Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

Chapter 4

Kambei leaned against the wall outside the home the samurai were staying in, taking deep slow breaths. He'd only been asleep a few hours when a nightmare forced him back into consciousness. He couldn't even really remember much about it. Just fire, blood and screaming.

And blond hair.

His hands were shaking.

Dreams about friends he'd lost was something he was used to, that was bad enough. He'd rather not add nightmares of losing those that were still alive into the mix.

He could practically hear his grandmother going on about "bad omens" and smiled slightly in remembrance of the kind but superstitious old woman. A dream like this would have had her insisting on rituals involving very cold water, salt and forcing him to eat horrible things.

Maybe he's ask the water priestess to prepare some Firefly Gruel tomorrow just in case…

The soft sound of footsteps came from within the hut. Short and light - Heihachi. A moment later a messy head poked around the corner, peering at Kambei sleepily.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I'm sorry if I woke you."

Heihachi wandered over to the place next to Kambei, leaning against the wall and grinning up at him.

"Nah, I was already awake. A little restless, I guess."

They shared a moment of companionable silence, both staring out at the moonlit fields, before Heihachi asked in his rare serious tone, "Bad dreams?"

Kambei glanced at him from the corner of his eye and then looked back at the field. He heard Heihachi chuckle. "Yeah, didn't really expect you to answer that. That's why I'm up though. Days like today… even though we won, I think the spirits like to remind us of all we've lost. Keeps us humble I guess…"

Heihachi never ceased to amaze him. Kambei nodded his head, "I couldn't agree more. It's the thought of possible future spirits on my mind though. This war is not yet over."

"Hmmm, that makes sense, you certainly don't need to be any more humble."

Kambei shot Heihachi a questioning glance.

"Well… I have past things to atone for," Heihachi said softly, his eyes aimed out into the dark but his focus somewhere inside. "So my spirits remind me of that goal. But maybe yours are trying to remind you of the here and now, what's right in front of you - telling you not to waste it because you never know what tomorrow might hold. You're lucky to have spirits like that…" Heihachi finished quietly. Turning his gaze back toward the dumbfounded Kambei, he gave him a sad smile before heading back inside.

xxxxxxx

Kyuzo sat his heavy burden down on the ledge in relief. His trip across the canyon floor and back up the other side had been uneventful, but the Nobuseri weapon was awkward and far from light. He'd kept his senses open for any sign of the enemy in hopes of getting at least an idea of where their camp might be but with no luck. Would they have stayed with the burning and demolished airship or moved away from it? And if they had moved, would it be to the west where the fog was thickest and provided more cover or to east where they could see better but could also be seen?

Given the lack of any sound, the most likely answer was to the west. But the problem was that he was already to the west of the crash site - he'd been back and forth across the canyon and not even gotten a hint of any Nobuseri there. Were they further west or were they closer to the downed ship?

Che, how annoying…

The idea of aimlessly wandering around the canyon did not appeal to him. That was something Kastsushiro could have done.

He bounded back down the cliff face, able to use less caution now that he was familiar with the route. Once he reached the bottom, he laid himself flat out and pressed his ear to the ground and waited.

There…

The fog may have been affecting the sound but the vibrations were still there. Hmm, they were to the west of the crash site but east of his current location.

Slinking slowly in their direction, he stayed crouched low to the ground near the cliff side. After a few minutes the sound of muted metal footsteps reached him and he froze - a foot soldier. It was a mere 15 yards away when its hazy silhouette finally became somewhat visible. Kyuzo eased a step closer to rock wall, watching as the Mimizuku crossed the canyon. He stayed where he was as it turned around and followed its earlier path back across the canyon, disappearing quickly into the fog again. He waited about 10 minutes before it came back.

A patrol, then… This must be the western edge of their camp…

He continued watching it, brows furrowed as he realized that the fog would make assessing their numbers next to impossible. If only he had some way to mark it, so he wouldn't count it twice…

Maybe I should just kill it…

His eyes widened a bit at the thought. That shouldn't even have occurred to him as an option. As someone experienced with missions like this, he knew better. While it was tempting to pick off the enemy numbers when the chance presented itself, it made the likelihood of discovery much higher. On a scouting mission the main goal was to gather information and bring it back. The outcome of the battle and the lives of his comrades often depended on such information.

He saw Kambei's disapproving face in his mind and huffed irritably. They were outnumbered and fighting alongside farmers - every advantage was needed. With that rebellious thought and the oddly thrilling idea of defying Kambei in some way in mind, he pulled his blades. As if doing something he knew the man would disagree with would chase him from his mind.

He darted behind the foot soldier, expertly cutting through it in places that would keep it from smoking or exploding and catching the pieces before they could hit the ground. With that one move, he'd just blown off every piece of training he'd ever had.

And he enjoyed it.

His heart was pounding. He felt alive. He was reminded of his first encounter with Shimada Kambei. The fierce pointless battle that ensued. A battle for no reason but the challenge. He'd felt this way then, too. And once again when he'd killed Hyogo and joined Kambei in his hopeless war with farmers against the Nobuseri. All a pointless waste of his skill that would have his father and sensei turning in their graves.

Emotion was weakness. He was a tool for war, it was his only purpose. Meant to follow orders and wield his blades without question. But only in the service of those his family felt were worthy. Perfect soldiers came at a high price. That had been his life as long as he could remember. Yet, here he was. His very presence in this war was a contradiction to everything he'd been taught, so should he really be using those lessons here anyway?

His logic was thin and he knew that, but he was growing steadily addicted to making his own decisions, and… feeling.

A small smile flashed across his face as he turned to hide the pieces of his fallen opponent in the thicker western fog.