Petenshi: Hiatus time. My brain hurts.

(Bijoux had no notes to add)

The three-man guard stationed at the main gate to the capital city of Seibu weren't sure what to make of the sight. It barely lipped the horizon, it wasn't terribly large, and it looked to be moving.

Tuning out the worried mumbling of his fellow officer, one of the footsoldiers glanced up, calling to the archer on the parapet. "What's it look like from up there?"

"Some kind of weird storm. It's too small for any threatening force of cavalry."

The man who had inquired snorted. Like there was such a thing as a threatening force of cavalry in this country. Seibu's cavalry was the best there was, even beating out the much-lauded Ojou. "Even from down here I can tell that much. Dust devil, you reckon?"

"It's coming this way, if it is."

"You don't say."

"Next shift'll tell us, if we don't find out ourselves."

As it happened, the strange thing had gotten close enough to resolve into a shape by midmorning. The archer, squinting against the brightening noon light, picked out the outlines of whatever was causing the dust cloud. "You awake down there still?"

"Not sure," was the half-yawned reply.

"There's two somethings in the middle of that dirt. They're bigger than men, but I don't know if they're horses or not."

Both men on the ground perked up, heartened by the fact that there were only two of them. If it came to a confrontation, they could definitely handle two. The taller soldier, the senior of the two lancers, held out a hand for his companion's eyeglass. On receiving it, he trained it on the center of the quickly growing dust cloud. A few seconds later, he nearly dropped it in shock.

"Laguz," he breathed, and the man beside him tensed.

"Laguz, sir?" The archer on the wall above looked sharply down at him before drawing an arrow and nocking it, watching the dust cloud like a hawk does a mouse.

Though it was peacetime still, their reactions were understandable. Laguz were formally accepted in all countries, but they tended to keep to themselves in preference to mingling with the rest of the world. Even Seibu, its border country, didn't see much of the elusive shapeshifters aside from the occasional diplomat and passer-by. Inevitably, rumors flew and were subsequently blown out of proportion into tall tales and superstition.

So the three soldiers, born and raised on horrifying stories of the laguz and their ruthlessness, waited until they were within firing distance before striking. An arrow hissed toward the larger of the two; it had been meant as a warning shot, that they were in bow range and shouldn't try anything stupid, but it had missed a few inches and was now on a path for the great beast's eye. The lion had somehow anticipated the shot, though, and swerved to the left, leaving the missile to bury harmlessly into the ground.

The tiger had seen this and roared as he approached. They were close enough now for the guards to see now that they were carrying passengers on their backs. The situation looked to be a four-on-three confrontation, sparked by a panicked shot. The archer cursed himself, knowing that he may have condemned the men on the ground to death. The footsoldiers seemed to sense that, hands tightening on lances, moving well away from the walls to avoid being trapped against them.

The archer on the wall had another arrow nocked and was at half draw when they heard the voice, almost lost in the noise of the laguz advancing. "Don't shoot!" it beseeched. All three halted, puzzled and wary. Was it just them, or were the two beasts slowing down?

"Don't shoot!" it called again, much more clearly this time. An odd motion drew their eyes; they realized that the person riding the tiger was waving wildly with one arm, the other holding him onto his mount. The voice was familiar to them and it took less than a moment for them to figure out why.

"Ambassador!" the younger one cried, astonished. The laguz had drawn up and stopped just out of spear's reach, sides heaving and mouths open to pant; they had a clear view of Sena as he sat up, looking a bit worse for wear.

The older soldier held up his hand as his man opened his mouth, forestalling what was no doubt a torrent of questions. "Back so soon, Ambassador? We were told you weren't due home for another two weeks at least." He eyed the unfamiliar faces suspiciously, his attention focusing on the one who rode the lion. He was a lanky thing, bandages covering one arm to the shoulder and four raw-looking lesions going from his chin to the bridge of his nose. He watched their proceedings with an air of humor. When he saw the man was staring at him, which took not long at all, he smirked and gestured to Sena with his eyes. With a start, the man realized he was answering.

"I was... but..." Sena was out of breath from being jostled so much by Musashi; nevertheless, he stayed on the tiger's back because he didn't trust his legs to hold him. "Something's come up. You have to let me in."

The junior guard jumped to give the command to open the gates, then hesitated. "Will your... friends be coming in?" he inquired carefully, eyes on the long fangs that curved from Musashi's upper jaw.

Sena nodded. Still, the soldiers were reluctant. There was something off about that guy on the lion, aside from how angular and pointed his face was. Possibly his smile, it bordered on insane.

No sooner did they have the thought than the man laughed. It was an unexpectedly high and wheezing sort of noise, especially when compared to his normal voice, which sounded like he had some sand in his throat. "You don't trust us?"

They couldn't answer. Sena fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure who he should defend.

Their lack of response made the man laugh again, grin stretched wide enough to reopen the wounds on his lips. It didn't seem to bother him; he simply licked the blood away before speaking. "In that case, take a message to Kid."

All of the guards bristled; disconcerting presence or not, this stranger had no right to demand anything out of them. The archer was about to explain that in just as many words before Sena intervened.

"I can't go in without them. If you won't let us in, please, take the message in my name." The ambassador's eyes were pleading.

The senior guard knew an order when he heard one and sighed defeatedly. "Very well. What is it?"

The man riding the lion grinned in the most unnerving way. "Go and tell him that the Devil's dropped by for a visit. He'll understand."

Mushanokoji Shien, better known as Kid, stared at the dragon from over the steeple of his fingers. When he received the message, delivered by a young soldier with confusion and fear in his eyes, it took all his self-control not to show any more reaction than a shocked raise of eyebrows. In less than an hour, the four had been escorted with speed to the capital building.

Kid watched Hiruma watching him and tried to organize his thoughts. Normally, Sena would have been in front of him instead, but he had requested leave to go and search for an old friend. Eventually, the man sighed. "A real piece of work as always, Hiruma. You never could resist being melodramatic."

Hiruma laughed his short, barking laugh. "I've told you before, don't do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Speed was of the essence and I wasn't going to wait for the fucking shrimp to go here and back without us. He'd have to explain the situation and then you'd have to order a slower man out here, and we'd probably still be sitting out there if you had."

Kid conceded the point silently, knowing all to well how true that was. "What was so urgent that you had to come here and see me in person?" He flicked a finger up at Hiruma's face. "Does it have anything to do with that?" he asked, indicating the ugly lacerations.

Hiruma's face instantly lost all traces of joviality. Kid resisted the urge to shiver at the whiplash mood change. "Damn right it does."

"Who gave you those, then?"

"Agon."

Kid remained immobile for half a minute to digest the new information. "Why? I thought you two were friends. Or at least, working together for mutual benefit."

The dragon scoffed bitterly. "Not anymore. He wants to expand his borders and he's going after you to do it. Fucking dreads asked me to help and I declined." A smirk turned the corner of his mouth up. "Another reason he's so keen on getting rid of me is that I've got something on him that he doesn't want anybody else to know about."

"Oh?" Kid leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

"Give me some time to know for sure. In the meantime, I suggest you start gearing up for war."

Kid inclined his head assentingly, eyes fixed on the paper before him. "Where were you planning to go after this?"

"Ojou."

"Logical."

"One more thing, fucking eyebrows."

Kid suppressed a smile; he'd been wondering how long Hiruma was going to hold back on that nickname. "What?"

"I want to take the fucking shrimp with me."

"You what? Why?" Kid was unable to feign nonchalance; that was the last thing he'd expected to hear.

"I want to take Sena with me to Ojou." Hiruma grinned. "It'll be good for him. Trust me."

Most people wouldn't trust Hiruma as far as they could throw him in animal form, but Kid was not most people and didn't raise the point, even in jest. "He'd better come back here, Hiruma Yoichi," he warned. "That's all I ask."

"He will." Hiruma turned, seeing himself out of the room.

As the door shut, Kid slumped in his chair with a deep breath. "This always happens," he mumbled to himself. "When things go too well for too long, they always go horribly wrong in the blink of an eye." Heaving another sigh, he started to work on the written order to marshal the army.

Sena, frankly, was thankful to be back. If the sudden appearance of and battle with Agon hadn't been enough of a jolt to his system, then the impossibly fast sprint through the night to clear the last few hundred miles between there and here had been. Though the old saying 'grace is embodied in a feline' was undeniably true, the felines in question most definitely did not make for comfortable riding. With the exception of his face, Sena's entire front side was magnificently sore; his spine felt like one long line of pain from the jerking and bumping it had sustained. Moving was an arduous task, but really, he was glad to be taking it slow for the moment.

The street he was on right now was soothingly familiar; he'd grown up here before he'd gotten a job as a courier for the government. There was the gentle hum of idle conversation all about him; one or two people called his name.

He waved back with a bright smile, noticing one increasingly louder voice. Try as he might, though, he couldn't pinpoint the source. He only realized it was coming from behind him when he paused long enough for whoever it was to slap his shoulder in a friendly manner, coupled with a greeting: "Why're you back here so early, man?"

The blow, unfortunately, triggered an electrical surge of hurt from every nerve in his arm. Sena tensed up with a hissing intake of breath, which he let out by way of a meek "Ow..."

The white-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "I didn't hit you that hard."

Sena smiled fondly and straightened his shoulders back out. "Nice to see you too, Riku."

Riku grinned and walked alongside him. "So how was Shinryuuji?"

"Terrifying. You'll probably hear all about it later today," he murmured, glancing at the sword belted to his friend's waist, almost identical to what Sena himself wore.

"Oh really? You get into a fight?"

"Kind of."

"What with?"

Sena shivered. "Don't want to talk about it."

"Ah-hmm," Riku intoned, intrigued now. He poked Sena's arm; the brunette winced. "Did who or whatever-it-was cause all of this?"

"No, that was from... riding." It wasn't totally a lie.

Riku snorted. "Nice try, they didn't send you out with a horse and you're terrible at riding them anyway. Seriously, what happened?"

"I told you, riding. I never said I rode a horse."

The swordsmaster paused, frowning in concentration before jogging to catch up with him again. "Tell me how that's supposed to make sense?"

Sena grimaced when he put his foot wrong and jerked an aching thigh muscle. "Did you see the laguz coming into the city around noon?"

"Who didn't?" Riku glanced sidelong at his friend.

"Did you see the tiger? Musashi?"

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

Riku made a huffing sound. "That's pretty awesome," he admitted grudgingly, a distinct note of jealousy in his tone.

Sena picked up on it and tried to take the edge off. "It wasn't great, it actually hurt a lot. I had to almost lay on him. And there weren't reins." The swordsmaster rubbed his still faintly-cramped hands.

The other boy hummed. "So where are you off to now?"

"Right here, actually..." Sena blinked, surprised at how far down they road they'd gotten when they were talking. Riku glanced up at the number plate and hummed again, pulling the door open and stepping inside. Sena hurried after him.

"Hey, Mamori!" the white-haired boy called, "There's someone here to see you!"

A young woman done up in the gown of a local cleric came around the corner, her expression bemused. "Rikky?" She looked past him to see the other arrival and smiled brilliantly. "Sena!"

The brunette smiled back sheepishly. "Hi, Mamori..."

She went to hug him briefly and ended up squeezing a bit too hard, setting off another flare of pain in his bruised body. He made a choked noise of discomfort and she drew back.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, knowing he was on pretty thin ice now. Riku took a few steps back. "J-just a bit banged up."

Immediately, Mamori was all business, dragging him into the back room and shoving him onto one of the beds used for the long term patients while she rifled through a bunch of cabinets. "Where are you hurt and how did it happen?" she nigh demanded, selecting some of the stronger pain-killing herbs. "Riku, would you boil some water?" The swordsmaster shrugged and went to start a fire.

Sena was trying to salvage the situation. "No, Mamori, really, I'm fine. Nothing's broken or cut, I'm just bruised."

"Bruised where?" The rifling didn't stop; she had about five different strings of medicinal plants out, along with a roll of cloth.

The brunette sighed. He knew for a fact that Mamori wasn't this fanatic over any patients except himself and Riku (when he allowed it). The special treatment wasn't unwelcome, since he knew Mamori loved them both like brothers and they loved her like a sister, but it was taxing sometimes. He figured that, since it had been a good five weeks since he'd seen her last, he wouldn't protest any further. "My whole front, arms, and legs."

Mamori nodded and flashed a smile to Riku when he brought the water in a few minutes later. The white-haired boy hastily set the clay pot on the counter, blowing on his scorched hands. The girl paused to give him an aloe leaf before crumbling one of the strings of herb into the bubbling water. After a bit of consideration, she crumbled another, longer string in and pointed at Sena. "Take your shirt off, please."

He did, cringing at the groan of protest his body put up. When he studied the damage, he saw a mottled, faint discoloration that stretched all the way down his body. Riku came close to take a look, interested, and made a sympathetic 'oof' sound, followed by a wince of his own.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you fell flat on a rock from about six feet up."

The bandages finished soaking in three minutes and Mamori had Sena skilfully wrapped in another six. A blissful feeling of relief seeped into his body; he raised his arms above his head, pleased at the lack of pain. "Thanks, Mamori."

She smiled, putting away her supplies. "You're welcome." She turned to Riku. "I'm sorry it's taken me this long to ask, but was there anything you needed?"

"Nah, nah. In fact, I should probably get going. Kid will want me back in time to start the daily drills." He stood up and waved to them both with an easygoing smile. "See you, Mamori. And you, Sena." Their replies followed just short of a door closing.

Sena sat awkwardly for another minute before getting to his feet as well. "Mamori, do you still have that staff from a while ago?"

"Hm? Yes, why?" she answered, a little distractedly.

"Good. I might bring someone by later who needs it." After all, he thought, heading out after Riku with a goodbye, he'd been useless in the fight. The least he could do was make up for it.

It took a bit of wheedling, but Kurita finally managed to convince Hiruma to go with Sena to his healer friend to look at his arm and face. He was now sitting in a chair, being stared at by Mamori. "How did this happen?" she wondered aloud, having never seen those types of wounds before.

Sena didn't know if he was allowed to say exactly what happened, so he started to try and put her off the subject. "Mamori, that's—"

Hiruma finished for him. "None of your fucking business." Sena flinched, but Mamori didn't seem at all offended by the coarse language; rather, she flashed him a disapproving look and held out the heal staff, which had started glowing at the end. Hiruma made a low hissing noise as the slashes on his face stitched themselves back together, reaching up to scratch the itching flesh.

Mamori hurriedly grabbed his wrist. "Don't, you'll make new ones." Hiruma's head snapped up to glare at her and Sena's breath caught. The dragon jerked his wrist away with a soft snarl, but the itching had faded. He sat patiently but with obvious disdain as she unwrapped his arm and examined the inflamed gashes.

"This time it'll hurt," she warned, the staff glowing again. Hiruma tensed immediately, teeth baring enough to show a ring of gum. He actively fought the overwhelming urge to claw at his arm or to knock the healer girl senseless.

In less than half a minute, the job was done and Hiruma flexed his arm experimentally. It moved smoothly and without pain. He shot Mamori a look, neither malicious nor grateful, but rather curious. He stood and dragged Sena out of the house, ignoring the protests of both.

"You're coming with us and we're leaving tomorrow, fucking shrimp."

"I'm what?" Sena paled even further when Hiruma laughed again.