I didn't sleep very well that Friday the Thirteenth, and it wasn't just because sleeping on the floor isn't very comfortable. 

I did what I told Rowen I was going to: took a pillow and blanket off the bed in the room he'd showed me, made up a pallet on the carpet near the sofa, then turned off the lights and lay down. And failed to get to sleep for quite a long time. 

It was a strange experience, sleeping in a city apartment. I was used to the dark silence of Azu's woods- there, the only noise was the wind and maybe some rustling, and the only light was moonlight. Here in the city, light from the buildings and signs shone through the windows, even with the curtains shut. It was noisier, too- mostly car noise, horns and such, but every now and then there was the distant sound of a train. I was used to hearing the train whistles in Azu, but my house wasn't close enough to hear the train-cars rushing along the rails. It was hard to relax in such surroundings, and as I said, lying on the floor wasn't nearly as comfortable as I'd expected from walking on it. It was a nice thick carpet, but I quickly got the feeling that there wasn't much padding between it and the floor underneath.

It also didn't help that I was worrying about Sage, hoping he really was all right. I wondered if we should have taken him to the hospital, even though he'd said Kourin had healed him; even though the doctors might not actually do anything without adult permission. I wondered if that really was why the General had left. Why had he beaten Sage in the first place? How bad it had really been? Why had Rowen been there? Though it was a good thing he had been...but why was he mad at me?

That turned my thoughts to a whole new track; I lay there with my arm behind my head, staring at the light-patterns on the ceiling, listening to Sage's soft breathing and trying to figure out just what Rowen meant with his angry, cryptic, 'You weren't there!' Was he suggesting I should have gotten there sooner? That didn't seem to make much sense. And on top of that, he was jealous; I had given him reasonsto be, apparently. I frowned, rather disgusted that he should be thinking so much of himself and so little of Sage, who'd needed comfort and care. What 'reasons' could there be in that? All I'd done was...well...pay attention to Sage and not to Rowen. After all, Sage was the one who'd been hurt-! 

Or...was he? Had Rowen gotten hurt too, trying to defend Sage? 

Suddenly I began to see what reasons Rowen might be talking about. I hadn't thought to ask if he was all right. In fact, I hadn't asked him anything, hadn't really said much to him at all... hadn't even wondered why he was there until just a few minutes ago. I hadn't meant to ignore him, but I hadn't noticed I was doing it, either; all my feelings had been centered on Sage- and on myself, my own fear and anger. Seen in that light, it was hardly reasonable of me to blame Rowen for having his feelings centered on Sage...and himself. As he'd reminded me, he'd been the one to find Sage- and that had to have been frightening...

'I guess I was insensitive,' I thought guiltily, shifting position with a sigh. My arm was going to sleep, and I wished I could join it, but I knew that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. 'I show up, I ignore Rowen for Sage, Rowen gets jealous that no one's bothering to make sure he's okay and wishes I wasn't there...? Or was he jealous that Sage...' I squirmed a little on the blanket, remembering how Sage had clung to me. 'He said Rowen helped him a lot, but he sure wasn't letting go of me. But then why'd Rowen say I gave him reasons? Maybe he meant you like both of you? Oh, I don't know! I'll just have to ask him in the morning and hope it doesn't bother Sage too much.'

It was a sensible solution, so naturally I spent a good two hours alternately re-examining the situation and telling myself to quit fretting and leave it til morning. Sensible is something I sometimes am not. 

I finally fell asleep sometime around two in the morning- and, not unexpectedly, had a nightmare.

I was brushing White Blaze. Kneeling on the floor, rubbing the brush over his thick fur, grumbling- not seriously- about the amount of sweeping I'd have to do when I was finished. Blaze was ignoring my teasing, stretching his neck up, eyes closed in enjoyment-

From nowhere, pain struck, sending me to the floor with a cry. Someone had punched me- but there was no one there! Another punch knocked the breath out of me, and then a kick, and another blow and another and...

Blaze, wrapping his great body around me, pressing his head against mine and rumbling his soothing almost-purr... hanging on to his warm solid body as the punches and kicks rained down on me...on us. I spun between two realities, Sage's and Blaze's: one second doubling over as the General broke my brother's ribs, the next, staring into my tiger's eyes as the pain faded into a bad memory. 

But it kept returning. 

Blackness. I was lying in blackness- no, I was lying on the wooden floor of my home. I fought to sit up. Leaning against White Blaze's side, panting and wiping a shaking arm across my forehead. Then I tried to get to my feet- hard work, I was dizzy and blackness kept swimming across my eyes. I staggered for the bedroom, for the orb, falling three or four times between the living room and my room. The orb...it was glowing... it was in my hand and the frightening sensations stopped- stopped, just like that, as I was involuntarily covered in the under-gear. 

A minute later, I was out in the sleet-slippery snow, running faster than I ever had before in my life, heading for Toyama- for Sage.

Don't die- Seiji, brother, don't die-!

I sat up with a gasp, my heart racing, and stared around the unusually light room. I couldn't see White Blaze, nothing looked familiar, and I was about to call out in confused fear when I heard the sound of breathing beside me. I looked over and up to see light glowing across the sofa beside me...across Sage's sleeping figure. I stared at him for a long moment as my memory went into overdrive, then let out a long sigh and leaned against the sofa arm. Dream or memory, whatever one wanted to call it, it was over and we were both safe... even if there were a few things missing. Like I couldn't remember whether I had actually taken the train or simply run all the way to Toyama- I didn't think I could have gotten there in an hour, running it, but with such strange things happening, perhaps I had. I did remember when Sage awoke in the cold and called weakly for me, but I didn't know whether he'd heard me or not when I yelled that I was on my way, and I wasn't sure I wanted to ask. Shortly after that, there'd been a flash of green that I didn't understand, and then blackness again. From the little Sage had told me I concluded that must have been when the Kourin was healing him, but at the time it just made me try to run faster, swearing to myself that if Sage had died, the General was toast. 

But he hadn't died. There he was, sound asleep on the sofa, his face calm and peaceful...except for the bruise on the side of his jaw. I rubbed my own jaw, remembering the spots that had burst in front of my- his- eyes... the smothering fear, the confusion, the numbing cold... and the terrible, terrible pain. The pain and fear had blurred things; I remembered the General's voice speaking, and the sight of a broken sword- had that been what the beating was about?- but it was all a senseless haze in my mind. Maybe in the morning, Sage would explain. Or maybe he wouldn't. But either way, at least he was safe now...

I leaned against the sofa until I grew too sleepy to sit up and lay back down on the blanket again. The floor didn't seem as hard this time, or maybe I just wasn't awake enough to notice. 

I noticed quickly enough when I woke up in the morning, though. My back ached, my side ached, and my neck was stiff. I got up and stretched, vowing never to do that again, then went to the window and looked out. The sleety rain seemed to have stopped, but it had added another inch or two of ice to Toyama and the traffic in the street below was a mess. The sky was still gray, too, so there was every chance we'd get some more. I let the curtain fall and looked around the living room, a little depressed by the gloominess. It didn't seem like a very promising start to the day.

That turned out to be an accurate forecast. Rowen appeared about twenty minutes later, looking less than alert, asked me what Sage and I would want to eat, then vanished into the kitchen to take care of it, casually declining my offer to help. I sighed and sat down on the floor, then got up and took the blanket and pillow back to the bedroom I'd taken them from. It took a few minutes to leave them as neatly as I wanted to, and when I got back to the living room, I found that Sage had woken and was staring around uneasily. He looked relieved to see me but it took a little reminding before he knew where we were. "I remember we were going to go there," he said quietly, referring to the Hashiba apartment, "but I don't remember getting there. Here, I mean. Just walking, and being cold. I feel okay," he added to my next question. "Stiff, but not bad. Just tired. I wish the sun was out."

Rowen added his vote to that as he came out of the kitchen with dishes in his hands and a few minutes later we were seated at the table, enjoying one of the more awkward meals I've ever had. In both senses of the word: the food was very good, and the silence at the table made me very uncomfortable. Rowen asked how Sage was doing, and didn't say another word after that. Sage replied, thanked him for all his help, then murmured something about when we should leave. I pointed out that it looked like it could snow or worse again at any second and he was tired; if it was all right with Rowen, we'd wait until the afternoon and take the later train. Rowen agreed that it was all right with a nod, and that ended the breakfast conversation. Sage didn't seem to notice or mind, but I kept having the feeling that Rowen was still pretty mad at me and the feeling only got stronger after breakfast; after we cleaned up, he disappeared back into his bedroom, leaving the living room to me and Sage. 

It was at Sage's suggestion that I started catching up on some of the schoolwork I had missed. Not that I was really in the mood for homework, but it was something to do and I didn't want to get too far behind. Not with exams looming. So I borrowed Rowen's books and some paper and sat at the dining room table to work. Sage joined me for a bit, completing some things he hadn't gotten to the day before. He told me it had been another 'lazy' day, where the teachers gave out the homework and then pretty much let the class do as they would for the rest of the time. "So naturally you did your work," I observed.

"Most of it. Made fewer books to carry. Which is important when you're walking on ice-covered sidewalks," he replied with a small smile, then bent over the History book again. He finished well before I did, of course, and went to lie down on the sofa again. I thought he'd fallen asleep, so when he suddenly sat up, I looked over quickly, thinking he'd had a bad dream. "Ryo, if it's okay with you, I'm going to go tell Rowen about the yoroiden," he said, shocking me so that I dropped the pen.

It's hard to say which surprised me more: that he wanted to tell Rowen, or that he was asking my permission.

"He deserves to know," my friend explained, seeing my amazement. "He was there-"

I flinched.

"-He went and got my armor orb for me, and he saw the Kourin sword heal me. It wouldn't be right to behave as though none of that happened and he should just forget what he saw- and did."

"You're right," I agreed. "We owe him that. Go ahead- I'm almost done with this, I'll come when I'm finished." And I turned back to the math problems.

I didn't rush- math isn't something I can rush through, not if I want my answers to be right- and I wasn't in any particular hurry anyway. Rowen and Sage might find they had other things to talk about from the previous day. But eventually I closed the last book, stacked them all neatly on the table, and went down the hall to join them. Sage was sitting on the bed, explaining some of the signs that would warn us when the Dynasty came again; Rowen was sitting at his desk, listening with an intent, if not entirely comprehending, expression. I leaned against the door-frame and waited to see whether I would need to explain the explanation or not. 

Rowen took it all quite calmly, as though he was used to having legends turn into reality every day of his life, and it wasn't until he asked, "So- that sword- it was part of your armor?" to Sage that I realized why he had looked so puzzled. He had no idea why he was being told this obscure legend, nor how it related to us. 

I still don't know how Sage managed to cover the whole legend without mentioning the simple fact that he (and I) was part of it, but once Rowen made the connection, he got very quiet and uneasy: not looking at us, fidgeting, and frowning into space a lot. He asked a few more questions about the armor, then abruptly switched to the question of our departure. I got the feeling that the whole thing had unnerved him, and I could hardly blame him for that, but the sheer suddenness made me wonder if he was wishing we would hurry up and leave. It was a depressing thought, but I couldn't blame him for that, either. If someone I knew suddenly revealed that they weren't a normal person- a space alien or something- I'd probably be uneasy around them, too. And I was a lot more used to weird stuff than Rowen was.

At any rate, we abandoned the legend for more practical things, and the first practical thing was that Sage was not going back to Date house. I did what I should have done months ago and told him he was coming home with me, permanently. 

I can still shut my eyes and see the look on his face. You would think I'd handed him the moon- or maybe the keys to an F-3 racer! 

The next practical thing was the question of Sage's belongings and whether he wanted to risk getting them from his grandfather or not. That wasn't an easy decision. Sage really did not want to go back to that house, but after some thought and a wry look at his school uniform, he decided that he was going to want his clothes, if nothing else. I suggested, sensibly enough I thought, that we could just slip in when the old creep wasn't around, but figuring out when that would be wasn't as easy as it sounded. The General had his routine, but whether he was sticking to it or not, with Sage missing, was open to question. In fact, it was open to question whether the man was back yet from wherever he'd gone; in that light, I think Sage started wishing he'd carried his things away last night or found the energy to go over in the morning. Finally we decided to try the time when the General was normally doing his own practicing; as Sage muttered, it wasn't likely he'd let his sword-work lapse over a minor detail like a missing grandson.

The final detail was one Rowen brought up: the question of how Sage was going to carry everything, and that ended with the loan of one of Rowen's suitcases. 

We were all quiet for a few minutes after that, Sage lying on the bed staring at the ceiling; me sitting on the side of the bed keeping my anger at the General in check, and Rowen in his desk-chair, apparently brooding over everything we'd told him. The only sound was a clock ticking until Rowen broke the silence to ask, "Anyone else hungry?"

"I think so, yes," Sage murmured, and I agreed. 

"All right." Rowen got up from the bed and after a brief hesitation, I followed him into the kitchen. He allowed me to help him this time, which made me hope he had gotten over his anger, and the meal was less tense (for me, anyway) than breakfast had been. After we finished, Sage lay down again, playfully reclaiming Rowen's bed. Rowen, amused, told him to 'go for it', then went back to practicing his kanji- he was getting a lot better at it, but he still had a long way to go. I sat on the floor at the end of the bed, leaning against the foot-board and looking at the bookcase full of books. All in English, of course, but I was bored enough to pull one of the easier-looking ones out to see what I could make of it. Not much, as it happened. 

I think Rowen got tired of me asking him to define words every thirty seconds or so, because after about ten minutes, he abandoned his kanji and came to sit beside me on the floor. Soon he was reading the book to me in a low voice, impressing me with his on-the-spot translation from English to Japanese. There were a few times he stumbled; his Japanese vocabulary was about fifty times better than my English one, but there were still a number of words, and especially idioms, that didn't translate very well and needed explanation. After he finished the first chapter, I suggested (having laughed louder than I meant to at one of those idioms) that perhaps we should go into the living room, so as to not disturb Sage. Rowen agreed, and a few minutes later we were sitting on the floor with our backs against the sofa, the book open in his hand. 

Don't ask me why we sat on the floor- I can only guess that it was becoming a habit by that time.

We got through two more chapters before I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. I laid my hand across the page, stopping him, and asked if he was still mad at me. Rowen looked as taken aback as I'd ever seen him.

"You do know how to be abrupt, don't you?" he observed almost admiringly. "No, I'm not mad, not now."

"I'm glad you aren't now," I said more cautiously, "but could you tell me why you were? So I don't do it again?" 

Rowen frowned, looking over at the kitchen door- or maybe at nothing- then looked up and regarded me for a moment. "It was the way you just came in and- and took charge," he said slowly. "Like, it's okay, you're here, everything's fine, you'd keep him safe, you wouldn't let him get hurt again... what was I, chopped liver? It was like I turned invisible, stopped existing- and it seemed like you were taking all the credit for helping him. You didn't get him inside and take care of him; you didn't stay with him when you wanted to go-" He stopped with a little gasp and looked away.

I had expected him to say something about being ignored, but that- I felt sick, understanding exactly how worthless I had (inadvertantly) made him feel. And the fact that it wasn't on purpose almost made it worse. Unconscious disdain is too damn honest; it tells someone they're only worth your attention when you haven't anything more important on your mind. 

"Rowen..." What in the world could I say? Well, to begin with- "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know it's not much good to say this, but I truly didn't mean to act like that, to- belittle you, to take over and act like the hero. You were the hero, you... were there. Like you said last night. I didn't understand then, but I do now. You were there, and- it was hard for you, too, wasn't it? You said that, too: walking into the room and seeing him...it must have been awful. And then everything with the orb and the sword... You had almost as bad a night as he did, and no one tried to...I didn't try to make you feel better. I was so wrapped up with Sage, I almost forgot about you." I took a long, aching breath and faced him, but he was staring at the carpet now, nodding. Impulsively, I reached over and ran the back of my finger over his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ro. I understood why you'd be jealous-" I offered. "I did give you reasons to be. But I totally didn't see how arrogant I was acting."

He sighed, closed his eyes and leaned against my shoulder. "Well, that's it, you didn't mean to be. You're not really an arrogant person. And you care about him, a lot. This ...this bond between you...now I understand why you two are so close. I really can't compete, no matter how 'fair' you guys try to be about it."

Oh, no, was my immediate thought. He's about decided he's always going to come second to Sage... "There's something maybe you should know, to help you understand why I was so cursed oblivious," I said. "Though I'd rather Sage didn't know...at least, not yet."

"Okay." Rowen looked up, more resigned than interested. 

"Well-" I braced myself, hoping this was the right thing to do. Maybe he'd just feel even more left out... "When I said I had a 'feeling' he needed me, I...I meant, I- literally."

"Literally?" he repeated.

"Yeah. It felt like-" My hand went to my stomach at the memory, the pain-

"Ryo!" Rowen's gasp made me jump. "You mean- you experienced...that? Oh, God, that hadda be terrible! And I thought I had a reason to be bugged-!"

"You did," I insisted, gripping his shoulder. "You had good reasons. The armor was connecting us somehow, but that was no excuse for me to ignore you like I did. You were the one who saved him, not me...and I didn't even ask if you were all right. You- you are, aren't you? You didn't get hurt too, did you?"

"I think he woulda preferred it to be you," Rowen mumbled, so quietly I almost didn't hear him. Then he sighed and leaned against me again; I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "Nobody hurt me," he said more clearly, but his words hung in the air: except you.

There wasn't much to say to that, so I didn't say anything, but I gave it some serious thought. Wondering how I'd feel if I thought Sage preferred Rowen to me, even after I'd done something so important for him. And for the first time, I began to have doubts about whether we could all three be friends or not. The armor was becoming more than just a secret Sage and I shared; it seemed to be creating an even deeper connection between us. One that Rowen couldn't share.

"Except me," I said at last. Might as well get it out in the open. 

Rowen glanced over at me, and to my surprise, he smiled. "You had your reasons, and you weren't being an ass on purpose...so I accept your apologies, all of 'em," he told me.

"Thank you, my friend. Sometimes I don't think about what I'm doing, how it'll affect people." I snorted and shook my head. "Sometimes I just don't think, end of the sentence," I amended.

"I've done that," Rowen said ruefully. "Anyway, thanks for explaining, I understand a lot better now. And I have to say, I sure don't envy either of you, knowin' all this. I guess... I guess bein' super-connected with someone's got about as many down-sides as up-sides. I wouldn't've wanted to be in your shoes- either of you. So, you wanna go further with this?" he added, lifting the book from where it lay beside him. 

"Sure," I said agreeably, and we got another chapter done before Rowen told me his head was going in circles from trying to think in two languages at once. We put the book aside (I think the title was something about Wrinkled Time) and Rowen made some tea. We stood in the kitchen for a while drinking it and he told me how he happened to be at the Date house the previous day and what he'd seen and heard. It was unnerving, hearing on what a thin coincidence Sage's life had hung, and I made a point of remarking on that. "And he was awful lucky there was someone with him who knew what to do. Can you just imagine what would've happened if some of the kids in our class had been there?"

Rowen grimaced. "Let's not."

"I don't know whether to ask Sage why it happened or not," I mused. "Well, I guess he'll say when he's ready to."

"Is it true the hospital wouldn't have treated him? 'Cause I was going to call emergency anyway, but I couldn't find a freakin' phone anywhere."

I made an uncertain gesture. "Depends on the hospital, the doctor, and how bad the kid's hurt. Most doctors prefer parent consent; some demand it; some don't seem to care either way. The problem is, while they were dithering around trying to get in touch with someone in authority, he would have gotten worse. So it's just as well the Kourin armor has healing abilities... I didn't know that." I scratched my head, thinking about it, and the conversation shifted into the topic of what else I did- and didn't- know about the yoroiden. 

"So you don't know what it does, only that you're supposed to master it; you don't know yet who the other three are, only that they're out there to be found; you don't know if the Demons will attack in your lifetime or not, though you do have that kinda laundry list of warnings and signs for what to expect, which may or may not be accurate. And you don't have any history to help you, only a few little mentions here and there, so you basically get to learn on the fly," Rowen summed up about half an hour later, and shook his head. "My friend, I don't think I'm ever going to be envious of you again."

"Well, we know there is going to be an attack," Sage said from the doorway. "And we know we need the other three to defeat it. We just don't know when- perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in ten years."

Rowen and I both turned, not expecting that. "Good morning, again," I said, smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Good morning at four in the afternoon," he replied in his dryly humorous way. "Yes, very well- I feel much stronger."

"Excellent. Have some ginger tea?" Rowen offered, getting down another cup. "And, you know, something to go with it wouldn't be a bad idea..."

We all agreed on that, and had a very interesting snack. I had never heard of 'Rice Crispies' before, much less tried the sticky treats made with those soft things- marshmallows, Rowen tells me- but I liked them very much. Sage, who's less fond of sweet things, preferred the cereal itself to the...cookies? Whatever they were. Fittingly, we talked about different foods while we ate. Rowen was no stranger to most traditional Japanese food, but he did think the birds' nests were pushing it, as far as edibility went. Then he enlightened us on some American foods- like why Egg Salad was called 'salad', which apparently had been preying on Sage's mind for a while- and what Jello was all about. The very popular holiday 'fruit cake' got discussed, and then, since we were speaking of holidays, Valentines and White Days came up. I'd heard that Americans didn't have White Day, which was odd, seeing that they were the ones that thought up Valentines in the first place, but I didn't get to say much about it because Sage and Rowen got into a friendly debate over whether white chocolate was really chocolate or not.

"I hate to interrupt," I finally interrupted Rowen in the middle of a passionate speech about the cacao bean, "but I think maybe we should get ready to go?"

I wished I hadn't; they both got so serious, so fast, and all the color left Sage's face. But they both nodded and for a few minutes everything was very busy: making sure the stove was off, putting the tea mugs in the sink, getting the suitcase Sage was going to use, pulling on coats and gloves, locking the door. A few minutes later we were out in the dark, crowded street, hurrying down the salted sidewalk towards the General's house. I went first, pushing a way through the people and warning my friends of the ice-slicks on the pavement. Sage walked behind me and Rowen pulled the suitcase behind him on its wheels. 

It seemed strange to remember how intimidated I'd been the first time I'd come into Toyama; after a few months attending Hanai, the crowded city seemed everyday. But I still didn't like it very much, and I was glad not to live there. I hoped Sage would feel similarly after a few months in my little village- that is, on the edge of it. But first, of course, we had to get there, and the General... well, I wasn't afraid of him, I told myself, and I sure wasn't going to let him stop us. But there was a little tremor in my stomach, a little tingle twitching along my nerves. I wasn't afraid of him, not that rotten old man who liked to hurt people, but that was the problem: he liked to hurt people. I reminded myself firmly that I was furious at the man and wouldn't pass up a chance to hurt him back. What we were doing was right, even if it was a bit risky. Of course it would be simpler if he wasn't there, and it would be much easier on Sage that way, too, but I had nothing to worry about. And if the brute was there, well, that was that and we'd just handle it. He couldn't stop us.

Funny how my nerves didn't quite seem to believe me, though. This wasn't going to be some ritual challenge, I had no weapon and no chance of getting one, and we would be facing a very dishonorable man. So I told myself it couldn't be any worse than facing a demon. It didn't help much, and my heart was beating a good bit faster than it should have by the time we reached the cedar-lined driveway. I paused at the edge of the gravel for a moment and looked for any hint of a light at the top of the hill. Sage paused on my right; lit by the dim streetlight, his breath made little clouds in the cold night air. Rowen stopped on my left, under the shadows of the trees, and the grating noise of the suitcase wheels died away. A cold little wind made the ice-covered trees creak and groan; Rowen glanced up and moved a little closer to me. 

I didn't see any light, which was encouraging, and feeling a little more confident, I led the way up the sloping driveway. We tried to walk quietly, but it was no use; if the ice wasn't creaking and crackling under our footsteps, the gravel was grating and crunching. Rowen quickly discovered that trying to roll the suitcase was nearly impossible, not to mention appallingly noisy, so he picked it up and carried it. As we passed the garage I noticed that the door was closed; that made me wonder if the General's car was in there or not, but I didn't feel like trying to open the door and look. Anyway, all the lights, inside and out, were off, so that was a good sign. 

When I got to the top of the driveway, I stopped, partly to catch my breath and partly to try and remember where the doors were. Sage, panting, came up beside me and tugged on the sleeve of my coat. I followed him over to a side door, Rowen on my heels. More or less literally; he almost took my shoe off by accident. "We can use this one," Sage murmured as we stopped on the brick stoop, his voice tight with tension. "There's no alarm on it." He brought out a set of keys from his coat pocket and, fumbling a little, leaned over to unlock the door. Then he straightened up. For a moment, we stood there in the moonlight, looking warily at the door; finally I took deep breath, reached out, and twisted the knob. The door swung easily open and I stepped inside, leaving my shoes on and boldly flipping on the light switch that I found on the wall. (That wasn't entirely defiance; climbing stairs in the dark can be risky.) We hurried through the kitchen, up the stairs to the main entry, past the blinking alarm panel on the wall beside the doors- and then up the next flight of steps and through the silk curtain to the living room. 

Sage marched right through the room as if it didn't exist, but I slowed down to take a better look; I'd hardly seen any of it the night before, being in such a hurry, and I was curious. I quickly decided I didn't like it at all. Traditionally, Japanese homes are pretty simple, but there are ways to demonstrate wealth and luxury, and that had been done here. Silk, rare woods, expensive vases- it was more like a museum than a place to live. But that wasn't what made my neck prickle; it was the feel of the place. Coldly proper at best, ruthlessly unkind at worst, it had no warmth to it, nothing inviting or welcoming. The General's energy filled- dominated- every corner, and it was enough to stifle anyone else who had the misfortune to enter there. Behind me, Rowen made a sort of half-whistle, half-snort, and muttered, "What a show-off." I nodded and hurried to catch up with Sage, who was already at the top of the third flight of steps.

Sage's room was a complete contrast to the luxurious downstairs and I could see right away why he said there wasn't much to bring. I'd never seen a room that made me think so much of a monk's cell before. The only things that were at all decorative were the wooden flute that lay on the top shelf of the little bookcase, and the rather sick-looking bonsai in a plain bowl beside it. Sage ignored those and went straight to his dresser, taking neatly folded sweaters and pants from the drawers and laying them in the suitcase Rowen opened across the futon. I noticed his hands trembling and, touching his shoulder, asked if we could help. The sooner we were out of there, the better we'd all feel.

"My bag's in the closet, on the floor," he replied, his voice hushed. I didn't blame him, it almost did feel as if the house was listening. "All I really want is a couple of the books..."

"The flute?"

"Absolutely not," my friend replied grimly. "In fact, if you feel like breaking anything, that flute would be a perfect start."

Rowen and I glanced at each other; Rowen shrugged and opened the closet door, pulling the dirty-white bag out of a corner. "Shoes?" he suggested in a subdued voice.

"Just the sneakers. I've got my school shoes."

"Better bring boots, too," I advised, seeing a pair. "The snow's still knee-deep in Azu." 

"Oh, right. Maybe I should wear them..." Sage paused to look over at the closet. "Oh, and the sweatshirts, please." Rowen obligingly pulled the five or six sweatshirts and a few sweaters off their hangers as I lifted out the black boots. It felt odd, handling someone else's possessions, but he had given permission.

"You pick your books," Rowen advised, dodging past me to the bed. "I can fold these."

Sage gave him a grateful look and went to kneel beside the bookcase. I laid the boots on the bed and asked if there was anything he needed from the shower- a slightly embarrassing question, but I wanted us out of there, fast. Sage, distracted, shook his head. "Everything's on the dresser-top," he said, plucking a book from the shelf and running his finger down the rest. Another followed- two out of about thirty on that shelf. I went over to the dresser and swiftly gathered up the things there, things normally kept in bathroom cabinets, and wondered if his brute of a grandfather even denied him that or if it was his own preference. I held on to the question for later and arranged the stuff along the sides of the suitcase as Rowen placed the last sweater on top, then tucked the boots in at the side. Even with those, the thing was barely half full. 

"Nothing else, Sage?"

"Thanks, no. I'm almost done here..." He had moved to the desk and was opening and closing the drawers swiftly, dropping this and that into the bag at his feet. 

It was as he reached down to the last drawer that we heard it: the creaking of the stairs.

Rowen turned sharply, the suitcase partly zipped; Sage straightened up with a gasp, going deathly white. I swore softly and took a step towards the closed bedroom door-

Which swung open, pushed by the hand of the General.

I still don't know if he was there the whole time or if we just hadn't heard him drive up, but it was not too important right then.

For a moment, he seemed almost as surprised to see us as we were to see him. Then he focused on me and his eyes- his whole face- changed from shocked to coldly furious. "You!" he snarled. "How dare you set foot in this house? How dare you disrespect me? And teaching that brat to disobey and defy me as well- I ordered him to have nothing to do with you, and I see how well he has obeyed me!" He took a step towards me and my hands clenched, fear falling before red rage-

"Respect," Rowen observed coolly from beside me, "is something that is earned, not blindly given."

The General's head turned sharply to him and there was a heartbeat of silence. "Who-" he asked acidly, "or what- are you? And how do you come to be in my home?"

"Afraid I'm not into philosophy, so I can't answer the first," was Rowen's sassy reply. "As to being here, well, we kinda invited ourselves in. But don't worry, we'll be out of your hair in a little while."

I took advantage of the General's shift in attention to softly step between him and Sage, and felt Sage's hand, light but cold, against my back. 

"Oh yes," Date was saying in threatening tones. "You'll be gone in no time, for if you do not depart this house immediately, you will share the punishment coming to that one." He gestured, turning to look at Sage again, and scowled when he saw me in the way. 

"There has been too much punishment," I told him grimly, "and there will be no more. Sage is leaving with us and you will never, ever lay so much as an eye on him again! That should please you, since you can't stand the sight of him anyway," I added bitterly. 

"You little bastard!" the General bellowed, jolting me. "Do you dare to dictate to me in my own home?! I am master here!" He stepped towards me and I felt myself tense, ready-

"You're not even master of your own temper," Rowen observed, halting the General in midstep. I glanced over at my friend and saw him standing, the picture of indifference, his arms folded on his chest and a derisive smirk on his face. "So much for the great general and his incredible reputation."

Date stood still for a moment and a weird silence fell. He didn't turn, didn't speak, but his expression was murderous and his hands twitched. Then, abruptly, he spun and charged out of the room. His footsteps pounded down the hall, and a door slammed. 

I slowly straightened up and Sage's trembling hand left my back. The room- the whole house- was oddly quiet, but it was a waiting kind of quiet. "Let's get out of here," I muttered, and bent to pick up Sage's bag. Sage, white and shaking, fumbled with the zipper as Rowen turned back to the bed and the suitcase lying there. I heard the thump as he pulled it down to the floor, a crisp click as he locked it-

It happened so suddenly, I hardly remember it. Rowen suddenly yelled, a wordless shout of fear. I spun, saw him tumble to the floor, knocked aside by the General's outstretched arm-

And saw the longsword that was descending from the General's overhand swing.

I flung both arms up over my head; light flared blindingly; there was a deafening clang and the ringing clatter of metal on wood, somehow small and repeated. I opened my eyes, blinked, and saw white and red. There was a little glowing spot on the red arm-guard of my under-gear, a spot that quickly faded, leaving neither a dent nor a scratch. I lowered my arms, taking in the General's stunned face in the process. He was staring at the floor, and I felt a moment's surprise myself as I looked down. His sword had shattered. Not merely broken or chipped: it was lying all over the floor in about a dozen little pieces. Even the hilt had cracked in two, and the General was clutching his sword-hand to his chest. I noticed in passing that I was completely wrapped in the gear, not just my arms, and decided to do something about that. Lifting my hands again, I summoned the full armor. 

I have never been so glad to get my hands on a sword as I was when I pulled the wildfire katana from my back and pointed them at that cruel old man. But even as I did, I knew I must not kill him. They were jin, and I was jin, and jin was not revenge. If I killed him- even if I dueled him and won and executed him- it would reduce me to his level.

Still, that didn't mean I couldn't throw a scare into him. I took several steps towards him, and the incredulous fear in his face was really a very satisfying sight. It was high time someone intimidated him for a change. 

But it didn't work that way.

"Rekka...?" 

I more or less froze, eyes widening. He recognized me? 

"The legends are true," the old man whispered, and slowly dropped to one knee. "My lord Rekka...forgive me. I might have guessed. Such skill, so young- it could only be a Yoroiden warrior. What an honor, my lord- you honor my house and my humble self."

"You know the legends," I said slowly, still stunned. Was that all- he knew the legends? Or was he one of the other armor bearers himself? No, that was unthinkable!

"I know the legends and honor them, young lord," he responded almost indignantly, as if I should have known. "But...Lord Rekka, I do not understand. What could one so exalted as yourself gain from an association with such an unworthy as the son of my daughter?" Which was just his more polite way of asking why I was meddling in his family affairs. "I would not think to oppose the will of such a personage," he went on quickly. "But surely no ordinary mortal could be worth expending your strength for. Surely there are higher matters for you to consider than one lowly family."

"You know the legends, so you know the duty of the Ronin is to guard the world from evil," I told him, now disgusted as well as angry. "And the world is made up of 'lowly families'. The 'son of your daughter', however 'unworthy' you've decided he is, is my friend. He is leaving this hell-house of yours, now. Unless, of course, you still want to object?"

The old man stared at me for a moment, looked down at the floor, and shook his head, sighing. He got up- stiffly- and straightened his rumpled slacks. "Take him, Rekka," he said softly. "Take him where you will; I will not be held responsible." 

"No one asked you to be," I muttered, sheathing the katana. "In fact, that was the heart of the problem- your definition of responsible." I turned to Sage, who was staring at his grandfather with eyes that looked ready to fall out of his head. "Ikso, niichan," I told him, and wondered, as he picked up his bag, whether he'd make it to the train station without collapsing from shock. Seeing old Date down on his knees and fawning like a whipped dog had to be a sign of the end of the world...

"Alas," Date sighed as Rowen- also looking quite shocked and very much minus his air of indifference- got to his feet and walked towards the door. I started after him, ignoring the General. "Alas for our world..." I heard him hiss. "The legends have come, and look, they are only insolent children..."

I rolled my eyes, thinking that he should save an 'alas' or two for himself; he was the one who'd knelt down to the insolent children. Sage, however, didn't seem to see it that way, for he tensed beside me for a moment, then stopped and planted his feet.

"You old fiend," he said, in a low, grim voice. "You will not speak like that."

"Skilled with a sword, he may be, but he will never be the figure of legend, the disciplined warrior-"

"Shut up!" Sage shouted, and I turned in alarm to see his face flush with anger. "You know nothing-"

"I know the Ronin are doomed, with this one in the ranks. I honor the legend and the armor, but I have little use for the one who wears it," the General said coldly. 

"You-" Sage hissed, using the most denigrating form of the word that exists in our language. "That's right, you have no use for any of us who bear the armor." He yanked his hand from his pocket and held it out, the Kourin sphere on his palm. Green light flickered through the room as the General gasped and fell back a step. "Now you see," Sage said icily. "Now you see why my lowly self is of some importance to the Lord Rekka. Now you see why he removes me from harm! Why he meddles with this disgrace of a family! Keep your 'alas' for yourself; it was you, you who drove me away! You who love your status, look what leaves your house today!" 

Green light shimmered, flared; Sage called out- and Kourin stood beside me, unsheathing the longsword from his back and holding it out for the General to see. "I needed a teacher," he spat. "A teacher worthy of this blade. You and your challenge dance-!"

Date stood as if glued to the floor, his gaze drifting from the magnificent sword to the green armor and back. "I didn't know," he whispered, his eyes wide. "I didn't know... you never said..."

"I should tell you?" my friend snapped. "I should risk you trying to take it from me? Claiming it as your own, perhaps?" 

The old man looked away, guiltily. "Seiji," he began; "my grandson-"

Sage almost leaped forward, yanking off the helmet, his face inches from the General's. "Do not speak that name," he growled. "That one, that Date Seiji- he is dead. He died at your hands, in your practice room, after the beating you gave him. Bloodloss alone would have killed him, but the cold was quicker. You have no grandson- you murdered him. He is gone forever. I-" He paused, lifting his head. "I am Sage. I am the bearer of Kourin. I am no kin to you, old killer. I deny you utterly; I take my life out of your hands and your house and place it in my master Rekka's. Live a long time, old one," he finished in a scorching whisper. "Live long and remember your shame well!" And with that said, he shoved past the General, brushed by Rowen, and stormed down the hall, his metal boots leaving scratches on the polished wooden floor.

I was so proud of him, I couldn't speak. I simply picked up the bag he'd left, nodded at Rowen, and followed my awed friend past the gray-faced General and down to the front door. It was time to go home.