I don't own Samurai 7 or the characters.
Incase you didn't notice, some chapters have disappeared and the title and summary have changed. I had this really crazy idea for a crossover fic, but it was just to weird and I know when to admit that something doesn't work. A really good idea came out of it though, so I'm going to do some major editing of Chapter 2 and 3 and continue the story.
P.S. It's no longer a crossover.
Hope you enjoy.
It was a long day, but a good one. The farmers, spurred by their full bellies and new hope, spent every moment of daylight planting the rice that was finally theirs. At the end of it they found the two remaining Samurai gone. It was a strange feeling to know that the two men who risked everything for this day had drifted away like the wind.
For Kirara, their departure was a relief. She would be grateful for their sacrifice to her dying breath, but spending the winter months so close to Kambei had been hard. She even saw them leaving and said nothing for fear the villagers would bother them to stay longer. She just expressed her gratitude within her own silent heart and continued singing for the farmers.
She felt guilt though, guilt that she should be so resentful towards her savior. She felt that, as long as her heart bore this weight, the Samurai could not be properly honored.
It was for this reason that she made her way towards the familiar path to the four graves on the cliff.
"Priestess, be careful," one of the elderly women called when she walked by. "The men say they spotted the Ghost again today."
Kirara's hand sneaked to her other wrist, looking for a pendant that wasn't there. "Yes," she said seriously, "and if the spirit of one of our fallen warriors is so restless, than we must pray for him to find peace." With that she continued her trek.
For the first time in anyone's memory, Kanna Village was prosperous and spirited enough that the men could spare time to hunt. Those hunters came back from the hills four days before saying they saw one of the four fallen Samurai wandering in the woods. No one thought anything of it. It was just the season that brought it home to everyone what the Samurai died for. Now the villagers were seeing this Ghost everywhere.
As she walked towards the graves she noticed that someone was standing in front of one of them. They couldn't be much taller than her and she could see messy, shoulder length hair. The wash of crimson light from the sunset prevented her from telling the color, or making anything else out. What she could see was that this person had their hand out and was holding the white doll attached to Heihachi's sword.
She instantly felt her anger rise up. Touching the sword of the Great Samurai!? A more blatant dishonor to them and to her Village she couldn't imagine.
"Hey you!" she yelled as she stormed towards them.
As the person let go of the doll and turned towards her, the sun sank a little lower, finally hiding it's light. She stopped in her tracks.
The person's orange hair fluttered freely in the breeze, no longer restricted by his pilot's cap and goggles. Other than that he looked exactly as he had the last time she saw him alive… the same beige jacket, the same brown vest with so many pockets, the leather boots and gloves…
"Hei… Heihachi-sama?" She wanted to move towards him or run away, but her body wouldn't do either.
He regarded her through eyes so squinted they looked shut. His eyebrows raised and his mouth just slightly open… it was that expression of innocent confusion he often wore in awkward situations. Finally, he broke into that smile of his.
"Hey," he said, giving a courteous bow. When he straightened his smile faltered. Kirara was still frozen in shock.
He turned his now slightly grim looking face towards Kanna and, walking past his own grave, sat at the edge of the cliff.
Heihachi heaved a great sigh. Sitting like that, staring over what he made possible with his own life… here was something out of the old Samurai legends. Those stories always made Kirara cry.
She finally found her legs working again and slowly approached Heihachi, fearful that at any moment he would vanish. The ghost the villagers saw… here he was.
Why though? Was it to complete something unfinished, or to say goodbye? Perhaps it was because they couldn't give him a proper burial…
"Kanna Village looks nice," said Heihachi when she was almost behind him, "I'm glad to see everyone so happy." His voice didn't sound that glad though. It was soft… distant.
Kirara looked at Heihachi's sword, his grave marker, and then at his back. She swallowed her fear. She trusted this man when he was alive, and there was no reason to fear him now. "Great Samurai, why are you here?" she asked. She forced herself to sound calm and gentle.
"I wanted to see how things turned out." Just his hair moved, flying about his head in the spring breeze.
She sat down next to him and gazed at the beautiful rice fields washed with the fresh spring water and the last lazy sunlight peering above the horizon. "The Village is prospering and we all look forward to the future now. We finally have the hope that you… fought for, so your deeds were not in vein."
He smiled at that, but it was a small smile. "That's good to hear," he said.
Kirara stared at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. She didn't know how to say what she knew she had to. "You've completed your task… I asked you to help protect the rice of Kanna Village and you did so much more, so… so you should move on now…"
"You want me to leave…" His voice was still too distant. It sounded broken.
She felt the guilt in her heart, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. "It's not about what anyone wants," she said. "If only you could stay here in the Village, but you don't belong here anymore. You're –"
"Heihachi-sama!!!" She was cut off by the shrill cry and turned to find Rikichi and several other farmers standing in front of the graves.
"Oh, Rikichi," said Heihachi, also turning. "You look good, at least five years younger. Although it could be the surprise on your face." He chuckled to himself. That broken sound was still there though.
The poor farmer was stumbling backwards as he kept repeating, "But you're… but you're… but you're…"
"Dead? …Nah." Heihachi ignored all their startled staring as he got slowly to his feet.
Kirara got over her shock quickly when she noticed how stiff his movements were and how he groaned as he straightened up. Most of the effort was going towards his right side. "Heihachi-sama, you're -"
"Alive and well," he cut her off. "I'm sorry you thought otherwise." He was staring at his sword, his face betraying complicated emotions. Bowing he said, "Please forgive me."
There was only another moment of silence before Rikichi yelled, "Are you crazy!?! This is great!" His face beamed with barely suppressed tears as he walked over to Heihachi and wrapped his arm around the grinning Samurai.
The news spread through the Village like waves, each one becoming stronger than the last. At first it was just whisperings that the former Water-Priestess was spotted with the Ghost. Soon people were running through the Village, yelling that one of the Great Samurai had returned from the dead.
Komachi got upset when people started talking about the Ghost Samurai. She didn't want to face the memories of her lost friend. She told herself she just wanted to forget about him.
For that reason, she sat stubbornly in the Water Shrine and dismissed the excitement as silly rumors.
Then Okara showed up with the news that the Ghost wasn't really a ghost at all, that one of the Samurai really had returned. Komachi couldn't help but feel a small twinge of hope. Did he keep his promise after all?
"Which Samurai is it?" she asked carefully.
"Don't know." Okara shrugged and explained, "Everyone's crowding around, so I can't get a good look."
"Could it be Kiku?" Komachi kept her face serious, which was unusual for the lively girl.
Okara knew to be careful around this subject. She had tried to talk to Komachi more than once since the battle, but so far only succeeded in enticing fits of yelling and crying. The next day, Komachi would act like nothing happened.
"Kikuchiyo exploded," Okara answered slowly. "There was nothing left."
Strangely enough, Komachi smiled. "Exactly," she said. "The only pieces we found were his feet. Maybe he didn't explode! What if he just got knocked really far away, and it took him all this time to get back!" She looked overjoyed, like this explanation was true. "Come on! We've gotta go meet him!" She grabbed the family scroll off its honored shelf, as well as the hand of a worried looking Okara, and left the Shrine.
Unfortunately for her, everyone had the same idea. By the time she reached the foothills, there was a tight crowd consisting of the entire Village. It was dark already, but a number of men had the sense to carry torches. Komachi should have easily spotted Kikuchiyo over the other heads. This just didn't occur to her.
She stomped her feet, demanding to be let through. When that didn't work, she let go of Okara and plunged into the forest of legs before her.
It wasn't easy making her way through, especially since she was taller than she had been. She had to push and punch, as well as stomp on feet in order to make her slow progress, but soon she was close enough to hear the voice of the Elder saying, "Kambei-sama and Shichiroji-sama left this morning. We must send a messenger to alert them at once."
As she pushed closer she could hear Rikichi answer, "Don't worry Elder. We've already sent the evening courier."
She didn't hear the big, booming voice she longed for. As she fought forwards, she worked herself into a frenzy. What if he was hurt? What if he was angry? What if… what if it wasn't him? No! She wouldn't let herself believe that! It WAS him! It HAD to be him!
With a final squirm and a well-aimed kick at some poor woman's shin, Komachi finally burst through. Instantly the look of joy on her face was murdered by total, perfect horror.
She didn't care that the young man standing there was smiling at her. She didn't even care that he had always been kind to her. All that mattered was he wasn't Kikuchiyo, and for that she hated him.
"There you are Komachi…" Kirara cheerfully started, then she noticed the expression on the little girl's face. It was loathing, and it was directed at the Samurai. Heihachi too wore a strange expression. He was smiling, but his eyes looked pained.
"Why?" Komachi asked, as though this was a perfectly understandable query.
If Kirara knew what her sister was about to say, she would have carried the girl off right then. Instead she simply asked, "What's wrong?" She noticed the scroll Komachi clutched, and it dawned on her too late to do anything.
Komachi pointed a fierce finger at Heihachi and, with her face scrunched up in fury, screamed "WHY CAN'T YOU BE KIKUCHIYO!?!"