Disclaimers: See Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4. Nothing’s changed. ^_^

Warnings: I guess it gets kinda angsty in parts. I don’t know if that’s a good warning, but I was compelled to write something.

Notes: Dude!!! Thinking of the chapter titles is really freakin hard!!! ~.^;; I’m sure I’m not alone on this.

Rishun stood in the middle of the burning village, watching the destruction that he had caused, the power he held in full effect. There were only a few men who had been left alive: the strong ones, the ones who were too big and too stupid to do anything but obey him. As much as he loathed the idea of letting the infidels live, if he were to succeed in his goal, he needed much more than a simple group of bandits. He needed an army. Easily controlled. Unbeatable.

When he had made the necessary threats to the survivors and had them taken away, two of his "commanders" approached him tentatively. Between them, they held a huge, muscular boy of seventeen or so, with a shock of blue-gray hair; given the size of the lad, he thought he could easily have escaped if he’d wanted.

"And who’s this?" Rishun asked in his quiet, almost lilting voice.

"We found him lurking back behind the camp, Sir," said Ugou. "Don’t know who he is."

The rebel bandit turned black eyes to the young face, a silent order to explain himself.

"I heard rumors that you needed men, is all," said the boy indignantly. "I’m sick of being a freakin farmer. I wanna fight. With you."

"For me," Rishun corrected. "From what land do you hail, boy?"

The young man looked confused at the question. "From Kutou, Sir."

"Kutou. A child of the war."

A small nod was his answer.

"Release his arms; it’s pointless, anyway," Rishun ordered, and was obeyed. He turned his attention back to his ‘visitor.’ "It is good that you come from Kutou. We are of a kind, you and I. Of a race. We have been slighted; beaten, like animals. But soon, they will know how very powerful we are."

"I hope so, sir," said the boy with malice.

Hmm. A bloodthirsty one. All the better.

"Good," said Rishun, laughing slightly under his breath. "Good."

~*~

He had joined the Mt. Reikaku Bandits because of a debt. A debt he could never hope to repay.

And now, the chance to atone for the smallest of his crimes had finally come. He would be useful. He would prove to the world—and to himself—that he was penitent, that he had changed; somehow, he would try to replace all the evil he had done with good.

But it would not change what he had done. He knew that, and it tore into him like a wire cord around his neck.

At the sight of the carnage done by Rishun and his men, Shi felt almost violently ill. He could never do this, could never cause so much pain…and yet, as a ‘soldier,’ it would be expected of him. And he couldn’t ignore it. Too much rested on him playing the part, becoming the angry, abused killer that Rishun thought he was. In truth, he deserved it; he could think of nothing worse, and nothing more fitting, for a punishment.

Forced to kill against my will to repent having killed in cold blood, he thought bitterly. The fates love irony.

He hadn’t lied about coming from Kutou, though the question had thrown him off guard, and he had considered claiming Hokkan or Konan as his birthplace as a shield to his true identity. Knowing now a bit more of the reasoning behind Rishun’s murderous behavior, he was glad he’d opted for the truth. The reasons themselves, however, did nothing to ease his worries.

Kutou’s citizens as a superior race, huh? Shi clenched his teeth grimly. This could be worse than we thought…he’s not playing around.

That night, his first night as a Redeemer (for that was what the men called themselves), he dug a hole secretly in the ground. In it, he placed a roll of parchment inscribed with what he’d learned; the Mt. Reikaku bandits had their own special code, which had proved very useful in the past, but had never been used for a purpose quite as important as this. He covered the hole carefully with a smooth, gray rock, flanked on two sides by twigs, for Asaku and the scouting party to find.

Finding it was easy, if you knew what you were looking for.

~*~

"But, why must you go?" the emperor asked. "I don’t understand. Don’t you like it here?"

"Of course! Of course," said Shunshuu quickly. "But I…I just have to go away for a while. I’ll come back, I promise I will."

Boushin sighed. "You’re like my brother, you know…even before my mother… I don’t know how I could have survived without you. I would have been so lonely."

The two boys hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours, not since Shunshuu’s mother—a lady of the court—had died, and the Imperial Mother Houki-sama had taken him as one of her own. That had been nearly five years ago.

"What will I tell Mother?"

Shunshuu shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain anything. I feel like someone, or something, is calling me…and I can’t just pretend I don’t hear it."

Large, gold eyes regarded him sadly.

"I’ll come back, Boushin-sama," the younger boy repeated. "As soon as I do whatever it is I need to do."

Boushin sighed. "I wish I could come with you. It seems like I never get to leave the palace anymore. How can I make important decisions without you there? You’ve always been so much smarter than me."

"You’ll be fine," Shunshuu assured him with a smile. "You’re just as smart as I am. You know what you’re doing. I have faith in you."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the child emperor returned the smile. "And I have faith in you," he said softly. "Be careful, Shunshuu-kun."

~*~

The small house in Kutou was as chipped and unkempt as the others, but somehow, it radiated a glow of comfort. Chichiri had put tea on to boil, and the whole room smelled of ginger.

It had taken a while before the monk could bring himself to speak to the two children, so familiar in their looks and mannerisms. So the four sipped their tea in silence; just as Tasuki was about to swat his old friend on the head and tell him to say something, already, Chichiri raised his eyes and smiled.

"So, no da…" he cleared his throat. "You two are from Konan, no da?"

Horyuu and Kentoku both nodded, looking exhausted.

"Is your name really Chichiri?" said Horyuu sleepily.

"Ahh…why yes, no da." Chichiri raised an eyebrow at Tasuki, who shrugged. "I’m surprised Tasuki didn’t explain everything, na no da."

That earned him a scowl from the red-haired bandit.

"He said your name was Chichiri, and that no one called him Tasuki, but we could pretend he was the real Tasuki…Can we pretend…you’re the real………"

"Horyuu, are you tired, no da?" the monk asked.

"He’s asleep, Wise One," Tasuki remarked.

The purple-haired boy was out cold, his head half on the table and half pillowed on Kentoku’s arm. Kentoku himself was blinking rapidly, trying to stay awake.

"Shouldn’t have started this so late, no da," Chichiri sighed, rising from his seat. "Come on, Tasuki-kun; let’s get them to bed, no da."

Tasuki carried the sleeping Horyuu to the tiny bedroom and deposited him gently onto the bed; Kentoku followed groggily and climbed in beside his friend. The monk and the bandit stood by and watched them for a good ten minutes, both fascinated and almost tearfully sentimental.

"Well," Tasuki said finally, breaking the silence, "it only took ten freakin years and a reincarnation, but the two of them are finally sleepin together."

Chichiri gave his friend a look.

Eyes wide, the bandit adopted an innocent expression. "What?"

"Tasuki, no da…" The monk sighed and shook his head, but in the end, he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. "Let’s go back out there, and we can talk, no da."

Smiling, scratching the back of his neck, Tasuki followed Chichiri out of the bedroom. "I thought it was a pretty appropriate joke…Nuriko would’ve…"

"Shut up, Tasuki, na no da."

~*~

In the cold, bare sleeping room of the Kutou Orphanage, Gen’ei lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. Not that it was anything new. When he did sleep, he had the most awful nightmares…he had often thought that he’d rather be dead, than to continue on like this.

Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes, running down into the curves of his ears.

He closed his eyes and shivered, and wondered if he were the only one.

TBC…

Notes: Sorry for the conglomerate style recently. It’ll be easier when everyone comes together! (insert Beatles song/Aerosmith remake here) And wow, this story’s really running away with me. It was only supposed to be, um…maybe two chapters? Tasuki was gonna find Nuriko and Hotohori as kids, and that’s all. Now it’s going all epic adventurey. [!!!] But I’m glad you guys seem to like it. ^_^

Advice of the Day: If, by some fluke, you ever have to write a German essay about music, do not do it at one o’clock in the morning. Somewhere along the line I found myself trying to translate ‘Modern Major General’ (from ‘The Pirates of Penzance’) into German. It was an interesting tangent, but in the end, rather difficult and pointless. ~.^;;