Chapter One

Mousse's Secret

He found him at the river by a small waterfall. He was in the middle of a complex kata exercise, his sharp yet graceful movements splashing the water around his feet in a dance of sparkling crystals in the orange light of the lowering sun. A red pole was clutched in his hand, slashing through the air, following his movements like an extended limb, jabbing at the occasional invisible enemy. He was certainly entertaining to watch.

That didn't change the fact he was late for supper.

"Du Ai!"

The boy splashing in the water yelped as he went falling backward into the shallow riverbed, instantly soaking himself. He sputtered, cursing loudly. He jerked his head around, looking for the one who had dared to interrupt his exercise and mess him up. He spotted his culprit, and he frowned, snatching his pole from the water and jumping to his feet, sending water flying.

"Look what you made me do, Dad!" the boy, called Du Ai, shouted.

The boy's father laughed. "Try not to get any of that on me, son." he told him as Du Ai stepped out of the river. "I really don't want to have to change back before dinner."

Du Ai slipped on his black shoes, the only thing on him that wasn't soaked. His long black hair, tied back in it's usual low ponytail, was damp, his dripping bangs getting into his eyes, which were a pale mahogany that almost looked pink. It was the least favourite part on his body, since pink eyes were certainly the most unmanliest thing he could think of.

"You can get dry once we get home. Your mother has supper waiting." with that Du Ai's father turned and headed back into the trees and back onto the path towards their village. Du Ai followed close behind, moving awkardly in his soaked clothes. Silk was very uncomfortable when it was wet, he thought with a grimace as he pulled at the wet shirt sticking to his skin. Although, he supposed it was a better fate than what his father had to deal with when he got wet.

You wouldn't expect it from looking at him, but his father, who was the Master of Hidden Weapons in their village, had a curse to turn into a duck when he touched cold water. This was because of a cursed spring called Jusenkyo, which was here in China. His father and mother told him to never go there, unless he wanted to end up like them. He'd gone there once when he was a kid, just to see what it was like. He wasn't counting on his parents to find him, however, and when they did, they grounded him for a whole week. Needless to say, he'd never ventured back to the cursed training grounds again.

Father and son arrived back in the village, and were soon at their house, which was a small hut with light smoke billowing from the small chimney on the roof. When the two entered, the house smelled like delcious soup. A woman stood by the small fireplace, where the smell was coming from. She turned when the two entered. Her eyes bulged.

"Du Ai slipped in the river, and made himself a little wet." his father explained. "Nothing some dry clothes won't fix, Shan Pu."

Shan Pu walked up to Du Ai, untying his shirt frogs in exasperation. Du Ai backed out of his mother's hold, giving her a look.

"I can do it myself, Mom." he muttered, untying the rest of the frogs.

"Take your wet clothes outside to dry, then go wash up for supper." said Shan Pu, turning away to go back to the pot on the fire.

Du Ai walked out of the small kitchen and into his bedroom, which was also very small. He certainly wasn't one to complain, however, since most of the houses in the village just had one room for everyone to share. He was lucky to have privacy, and glad he had it, too. He liked his alone time. He placed his staff against a wall and began to remove all of his soaked clothes. He threw them in a damp hump on the floor as he grabbed new, dry clothes. He quickly dressed then brought his wet clothes outside, hanging them on the small line hung from the house to a small tree to dry. He walked back inside, and seated himself at the round table, where dinner was being served. He sat down infront of a bowl of stew that made his mouth water instantly.

He dug in quickly, ignoring the fact it was still scalding hot. He'd worked up quite an appetite after a whole day of training. He inhaled the stew, and was quickly heading over to the pot for seconds. He sat back down at the table with his second bowl, bringing the spoon to his mouth when he caught sight of his father's face. He was smiling, chuckling under his breath while he shook his head.

"What's so funny?" Du Ai asked.

"You're just like him." Mu Tzu said with a light laugh.

Du Ai frowned, putting his spoon down on the table. "Who is him?" he asked, for what felt like the millionth time. For all he knew, he probably had asked this questions a million times. His father had been saying since he was a kid those same four words, and he'd never once given him a straight answer on who 'him' was.

When Du Ai was about five, and he finally asked his father who 'him' was, Mu Tzu told him it was his great-grandfather. Then, when Mu Tzu said it again, Du Ai asked to know more about his great-grandfather.

"What are you talking about?" Mu Tzu had said, looking puzzled. "I've never even met your great-grandfather, how would I know if you resemble him?"

"Then, who is 'him'?" Du Ai had asked irritably.

"Oh, that's easy. Your great uncle. You've never met him."

Each time, 'him' was a different man. Du Ai had quickly figured out that his father was never going to give him a straight answer on who him was, although Du Ai didn't know why he'd do such a thing. His father wasn't one to play tricks; this was the only sort of trick he had ever played on him. Why couldn't he just tell him who this mystery man was, and why he seemed to be so much like him?

"Well, you finally gonna tell me who he is, or what?" Du Ai snapped, staring his father down.

Mu Tzu looked at his son over the rim of his teacup. "Alright, I'll tell you." he said. "He's your third-cousin."

"You're lying!" Du Ai yelled. "Why can't you just tell me who this guy is?"

"Du Ai," Shan Pu said firmly. "don't raise your voice to your father. Quiet down and eat your supper."

Du Ai grumbled, picking at his stew with less enthuse than before. As he stared at his supper glumly, he missed the scolding look Shan Pu sent to Mu Tzu, her red eyes sharp. Mu Tzu, looking meek, shrugged and went back to his meal.

"You didn't hoe the fields like I asked, Du Ai." Shan Pu said suddenly. "The back garden was still hard dirt when I went back there earlier. I wanted to start planting the crop today."

"I was training." Du Ai muttered.

"You shouldn't let your training get in the way of your chores." his mother replied.

"I'm a martial artist, not a farmer." Du Ai quipped.

"I don't care what you are. I asked you to do your chores and you didn't do them. Instead you were out playing in rivers. You are fifteen, Du Ai. It is time to stop acting like a child." Shan Pu said, raising her voice.

"I wasn't playing in the river." Du Ai said angrily. "It was training."

"Tomorrow you will hoe the feilds, then you're going to plant the crops and water them everyday, twice a day." Shan Pu ordered. "Do I make myself clear?"

"I have to hoe the whole feild and plant them, and water them? That'll take hours!" Du Ai complained. "I, uhh...I already made plans!"

"Well, today I planned to plant those crops, but because you didn't prepare the feilds, I couldn't do so. So my plans were ruined, so I think it's only fair to run yours." Shan Pu said calmly.

"Daaad," Du Ai groaned, looking at his father with desperation.

Mu Tzu looked at Shan Pu, then back at Du Ai. He sighed.

"You heard your mother." he muttered.

Du Ai frowned, sending a dark look at his mother before rising to his feet and storming out of the room. They heard a door shut loudly seconds later, and Mu Tzu sighed deeply. Shan Pu stared into her bowl, a deep frown on her face.

"You know how much the Art means to him." Mu Tzu muttered.

Shan Pu stayed silent.

"It's just as much his passion as it is to-"

"Don't say his name." Shan Pu snapped.

Mu Tzu stared at his wife, his lips in a tight line. In fifteen years, Shan Pu was a shadow of her old self. Her bright violet hair had faded over time to a less shiny mauve. Her eyes were still the same vibrant red, but they held a tiredness that had never gone away. She wore her hair in a large bun, the two strands of hair infront of her ears were tied back into the bun, creating two loops on either side of her head. Mu Tzu stood up, placing a hand on Shan Pu's shoulder for a moment before walking out of the room.


Mu Tzu slowly opened the door leading to his son's bedroom. It was certainly a martial artist's bedroom. Meaning, there was hardly any time spent in this room aside for sleeping, so any personality was scarce. There was his red staff leaning on the left wall, a shelf with books he'd gotten from his great-great grandmother on famous martial artists, Amazon history, pressure points, anything a martial artist would find interest in. There were some newer looking tomes Du Ai had purchased himself the few times he'd travelled into civilization.

Mu Tzu stood admiring the large wall scrolls Du Ai had put up; one was dragon grasping an egg in its large claw and breathing smoke and fire. Another was two pictures of a man, back and front, showing all the pressure points on the anatomy. Du Ai was particulary fond of manipulating pressure points, and with that staff of his, it was one of his best moves. Du Ai lay on his old futon on the floor, his back facing Mu Tzu. Faking sleep, most likely.

"I know you're awake, kiddo." Mu Tzu said quietly. "If you were actually sleeping, you'd be snoring and your stomach would be exposed."

Du Ai paused, then turned around and sat up, a deep glower still on his face. Mu Tzu sat down on the futon with him, still looking at the wall scrolls. They were quiet for a long time.

"Why does she have to be like that?" Du Ai mumbled suddenly.

"She just wants to make sure that you don't revolve your entire life around martial arts. That can't be your only passion in life. If that's all you know how to do, you'll soon find you won't feel very fufilled in your life. A good friend of mine learned that lesson, many years ago. Now he has a happy life; he found a way to balance his happiness, to have his martial arts and still live a fufilling life." Mu Tzu said with a smile.

"Who is he, your friend?" Du Ai asked curiously, leaning forward in interest.

"Ah, just an old friend of mine. That was many years ago; I was about your age." Mu Tzu waved his hand, dropping the topic. "Anyways, I know doing chores doesn't sound fun, but not everything in life can be fun. It's not all about training, son. Sometimes you've got to do the boring things. That's just how life is."

Du Ai scoffed. "I'm going to show her. One day I'm going to pack up everything I have and travel all of Asia! I want to go everywhere I can, see everything I can, learn everything I can. I'm going to be the greatest martial artist in all of the world, and there's nothin' she can do that's going to stop me. I'd rather dry up and die than live my whole life in this village, going nowhere, learning nothing but the things Granny Ku Lohn will teach me, working in the feilds growin' crops like a farmer."

Mu Tzu laughed heartily. "I wouldn't expect you to! No, you're too much like him to stay cooped up in this village." a strange smile crept along his father's lips and his sea-green eyes seemed to glimmer with nostalgia. "No...some birds you can't keep caged. Their wings are just too big."

Du Ai smirked. "You did it again. You mentioned 'him' again." he muttered. "For as long as I can remember you've been sayin' that to me. Are you ever going to tell me who this guy is? Who is he? What's he like?"

Mu Tzu smiled. "You should know the answer to that one, son." he said. "I've told you. He's exactly like you."

"So, who is he?" Du Ai asked excitedly.

"You really want to know...?" Mu Tzu said, nearly in a whisper.

The exuberance faded from Du Ai's face, replaced by a look of wonderment at his father's expression.

"Yes, I want to know." he said firmly.

"...He's your nephew, three times removed." Mu Tzu replied.

Du Ai fell flat on face. He growled, jumping back up instantly and tackling his father to the ground.

"Cut that out!" Du Ai yelled. "I'm an only child, I can't be a freakin' uncle! Would ya just stop jerkin' me around and tell me who the hell this guy is?"

Mu Tzu laughed nervously, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay! Let me go, you hothead." he chuckled.

Du Ai let go of his father's collar, getting off his torso so Mu Tzu could sit up. Mu Tzu was smiling goofily, rubbing his back tenderly.

"All right, you're right, Du Ai. I've been beating around the bush for years, and to be honest I'm tired myself of playing this game with you. I'll tell you who he is..."

"Awright! You're really gonna tell me this time, no foolin'?" Du Ai exclaimed, practically bouncing in glee.

Mu Tzu held up his finger. "On one condition." he muttered.

Du Ai slumped. "...I gotta do what Mom said, right?" he grumbled.

Mu Tzu smirked. "That, and also, the annual tournament is coming up..." he said. "Win the tournament, and I'll tell you all about him."

Du Ai blinked. "Really? That's it?" he said. He smirked, and slapped his fist into the palm of his other hand. "Peice o' cake! I've been winnin' that tournament for the last five years!"

"Then this should be no trouble for you at all." Mu Tzu said, smiling. He gave Du Ai's knee a small pat, then stood up and headed for the door.

"Get some sleep, son. You should wake up bright and early tomorrow to get an early start on that feild." Mu Tzu told him, opening the door.

"Yeah, I know." Du Ai said, already pulling off his pants and shirt, stripping down to his tank top and boxers. He got himself beneath the covers, then looked up at Mu Tzu, just as he was about to close the door behind him.

"Dad?" Du Ai called.

Mu Tzu peeked through the crack in the door. "Hmm?"

"Thanks." Du Ai smiled sincerely, his eyes warm.

Has his mother ever seen him look at her with such warmth in the eyes she gave him?Mu Tzu suddenly wondered. No, I don't think she has.

Ever since he was born, Du Ai had a negative energy around his mother. When she was around him, he wasn't the same person. Instead of the bright, optimistic, energetic boy he was with everyone else, when Shan Pu was near Du Ai rarely smiled; his demeanor would turn cold, he angered easily, he avoided all physical contact with her if he could. Most of all, he hated the fact he had her eyes. Once, when he was merely four years old, Du Ai had come up to Mu Tzu and bluntly said he wished he'd been born with his father's sea-green eyes, and that he couldn't stand the colour of his own eyes.

He certainly is just like him. Mu Tzu thought sadly.

"You're welcome, son." he said softly. "Good night."

"Night, Dad."

Mu Tzu closed the door, hiding his expression from Du Ai before he could see the pain in his face. Sighing heavily, Mu Tzu walked out of the small hut and watched as dusk fell on the village. The tournament was steadily approaching, and Mu Tzu had no doubt that Du Ai would win again this year. Once one is ten, they qualify to enter the tournament. Du Ai had been very excited when he'd turned ten, and was able to enter the tournament. It wasn't uncommon to see a ten year old lose the tournament. They were just children, going up against the adults of the village, who were bigger and had more experience. Most times, the children didn't stand a chance. So imagine the village's surprise when Du Ai had won the entire thing, then proceeded to eat half the table of all the food he won.

"It's because he's the God-Slayer's son." Mu Tzu had heard people whisper.

"Yes, only a child with the blood of a man who slew a god twice, and lived to tell of it, has a hope of winning the tournament."

"When he gets older, he'll be the best in the village."

On and on the rumors went. The son of the God Slayer did not disappoint, either. For the next four years after that, Du Ai won each tournament. The other boys in the village would come to him, challenging him to duels. He won each one, and soon Du Ai was like a celebrity to all of the children in the village. They looked up to him, respected him, feared him. When boys were rude to the young girls, Du Ai would teach them a lesson in 'manners'. When someone bullied someone smaller or weaker than them, Du Ai protected them. He was like their leader.

"Yes, he'll win." Mu Tzu said. "He'll certainly win."

It had been fifteen years.

It was time that he knew. When he won the tournament, he would tell him everything.


In the morning, Du Ai was up with the sun. Preparing for his day out in the feild, he donned sandals, pants he'd torn to the knee to make into shorts, and a white tank top; a hand me down from his father, so it fit him like a potato sack. First, he went out front, feeling the chill of the early morning air. He started a kata to get his blood pumping and warm up his body. When that was done, he flopped down and started doing push-ups. When he felt limbered up and toasty, he went to the side of the house and grabbed the large, old hoe. It was very large, and because it was so ancient it was incredibly heavy. Most wouldn't be able to even pick it up, let alone swing it around. Luckily Du Ai had been training and doing farmwork his entire life, and lifting the hoe was no trouble. Going to the back of the hut, he took in his work space.

Behind their house was a large dirt feild. The dirt was hard and dry, and there were weeds. Before any planting could be done in this feild, it needed the soil tilled, the weeds removed, and the soil had to be covered in fertilizer. Du Ai sighed. This was going to take forever. He set off to work, hoping he'd have a little time to himself today to go train. After all this was done, he could go to a hot spring. Maybe go see Granny, see if she had any more books for him. He tried to keep the happy thoughts coming as he swung the hoe over and over into the ground, breaking it into soft dirt. He stopped to wipe at the sweat already starting to form on his brow.

Just then, his senses went off like sirens in his head, and as if his body was moving on his own, he tossed his hoe to the side and ducked down, narrowly missing a flash of silver that darted over his head. Standing straight, Du Ai watched a tree in the distance get impaled by a fork. He turned around, and saw his father leaning against the wall of the house, smirking.

"Looks like your reflexes are top notch." he said casually.

Du Ai stared at Mu Tzu, blinking in confusion.

"Everything is training," Mu Tzu said, holding up his hand, which had forks wedged into each of his fingers. "Care to make this a session?"

Du Ai was all ears. "What do I have to do?"

"Hoe the feilds, while avoiding the projectiles thrown. Think you can do it with that heavy tool in your hands?" Mu Tzu jeered.

Du Ai scoffed, picking up the hoe. "Don't underestimate me, old man. Bring it on."

Mousse tossed the forks, which Du Ai easily dodged, jumping backwards and whacking at the ground as he went. Mousse tossed another round of forks, this time with both hands. Du Ai had no trouble dodging the forks, and managing to till the soil under his feet as he moved. Mu Tzu quickly increased his arsenal, throwing maces, chains, daggers. The projectiles kept getting bigger and deadlier, and it became more challenging. He was knicked a few times by daggers, narrowly missed getting his head caved in by maces. After about an hour, the entire feild was completely turned up. Du Ai lay on the ground, heaving and sweating.

Mu Tzu stood over him, panting. He offered his hand and helped Du Ai stand.

"Nicely done. Alright, that's enough for today. I'll help you plant the seeds and water."

They did so, chatting lightly as they went about their work. With extra hands helping him, Du Ai was done in chores in much less time than he thought he would be. There was still plenty of daylight left. The two stood before the feild, the soil a rich brown, all the seeds planted in neat rows. Father and son looked at each other at the same time, Du Ai's eyes holding a question. Mu Tzu smiled, and nodded.

"The day is yours, son. I'll tell your mother you did everything, and got no help from me whatsoever." Mu Tzu said amusedly.

Du Ai grinned. "Thanks, Dad." he said excitedly, and then he was off like a shot. Mu Tzu watched him go, smiling.

Ku Lohn was making herself breakfast when she heard the loud, quick footsteps, and a voice that could only belong to her great-great grandson.

"Mornin', granny!" he greeted happily as he invited himself into her small, one room hut.

"Who's a granny?" she asked curtly, whipping her walking stick at him. He caught the stick with one hand, sniggering. He walked over and gave her back the stick, from where she stood on the counter, watching her fish grill. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Sure, I'm starvin'." Du Ai agreed, staring at the fish with an expression that practically bordered on lust.

"You have a knack for showing up here when I have food. It's like you can sense it." Ku Lohn said, rolling her large eyes. "You're certainly up early, child."

Du Ai rolled his shoulders around, working out the soreness in his muscles. "Mom made me work the feilds today. Dad made it a training session by throwing projectiles at me while I tried to till the soil. It made it way faster and more fun to do. That's what Dad does though, he looks out fer me." Du Ai gave a cheeky smile, putting his hands behind his head.

"Working in the feild, eh? No wonder you're covered in dirt. You're filthy, child." Ku Lohn told him, scooping rice into two bowls.

Du Ai either ignored her or simply didn't care. "So, ya got any books fer me, granny?" he asked. They sat down at a small kotatsu in the middle of the room, with a plate of fish, a bowl of rice, and a cup of tea for each of them.

"Actually, yes. I do." said Ku Lohn, getting up to go retrieve the books. She came back with just two, placing them in front of Du Ai. He read the titles with curiousity.

"Musashi, and The Book of Five Rings." he muttered.

"Ever heard of Miyamoto Musashi? He wrote Book of Five Rings in the 1600s, and then Musashi was a book written about him. You'll like them, they're all about fighting, battle strategy, that sort of thing." Ku Lohn said, sipping her tea.

"Cool. Thanks, gran." he said. Then he dug into his food.

"The tournament is drawing close, child. I assume you're entering again this year?" Ku Lohn asked.

"You bet! I gotta keep my winnin' streak up. This time though I got another reason fer winnin' this tournament." Du Ai said, smirking with a mouthful of fish and rice.

"Did a pretty girl say she'd go on a date with you if you won first place?" Ku Lohn teased.

Du Ai laughed, washing his food down with tea. "Nah, even better than that." he said. "Y'know how Dad is always sayin' I'm just like 'him', but he's never told me who 'him' is, or even his name? Well, he told me that if I win the tournament this year, which I will, then he'll finally tell me who 'him' is."

Ku Lohn stared at Du Ai for a moment, then went back to her fish. "Is that right." she muttered.

"Yup. Finally I get to here who this guy is. Apparently he's just like me, or so Pops keeps on sayin'. Man, I can't wait to hear about him. I wonder what kinda guy he is, where he is, how does Dad know him...I just have a million questions."

"Well, I'm confident that you shall win the tournament, as you have for past five years. When you do, you will get all the answers. I only hope you will accept them." Ku Lohn said.

Du Ai didn't reply, since he didn't really know how. His gran was a couple thousand years old, and had a knack for speaking in philosophical riddles at times. He simply nodded in reply and went back to his food.

For the rest of breakfast, Ku Lohn told Du Ai about the two books she'd given him, and he listened with deep interest as she talked about the famous samurai. Later, Du Ai left with the books and a bag of baked sweet potatoes she'd been saving for him. Ku Lohn watched her great-great grandson as he walked away, soon hidden in the crowds. Ku Lohn stayed there for a while, standing outside her hut balanced on her stick, staring at the sky.

"Mu Tzu," she whispered. "I hope you know what you're doing."


Author's Notes:

Here we are again, folks. Chapter One of Decode II: Deceit from Ashes. Hoo, boy. Why do I have a feeling this is going to take me another two years? Sigh...well anyhow, I'd like to use this AN to explain a little bit about the story thus far.

Well, in this chapter we are introduced to Du Ai, whom if you read the first book (which you should have if you have a hope of understanding this one) was mentioned on the very last chapter, and now will pretty much be the main character of this story.

If you haven't guessed already, Du Ai's Japanese bastardization is "Dye". Yeah, folks, as in hair dye. Of course since he's Shampoo's kid I had to give him an Amazon "beauty product" name, and since Shampoo and Mousse are both related to hair, I made his name hair-related, too. However, the meaning behind the name digs a little deeper.

What does hair dye do? It changes your hair into a different colour. Hair dye covers up the truth of one's natural, true colour. In the most basic sense, a lie. The perfect name, I think, for Dye as a character, considering the circumstances. Obviously from looking at the title alone of this story, you can clearly tell this is going to be all about false truths, covered up lies, and utter deceit.

That may sound all ominous and depressing, but I'm actually going to try and make this story a little more upbeat than the first, which as you know had war, beheading, murder, practically a genocide, and rape. Pretty freaking dark if you ask me. So, this story will try and lighten the mood as good as it can, but keep in mind Dye's namesake, and all the events that occurred fifteen years ago, and of course "him". Because they're all going to reveal themselves soon.

Well then, that takes care of all the explanations! If anyone has any further questions, just drop me a PM or a review, and I'll reply. :) Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and stay tuned for Chapter Two!

Happy reading!

Jadells