He also looked rather unwell and I wondered if he was truly recovered from his illness or not. He looked up at my entry and nodded quite pleasantly, which gave me a feeling of hope. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as I feared. "Good morning," I began, bowing respectfully. "I have come to speak to sensei Kigan."

The young man looked wearily amused. "Which one?" he asked, and as I blinked, added, "If you want to talk about swords, you'll have to wait until tomorrow, but if it's kunfu that interests you, I'm the Kigan you want. My brother, the sword-master, is not working today."

"Oh," I said slowly, blushing. "I- had hoped to speak to- to the sword-master, about lessons-" and paused as the man's cheerful expression faded. "Is it true, then, that he - that he is...extremely traditional in his acceptance of students?"

The young man sighed and looked away, studying the wall-rack of swords that was the room's only decoration. "It would be accurate to say that," he agreed. 

I hesitated, then decided to gamble. Better to try and fail than not to try at all. "My brother told me this, but I had hoped... Ryo can't teach me much more, he says I need a more advanced teacher than him. I thought perhaps the sword-master would give me a trial, since he finds so few students who are truly dedicated." It was bragging, almost, but it was also true. Ryo had told me how much smaller the sword-work classes were than the kunfu classes, and how they lost a few students from each class to lack of enthusiasm. 

"You make a good point," the teacher agreed, turning to look at me again. "I have..taxed him with the thought that dedication is more important than rigid tradition, but he does not agree... and I will not have much say in his business much longer, so he is unlikely to compromise." I gave him a puzzled look and he sighed again. "I am...not well. There will be a new kunfu teacher here soon."

"Oh!" I said, surprised. "I'm sorry to hear you aren't well. Ryo didn't tell me."

"He doesn't know. He worries too much- it does him credit, but I don't want him getting an ulcer over something he can't help." Kigan studied me for a moment. "So he has taught you? No-datchi?" 

"Ah- yes," I agreed, taken a bit off guard by the sudden subject change. Clearly, Kigan the younger knew my brother quite well.

"I wondered why he was watching so many no-datchi classes lately. Well... as you are here and there is nothing much to do, perhaps you would care to show me how well he teaches. I have not had many opportunities to observe him, and I admit I am curious- and bored." He smiled and I found myself smiling back.

"I would be glad to," I replied, and ten minutes later I was dressed in one of the dojo's spare uniforms, obediently displaying each form that Kigan called out to me from the doorway of the large sword-classroom. After several minutes of this, he told me to stop and I did.

"Free-form." 

I frowned, wondering what that meant. "I- free form?"

"Ah. Close your eyes," he told me. "Yes, now...there is a man before you. He draws his sword. He attacks! Defend yourself!"

I opened my eyes, blinked, then hesitantly lifted my borrowed blade.

"No good; you're dead now. Right through the heart," Kigan said cheerfully. "Try again. Close your eyes...see your enemy...now defend!"

It took a few more tries, but eventually I got the idea. I felt very foolish, pretending to defend myself against something that existed only in the teacher's imagination, but if this was his way... I concentrated, trying to think only of the sword and not how ridiculous I must look, fighting nothing. Parry, attack, dodge, feint...

"Stop." The young man's voice confused me, jarring my concentration and banishing the shadow-enemy that had somehow become vividly real to me. I froze, carefully lowered my sword, and turned to look at him. "You've never fought your imagination before, have you?" he observed. 

"I- I- no," I answered, suddenly realizing I was panting. "Real people, or drills, never- like that."

He nodded, then straightened up from the wall where he was leaning. "You learn quickly, though. Ryo is right, you would make an excellent student." He paused, tilted his head, then asked, "He is not truly your brother, is he?"

I couldn't have kept the scowl off my face if I'd tried, and I didn't try. "He is my brother," I said coldly. "I will put the sword away now-"

"But his parents were not your parents." He nodded as I blinked at him. "I know who you are; I have seen you at tournaments before, Date Seiji. You're not easily forgotten. You've improved," he added thoughtfully, not seeming to see me shiver at the sound of my old name. "Interesting, isn't it, that a teacher as traditional as General Date could not teach you well, yet one as unconventional as Ryo could..."

"He could have, if he'd wanted to; all he taught me was a damned challenge-dance," I muttered before I knew I was going to say anything. "Ryo's parents may not be mine," I went on, fixing him with an angry stare, "but he Is. My. Brother. In every way that anyone could count a brother except blood itself."

"Ahh," Kigan said softly, and smiled again, more kindly. "Take the sword with you," he said, and I frowned at him. Confusing man! "In two weeks, I will be free to teach you; come to my house while your brother is here, training with my brother. He can tell you where it is. I am not a sword-master, but I have a good deal more training in no-datchi than Ryo does and I will teach you as much as you can learn. Which will be more than most, I think."

"I- I will, and I thank you, sensei," I told him uncertainly, giving him the correct bow. Well, I had said to Ryo that one need not like a teacher to learn from them, and that might be my case. I wasn't too sure I liked this weary-looking, sharp-tongued young man, but a teacher was a teacher. 

So it was that I came home from my 'shopping' trip carrying a slightly beat-up practice sword and bringing news that made Ryo happy enough to spend most of the rest of the evening humming- something he did when he was in an especially good mood. He still does, actually, and it's just as well he has a decent singing voice. Otherwise we'd never tell him anything good...

[Why, Ryo, you're blushing. Amazing.]