Hayate crouched on a branch looming high above the ground, veiled by a dark, prickly canopy. Soft gold moonlight shone from behind and illuminated smooth outlines of his village tucked in the valley below. Resting his arms on his thighs, he watched quietly as lights in the modest homes went out. His keen eyes picked out one last figure disappearing inside. Then he scanned the outskirts of the village in search of trespassers.

Cicadas whirred. A small gust carried the scents of maple and pine through his clothes and hair. He inhaled. The winds held no hostility, meaning safety for his clan tonight. As the eighteenth leader of the Tenjin Mon Sect, his primary concern was the village's well-being, and with DOATEC planning so many raids on the village to procure powerful shinobi for use in their sick experiments, the security had never been higher.

Fingering the black sash, from his days as a karate master, wound around his belt, he shifted his jaw. Every time he thought about what those people had done to him, his stomach grabbed, and his muscles clenched. Had they not picked him up, he may not even have survived his spinal injury. There was nothing worse than being in debt to those monsters.

In that time away from both his home and his memories, he couldn't fathom how his village had survived, how he had survived. Alone, in the middle of Germany, without so much as a name.

Hitomi.

Clamping a fist around the black sash, he shook his head. She'd saved him, been his friend, helped him enter a new life, but she didn't fit into his world anymore…his real world.

Leaves brushed Hayate's cheek. Keeping his eyes trained on the village, he murmured, "The night is quiet. The moonlight is keeping the shadows at bay."

A man's deep voice sliced the air. "Sometimes moonlight is the more untrustworthy." Though Hayate did not look, he pictured Ryu perfectly, standing flawlessly balanced on the limb, clothes black, arms crossed, green eyes dagger-like. Ryu continued. "Your village will be safe under my watch tonight."

"Thank you."

"You know that I would carry out any request you ask of me, Hayate," Ryu said softly, "and I am honored that you trust me enough to allow me to guard your clan." He paused. "But as our enemies gather, as DOATEC formulates new experiments for your people, I must ask you to put an end to this. You cannot continue to lead two separate lives. You must give up that past life, a life that was merely a dream. You belong here."

Hayate looked at Ryu, but the ninja didn't meet his gaze. "If there was a way to end this, I would. But in that other life, I am intertwined with the people that I met. They care too much for me, and ripping myself from those threads would only create a hole, a hole that would eventually tear them apart."

"You mean that it would break the heart of that karateka, the girl who took you in." Hayate clenched his jaw. He couldn't deny the claim without lying, and his lie would be detected instantly. Ryu knew his every emotion and thought even before he did. "Hayate, she is not a part of our world and never can be. You have seen what happens when one of us gets too involved with someone from the outside." A fleck of pain flashed in Ryu's eyes. "Every moment you spend with her, the more you risk her discovering your true identity. You know the consequence of that."

He did know. If she knew he was a shinobi, she'd be killed. It was a thought that haunted him every time he donned his karate gi. Ryu was right. The longer Hayate spent time with her, the more he risked making a mistake, doing something out of character for his other self. The instant word got out about a leak in confidentiality, the assassins would be there in a split second.

"You say that if you leave, the people you knew would become lost," Ryu inclined his head slightly, "but I wonder if it is you who would be lost." The wind stood still. Everything was silent. Even the cicadas held their breath. "You no longer know who you are."

A suffocating fury clamped Hayate's gut. That was impossible. He knew who he was. He longed to lash out against the accusation but instead forced himself to ignore the chaos of thoughts in his mind. He stood, turned away from his village, and stared over the roaming mountains, dreading the long journey he was about to take.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryu finally looked at him. Though the lower half of his face was covered, his eyes shone with concern. "I cannot continue to act as the protector of this village in your stead. Because I am your friend…I will not."

Hayate nodded slowly, focusing on a wispy cloud riding low in the sky. "I will find a way to sever my ties to that life." He jumped and disappeared.

HS

Hitomi rapped on the door with her knuckles. No sounds came from within the small apartment, so she waited, adjusting her fingerless practice gloves. After a couple minutes, she knocked again, this time calling, "Ein!" Again, no answer. "Come on, Ein. We're going to be late! You're supposed to help me teach the junior class this morning, remember?" She knocked one last time. "Ein!"

When no answer came, she huffed and spun, then headed down the musty hallway and flight of stairs to reach her bike parked outside the building. As she mounted it and sped off down the sidewalk, she searched for any signs of him. What was up with Ein lately? He was always showing up late for things, and when he did come, he was always dead tired. She asked him what was up, but he always avoided the question somehow. He was definitely hiding something. After chewing him out for abandoning her to a bunch of prepubescent kids, she was determined to punch the secrets right out of him.

As she sped around a corner, she wormed her cell phone out of her pocket, hit the number three—Ein's speed dial—and mashed the phone to her ear. It went straight to voice mail. She clapped it shut with a groan. She hated it when he turned his phone off. Didn't he know that she constantly needed to get a hold of him?

When she finally arrived at her family's dojo, she locked her bike up to the rack outside the arching, cement entrance. She hurried up the stone path towards the sliding door. Inside, some of the students were already waiting, but Hitomi ducked into an attaching room and changed into her white gi, then popped back out as she tied her black belt around her slim waist. Her bare feet thumping quietly on the wood floor, she took her place in front of the group of young adolescents. Pressing a fist into her vertical palm, she bowed slightly. "Osu."

The kids, each in their own gi with matching belts of varying colors, fell at attention and mirrored Hitomi's gesture. "Osu," they chimed, their German accents mixing strangely with the foreign words.

"Where's Ein-sensei?" a girl in the front row asked in German.

Hitomi knew the question had been coming. She managed to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "He couldn't make it today. So you're stuck with me." With her hands clasped behind her back, she took a few steps. "Start with kata, please."

"Yes, sensei," the class chanted. Moving as one unit, they spread their legs wide into the horse stance, pulling their upturned fists in towards their bodies, and began to throw strong punches. Hitomi barked out the kata so that the students could visualize the enemy attacks and react with proper movements. Though many of these students were only yellow belts, ninth kyu, they moved with the fluidity of one examined the stance and posture of each student in turn, taking mental notes on their accuracy and enthusiasm.

The door across the large room opened, its elongated squeal echoing through the space. His white gi crumpled and his black belt tied crooked, Ein stepped through. Dropping a duffle bag on the floor, he padded towards Hitomi. She continued to read off the kata, pretending not to notice him as he approached. When he stopped by her side, he bowed slightly. "Osu," he said quickly. Hitomi acknowledged him with a nod but wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of her full attention. Thankfully, he didn't interrupt her and began to pace around the students, assuming his role of instructor as if nothing had happened.

As she continued to address the class, Hitomi stole quick looks at Ein. His gi wasn't the only thing that was bedraggled. Hanging straight to his shoulder, his copper hair seemed a bit messier than usual, and as a whole, he just seemed exhausted. His light red eyes watched the students with the intensity of a hawk watching its prey. Hitomi longed to know his reason for being so late, but she forced herself to focus on the lesson.

Finally, she finished the exercise and had them turn to their partners and begin kumite, the sparring part of their training. As the students ran through various moves against one another, Hitomi avoided Ein. Each time he walked to one side of the group, she made a point to hurry to the opposite side. She refused to let him off the hook so easy this time. This was the third time he'd been late this week, and when she asked him why, he always found a way to avoid the question. If her father were well enough to run the dojo, he never would have tolerated tardiness. But Ein knew that. In fact, he seemed to respect her father more than she did at times. So why was he taking his commitment to this dojo so lightly?

She stopped to correct a student's technique. Out of the corner of her eye, Ein cut through the group, carefully stepping around the sparring pairs. Luckily, he turned the other way before he could reach her. Apparently, he was avoiding her as much as she was him. He knew she was angry with him. Good.

With the kumite stage complete, Ein took charge and led the class through the last few exercises, then moved on to teach them a few new techniques. As he flowed smoothly through each move, Hitomi couldn't stop herself from watching him closely.

He kept his balance flawlessly. With his white sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the taut muscles of his forearms shone with sweat. But there was something different about him. His eyes held a deeper focus than she'd ever seen. Confidence? No. Ein was naturally confident, often a little too confident for his own good.

But now, he was in control of everything—his actions, his emotions.

When he finished demonstrating the new techniques, he delivered a few announcements, apologized for being late, and then dismissed the class. None of the students moved, however. They all looked to one boy standing in the middle, apparently urging him to step forward. The boy stood at attention. "Ein-sensei," he said boldly, "we were wondering if you and Hitomi-sensei would demonstrate a real duel for us."

Ein shot a quick look at Hitomi, then looked back at the students. "Maybe some other—"

"We'd be happy to," Hitomi said before she could stop herself. Ein narrowed his eyes at her, a questioning expression on his face. She nodded. "I think it'd be good for you all to see two masters in action, what hard work can accomplish in this art. That is, if Ein-sensei is willing."

"Well, yeah, but are you sure—"

"Positive." Taking her place a few feet from both the class and Ein, she stood rigid and waited for Ein to get in place. When he did, they both bowed, murmured "osu", and fell into their individual stances.

Neither of them moved. They locked eyes. Hitomi tried to gauge his expression, but it was blank, his eyes swimming with unreadable emotions. What was up with him? Hopefully he'd tell her what was wrong if she beat him. Hitomi was the better of them, and he was distracted by whatever was on his mind. It would work to her advantage.

With a shout, she burst forward, letting loose a flurry of kicks. He blocked each blow with his taped wrists, then ducked under her fists and released an uppercut. His knuckles grazed her chin. She countered with her own set of swift punches. They traveled across the floor, locked in a never-ending cycle of thrashes.

Ein was holding back. Though he was demonstrating all of the skills Hitomi knew he possessed, she could tell from the bluntness of his attacks and the concentration on his face that there was more to his power than he was displaying. But how was that possible? She'd been there for each of his karate lessons. She'd even taught him a few things. Had he been training somewhere else?

With a fast strike, he managed to catch her ribs with a finger jab. She grunted. He pushed her back, showering her with deadly blows. Had she not blocked each of them, he could have easily incapacitated her. As he threw a fist at her face again, she thrust her wrists up and caught his attack. Then she kicked his knee inward, causing him to stumble back. This was her chance. She spun, lifted her leg high, and aimed a kick at his neck.

Her foot passed through empty air. She gasped. He had disappeared!

Something thumped behind her. Without turning to see what it was, she dropped low and twisted her leg around. She caught Ein's ankles. They jerked out from under him. He fell with a thud. Planting a foot between his sprawled legs, she whipped a fist into his face, stopping it inches from his nose. Breathing heavily, he stared with a slackened jaw at her fist, his face a mask of panic and disbelief.

The class clapped. Hitomi backed off and offered Ein a hand. He made no move to accept it. Then, abruptly, he shot to his feet and headed towards his duffel bag. Hitomi tried to shout after him, but the words evaded her. She looked at the students. "You're dismissed," she said and hurried after Ein.

Catching up with him just as he hefted the duffel bag, she grabbed his arm. "Hey," she frowned up at him, "what was that back there?"

Avoiding her eyes, strands of his hair blocking his own, he said, "You won."

"But how did that happen?"

"You're the better karateka."

He turned to leave, but she tightened her grip on his thick bicep, managing to hold him in place. "That's not what I meant. I mean, how did you do that? Disappear."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Ein. Tell me!"

With a sigh, he looked at her in exasperation. "Look, Tome. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Why not?"

"Just 'cause." After pulling out of her grasp, he headed out the door.

Gritting her teeth, Hitomi ducked into the back room, collected the backpack containing her street clothes, and rushed after him. When she fell in step beside him, she shoved his arm and wagged a finger in his face. "You still owe me for being late."

Holding up his hands as if surrendering, he nodded. "I know. I'm really sorry about that."

"What were you doing, anyway? You weren't off on another one of those escapades chasing down a crazy lead to solve your amnesia, were you?"

Ein shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder and looked down at his feet, his eyebrows pressed together as if he didn't know what to say. Hitomi felt a twinge of guilt. This wasn't the first time he had disappeared on a late-night investigation. He was desperate to regain his memories. But that still didn't excuse him for being late. "Okay." She crossed her arms. "But you still owe me."

"Tell you what." He stuck out an arm to make her stop walking. "How 'bout we go get changed, and then I'll treat you to a German chocolate cake and a movie?"

"You drive a hard bargain," she said, trying to bury her excitement, "but I suppose it will do."

He cracked a smile, the hint of a dimple creasing his left cheek. "I'll meet you at your house at six."

HS

Hitomi yanked a brush through her hair. Wearing dark jeans and a lacy shirt with a cami underneath, she couldn't believe she'd dressed up for this. It wasn't a date. It was an apology. She glared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she hacked at her hair with the brush. She wrinkled her nose. "Can't tell me," she muttered. "Uh-huh. I'm sure he can't tell me."

Her hair now rat-free, she dropped the brush and snatched her foundation brush. As she dabbed the powder over her face, she suppressed a growl. "I mean, what's the big secret? He always tells me everything about his amnesia stuff." She applied some eye shadow and eyeliner before grabbing for her mascara. "I'm the one who found him in the first place. I even came up with his name! He should tell me." She swiped fiercely at her eyelashes. "He has no right to keep secrets from me. Ugh! What's his deal?"

The mascara brush jabbed her eye. She jerked back with a yell, dropping the brush in the sink. Her eye watering severely, she held a hand over it. Dull pain buzzed up her skull. She kicked the cupboard ferociously. "Son of an ice cream-wrecker, tone-deaf toad!" she shouted and continued to rant and kick the cupboard.

"Tomi?"

The call from her living room made her stop abruptly. Ein!

"Are you alright?"

"Yes!" she called back, rushing to wipe away her tears.

"I hope you don't mind my letting myself in. I knocked, but you didn't answer."

"No, that's fine." She gritted her teeth. Note to self: Lock the door in the future to keep Mr. Secret Man out.

Wiping away a streak of mascara by her eyes, she checked the mirror to make sure she was presentable. Then she hurried out into the living room. Ein stood casually, hands resting in the pockets of his dark jeans, his grey polo shirt untucked. He'd even made an attempt to straighten his hair.

When he saw her, he broke into a half-sincere, half-cheesy smile. "You look awesome."

She cleared her throat, twisting some hair around a finger. "Thanks."

"You ready?"

"Yep."

After she plucked her purse from a hanger by the door, they headed out into the cool evening air. As they strolled down the sidewalk, Hitomi bit her lip to keep quiet. She'd confront him when they got inside, just so they were in public in case she tried to punch his face in.

They arrived at a small café on the corner of a street. Ein held the door open for her. Inside, the warm scents of coffee, chocolate, and fresh bread engulfed them. Hitomi inhaled deeply, salivating as Ein ordered her favorite chocolate cake from the counter. He ordered a coffee for himself. Carrying both items, he led her to a small table against the back wall. As Hitomi sat, he placed the plate in front of her and took the chair across from her.

Hitomi grabbed a fork, stabbed it into the cake, and took the first bite. Melting on her tongue, the chocolate coated her palate. She narrowed one eye at Ein who, instead of sipping his coffee, watched her as she ate. "What's your deal?" she asked.

Leaning forward, he grabbed her free hand and looked her in the eyes, his own a deep red in the dim lighting. "I am truly sorry for arriving late this morning," he said slowly, quietly. "I did not mean to disrespect you or your father."

His hand warming her skin, she swallowed. "Apology accepted." She aimed the fork at him. "But that doesn't let you off the hook. I still want to know why you were late."

His eyes hardened, as if the mention of this secret angered him. His jaw muscles flexed. Rolling his lips in, he combed his free hand through his hair. As the stray strands settled in front of his eyes, he met her gaze again. Slowly, his eyes grew soft. He slid his hand up to her wrist, tugging it forward in order to bring her closer to him.

Their noses now inches apart, Ein spoke in a low tone. "What do you want to know?"

"Just answer my first question. Why were you late?"

He glanced at the far window on the other side of the café before saying, "I was out of the country."

She blinked. "Say what?"

"I was in Japan."

Hitomi straightened, raising her voice. "Why in the world—" He hissed her name through clenched teeth and squeezed her wrist. Taking the hint, she quieted down and leaned close to him again. "Why in the world were you in Japan? Does it have something to do with your amnesia?"

"No. I was protecting a village, the Mugen Tenjin village."

"Protecting a village?" She almost started laughing, but his serious expression made her stop. She frowned and began to raise her voice again. "I don't understand. Why were you at this 'village'? How was that more important than the dojo? You're still hiding something. I know you are. What aren't you telling me?"

His voice spiking, Ein said, "I've regained my memories, Hitomi."

She froze. Her heart thumped against her ribs. He had his memories back? What did that mean…for them…for her? She managed to choke out, "When?"

He lowered his eyes. "After the second DOA tournament."

It was like she had been stabbed. She gaped, her insides collapsing. "You…you've known since the second tournament? And you didn't tell me?" Her breathing quickened. She yanked her wrist out of his hand.

"I know how you feel, Hitomi, but I had a good reason for not telling you. It was for your protection."

"My protection?" she snapped. "What a joke!" Vaulting to her feet, she swung her purse straps over her shoulder. She stormed to the door.

"Hitomi, wait!"

Ignoring him, she pushed out into the cold air. When she got to the curb, she stopped, staring at the street. Anger welled up inside of her and poured out in the form of tears. This was the end of everything. Nothing would ever be the same. He'd had his memories back for almost three years! Why couldn't he have just ditched her and gone back to wherever he came from? It would have been easier.

"Hitomi." A strong hand curled around her upper-arm and spun her around. With Ein's body so close, Hitomi wanted nothing more than to take comfort in his arms, but she resisted the urge, instead struggling against him. But he held her in place.

"Listen." He tried to brush away some of her tears with his fingers, but she batted his hand away. He sighed. "I know you don't understand why—"

"Who are you?" she shouted.

He flinched slightly. Slowly, his grip loosened until his hand fell away from her arm. Under dark eyebrows, his eyes stared out with confusion, indecision. He mashed his lips together, apparently trying to decide if he should tell her or not. Finally, he took a slow inhale through his nose. "My name is—"

Panic flashed in his eyes. He yanked Hitomi against him and wound an arm around her neck. The air whistled. Ein let out a muffled grunt.

Hitomi stared wide-eyed until he pushed her away. It had happened so fast, she didn't even know what had happened. "What just…." When she saw Ein pull a triangular knife from his forearm, she trailed off, her jaw slackened. "What is that?"

Blood staining his shirt sleeve, he stared at a short purple sash tied to the handle of the knife and whispered under his breath. "Ayane."