Disclaimer: Lalalala…don’t own nothing…lalalala….

Warnings: Okay, I wrote this when I was pretty darn tired, so I’m sorry if the word choice is repetitive, or I slip out of bandit dialect in favor of words that actually end with ‘ing,’ etc….I just had to get it down before it was lost forever in the disorganized filing cabinet I like to call my mind. ^_^

Other Warnings: Traumatic pasts, crying, and psychotic babbling. ~.^;;

"Horyuu’s a boy!" Tasuki exclaimed wildly, giggling slightly. "Purple hair… mole…dressed up as a girl…but…heh…no! Horyuu’s a boy! Horyuu’s a boy!!"

"Ya might wanna take a nap, or somethin," Kouji mumbled. The two of them had made a hasty retreat to Kouji’s room, leaving the two children with brief instructions to go see Kai about some clothes.

"It’s them! I know it’s them! Aren’t I right?? Isn’t it them?? You see it too, right?? Or am I going crazy??"

"I see it," Kouji assured him. "You’re not seein things, but ya look like yer goin crazy just the same."

"Well, can ya @*!!*% blame me??!!"

His friend sighed. He had always been the quicker to adjust to things. "So what does this change, huh, Genrou? They’re yer dead friends, born again. What’s it change?"

Tasuki shook his head. "I dunno," he said finally, softly. "I dunno. It shouldn’t change anything, ya know. But somehow, it changes everything." He sat backward on a chair, arms folded upon the back, and rested his chin upon his arms.

The blue-haired bandit watched him sit, staring off at some spot on the worn wooden floor, uncharacteristically pensive. He was about to say something to break the strange silence, when the other man beat him to it.

"Do they even remember who they were?! I mean, are they completely clueless… or do they have some kinda, you know, crazy memories, like Tamahome did… What if they’ve grown up hearin stories about themselves, and they don’t know it’s themselves they’re hearin about? Wouldn’t that be…weird?? Of course, they wouldn’t know it was weird, if they don’t know they’re them…gahhh! My head hurts!" He buried his nose in the crook of his elbow.

"Ya might, you know…ask them," Kouji suggested.

"I can’t do that!" The red head shot up, the pale brown eyes aghast. "How the hell would that sound?! ‘Hey, kid, you wouldn’t by any chance have memories of a past life in which you were killed by a giant wolf creature or a freakin evil blonde guy, would ya? I’m just askin, cuz, ya know, I chummed around with ya until you died…’"

"Well then," said Kouji rationally, "why don’t you just wait and see what comes of it? Maybe it’ll come up, one way or another…"

"But it’s freakin drivin me nuts, Kouji!" Tasuki exclaimed. "I wanna ask them all these questions…" Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. "I have to find Chichiri; that’s what I have to do! That’s what I’ll do! Find Chichiri…"

As Tasuki bustled around the room, muttering incoherent plans to himself, Kouji slipped outside to see if the children who were causing so much unintended emotional drama had managed to take care of themselves. He spotted Asaku over by the wall, his arm well-bandaged, and headed over.

"How’s the arm?" he asked nonchalantly.

Asaku looked up briefly, then gazed back out into the forest. "Better, thank you."

"Any news of Rishun?"

The young man shook his head.

"Hn. Figures." Kouji ran a hand through his hair. "Bastard knows better than to show his face here again. When we find him…"

"He wants to form his own band."

"What?" Kouji blinked. "What…"

"He’s been planning it for a while, I guess," Asaku continued, still not meeting the other man’s eyes. "He used to joke about it, but we all, well, we just thought it was a joke, ya know, because Genrou wasn’t so bloodthirsty…He only had a few guys who went around with him—you know the ones, mostly the big, dumb ones—but they were enough, huh. I guess a couple big, dumb guys can do an awful lot of damage."

He’s forming his own band. Kouji’s lips tightened. A band that kills as well as pillages…If what the boy said was true, then it wouldn’t be difficult to find Rishun again: they simply had to follow the trail of destruction. The trick was to find him and stop him before that destruction could occur…which was considerably trickier.

"Thanks," he said seriously, clapping a friendly hand on Asaku’s good shoulder. "Thanks. If anything else comes up, come right to me or Genrou, right?"

Asaku nodded.

A thousand problems whirling around in his mind like a miniature cyclone, Kouji headed off once more. He’d have to talk to Genrou about this…how long would it take before that psychopath Rishun recruited enough brutes to trample the entire country?! They should send scouts out…not a large group, just enough to catch a glimpse of what was happening without making it an all-out war…maybe a spy. Yes. A spy! A spy could…

"Nooooooo!!! I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!! I don’t have to wear it anymore! I don’t have to be her anymore! They promised! They promised!!"

Startled out of his thoughts by the scream, he recognized its source as a small, slight, purple-haired form clad only in a yellow shirt that fit like a circus tent, running blindly in his direction and emitting painful, hitching sobs. Kouji reached out his arm and snagged Horyuu—Nuriko, it’s Nuriko—as he passed.

"Nuh…Horyuu!" he said, his voice gentle, but loud to be heard over the tears. "Horyuu, what’s the matter?"

The boy wrenched out of his grasp with surprising strength. "Don’t!"

Kouji stared at him helplessly. The child’s hair was mussed, his eyes wild and red; the overlarge shirt had slipped down one of the heaving shoulders, revealing a jutting clavicle. Damn it; I don’t know how to deal with a kid!! He was relieved to hear footsteps approaching at a run, and exhaled slowly as Kai and the other boy, Kentoku, reached his side.

"Horyuu, it’s all right," Kentoku panted, "it’s all right, he didn’t know…he didn’t know, Horyuu!"

"What the hell is going on?" Kouji demanded, bewildered.

Poor Kai was equally baffled. "I just…I tried to give her clothes! That’s all I did, I swear! And she went crazy!"

"Mm-hmm…what did you give him to wear?"

"A…skirt…" the young man said slowly, the masculine pronoun registering at last. "From one of Shiha’s girl…friends…what, it’s a boy?"

"No one told you?"

"I’m not gonna wear a skirt!" Horyuu wailed hysterically. "I won’t! They can’t make me, they’re dead! They’re dead! I’m a boy!" He began sobbing hard, looking up at Kouji with angry, desperate, pleading eyes. "I’m a boy! I’m…I’m…"

"Oi, kiddo," came a strangely soft voice.

Four heads turned to see Tasuki standing nearby, on his face an expression of almost aching compassion.

"I know," said the red-haired bandit leader carefully. "Horyuu. I know you’re a boy. We all know. We won’t make you be something you’re not."

Ragged breaths slowing, the child stared up into his eyes, as if searching for some physical sign of the promise. When he was satisfied that Tasuki was in earnest, he launched himself with a small hiccup into the protection of the now kneeling man’s arms. Tasuki clutched him close, once again staring at the floor a few feet in front of him, dazedly, as if it held some sort of weird fascination for him.

At Kouji’s side, Kentoku let out a weary sigh. As he caught Kouji’s puzzled expression, he drew himself up like a miniature emperor—but he WAS the Emperor, Kouji’s mind cried, he WAS—and regarded his benefactor with aged, golden eyes. "It was his parents," he confided, ever so softly, so that even Kouji could just barely hear him. "His sister died… they loved her so much…they made him…be her." He searched the bandit’s face for understanding, clear in his shaky explanation that he had not spoken of this much before. Maybe not ever.

An awful twisting of the past. Kouji gave the boy a slight, serious nod, and ruffled the long, brown hair. This is rebirth…we can’t escape our pasts…who we were… what we were…Even when our lives are different…is everything destined to be the same?

"Kouji-san," breathed Kai from behind him, "I am…I am so sorry…he didn’t say anything…I just…assumed…"

"It’s all right," Kouji assured him. "It’s all right; an honest mistake. Eh…why don’t you make sure, though, that all the gang knows, huh? Save us another…scene…like this."

Kai nodded, still looking miserable, and went off, apparently to spread the word.

~*~

"I’m going to find Chichiri," said Tasuki when he and Kouji were alone again. "I’m going to find Chichiri, and I’m takin the kids."

Despite his friend’s previous rambling, Kouji was slightly shocked. "What, you mean you’re…you’re just leaving? With Rishun and whoever else all going berserk on us, you’re leaving?"

"Damn it, Kouji," Tasuki cursed, but his tone was tired, not biting. "I can’t deal with both these things at once. I…I can’t stop thinkin about Nuriko and Hotohori and… these kids. So if I leave…if I put you in charge of the band…" He stepped up to the slightly taller man, meeting him eye to eye. "Can you do it?"

Could he do it? He remembered the village of Sarasshi, the burned homes, the scattered corpses…he hadn’t been there when they had been slain, but he could hear their screams nevertheless…

Kouji set his jaw, gave a firm nod. "Yes. I can do it."

TBC…

Note to self: **shakes head** Whoah…his parents made him…**shakes head again** That’s…like…messed up!! And you used to be such a happy, sappy, light-and-cheerful-character girl… ~.^;;