Disclaimers: You know the drill.

Warnings: None. (Gah!!) Ooh, wait, I have one: Beware of Stupid Chapter Title!!! Also: drama drama drama. Ist das gut? Schlecht? Wenn man Drama liebt, liebt man dieses Kapitel. Mental note: I should really watch Weiß Kreuz. When the heck does it come out on video, anyway? (Okay…that was random. I guess I panicked because I didn’t have enough to write under ‘Warnings.’ Tsk, tsk, tsk.)

Last Minute Note: I have 100 reviews!!!!!!!!!! Altogether, that is. ^_^ ^_^ ^_^ ^_^ **dance, dance, dance** Woo-hoo!!! Thank you, everybody! **dance, dance, dance** **falls asleep at computer** **snores**

"You didn’t tell them, no da," said Chichiri, sitting back down at the wooden table.

Tasuki was more than a bit annoyed. "No, I didn’t tell ‘em! I didn’t freakin tell ‘em! For your information, I wanted to get your opinion before doin something that could mess them up in the head! What, ya think I took a fieldtrip all the way out here in the middle of a possible bandit war just for the hell of it?!"

"I wasn’t accusing you of anything, na no da," his friend sighed, rolling his eyes. "I just wanted to make sure, no da." Bandit war?…No, not now…later. I’ll ask him about that later.

The younger man collapsed on the bench, holding his head up with both hands. "Sorry…It’s just…"

"It’s a lot to deal with," Chichiri said sympathetically. "I understand, no da. You’re sure it’s them?"

Tasuki nodded. "It’s eerie. Almost like it would’ve been if I’d known them as kids. And there’re things that stayed the same…Nur…Horyuu’s parents made him dress up as his sister when she died, this time. Which reminds me…he is a boy. Just in case there was any question about it."

"They made him…?" Chichiri shook his head. "That’s messed up, no da."

"Thanks for clearin that up, pal."

"And they don’t know who you really are, either?"

"Nope. Again, I wanted to check things out with you first." Tasuki lay his chin on his hands. "Ya think we should tell ‘em?"

The monk frowned at the table. "It’s a delicate question, no da…"

"Think they’d remember, if we prodded them a little? Horyuu called me Tasuki. On the way here. I yelled at him for not rememberin ‘Genrou,’ and he said, ‘It feels weird to call ya Genrou; it doesn’t fit ya, Tasuki.’ Said it was because his parents saw ‘The Real Tasuki’ back during the war, and I looked like their description of me…but I can’t help but think it could be more than that. They don’t know they remember, but they might on some sort of subconscious level…"

"That wouldn’t be irregular, no da…" Chichiri began, but trailed off. "Did you just say ‘subconscious,’ no da?"

Tasuki glowered. "NO!"

"You did, no da!!"

"NO!! I’m a bandit!! Bandits don’t use big words!"

Chichiri grinned evilly. "You’re a smart bandit, na no da!!"

"Dammit…shut up!!"

They were suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door.

Tasuki’s eyes widened, and he stared at his friend, an unspoken question. But Chichiri was just as surprised as he was. Slowly, he got up, moved to the door, and put a hand on the knob; Tasuki followed briskly, standing defensively beside the monk.

"What are you doing, no da? I’m sure it’s all right," Chichiri hissed.

"It’s after midnight!" Tasuki protested, refusing to back up. "Can’t be too safe, even when yer you."

Shaking his head, the older man opened the door, and was astounded by what stood before him.

"G-Gen’ei?"

~*~

The boy trembled with the chill of night, and looked visibly startled upon seeing another man in the house behind his teacher. He took a small step backward. "S-sorry," he whispered. "S-sorry, I’ll…I’ll come back a different time…"

"No, Gen’ei…wait, no da," Chichiri insisted, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm. "It’s all right." How did he get out of the orphanage?…Well, that’s not important now; what’s important is WHY he came here. "Come inside…you’re freezing, na no da; would you like some tea?"

Gen’ei shook his head, but walked carefully into the small house, keeping wary eyes on Tasuki. The red-haired man, aware that he was making the child uncomfortable, mumbled something about checking on the kids and left the room.

"What’s wrong?" Chichiri asked solemnly as he settled his student in a chair.

The boy sat there rigidly, playing with his hands. "I…I couldn’t sleep."

But there’s more to it than that. "Does this happen a lot?"

A nod.

"Why did you come to see me, no da?" The monk tried hard to keep his voice as unthreatening as possible, feeling as though his visitor would bolt in an instant if confronted. "It’s a long way from the Home, no da."

Taking a deep breath, Gen’ei closed his eyes. "Because…you’re the only one who can help me."

"…What can I help you do?"

After a slight pause, he replied faintly: "Tell me what I have to do…tell me how I can stop being evil."

"Gen’ei," breathed Chichiri, kneeling before the boy. "I don’t know what gave you this idea, no da. But you are not evil, na no da. No one as young as you can be evil."

The small lips tightened in pain. "I am. I was. That’s why I see things, things I did…horrible things…and I know I remember them for a reason, and I know I have to make up for them somehow. And that’s why I need you."

At a loss, Chichiri could only study the boy’s pale features in puzzlement, the thin, childish face that held on to control with no more than a silken thread. "Why me?" he whispered finally.

Silence.

Then, Gen’ei lifted his eyes slowly, with an almost poignant grace, and stared straight into those of his teacher. "I know who you are, Sensei," he said quietly.

~*~

Chichiri felt some of the color drain from his face at the words. Since coming to Kutou, he had assumed his real name—Ri Houjun—and had said nothing of his connections with the Suzaku Shichiseishi; to do so, he had believed, would perhaps have stained his reputation in the city, brought him unwelcome attention. All he had wanted to do was to help the children who had suffered, and to do that, he did not need recognition. And the last thing Kutou probably wanted would be a famous Konan warrior "stooping" to help its citizens; no, they would want to prove they could take care of their own after the crisis, however incapable they actually were. So he hadn’t told anyone about himself. No one at all.

But the boy…the boy…

"Chichiri, Suzaku no Shichiseishi," Gen’ei whispered brokenly, lower lip trembling against his will, "help me. Please. Tell me what I have to do."

And suddenly, it dawned on him.

"Who are you? Who were you?" the monk murmured, taking the small hands in his own so the child would know he was trying to help. He’s remembering a past life… he MUST be! But WHY?? Why does he remember, when Horyuu and Kentoku do not?! Who was he, to deserve this? A thousand possibilities flashed before his eyes, awful possibilities…despite what he might have done in the past, this innocent child, this new life, did not deserve to suffer the pain of ancient memories! What does he remember?! Who WAS HE???

"Your enemy." Silently, the tears began to fall. "I was your enemy. I remember… tricking you, nearly killing you all…Wanting to do unspeakable things, because I thought it was right…Trying to lose you all…in an illusion…"

"Tomo."

"Seiryuu no Shichiseishi...You were Tomo."

~*~

The road was endless.

He needed food, water, sleep…and his feet were killing him…but inside, he knew that these things paled to the importance of his journey.

"Stupid," Chiyu panted, swiping the dark hair from his forehead. "You have to eat something. It won’t do any good if you get to Kutou and you pass out."

Since food was not an option at that time—he hadn’t thought to bring any with him, and he was miles away from a city or village—he opted for rest. Leaning back against the trunk of a large tree, he closed his eyes and let out a tiny groan.

I didn’t know traveling was so HARD…

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was awakened by something poking his shoulder. Squinting, he found himself peering up into a pair of large, green eyes; the eyes, he found, belonged to a boy not much younger than himself (though a great deal smaller), with longish, light brown hair and a worried expression on his face.

The worry immediately cleared up when Chiyu awoke, and the strange little boy smiled. "Ah, you’re alive! I was worried. I saw you lying there, and feared the worst."

"I-I’m sorry, My Lord," Chiyu said, scrambling to his knees.

"Goodness!" said the strange little boy. "Don’t call me that! It’s strange. I’m not a lord. I’m just a boy. Like you."

"Then why are you wearing such nice clothing?"

He looked down at his tunic, seeming embarrassed. "Uh, well….I was informed that these were peasants clothes."

"You were informed?"

"Drat," he frowned. "They’re not?"

Chiyu laughed. "Not unless the peasant stole them from a merchant’s cart. You don’t see a lot of silk in the country."

"Ah, well…" the boy mumbled. "Well, anyway, are you hungry? You look hungry. I have plenty of food, if you’d like some."

"I’d love some," said Chiyu, beginning to really like this strange noble-in-disguise.

"Well, come on…it’s in my saddlebag. Do you live around here?" he asked as they walked over to the dun mare grazing at the side of the road.

"Not really. I’m on my way to Kutou."

The strange boy froze and turned to him, green eyes wide. "Kutou?"

Chiyu nodded. "That’s right." Something in his eyes…Did he get the message, too? "Did you…"

"I’m going to Kutou," the child said solemnly. "I was called. Were you called?"

With a nod, the bigger boy gaped. "I can’t believe it!"

"There are more of us, you know."

"….I know."

"I’m Shunshuu," said the green-eyed traveler.

"Chiyu."

"It would make sense for us to travel together now, wouldn’t it?"

Chiyu nodded, and broke into a grin. "I’m so glad you have a horse."

TBC…

Notes: Okay, raise your hands, those of you who saw the Gen’ei/Tomo thing coming!!! I dunno if it was really obvious or not; it’s kinda hard to tell when you’re writing it and you know from the start who it is. ^_^ I think everyone can pretty much figure out Chiyu and Shunshuu by now, too… Shi might be a little tougher, I guess, but like I said, it’s hard for me to tell. ^_^ Thanks, everyone who’s reading this! Hope you guys have a good weekend!

Aussi: il faut que je fasse mon examen pour mon cours de français. C’est nul. J’ai pas envie de le faire. Why am I writing in foreign languages? 1) It’s 4:00 in the morning. 2) I’m getting in the mood to actually do my French midterm. 3) It makes me feel special and important. 4) I’m a spazz.