It's funny Ryo should mention flowers; that's sort of the root, pun intended, of how events unfolded that day.

And that's all the humor you're going to see from me for a while.

February thirteenth, the day before Valentine's Day, is sort of stuck in my experience as one of the most horrible days of my life, but the actual memory is very blurry around the edges. 

The early part of the day is clear enough: it was an ordinary winter school day, a Friday, and an icy one. Another storm system had moved in on Thursday afternoon and went on through the night, covering Toyama in more rain, snow and sleet, and of course the temperature had dropped overnight. When morning came the city was covered in a sheet of ice several centimeters thick and the result was a two-hour-late school opening while the roads were cleared and salted. 

I don't know if it was the delayed opening or the gloom of the weather- it looked like it might start snowing or sleeting again at any moment- but whatever the reason, the halls of Hanai were very nearly deserted that day. Possibly there was some mixup about which schools were closed and which were open. At any rate, I definitely didn't expect to see Ryo; the rails between Azu and Toyama might be too dangerous to run the trains on until Saturday at the earliest, and even if they did run, the delays were going to be formidable. I resigned myself to the fact before I ever left the house, and wondered pessimistically whether Rowen would be there or not. 

To my surprise, Rowen was in school, though he didn't look particularly happy about it. In fact, he hadn't been looking particularly happy about much of anything lately, and both Ryo and I had wondered about it a bit. He'd grown rather quiet, and his humor had taken a turn for the sour; cynical, as he called it. But he hadn't said anything about feeling left out or jealous, so we could only presume it was something personal and wait to see if he'd talk about it with us or not. So far, he hadn't, and I had speculated that perhaps he was homesick and talking of his home would just make him long for it more. Ryo thought perhaps there was trouble in his apartment building, maybe even with his parents. "Anyone whose parents travel as much as his do is bound to get grumpy and lonesome," he'd pointed out, and that was certainly true. But despite his inner unhappiness, Rowen still seemed genuinely glad to see us every day, whether individually or together, and I found that flattering. Not until I met Ryo had anyone ever been visibly glad to see me each day.

That day, Rowen gave me his welcoming smile when I stopped by his locker before class, but it faded faster than usual and I noticed his eyes seemed a bit red. "I suppose it'll be two for lunch today," he remarked. 

"Probably. Just walking here made me wish I had ice-skates on," I agreed, and Rowen snorted a laugh.

"Gee, I can just see you in a lovely pink satin-" was as far as he got before I hushed him with a glare. Ryo would have given him a cuff on the arm, but that wasn't really my way. "Or not," he concluded, grinning. 

"Not, I think," I assured him. "Though if I did, it would probably match your eyes right now."

Rowen sighed and made a face. "Noisy neighbors," he said briefly, then paused. "Well, that's not entirely accurate, but I'd rather not go into it right now, if you don't mind."

"I don't-" I began, and was cut off by the bell. "Good luck staying awake," I concluded, and hurried back down the hall to my classroom. 

The late start to the day made the time seem to pass more quickly for a while, but that illusion soon wore off and the day turned lethargic. Nothing much got done; the teachers merely gave large homework assignments and then let us do more or less as we pleased until the next class. I worked on the homework- sitting and staring out the window was far too boring and no one wanted to gossip with me- and got most of each assignment done before the next class began. 

Lunch, too, passed in the normal manner, with Rowen quietly repeating his most often-stated complaint in anticipation of the next day: school on Saturdays was an abomination and shouldn't be allowed. Having reestablished this, he then asked me a few questions about some cultural aspects of the country. I never minded explaining (as well as I could) but it continued to surprise me just how many things he could think of to ask about; he'd been doing so for about as long as I had known him and I'd expected him to run out of curiosity long ago. It was fascinating, though; it gave me a certain insight to just how very different our two countries were in attitude and custom, and I often ended up learning as much from him as he did from me, for he had a habit of comparing America's customs with Japan's. This time, he inquired about the custom of naming and numbering the years of each emperor's reign, then asked some questions about the Parliament.

"Now this is gonna sound kinda strange," he said, after we finished with politics, "but what is it with the gardens?"

"Gardens?" I repeated in surprise. It was the middle of February and he was talking about gardens? 

"I kept meaning to ask and forgetting," Rowen explained, irritably shoving at the one blue strand that constantly fell across his forehead. I'd gotten so used to his blue hair that it didn't seem odd anymore, but I did wonder why he didn't just get it cut. "Every garden I saw, before it got so wintery, was- well, weird. No flowers, hardly, just grass and little herb-plants and vines and things. Stone-patches and fountains and shrubs. Ordinary vegetables, even. But I always read and heard about the flowers and how flower-arranging is this big deal, all these flower shows...and I can't figure it out. If flowers are such a big thing, how come you hardly ever see any?"

"Oh, that's easy," I said cheerfully. "Gardens outside are mostly for relaxing and meditating. And they're all about being practical and useful, too. So you have different kinds of grass for variety, and useful herbs that you can use in the kitchen, and fountains and windchimes or the pebble paths to help you focus your mind. Flowers are different, those are mainly for enjoyment inside the home- except for people with allergies- and competition. So they're raised in greenhouses, usually by very dedicated people. Sometimes professional botanists, sometimes just enthusiasts, but people who are really into producing champion flower-lines. Sort of like dog-breeders," I finished.

"Oh," Rowen said, and thought that over for a minute. "It's sort of all or nothing with hobbies here, isn't it?" he observed. "When people have a hobby, they kinda go all out, there's nothing really...relaxed about it. It's sort of more about having the hobby than having fun with it..."

"That sort of depends on the person," I mused. "But yes, I guess we do take our hobbies pretty seriously- comes of taking most of the rest of our lives seriously, too, I think." I shrugged, then added, "But that doesn't mean you won't see plenty of flowers blooming when spring comes. You did get here in the autumn, after most of them were gone, so you didn't get to see everything."

"Um..." Rowen suddenly looked abashed and I smiled at him. "I don't know why I didn't think of that," he grumbled after a moment. 

"You should come by and see the Date garden sometime," I remarked almost idly. "He has a lot more flowers than most people do- his wife used to go to flower shows when she was alive, though I don't know if she arranged anything herself."

"I'd like that," Rowen returned, "though of course nothing will be out now, will it?"

"Well, not much on the grounds, but there is the rose-house," I remembered aloud. "It's a mini-greenhouse, I guess," I explained at Rowen's curious look. "A little glass building in the center of the regular garden, about the size of an ordinary room, with a white-stone path that winds all around it in an irregular spiral. You go past the beds of grass and herbs on the outside, then the bonsai on the next level in, then some small flowers, then the irises- and then in the center there's the seven rosebushes around the little fountain. And the fish in the pool. Some koi and carp. You can sit on the edge of the fountain and watch them and smell the roses...it's relaxing. No windchimes, though; no wind."

"I would like to see that," Rowen repeated seriously. "You make it sound really neat."

For some reason, I felt my face burn. "I- I spend a lot of time in there in the winter. Can't really meditate outdoors then," I murmured, and we were both quiet for a moment. "The problem, of course," I felt obligated to remark, "is the General. He doesn't mind visitors- in fact, he likes having people come by and being able to give them tours, which happens more often than you'd think. But he has to approve of them, you see-"

"He wouldn't approve of an American turning up, hm?" Rowen inquired sardonically. 

"I don't know about American," I admitted with a sigh, "but he doesn't like me, so any friend of mine..."

"Ah." Rowen's eyes narrowed. "Though, seeing as it's outside, he wouldn't exactly have to know a friend of yours had come by, would he?"

I think my mouth dropped open briefly. Of all the brazen schemes! "He wouldn't have to know you went in to look around, that's true, but I couldn't ask you to come into the house- in fact, you'd have to stay out of sight of the windows. And it's much too cold out to stay out there the whole time-"

"Oh, it's not that bad, no worse than in New York," was his wistful reply. "And no offense, but I wouldn't wanna go inside anyway. Not if there was any chance I'd have the displeasure of making his acquaintence."

I blinked, admiring the neat way he'd phrased that, then thought for a moment. The sheer daring of the idea was appealing to me, and the thought of outsmarting my grandfather was almost impossible to resist. "I wouldn't be able to go with you," I added, suddenly remembering that part. "By the time we get there, it'll be about time for me to get to the practice room for my sword drill. Actually," I mused, "the timing on that would work pretty well..."

By the time the end-of-lunch bell rang, we had it all planned out. I would take Rowen to the garden, then go into the practice room and go through my drill with the General. After I was finished, the General would do his own exercise-drill, which would give me time to find Rowen and spend a little time answering any questions he might have before escorting him out. I might even be able to slip some refreshment out to him, with luck. But we would both have to be careful, and it was just as well that it was ice covering everything and not snow. Snow would leave footprints, and two sets of footprints would lead to very unwelcome questions. 

Having made our plans, we returned to our classrooms for the remainder of the day.

If I'd known what awaited me, I wouldn't have been nearly so impatient for the school day to end.

My original plan to show Rowen the rose house at the center of the garden then go to the practice room suffered one slight change: I had to go into the house to drop my bookbag in my room first, for I certainly couldn't bring it into the practice room with me. 

I felt a little guilty as I hurried back outside to the practice room; leaving Rowen alone wasn’t the proper polite thing to do at all, not at any time and especially not on a cold day in the middle of February. One didn’t leave a guest alone, and one certainly didn’t make them stay outdoors in icy weather, even when they stated that they preferred it. The rose house wasn't nearly as cold as the outdoors, since both the plants and the fish needed some heat, but it wasn't comfortably warm like the house either. Protocol demanded that a guest be as comfortable as possible, and the hospitality of food and drink was equally important. 

On the other hand, one didn’t expose a friend to someone like the General. For Rowen’s sake as well as my own, he was better off outside. I consoled my conscience with the thought that it wouldn’t be long; my practices weren’t taking much more than half an hour, these days. It wasn’t because the General had decided I’d improved, though. On the contrary, he'd been more critical of my skill this winter than he ever had before, and each training session consisted more of verbal abuse and insults than actual training. If I'd still been trying to earn his approval, it would have been devastating; even so, it was hard to keep my feelings- mostly anger- under control sometimes. But at least I was enduring less of it than I would have, because- although he would rather have died than admit it- the General was no longer up to spending two hours in that unheated room wearing nothing but his gi. 

Not that I enjoyed it myself. The walls kept out the wind, and the exercise helped, but I was always shivering by the time my practice was done. A reasonable person would have practiced indoors, or worn winter clothing, but the old man wouldn't hear of practicing inside and refused to reconsider his rule that one must never wear 'ordinary' clothing in the sacred practice room. I usually got around that by putting my coat on over my gi and wearing my gloves while I polished the swords, then taking them off when I heard the General's footsteps on the gravel path. This time, since I was a little late, I didn’t bother getting changed at all, just opened up the can of polish and got to work, reminding myself that I'd have to stop sooner than usual and dress appropriately. 

Ever since Ryo had defeated Grandfather, I had made a point of polishing the katana pair first, smiling as I remembered that marvelous fight. Then I moved around to the longswords, and by the time I was on the fourth one, my mind was wandering. Mostly I was musing about Rowen- how right Ryo had been, how alike we were. Our senses of humor, our logic, our isolation... It was hard to believe I had resented him so much at the beginning, hard to understand why I’d been so set against his presence. We could talk comfortably together about so many things, but more, we could be comfortably silent together, not feeling awkward as we pored over our own thoughts. His quick intelligence fascinated me- I had never met anyone so smart- and yet, in some ways he was so uninformed, almost innocent. 

‘Probably not too innocent in America, though- it’s his unfamiliarity with our country that makes him seem a little naïve. Like today, when I asked him if he knew what this meant…’

I smiled wryly at that thought, carefully wiping my no-daitchi blade. As I may have mentioned, inviting someone to your home is something not lightly done in Japan. It indicates a change in a relationship, a deepening, a bond of trust and confidence. But when I had paused at the end of the driveway and asked Rowen, ‘Do you know what this means?’ he had thought I was talking about the road, or the gravel, or perhaps the cedar trees, and asked in return which ‘this’ I was referring to. There hadn’t been time to explain. Or maybe I’d just been too embarrassed to explain. Maybe he’d ask Ryo about it- that would be more to my liking. I still wasn’t very good at talking about my feelings, and doubted I ever would be.

I was so busy thinking that I didn’t hear the door swing open behind me, didn’t hear the soft footsteps on the tatami mats. I wasn’t aware of the General’s presence until a strong hand clamped around my wrist and squeezed. I dropped the sword with a gasp and looked up- just as his hard fist cracked against the side of my face and sent me sprawling. Little yellow lights burst before my eyes; I blinked them away and warily raised my head- and flinched at the sight of my grandfather. He was staring down at me, his face contorted with fury, something clenched in his hand. But what truly shocked me was that he was in his everyday clothes. He had been in such a hurry to get to me, to punish me, that he had broken his own rule- and that terrified me.

"Sir?" I gasped, not daring to sit up. He was only a step away-

"Sir," he hissed, almost mockingly. "How dare you?" His foot lashed out and caught me hard in the side. I gasped again at the pain and tried to roll away; he followed, kicking me several more times before dropping down beside me, pinning me to the tatami with his knee. He raised his clenched fists- I think I cried out- and then pain after pain exploded through me as he pounded my face and body with all the strength in his warrior's arms. I couldn’t move, couldn’t see straight, couldn’t escape the frenzy of agony. 

It seemed to go on for hours. I tried to pull away, tried to curl up and protect my face, my chest, my stomach, but his grip was unbreakable. It all began to blur into a single mass of pain and I stopped trying to fight...it was too hard and I was so weak...

Abruptly, a change: a rough hand wrenched my coat away from me and the cold swept in. His hand gripped my chin and shook me hard; his voice growled something I couldn't quite understand. I could hear my breathing, fast and harsh, felt pain burst in my ribs with every breath. 

"Look at me!" he snarled, shaking me again, and somehow I opened my eyes. He was still crouched beside me, his face still full of hate. 

“Please-” It came out in a sob, my throat tight with cries. I couldn’t understand; I had broken his rule, yes, but this- this-!

“Please," he snorted. "Please what? Have mercy, you little filth? Mercy for a sneaking, lying, disobeying- did you think me a fool, demon-brat? You think I don’t see your deceptions, don’t know the smirks and disrespect behind your dutiful, humble pose? Spinning your lies, pretending to obey me, but all along you and that boy were plotting and scheming- deliberately dishonoring me! ‘A student does not need two teachers- it is more fitting for my head-of-clan to teach me’- lies! Lies!”

He knew. Terror shuddered through me and I shrank back, trembling in fear, pain, shock. He knew! Somehow he had learned that I was friends with Ryo, was learning from him- and now- “S-sir,” I gasped, “I-”

"Silence!" he bellowed, and then his voice sank to a menacing whisper. "Do not think to lie to me again, boy." Suddenly his hand unclenched, revealing a torn scrap of paper. "Sage," he read, with that strange mocking note again in his words: "tell the ogre you've got a history project to finish Sunday, and meet me at the usual place. Kigan-san won't be needing me, so we can get a good 2-3 hours practice in if you're up for it. Ryo."

The note. The note Ryo had left me after I'd told him I'd been grounded- the note I'd carelessly put in my backpack and forgotten about. I'd dropped my backpack into the corner by my desk not half an hour ago, and while I was dutifully polishing his sword-trophies, the old man had searched my room and found it...

The paper fluttered from his hand as he slammed both clenched fists into my abdomen, driving the breath from my lungs. "Liar!" Another blow. "Disgrace!" Another. "Disobedient-!" 

Hazy, half-conscious, I felt bones crack. Warm salt on my tongue… pain stabbing as I tried to get a breath… 

Silence, and pain, and the sudden sound of metal clanging on metal- or was it my head ringing-? Dimly, I heard the creak and slam of the door and tried to open my eyes, but all I could see was blackness.

When the blackness lifted I was freezing. Literally. My hands and feet were numb, my arms and legs nearly so. I was shivering violently, and every shudder sent waves of pain through my midsection. I opened my eyes and only then became aware that I was lying on my side instead of my back. My shattered sword lay on the mat a few inches from my eyes, but the sight made less impression on me than the little streaks of drying blood on the floor. My blood- that was the taste in my mouth. I was hurt inside… I watched dimly as my numb hands moved to press against the rice-mat, and when it seemed right, I gritted my teeth and pushed-

And moaned, sinking back to the floor, too weak to scream in pain. Blackness whirled through my head again, then slowly steadied into the practice room. Pain right down to my bones, knives stabbing through my chest… hurt. Hurt bad, and the cold would kill me if blood loss didn’t. Cold…Ryo. Ryo, with his warm hands and his strong arms and kind smile- I needed him. He’d help me, protect me…he was Wildfire…I’d promised him…something…

"Kourin."

I opened my eyes again, wondering at that softly-spoken word. I didn’t think I’d gone to sleep- it hurt too much. The shadow of an old man- a man I recognized- hung in the air near my sword. Beside him was- armor. Green, empty armor, a sword slowly unsheathing from behind it. My armor of light, Kourin, and the sword was glowing warmly green. I tried to reach out for it, knowing, without knowing how, that Kourin could heal me-

The vision faded; my hand fell to the floor. The Halo armor would heal me- but my orb was in my bedroom, in the dresser drawer. 

“Help…” My voice was a ragged whisper. “Ancient…help…” But he was gone, and Kourin was gone, and I was so cold.

The squeal of hinges, and suddenly, someone leaning over me. Wide gray eyes in a pale face, blue- Rowen. Rowen! 

“Sage? Sage! Oh my God!” He tore off his heavy coat and gently laid it over me, tucking the edges down to block the gusting wind. “Hang on,” he said swiftly, “I’ll run in and call emergency-”

“N-no,” I gasped. “No- listen-” I couldn’t tell whether I was speaking English or Japanese, and was dimly grateful that he understood both. “Go…in. My room. Dresser…top- top-” What was the word again?

“Your room, the top drawer of your dresser,” Rowen repeated anxiously. “Okay-”

“Orb,” I managed.

“Orb?”

“Small…green…glass…”

“Oh, oh, okay,” he repeated. “Okay, right- hang on, okay, buddy? I’ll be fast.” And then he was gone, his footsteps thudding, the door creaking.

He probably was, but it didn’t seem that way to me. I lay under his coat, panic clawing at me, counting my heartbeats and praying they wouldn’t stop. The drifting resignation had deserted me the second I realized I had a chance, but it was such a thin chance and I was so weak and hurt… and I couldn’t seem to breathe right… I wanted Ryo; I wouldn’t be so afraid if he was there. Even if I died- but I couldn’t die, I had promised I wouldn’t leave him. ‘Niichan- need you…’

Another squealing squeak, and Rowen dropped to his knees by my head. “Got it,” he panted, and carefully placed the warm little ball into my shaking hand, closing my fingers around it. I closed my eyes and thought of Kourin, the armor, the kanji…wisdom…light…

Light, green light flooding from between my fingers. A wash of warmth, and then the soft sound of a sword sliding into the mat beside my broken one. I couldn’t seem to open my eyes, but I knew it was there and tried to reach out for it. Movement beside me, and then Rowen’s hands were gently pressing the hilt of the sword into my hands, holding the blade against my body. ‘Heal,’ I thought dimly. ‘Heal me… Kourin, heal me.’

The pain was blinding. I couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t let go of the sword. Couldn’t breathe. ‘Ryo,’ I thought, and then everything went black again.

The darkness was warm, warm and soft, and there was a flickering light in it. 

That didn’t make sense, so I frowned and opened my eyes.

I was lying on my side, and for a moment I thought I was still in the practice room. I gasped as fear and memory jolted awake, and beside me, something moved. “Sage? Easy, buddy…take it easy,” a familiar voice said soothingly. 

“R-rowen?” I whispered. Rowen kneeling beside me, pressing the orb into my hand, tucking his coat around me… and a dizzy half-vision of him lifting me to his back and carrying me through the wind… Now the cold wind had stopped and the pain was gone- but the precious orb still rested loosely in my hand and I was shivering. “Where-?”

“In your room.” He shifted, and I saw the light that had puzzled me. I was lying on my futon, wrapped in blankets; he was sitting beside me, his back to the wall and the battery-light on the floor beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

That was too complicated to answer. “Don’t know,” I answered truthfully, and he scooted closer to the bed. 

“Cold?”

“N-not really. But not- very warm. I can't...stop sh-shaking…” My teeth were chattering.

“Yeah, that's how your body generates some heat. Exercise, in a way. It'll stop as you warm up. Don't worry, it won't take long,” he replied calmly. “Thirsty?”

“Yes…”

“Got something for that here.” He turned a moment and lifted something from the floor- a glass of water. I managed to prop myself up on one arm and he held the glass so I could drink. The water was very cold, but it took the lingering taste of blood from my mouth. “There ya go… I could get you something hot, if you want…?” I shook my head, looking up at him, and he patted my arm. “Or later, maybe. How about the rest of it- any pain?”

I thought about that for a time, carefully lying back down, closing my eyes and gingerly testing my body for hints of pain. Rowen pulled the blanket back up, tucking it around my shoulders, and I relaxed a little in the warmth. “Stiff and achy,” I concluded a minute or so later. “Like bruises. But nothing like…what it was.” My breath caught and Rowen’s hand rested on my arm again. 

“That’s good. Whatever that sword did, I’m real glad it worked,” he said simply. “Certainly faster than the hospital.”

“Hospital couldn’t’ve done anything,” I murmured. “Not without- his permission.”

“Ohh,” my friend said slowly. “Maybe that’s why he left, then.”

“Left?” I opened my eyes.

“Yeah, I came to see what was going on,” Rowen said grimly. “Heard someone yell and then this weird clanging noise, so I left the flower-room and came over to have a look. I didn't get too close," he added as I looked up anxiously. "And I was only there a couple seconds before he came out. Walked down the path, past the house, and I lost sight of him, but I heard a car start up and go roaring down the driveway, so I figured I'd poke my head in and see if everything was okay while he was gone." He paused, then added in a lower, speculative tone, "He was probably figuring to be out of touch so that if you did get medical help…”

He didn’t finish, didn’t need to. “I think you’re right,” I answered bleakly. "Some might have treated me without permission, but they would have tried to locate him, first, and that...the wait-" 

"Right," Rowen agreed. "Delaying treatment isn't good for ya."

"Yes. I- I guess he really does want me dead..." My voice shook, but I didn’t care.

“He ain’t gonna get what he wants,” Rowen said fiercely, squeezing my arm. “Now, look, Sage. You rest a while, and when you feel better, I’ll find you something to eat. I got nowhere particular I need to be, and I’m not leavin’ you like this. So just relax and let yourself drift- I’ll be here.”

I stared at him for a moment in wordless gratitude, then clasped his hand in both of mine and held it to my body. I still wanted Ryo, still longed for his familiar strength- but Rowen’s loyal protectiveness touched me so deeply that for a moment I thought I might cry. “Such a friend,” I said faintly after a moment. “Such a friend as this…” I couldn’t think of anything to compare it to, that friendship he was bestowing on me, so shook my head and let my eyes close. 

I drifted, but I didn't really relax. I grew warm, even comfortable, but I didn't stop shaking. I was in shock, unable to control the fear that kept darting in to grip me. I held tightly to Rowen's hand, squeezed the Halo orb until my fingers ached, but I didn't feel safe and I wasn't sure I ever would again. 

The beating was bad enough- some might even say I deserved it, for disobeying and lying. And the breaking of my sword was nothing to me then; I was far more caught up with the breaking of my ribs, the fracture of my wrist. The Kourin sword had healed me of what could have been life-threatening injuries, but I couldn't so easily dismiss the memory of the agonizing pain and weakness. 

But for him to leave me, without my coat, in the frigid practice room, knowing quite well that I was too weak to get to warmth and safety... Even with my coat, I would have died of exposure not long after sunset, and I had been dangerously hypothermic when Rowen found me. And the internal bleeding hadn't helped. So one could argue that perhaps he hadn't meant to beat me so violently, but one could not overlook his very deliberate action of leaving me there. There was not the slightest hint of a doubt in my mind that he had left hoping to find me dead on his return. The fact that he had driven away afterwards, making himself unavailable to any sort of contact was almost anticlimactic; I hardly needed any more convincing that he wanted me dead.

That was the main thought that wore circles in my mind. I didn't stop to wonder what now, didn't try to come up with a plan of action, didn't ask Rowen what he thought I should do- I simply couldn't think that far ahead. I didn't even ask myself what he'd do when he came back and found I was still alive. 

At least, not right then.

Some time later- I have no idea how long it was- I jerked out of a half-doze with a strange feeling of anxiety. Rowen was still beside me, sitting on the floor near my pillow, but he had slid his hand free of mine, and as I blinked at him in the dim light, I could see from his profile that he had turned towards the door. His frown was clear even in the shadows, and I immediately wondered what was wrong.

“Rowen?” I asked softly, and he glanced at me quickly, holding up his hand. I pushed back the blankets, wincing as the bruises on my arms protested, then propped myself up on my right elbow. And heard it: footsteps. Footsteps on the floor below- it must have been the sound of the front door closing that woke me. 

The General.

He’s going to find me. He’s going to-

“Rowen!” I hissed shakily. “Get out of here! Quick, go- if he finds you here-”

Rowen turned sharply to me. “Too late,” he mouthed, and then lifted his finger to his lips. Too late. Yes, he was right- the General would be looking for me, checking every room- and now the footsteps were hurrying up the stairs, I heard the wood squeaking. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t, I was shaking too badly. He was going to kill me. He would hurt Rowen, then force him to leave, then- 

My heart was pounding in my ears and I felt cold and weak. I couldn’t seem to pull my thoughts together, couldn’t think what to say or do that might prevent what was about to happen. My fear was so great that I was almost numb with it; I couldn’t even make myself reach out to Rowen, though he was less than a foot away from me. The single thought fluttered madly in my head: this time, he wouldn’t leave me alive.

The footsteps came swiftly down the hall, then paused outside my door. I stared at it, a dark square that seemed to grow darker, hazier, and wondered from a great distance if I was going to faint. The door swung open-

A figure moved swiftly across the room-

I heard Rowen’s breath go in, felt my eyes grow huge at-

An impossible vision of narrowed blue eyes, wild black hair, stubborn young face- a glimpse of red jacket and faded jeans- and then his strong arms were holding me tightly to his warm body as he knelt beside my bed. “Seiji!” I could hardly hear his voice over my fear-ragged breathing. “Seiji, niichan, he hurt you…you’re shaking…”

“Ryo,” I gasped, too dazed to believe it. “Ryo…?”

“I’m here. I’m here, Seiji. It’s okay. He won’t hurt you again, my brother, not ever.”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn't think. I just lay blankly against him, fear, disbelief, astonishment and intense relief all fighting for dominance, and after a moment, the relief won. I closed my eyes, slowly lifted my left arm to wrap around him, then my right. I felt his embrace tighten as he took my weight, felt the softness of his hair and the sleek fabric of his jacket...and for a long, long moment, he was the absolute center of the world. 

Ryo...oh, Ryo...I knew I wouldn't be so afraid if you were with me...

“My God,” I heard Rowen say, exhaling the words. “You do know how to make an entrance, pal. Had us scared stiff, thinkin’ it was HIM comin’ back.”

“Thinking- oh! Oh, no…oh, guys, I’m sorry, I should’ve thought of that. Should’ve called out, but I was afraid he’d hear and try to stop me…” Ryo’s voice trailed off apologetically and I stopped listening as the two of them spoke softly over my head. I was safe. He was here. But-

Ryo, how did you know?

My brain slowly started to get back into gear and I became aware that I was shivering again. Then Ryo's hands loosened and I felt him lift and tuck the blanket around me before settling me against him again. I looked up, not letting go, staring avidly at his worried face. "Ryo- how?" I whispered.

"That's what I was gonna ask," Rowen murmured. "If you got a cell phone, I don't know anything about it, and I know Sage ain't been making any calls..."

Ryo bit his lip, his forehead wrinkling. "It..I can't really explain it. It was- a - a feeling, a feeling I couldn't ignore. I just...knew." But as he spoke, his hand slid up my back to touch my left arm and my left hand tightened inadvertantly on the Halo orb. So, somehow, the armor had warned him? And he didn't want to speak of it with Rowen next to us? 

It was about then that I realized I had a good deal of explaining to do, to both of them. Ryo needed to know what Rowen had done for me, and what he'd seen as a result. And Rowen needed- deserved- to know a lot more than that. I slowly sat up and Ryo loosened his grip on me, wrapping the blanket more securely around me. "Did he- did he hurt you badly?" 

"Badly enough," Rowen growled, and I smiled weakly at him. "And that creep left the place; we figure he wanted to be out of touch in case any doctors happened to enter the picture."

Ryo looked alarmed. "Maybe-"

"No," I broke in. "No, I don't need to go to a hospital. Rowen got me out of danger..." And as Ryo hesitated, I added softly, "Kourin, too. It's just- bruises." 

Ryo's brows lifted in surprise. "Well...if you're certain," he said doubtfully. "You know more about this stuff than I do, but..." Suddenly he turned to Rowen. "What do you say?"

"I say he probably doesn't need a hospital, now he's warmed up. But he does need a warm, safe place to sleep, and probably some food too. And I don't think this place is gonna provide that, particularly not the 'safe' part," Rowen replied gravely. "In fact I was kinda thinking about that. We thought you were him- he is gonna come back, sooner or later, you know. I don't think any of us should be here when he does."

"Definitely." There was hot steel in Ryo's voice and he drew me closer. I didn't even think of resisting; the thought of facing the General again made me cold all over again. "And once you leave here," he added, resting his hand on my head, "you are not coming back. I'm not going to give that fiend another chance at you."

There was a brief silence as I tried to gather my scattered wits, then, when I said nothing, Rowen spoke up again. "Sounds right to me, but I sorta had a different thought for tonight. You could take him home, Ryo, but it's a long way on the train, and in bad weather."

"That's true, it is sleeting again," my brother admitted grimly. "It's probably going to go on all night."

"Meaning there's a chance you could get part-way back and then get stuck- and that wouldn't do either of you any good. Sage, you think you could walk a couple blocks?"

"I think so, yes," I murmured, grateful for the way they both seemed to be taking charge of the situation. 

"A few blocks?"

"My folks' apartment is six, seven blocks away- and more important, my folks aren't home, they're both away 'til Tuesday. Well, Monday night. So no awkward questions," Rowen explained, still in that unusually grave, almost curt way. "There's plenty of room for three," he added, making it clear that the invitation extended to Ryo as well as me. 

"Thank you," Ryo said softly, in that way he had. No one can get quite as much into those two overused words as he can. "That's an excellent plan, and much better than mine. You're good with this?" he added to me. I sat up and nodded, determined to at least try and express the gratitude in my heart.

"I can manage a short way a lot easier than a long way- and- and I really prefer the thought of being with you both. I'll feel safer," I admitted, looking from Ryo to Rowen. Ryo smiled; Rowen looked surprised, and a small, almost pleased expression touched his face. He was still sitting near the lamp, his back to the wall; I held out my right hand and he got up, moving to crouch beside us and taking my hand hesitantly. "He wouldn't leave me," I said softly to Ryo. "Even when we thought- even then, he wouldn't go. And he helped me so much..."

Rowen actually blushed, ducking his head as Ryo regarded him with pride and approval, and I smiled, having been the recipient of that gentle look myself now and again. "Yes. That's the kind of person he is," he agreed. "The kind it's a privilage to have for a friend."

"Definitely. Almost family, in fact," I suggested as Rowen turned even redder and squeezed my hand. 

"Now there's a privilage," he muttered. "Thanks...thanks, guys, but really- it wasn't as if I could just- go. Though," he went on, looking up, "we probably oughta do that, and talk later, yeah?"

"Yes," I agreed, my gaze shifting to the orb in my left hand as I slowly let go of Ryo. There was green light flickering from between my fingers, and a sudden uneasy feeling began to tingle in my belly. "I have a feeling...we don't have a lot of time."

That's where things get blurry; everything seemed to start happening very quickly. Ryo got me to my feet, minus the blanket and helped me put my jacket on. My hands were still shaking so much that he had to zip it up for me. While he did this, I had a vague impression of Rowen moving around the room, but didn't pay much attention until I was walking through the doorway; I glanced back to see, with some surprise, that my room looked untouched- the bed made, the dresser closed, the lamp back on the table and the glass of water gone. Rowen, following us as I leaned on Ryo, flicked out the light and closed the door behind us as we moved down the hall. 

Then the stairs were under my feet, creaking, and I winced at the noise, my unease growing stronger. My hands were in my coat pockets and I could feel the heat of the orb, and the heat of Ryo's hand on my arm, supporting me. Then out into the icy black night. Cold wetness pattering down from the sky. Stumbling on the slick sidewalk. Bitter winds cutting through my coat. The dim light of street lamps reflecting rainbows off the ice, oddly pretty, the sound of car engines, the blinding brightness of headlights and the stink of cold exhaust. Frozen salt gritting under my feet, and cold, and dizzily tired, and Rowen's voice talking to me about a cup of hot tea and a bowl of steaming soup...and with those encouragements I looked up and saw the glowing white shapes of the 'salt pillar' apartments and made a last effort down the entry road into the blessedly warm, quiet, dry building.

I don't remember the elevator at all, which is somewhat odd; the only thing that did register was sitting down on a soft cushion as gentle hands helped me off with my coat, and the fuzzy-soft blanket Rowen spread over me. And Ryo's arms holding me close, keeping me safe while I slept.