Satoru Norisawa was a man that did not sway along with his emotions. Years of training and rigid discipline had granted him a very good control over his thoughts and actions. Yet, as he entered the small room, he felt a sudden rush of emotions and magic wash over him. It was just for a moment, but it was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but cling to the door frame with a hand until his mind cleared.

"I am fine," he whispered, fighting the urge to sink to the floor to rest his suddenly aching body. "No need to concern yourself."

Thankfully the pain was fading fast and he was able to take a step inside the dimly lit room along with the rest of his clan. Earlier that day his youngest brother Daisuke had returned from a night mission, looking extremely worried and with an unconscious boy slung over his shoulder. Satoru had been informed straight away, but had been unable to see the child himself until that moment due to clan related business.

"Satoru, you do not just say you are well after clinging to the wall," someone to his left said. Satoru recognized Tadashi's worry before he recognized his voice. He was the healer of the clan after all, and worrying for the health of the others came naturally to him. "I believe you should rest. We will deal with the boy ourselves."

Satoru was known for his wisdom and patience, but he was also known to be very stubborn at times. So, when he ignored Tadashi's worried words and moved past this brothers assembled in front of him, no one was surprised.

He came face to face with the intruder, and was mildly confused how such a scrawny, young kid could cause such distress and confusion within the clan. Perhaps it was because of his strange clothes, or maybe because of his hair. Satoru had to admit that the dark shade of color seemed more of a dark blue than pure black. Something he had never seen before.

"Daisuke?"

Satoru looked away from their strange prisoner and found his youngest brother walking up to him. He looked worried, and the way he was toying with one of his sais meant that he was extremely nervous.

"I found him while I was coming back," the youngest Norisawa replied, knowing his eldest brother was asking for an explanation without actually voicing it. "He looked harmless and sick, but he was trespassing. And... Satoru, I heard strange rumors from the nearby village. People saying a boy defeated one of those monsters..."

The emphasis that Daisuke put on 'those' meant only one thing. He was referring to one of the Sorcerer's monsters. Those beasts weren't just strong and vicious, but their anger was so strong that it made them something extremely dangerous to deal with. Even deadly if someone fought them alone and unprepared.

"He matched the description," Daisuke continued before anyone else could question him. "A boy wearing strange clothes. I was not sure at first, but then noticed he was merely wearing a hat and dirty rags over them."

Satoru nodded, glad that his brother was so quick and precise in relating his story. It made things so much easier for him and eliminated the chance of them having the wrong person in their custody.

The child was currently slumped against the wall, with his long legs half folded under him and head bowed. His slow breathing and lack of reaction to his approach told Satoru that the kid was unconscious or at least too weak to do anything at all.

The eldest Norisawa crouched in front of the boy and peered at his face. The skin of his cheeks had a red tint to it, and there was a thin sheet of sweat coating his forehead. They were classic signs of a fever, and this confirmed Daisuke's story of him being sick.

"So this kid was able to kill a monster single handed?" he asked, eyes glancing up at his youngest brother. "How?"

Daisuke cringed, running a hand through his short brown hair. "And this is where things get very strange... He did not kill. He... ah, in the words of the villagers, 'transformed the monster back into a girl'."

Confusion and noise erupted in the small room, forcing Satoru to raise a hand to silence everyone. Yet the news had been so shocking that the usual quick response from the clan became sluggish and almost reluctant. In all their years of fighting, no one had found a way to save a victim from the Sorcerer's magic.

"And that is not everything," Daisuke's voice became soft and unsure. Even more than before. "Satoru, you are the best when it comes to hand-to-hand fighting. You have developed an unique style that is different than ours, and..."

Satoru noticed that his youngest brother was looking around with his eyes. He was probably trying to figure out everyone's current mood and thinking how he should deliver the next bit of information without causing even more commotion.

Which was strange, because Daisuke always reported what he knew without taking pauses of any kind. Now he was hesitating a lot, making everyone else in the room nervous and anxious.

"I had a brief struggle with him..." The hesitation was still there, but at least now the youngest Norisawa had found enough courage to continue his tale. "I was doing what Mamoru does when he deals with intruders... keeping him restrained and ask questions. The next thing I know, he... broke free..."

There was nothing strange in what Daisuke had said, and it made Satoru wonder why his little brother was so distraught over the whole thing. If the boy was really a trained warrior, it was possible for him to get free even under those conditions. It was a basic aspect of training.

"He did the same thing you do, Satoru. Same movements, same determination... the differences were minimal, mostly due to the difference in your bodies."

And now the eldest Norisawa found himself just staring at Daisuke, his rushed words echoing in his mind like a loud gong. Such a thing could not be possible. He had never taught his own style to anyone, and his brothers had developed their own way of fighting centered around their weapons of choice.

Satoru could feel cold sweat run down his back as his mind came to a complete stop. "Are you sure of this?"

Daisuke's only answer was a helpless shrug. He too could not believe what he had been part of, but at the same time he could not deny the fact that he had recognized Satoru's own movements.

"I do not think I could have won if he did not drop unconscious after that," he said after a while. His eyes were shifting between the unconscious boy and his eldest brother. "For a moment I felt like I was facing you, not a sick kid..."

It was really hard for Satoru to not get up and yell that what he had just heard was fake. He knew Daisuke, and like the rest of his brothers, lying to each other was considered very offensive. One would rather say that they did not feel like talking, that it was a personal issue, or something like that.

But never lie.

His internal debate was disturbed when the boy shifted in his sleep, tilting to the side and starting to fall. The motion was halted when Satoru reached forward without thinking twice, his body acting on a reflex honed by years of training.

It was when his right hand connected with the kid's upper left arm that things took a heavy turn for the supernatural.

Like in one of those scary stories that Daisuke was so fond of, the world of the living melted away and Satoru fell head first through a passage that had no walls. As he was pulled downwards by an unknown force, disconnected words and symbols rushed past his eyes so fast that they were almost a blur.

A loud scream left his throat, but before he could fully comprehend what had just happened, he was back into the real world. The transition was quick, and although feeling of return was not as frightening as the one of falling, it still shocked and disoriented him.

Someone brought into the hallway and he felt glad when they helped him sit down against a wall. "Isamu..." he called softly, too distraught to be bothered at how shaken his voice sounded. He took a moment to swallow the lump in his throat and cradle his aching right arm against his chest.

Isamu was a smart man. Satoru knew he could figure out a lot of things without being told anything at all, and right now it was just what he needed. The experience had left him unable to put into words what he wanted.

The addressed Norisawa, third in line and only a few years younger than Satoru, knelt next to his older brother and gently took the cradled arm into his own hands. With careful movements, the long sleeve was pushed up to reveal a complex pattern of red lines and symbols.

"Mamoru!" Isamu called as soon as he saw the markings. He could hear his older brother halt in his steps, right in the middle of the doorway with his sword drawn. It was typical of him to get rid of anything that endangered the clan's safety. "I know what you are thinking, and I cannot blame you for suspecting the child of using dark magic, but you must not harm him."

Satoru knew when his brother was onto something. The small frown on his face, the slightly narrowed eyes and that particular tic with his right fingers. It was all part of Isamu's 'I-am-very-close-to-figuring-this-out' set of mind, and it always made him feel more at ease when things were dangerously close to getting out of control.

A deep sigh escaped his lips and Satoru enjoyed when his body finally relaxed against the wooden wall at his back. The ache in his arm was gone, replaced by a dull soreness that spread to every joint in his body. It left him mentally and physically exhausted, and in no conditions to give orders to his clan.

"I need to lay down," he murmured, banging his head against the wall and wondering what he had just gotten into.