Hiya. Quite a while no see. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimers: I do NOT claim to be an expert at the kind of things I will describe here. I'm just a lowly medical student on OJT and trying to cope with seeing too many flatlines and unresponsive individuals than I would like. I own nothing except this story and the wasted time I could have spent studying about reading ECGs. Finally, as this comes just a little bit before the events in "Tenshi", this is SPOILER and retake of the end of the series, be warned. Remember I'm one of the fans who still refuses to believe the obvious.

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The news came to them from above, and it was spread faster than lightning.

The capital had fallen. The usurping leader of the region was dead.

The people in the refugee village eagerly awaited the arrival of the reconnaissance team that followed the samurai into Kanna village. The Shikimoribito always did that, wanting to be always abreast of the recent developments in the world around them. Also, they wanted to find anyone who still needed medical treatment when the battle was through.

It was a guiding principle within the territory of the Shikimoribito to help those who needed it, no matter on which side of the conflict they were on. This was the reason for the existence of the refugee village within the caves, a safe haven for any and all who needed protection. Thus, it had become a custom for the Shikimoribito to pick up the wounded in battle, if they saw that they could be helped or cured.

The villagers were used to this. They were also more than eager to help those involved in the battle that freed them from the current tyrannical rule. As the transport vehicle hummed to a stop at a platform, the villagers crowded around, ready with bandages, herbal medicine, food, and water.

Honoka was there, too, wanting news of any kind about all the samurai. Well, maybe just their leader in particular, Kanbei-sama, truth be told. She breathed a deep sigh of relief that he was not among the wounded that the Shikimoribito brought in. One of the hooded men told her that Kanbei-sama was at the village square, gathering the farmers and assessing the damage. She was glad.

Her sister Mizuki ran to the scene. Being new to the village, this was all a curious sight to her, and she wanted to be of service in any way. But as she came closer to the three wounded men, she stopped and gasped at the last one. "NO! How did this happen!"

Honoka was soon beside Mizuki. She, too, gasped, and held her hand over her gaping mouth.

It was a young man that she saw. He was unconscious, more dead than alive, as he was carried on a stretcher to a makeshift clinic. His face was scarred by debris and darkened by soot. Her sister had recognized the clothes more than the face: a brown coat below a leather jacket with many pockets, a leather cap that covered most of his red-orange hair.

It was him, the only one she never got along with. The one who directly called her a traitor.

But she could not seem to walk away. Instead, she walked slowly, as if in a nightmare, nearer to the where the young man was carried.

One of the attendants tore open the jacket, and revealed a brown coat soaked in fresh blood. Another patch of blood soaked his hair, when they took off the cap. His lips were almost white now, so pale they were, and his hands were yellow and cold. His chest was not even heaving. A leader among the Shikimoribito gave orders left and right to clean the wounds and to stabilize the young man.

Everyone in the village had liked him, this young man in the brown coat and brown cap, while the samurai were there among them. She had laughed at his jokes, too. From all the stories Mizuki told when she arrived at the refugee village, Honoka could tell that her sister liked him a lot as well. He was nice, always smiling, and always helpful, so it seemed.

But from the beginning, she was suspicious of him, more than the other samurai. He seemed to be like her. He knew more than he was willing to tell. And he showed her that he did.

Why was he there? Why was he wounded? …Why did she care?

"Nee-san…Nee-san….it's….it's….it's him…" her sister stammered.

"Yes, Mizuki, I see that," she said, icily.

"What…what do we do, nee-san?"

"I don't know."

A large group of the hooded men dropped from ropes overhead and inspected the new arrivals. They talked to the first two of the wounded, and soon they were carried off for more treatment. But they formed a tight circle around the third, as they listened intently at the hooded one nearest the bed, obviously a man with medical training. He pointed at specific areas at the wounded man's body. He nodded at some questions, and shook his head at others.

The villagers were beginning to be worried for the state of the wounded samurai. The conversation between the Shikimoribito was taking longer than usual. Many of them were shaking their heads more often than they were nodding them. They were more than relieved when one of the hooded men finally asked the elder among the villagers to approach them for instructions.

Honoka was as curious as everyone else. What was taking them so long to decide his fate? What was wrong with him? What needed to be done? Again, why did she even care?

The elder bowed to the hooded men, and left their circle. He walked to where the villagers were, and he was soon encircled by them.

"The Shikimoribito have spoken," the elder told the assembly. "He is in quite a terrible state; right now he is quite close to death. But he will be treated, and allowed to stay here."

Many sighs and smiles broke through the crowd.

But Honoka stepped forward. "Wouldn't it be more merciful to end his pain…and let nature run its course?" she asked, as she looked away and kept a stiff lip.

"Do NOT kill him off yet, Honoka!" the elder glared at her.

The young woman lowered her head. "I beg your forgiveness, dear elder."

The elder looked the young man, then at her. He grinned. "You do realize you have committed insubordination, do you not?"

"But…but…elder…I…"

"As punishment for your insolence," he continued, with a smile, "and as punishment for your, erm, previous offenses, you are ordered to care for this samurai, personally."

Her eyes widened.

The realization of what she was being made to do came quickly. Other wanderers had come before the samurai and farmers. She had been asked to care for others in delicate health before. It involved checking pulse rate and breathing, giving medicines, scooping up food, even cleaning after them.

But this was different, very different. Honoka remembered the heavy breathing at the back of her neck, the terrible awareness of a sword over her head, and the deadly voice that calmly asked if he should proceed to behead her. There was no way she would be able to look at him and not remember that. If the rest of the village wanted him to live, she actually wanted him dead. "Surely, someone in a better position…"

"I will hear no objections," the elder said. "That is the word of the Shikimoribito." His face softened. "It is a very light punishment. I suggest you accept it and not complain."

Her younger sister looked at her, begging Honoka to please, pretty please, take him in, if not for your sake then for mine. The other refugees were also looking at her, goading her with their eyes.

She wanted to scream, and she screamed in her soul. None of them understood. None of them knew what had passed between the two of them. She would never tell them, but she could not bring herself to do what they wanted her to do. Not to him.

The elder understood, though. He knew it would be more torture to do this than to keep her in solitary confinement or to drive her out of the camp.

She sighed. The punishment was just. "Yes, dear elder, I accept."

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Man, I'm getting rusty. But thanks for reading. This will be a short thing. Hoping to finish in the next few days, if I don't get toxic.