Sleepwalker, chapter 6--the widening gyre, part 3

NOTE: several more instances of Jin x Yuki--yes, that's male x male-- sex in this chapter; be warned.

Usual disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Samurai Champloo, which are owned & (c) 2004-06 and forever by Manglobe, Simoigusa Champloos and Watanabe-sensei: but gods, I don't know what I'd do without them.

However, I do own Tadayo, Hiroshi, Terasaki Jiro, Akamatsu Akinori (on loan), and Masters Sengai, Jisho, and Torii Daisuke: and, my dear children, I am so sorry for this. I hope you can forgive me.

For ArielTheTempest and GeckoZero--it's as much theirs as mine. And thanks to everyone who's read this and written me a review. Reviews plus coffee equal life.

---Yes, I know it's very long. It had to be.

[Edited July 2009 to prune fangirl Japanese.]

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Juichigatsu 1672 to Shigatsu 1675.

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Yuki felt Jin settle down onto the futon, and was surprised; he'd never felt him leave. They had spent the night together, celebrating the eve of Jin's 18th birthday, and as usual after pleasure he'd slept like a log. --What did he have there?--he sat up, bundling the futon cover around him, to peer over Jin's shoulder. His onii-san sat gazing at what he held in his hands, holding it as delicately as if it were Ming porcelain: a folded, sealed document, and a long, ornate brocade bag.

"--He gave me the Mujuu. It's mine." Yuki had never heard him sound so, before: the voice of five-year-old Jin in the firefly forest, wide-eyed in awe. "All of it. Even the Sekiun Scroll." He held up the folded document; tied to it with a tasseled silk cord was a dark iron key. "It's not as if I thought someone else might get it, it's just--I thought it would be years from now--"

"...Amida Butsu." There were hardly words for something so amazing. "--and the bag?"

"Ahh--" He untied the elaborate knot and carefully slid out the contents. Yuki caught his breath. It was a handsome, antique daisho: katana and washizaki, perfectly matched, their hilts bound in indigo-blue silk and their guards engraved with a mystical-looking seal of lightning and eyes-of-Buddha. The set, he thought, was four centuries old if it was a day. --Jin stroked the katana's sheath slowly with his fingertips, took a careful grip and drew the blade. The beautiful thing gleamed in the soft morning light. They both leaned over it, reading the pure grace of its line, the supple shadowy wave of the hamon; Five Schools steel, a blade of noble lineage. This, Yuki thought, this is the sword you deserve.

"Do you remember when I first met you, how I said your sword had probably met my grandfather's? This is that sword." Jin's voice glowed with quiet pride. "I didn't know the Master had it. I thought it was gone with my house, forever."

"I wonder why he never told you. Doesn't it seem odd?--How did it come to be here?"

"Probably the ones who brought me here delivered it with me. Though if they did I wish they'd found something else, but I imagine the Shogun's men took that…" He shifted the elegant blade, letting the light play along it like bright water. It fit his hand as if made for him.

"What was that?"

"Takeda Nobukado's war banner. An heirloom of my father's. I asked the Master about it when we were selling the property, and he assured me he'd had men search the place for it, but it was gone. They probably took it as proof that they'd killed the right household." Quick bitter edge, washed away as he poured light along the blade again. "But they don't have this."

"Or the Mujuu, " said Yuki softly and thoughtfully.


Months and seasons passed, and the Mujuu struggled. They held ground, lost a step, held again; one new student, two gone; there was a constant, silent tension in the air. The truce between Jin, Yuki, the Master and the nanadan held in a wary balance. Classes went on, dojo life looking on the outside much as it ever had, but on the inside they all wondered how long this storm would build before it must break.

The Shogun's cat and tiger reappeared in the spring, and departed once more, still dissatisfied. Mariya-dono knew that one year they would not leave without his decision, and prayed that the card he had already dealt would beat whatever they set on his table.

Word from Yuki's family came regularly; his father's health was poor. His elder brother Daigoro began to hint unsubtly that he should begin thinking about his future--his real, serious future, not his foolish games of swords-and-samurai. Yuki used these letters to light the hour-candle when he came to Jin's room in the evening.

Jin slept with the deed and the key under his pillow.


One morning in the cold early spring of 1675, a messenger rode up to the Mujuu gate leading a saddled horse, and asked to be directed to Hojo Yukimaru. Within half an hour he and the messenger were seated in Mariya-dono's study, where he learned that his father was dead, and his presence in his family's house was urgently requested. Mariya-dono read his stunned reaction quickly and astutely, and assured him he had a place at the Mujuu no matter how long he might be away.

That had been a month ago. The dojo's spring break was already over, and he was seated before the kamiza shrine, grateful beyond words to be home again, gazing up in reverence at the clear blue banner. Mu. The innocence, the purity of space and silence…oh, thank all gods he was back…

Big brother Daigoro had set in on him as soon as he arrived--practical, reasonable, dull as ever. Dai knew, of course, that a dojo education was a valuable thing to have, with its stress on fine learning and a gentleman's skills as well as the sword; but really, with father gone, wasn't it time Yuki put these dreams aside? I'll give you a tour of the offices and we can talk about where you might fit in; there'll be an opening soon in the Ministry of Trade…

The Ministry of Trade: he'd sooner die. He inhaled the serene air in deep relief. The world of steel and strategy, so calm and clear. Problems the Mujuu might have, to be sure, but here he could stand and breathe; here they agreed that the dream of his life was worthwhile, that he was worthwhile….


"..Well--the school can't afford to hire anyone. The nanadan and I are the only ones who collect any salary, and we've all agreed to take cuts in pay to help the dojo." Jin considered. "Polish up your calligraphy. I notice the Master's wearing his glasses more often lately; perhaps he could use a secretary to help with his correspondence."

"That would be fine. I don't care if I make any money--hardly need it, as long as the dojo can afford to feed us. If I can just live here, that's all that matters." Quick grin. "And would I be your secretary after that?"

"My eyesight is fine.--But probably." Jin dodged Yuki's swat, studied him with rueful affection. "My Snowflake, you really were born too late. A hundred years ago they'd have sent you to the front to inspire the troops with your beauty. Captains pinning poems to your armor, vowing to die for you…you'd have been a dead hero at fifteen, and young men would pledge their love at your grave in sakura-time." He shook his head. "--Look at you. You adored every word of that."

'It's the life I should have had. I and you both. We don't belong in this world." He gazed out the doorway, a haunting darkness shading his voice. "If I have to go home and work in an office I'll be dead by the age of 20. I might not kill myself, but I'll be dead all the same. Make fun of me if you like, but the Mujuu is all I have." He managed a little smile. "That and you."

(You and the Master both, no wonder you quarrel… Jin glanced out and frowned slightly; he'd thought he heard a rider approaching, but there was no sign of a visitor coming up the path.. )


They had arrived unexpectedly and Mariya steered his guests up the back way to his rooms, side by side and forbidding as ever. More so: they weren't even bothering with the usual surface pleasantries about his health and the state of affairs in Edo. Something had gone wrong for them, and they were in a crackling bad mood. Just the Mujuu's ill-fortune to be the next stop on their list…

As soon as they were in Mariya's study Kariya turned on him and spoke without preamble. "We have come for your decision, Mariya-san, and we will not leave without it. Will you or will you not accept the Shogun's offer for Kisarazu dojo? Have you decided?"

He must have more time-- "As you see, we have not collapsed since your last visit."

"Barely. You keep the signboard painted, and very little more." Kwaidan sat at the tea table and looked at him almost sympathetically. "Are you trying to avoid the decision? Accept it; it's for the best. And it will keep you in the Shogun's good graces."

"Unlike the house we've just come from--but we won't speak of that." Kariya removed his straw hat. "Mariya-san, we will reside here until we have your word. We realize this is sudden; any quarters will be fine for us."

And without an hour's warning, he had suddenly in residence the doom of his dojo, and an immovable deadline.

There was no more time; he had dreaded this moment, but it was upon him. He must tell his heir the full truth of the shogun's request.


"--Oh, no. Not this time." Yuki looked up from his biwa in dismay as Jin rose to answer a tap at the door. Urgent whispering--he already knew what he would hear next.

"I'm sorry, Yuki, but the Master requires--"

"Does the Master ever not require your presence?" He couldn't pretend it didn't hurt. "I've been gone so long, and all I want is a quiet night with you. Do you have to go?" Sigh, looking at his face. "--Of course, you do. I know--when they begin serving dinner I'll bring some over, and we'll eat together when you get back. How's that?"

Jin managed a tired smile. "That sounds perfect. I shouldn't be late, ototo."

The sliding door brought in the smell of rain, and he was gone. Yuki sighed, and sank back into the sound of the strings, his fingers handling the bachi as his mind drifted. He'd played for his mother almost every night he was home, she'd said it helped her sleep...poor mama-san…and all she'd wanted to hear were geisha songs, of which he knew a rather unmanly number.

All these are is women crying over men, mama-san; doesn't it make you too sad?

No, love; it can be comforting to know someone else has felt the same pain you feel.

And she was right; when he sat waiting for Jin, those were all he ever played.

He sang it softly to himself:

The world listens little to the lute-strings of the heart…
I wish to keep him, but he will go to his own.
I call him back, but he goes to his own.
The spring frogs sing in their own rice field
And the water there.
The world is leaving me. Night rain.


The food he'd brought was nearly cold when the door finally slid open, but the look on Jin's face silenced any remark; Yuki stifled a gasp of shock. "Merciful One--what did he say to you!"

Jin dropped onto the futon and huddled into a silent ball, long legs drawn up and wrapped in his arms, head pressed into his knees. Yuki went to his side. "Onii-san--" --folded arms around him, stroked his head, genuinely frightened. "Please tell me, please."

A long silence before he forced out any words at all.

"Yuki, please go." The voice was agonized, breathless.

"What? I can't leave you like this. What happened?"

"Please. I can't tell you anything. Leave me alone."

"But--"

" Leave me alone."

It was too much; pain, frustration and worry boiled over uncontrollably. "No! I can't stand this anymore! The Mujuu's important to me too, and you even more. I can't help if you won't tell me anything! Gods, look at you--" he held Jin's shoulders, tried to see his face--

"--Yuki--" --still not raising his head. "If you hear this, you will be in the worst pain of your life. That's not something I want to cause. Please, love." He couldn't bear the hoarse anguish of Jin's voice. "Go and let me think. If there's a way to tell you I will, but not now."

And it couldn't be helped; he collected his biwa, went to the door, stepped out into the rain.


Assassins. The shogun wanted them to train assassins. And Mariya-dono was prepared to allow that, to keep the school open, even as a skeleton, a dead, rotten shell of itself...it was beyond words, unspeakable. Contempt for the school was bad enough; but that his master, his father, thought so little of him, to trick and cheat him this way--to leave him, all of them, nothing at all--

He'd protested, and Mariya had cut him down at once, coldly, bitterly. "Takeda-kun, in all these years, you have never thought beyond yourself. In your heart your sword is for you alone, and for your own enemies. You see too well; you strike too quickly; you are arrogant and proud, and you must learn to serve. As you are told to serve."

He couldn't bear it; he wanted to die. He buried his face in his knees and wept.


His morning class with Mariya was worse than he'd feared; they could scarcely bear to look at each other, and Jin was so distracted that he lost a sparring match, something unheard of (Masato actually apologized for beating him). Yuki shot him worried glances but didn't dare approach him; pale and drawn, he was the Dojo Ghost of the old days, watching the Master like a starved animal. There were whispers and startled stares, and everyone cleared the mat in seconds when class was dismissed, leaving only Master and disciple to face each other.

"I know you're angry, Izumiyori. I understand your anger."

"You can't possibly understand. Making the Mujushin kenjutsu into a clan of assassins? Are you telling us to walk the path of darkness? And you give me this as a gift?"

(Not Master, not Father, not even his name; Jin's eyes were as cold as a stranger's.)

"It is the Shogun's service."

"But it's wrong. It's no longer the warrior's way."

Mariya met the dark, bitter eyes, torn with pain: he almost wanted to scorn the boy's idealism, tell him that the way of bushido and honor was not enough anymore. Yet with all his heart he wished it were enough, and couldn't say such things--not to Jin, who already felt so betrayed and abandoned--

He had one thing to offer at least, one way his son might still not hate him.

"Izumi--- Jin. If the Mujuu is to stand, you must endure this. All of us, but especially you."

He looked down at his folded hands.

"I gave you the deed to this school, knowing full well what the Shogun wanted," quietly, "because you are my hope. Whatever I may say…or be forced to say…to Kariya Kagetoki, still the Mujuu cannot fall into their hands without your consent. It is yours, not mine. " He saw the light of sudden comprehension in the boy's eyes, felt able to breathe for the first time since last night. "You see the desperate game I play. If you can see a way out, then the Mujuu may yet be saved. Only you can do this. There are old bonds on me that I cannot break, but you're free to act."

"…I see." Jin rested his head in his fingers. "I've never beaten you at shougi. Are you so sure I can see a path you cannot?"

"I said that you see too well…If anyone can, it is you."

"--My class will be waiting for me." His son--still, for a moment, his-- rose from the mat, drew a deep breath. "How long do we have?"

"They will be here until we decide."

We decide… He bowed. "Master."


Thank all gods, his class had heard nothing of any of this, and was as lively and innocent of the world's horrors as ever. He soaked up their bright energy gratefully as he walked to the front of the training room, apologizing for his lateness.

"Tadayo-kun just got here himself, " put in Akinori innocently, "he had to entertain the Master's guest while he was meeting with someone…" (---Tada and Aki, 17 and 18 now, should technically have been studying with Jisho or Sengai, but they had petitioned to stay with their favorite sempai, and as no one doubted Jin's ability to teach the next levels, it had been permitted. It made sense, actually; he wondered if the Mujuu shouldn't consider having one teacher stay with a student through his whole training…)

Tadayo, blushing, was glaring silent daggers at Aki; Jin, pulled out of his thoughts, was caught off guard.

"--The Master has guests?" (More guests? Merciful Amida…)

And they spilled over each other to tell him; beautiful Torii Daisuke, the muteki-ryu master who had given Jin his teaching certificate and the duel of his life, had arrived that morning, alone, urgently requesting audience with Mariya-dono.

"--and someone had to wait on him while he was in the Master's sitting-room, neh? And bring him tea and make sure he was comfortable? Well, Tadayo-kun just happened to be idle…"

"Akinori.." muttered Tada, but his eyes gave him away; he had had the morning of his dreams. Even Jin remembered his sighing crush on the handsome swordmaster, and couldn't help but be amused.

"Well, let us be glad that Tadayo-kun's patience has been rewarded, and proceed, please. Gedan stance, first style."

(…but why was he here? Why now?…I wish Tada-kun's crush was the only thing behind this…)


He saw the straight-backed shape sitting outside his door as he came up the path, and drew a deep breath.

Yuki got up as he approached, shoulders squared determinedly. "Onii-san--"

Let out the breath. "Come in, little brother."

They settled on the futon, sitting face to face, and Jin tried to decide where to start, knowing if he took too long Yuki would start for them. He did, but not as expected.

"--dear love--are you all right?"

He'd been braced for impatience or angry assertions, but not that--or the look of heart-touching worry and concern that came with it--and his defense gave way on the spot.

"Snowflake--"

They fell into each other's arms as if it had been years, clung together.

"You have to tell me. Please, please tell me. I can't stand thinking about it another minute."

"---I can't."

"But--you can trust me!" He couldn't bear feeling so useless. " I need to do something, this is--"

"The Master did not give me leave to tell." Jin's voice was dark and exhausted. "I know you want to help me, but don't ask again. Please. This trouble is his and mine."

At last, he has what he wanted, Yuki thought meanly, you all to himself again, no one else allowed. --But he couldn't leave it there, not with the awful weight in Jin's voice, the way he leaned into Yuki as if near collapse. He doesn't need my sword…but he needs me. Even if all I can be is some comfort, like a cat that it soothes him to stroke…

"…all right. If just having me here is some help…"--painful sigh--"I'm here."

"More than you know." He hooked his chin over Yuki's shoulder; there was an edge of dread in his voice that made his little brother shiver. "The Mujuu is all I have--all you have. And we could lose it. The one we most trusted…he's gambled everything on me. And I don't know what to do, I don't know, Yuki." He buried his face in the dark green silk, trembling, and Yuki held him tight.

(Yuki forced back a surge of raw panic; it was as he'd looked out the window and seen a tsunami bearing down on them. What could he mean? What terrible thing was happening? The Mujuu was his only refuge, his only chance---if Jin couldn't --)

"I wish we were living in your dream world," said Jin, softly and fiercely, fast. "I wish we'd both died young and beautiful heroes and didn't have to bear this. But I must bear it. Somehow I have to save us."

"You can. You will." Yuki kissed his neck. "You've got to."

It was like a knife. Even you…

"If I can't do this, will you hate me?"

…a long, long moment. "I could never hate you, onii-san. Ever."

Jin closed his eyes. But you'll never forgive me…

There is a way. There must be.


Though holding each other in a quiet room seemed the only thing they could bear to do, they both felt the same apprehension, a need to be out and alert. Yuki decided to skip his archery class --it didn't seem at all wise for him to handle a bow in this state (and besides, I doubt I could hit any target smaller than Hiroshima Castle…)--but Jin had floor-polishing duty, and that seemed a good, calming task for them both. They straightened up clothes and hair and stepped back out into the day.

Jisho was sitting outside his door, and rose when he saw them. "Jin-san--we've learned something you'll want to know." Significant glance. "As soon as you're free to talk."

Quick glance at pale, resolved Yuki. Firmly: "Anything you can say to me, you can say to Hojo-kun."

"Like that, is it? Very well.-- You know of course that Torii-dono is here, but you may not know why." The affable master looked unusually grim. "His dojo was visited by two Shogunate observers--by his description, the same two we have with us now."

"They're back?" Yuki, puzzled. "And he followed them here?"

"No, no, he doesn't even know they are here. He was most disturbed by the visit and sought out the counsel of an older master. Unluckily, he chose ours. --And considering that he's quartered down here in the instructors' rooms, while Kariya and his dog are in the main house, I'd guess that Mariya-san hopes to keep them apart as long as possible."

"But why? Because they'll quarrel?" Now Jin was the one puzzled. "Surely Torii-dono wouldn't stoop to killing a bureaucrat."

"A bureau--" Jisho stared at them. "You don't realize who that is? That's Kariya Kagetoki."

Politely blank looks from both young samurai. Jisho sighed.

"Of course, at your age, you've never heard of him…But that man was famous years ago, the most feared assassin in the Shogun's service; a swordsman of the highest skill. They called him the Gods' Hand. It's said he retired from duty only when he saw no fighter left who could offer him a challenge." Wry smile. "Mariya-san says he's rather flattered that a man of such fame has been sent to deal with us."

"Then of course he wants them kept apart. It would be even worse for us if the Shogun's man were killed in the course of his duties." Jin remembered the blinding swiftness of the muteki master's attack, no one not trained in seeing the invisible could counter it even for an instant…the assassin had no chance. Gods, what a mess that would be…

He rubbed the knot between his eyes with a long forefinger. "Thank you, Jisho-dono. If I'm needed for anything, I'll be waxing the floors."


Jin and Yuki polished the training room floors. They sank with deep gratitude into the Zen simplicity and harmony of a task they'd performed since childhood, skimming over the yellow pine floors like swallows on a lake, one from the east end, one from the west. Back and forth, the sweet honey-lemon smell of the paste wax, the warm silence of the wide familiar space, no sound but the echoed soft pounding of stockinged feet running from wall to wall, wall to wall. Why could it not be this way forever...it was all he wanted, all he asked…Yuki was grateful that the polishing cloth he gripped in both fists caught his tears as they fell. He would do this humble service with a glad heart all his life, if only he were allowed to, but it seemed so certain that it was being torn away…

Lose yourself. Be in the now. Wall to wall.. . this is peace, this is right…caught a glimpse of Jin as they passed: eyes closed, face serene, completely one with the movement, the rhythm, this act of deep and simple devotion. Yes. Don't think. Be in no-abiding-mind, be here, now, just in this moment. His breathing eased. This is right…this is right.

They worked for hours, and the old floors gleamed.

Finally, there wasn't enough light to see, and they gathered up their utensils. Yuki thought Jin would suggest going back to his room--hoped so, truly--but instead he said, "Let's go over to your rooms and eat with everyone. It shouldn't be too late."

And he'd seen the look in Jin's eyes. You want to be just a student, one of us, for a little longer. Poor big brother...you never did get to be a boy…

So they brought their trays back to the junior quarters, and relaxed in the wash of normal, ordinary chatter Akinori made sly comments about Tadayo's notable absence and what he might be up to; Hiroshi scowled uneasily; Yuki teased him, and Jin closed his eyes.

In the sea of Ise', ten thousand feet down, lies a single stone; I wish to pick up that stone without wetting my hands.

The koan seemed to enclose his dilemma; if it could be solved, he might see the way. He let them chatter on, and let it resonate, mindful, watchful.


Yuki half-woke to a scent of sandalwood, and good memories made him smile dreamily and reach for Jin, but he was not lying there. He opened his eyes; by the dim light it was barely past dawn. The last inch of the candle they had brought back from Edo was burning in the candle-dish on Jin's little shrine, beside the Ryokai mandala, and Jin sat on the futon facing it, crosslegged and head bowed. He whispered something; praying, Yuki thought, or--no, he knew the Zen koan. In the sea of Ise', ten thousand feet down, lies a single stone…

Yuki understood, and did not disturb him. Bit his lip: can't I do anything? ….

Just love him. Love him, and don't be in his way.

He pressed his head against Jin's knee, kissed it, and sank back into sleep.


Jin sighed; it was no clearer to him. Perhaps the morning air would help. He rose carefully, slid the door and stepped outside--

--and stepped instantly back. Torii-dono had been given the vacant room next to his, and at the moment he was standing in its doorway, kissing Tadayo, so sweetly and thoroughly that Jin caught his breath.

Well.--Couldn't help but observe that Akinori had been right, not that anyone'd doubted it. He heard the man's chuckle.

"Don't be embarrassed, Takeda-kun; Tadayo is just leaving."

"It's not my embarrassment I'm thinking of, Torii-dono." Jin stayed inside his threshold, out of sight.

An obviously blushing squeak. "Sempai--"

Now deeply amused. "Tadayo-kun, I can't see you, and therefore I can't tell anyone I did."

"There, ototo. Now off with you." Sound of another soft kiss. "I have an audience with your Master this morning, so this may be my last day here, but I hope I'll see you tonight. Here--take this and think of me."

" 'til later, Torii-san. Thanks, Jin-sempai." And he was off down the path with a flash of bright red. Another chuckle from Torii.

"Please come out now, Takeda-kun, I've been hoping to talk with you." The muteki-ryu master padded out, barefoot and clad only in juban, river of black hair spilling almost to his knees. He settled crosslegged on the wide doorstep, laid down a bone comb and two tasseled red silk ribbons--his signature ornament still, apparently. Jin sat down beside him, feeling oddly shy of such informality. Time had only polished that fine-boned ivory beauty--he was quite the handsomest man Jin'd ever seen.

But he was perfectly businesslike as he picked up the comb and began parting his hair. "Or perhaps I should say 'Takeda-dono', as I gather we're colleagues now."

Lowered his head: "I won't own the Mujuu until Mariya-dono hangs up his sword."

"He seems too ready for that day to come." Torii grimaced. "I came here expecting good advice and resolve, and I found neither." The bitter edge of his voice faded into sadness. "I've always admired your master; he and my sensei were comrades, and he acquired the Mujuu when he was no older than I am now. I just can't believe that such a man would surrender so easily. Something is wrong here…" He finished dividing the black waterfall into four equal streams, picked up the red ribbons--there were two--and looked rueful as he pinned them into place. "I'm used to doing this with three, but we'll improvise.--Does it not seem odd to you that the Shogunate is so intent on acquiring the Schools of the Mind? Like Niwa-san's, and yours and mine?'

"Yes, I've been puzzled by that myself." It was such a relief to talk about it openly. "The Shogun employs ninja assassins already, and I've read that ninjutsu is most refined and subtle. Why does he need more? And why especially swordsmen?"

"I think that's precisely it--ninjas use the sword, but they don't focus on it as we do. My feeling is--"he tapped the comb thoughtfully in his palm--"it's not so much the Shogun as this man Kariya. He has some secret theory of the sword all his own, some mystery school he wants to develop, and he's using the Shogun's mandate to collect the dojos he wants to play with. --Did you know he was trained in the Mujuushin kenjutsu?"

"Kariya? The assassin?" He was shocked. "Not at all."

...should he tell Torii-san that the man was here? The Master had not, it seemed; he must still hope that Torii would leave without ever crossing his path…

"That he was, and by your master's own sensei, Ichiun Odagiri himself. Even more reason to hate him." Torii shook his head, glanced over at Jin. "It offends you to your soul--I can feel it. This art to you is as pure as fresh snow."

"I will never let that man have the Mujuu. " The quiet voice was a sheathed sword.

Torii nodded, plaiting the red ribbons into his hair: a complex, four-strand braid, his fingers as quick and deft as his blade. "Do you know the saying: 'blue made out of indigo is bluer than indigo; ice from water, colder than water'? I thought of it the day I met you, when I saw your color." Brushed the blue sleeve with a fingertip. "It means that the pupil who only reflects what he is taught will never go beyond the lesson, but the one who refines and perfects the art will be greater than his teachers. That is you--I feel sure of it." Sigh, added wryly, "If we can keep you alive long enough to inherit it…"

"What?"

Torii looked at him keenly, curious. "Has Mariya-dono told you anything about Kariya-san?"

Bitterly: "Only what he's here for. I've never even seen his face, just his hat."

"I thought as much." He tied off the red cords in a square knot, laid a hand on Jin's shoulder. "Keep your eyes open and your sword sharp, kitsune-san; there's much more to this than you know."

Almost too surprised to speak--then made up his mind. Met the fine dark eyes directly. "And you as well, Torii-dono, until you are safely home."

"Is that so?" Sharp, thoughtful look as he got to his feet. "Then I will bid you farewell, Takeda-dono, and good luck. Take care of Tadayo-kun for me."

Slowly, trying to read him. "Until later, Torii-dono. We'll speak again before you go."

He sat outside for a long while before going back to Yuki. Kitsune-san? Is he just telling me that he knows who I am? Or--is he warning me that they know?…


As he walked up the path in the warm morning sun, Torii Daisuke wondered at the dark impulse that had made him say farewell so finally; he had intended to be encouraging, to speak of the battle ahead of them both, fellow masters of the higher art…

Then he saw who was approaching him, and ceased to wonder.

They stood in silence, impossible to tell which was the more taken aback. Torii found his voice first.

"Can I go nowhere without seeing you, Kariya?"

"I could ask you the same. What does bring you here?" The deep even voice was edged with suspicion. "I hope I don't see you allying with the Mujuu to defy the Shogun's will."

Torii sighed harshly; these kougijin saw rebellion and conspiracy in every shadow… "No such. I came here for Mariya-san's advice, no more." He could not contain his anger. "Instead I found him trapped in the same web you cast to snare me. How many schools do you have under your hat?"

"Only this one, but it is the prize of them all." Kariya smiled silkily, almost in bliss. "A rare privilege, to train the child of a kitsune; who knows what gifts he may hide…"

Torii blinked; but--
And suddenly he saw Mariya's plan.
"Are you so sure of that?"

Startled by Torii's bluntness. "I have just met with Mariya; I have his signature here." Kariya touched his sleeve.

Slow smile of admiration: old fox, I should never have doubted you. "But Mariya-san no longer has the right to sign such things; he's already named his heir."

"What?"

The smooth mask of triumph slipped, and Torii saw the master-assassin's real face, the narrow, blade-cold eyes, the sudden apprehension and fury of a predator unsure of what had seemed such certain prey. And he felt at peace; everything slid into place as smoothly as ice in water. This was why he was here, this was the battle and death destined for him. He would fall, but he would save his school and the noble Mujuu from this black stain on the honor of the sword.

His smile was calm now, serene. A party of students ran by, casting them startled looks as they went, and he blessed them in his heart.

"Mariya-san has given the Mujuu to his adopted son, the finest young swordsman I've ever seen." He laid his hand on his katana-hilt. "The greatest master of the Dreaming Sword has come, you traitor, and he is resolute that it will never belong to you."

"He'll pay for that." The assassin reached for his blade. "And you as well, for your arrogance."

"As you wish," They shifted into an opening stance, sandals crunching in the stone path. Torii Daisuke was glad to the bottom of his heart, drew a deep breath of the sweet spring air. "We'll see, master Kariya, if the Heijo muteki-ryu can match the speed of the Hand of God."

With a ring and flash of blades in the sun they engaged, and the man's opening sally was fast but wide, easily parried. Torii's heart filled with joy, it could be, would be done; the pure shimpo kenjutsu would avenge itself. Matched him, and again, stepped forward to break his block, sure-footed: he could see the attack that would cut the assassin through, just in an instant--

--in an instant--

--a lance of ice ran through him.

He'd never even seen the blade move.

It pulled back out and he felt his life go with it.

No--no, he couldn't--he raised his sword in both hands, lunged desperately, blood streaming like red ribbons--

The assassin stepped aside and let him fall.

He lay in the stone path, gasping in agony, and even sharper shame…was that one boy he saw, standing there, staring in horror? I'm so sorry--whoever you are…

"What a pity, Torii-san. Now your school will surrender easily. As this one will."

No, he tried to say, no…Jin will…

Tadayo---

He heard the assassin walk away down the stone path.


"But everyone knows you're a Takeda, Jin-sempai, that's no mystery." He was eating breakfast with Yuki's gang of friendsin the main dining hall, near-empty now, no more than a few dozen students in residence.

"True. But the Master has always told people that I come from some far-off branch of the clan, not from House Takeda of Kai."

"And why's that?" Tadayo was doing his best to seem just as usual, but his absence all night and his almost visible glow of happiness had been missed by no one. Akinori was plainly burning to demand details, but Jin had trodden firmly on his foot the moment his mouth opened, and Yuki--just as curious-- kept himself still with difficulty. Had he? Had he really?--

Jin smiled slightly, gazing into his teacup. "Because the Tokugawa fear the House of Kai. The Morimoto bloodline breeds great warriors. Shingen. Yoshitsune. Such men are too dangerous now." His voice was calm and thoughtful, but it made the whole table hush. "If a son of that house is alive, he'd do well to live somewhere quiet, and not make himself known." He finished the cup. "But of course there's no such."

"Of course not," agreed Hiroshi, straight-faced. "We'd have heard."

Poor Akinori, who'd joined the dojo after scary Jin stories went out of fashion, was totally at sea. "---Ah---he called you a kitsune, so he knows something about your family?"

And Yuki was about to enlighten him when Terasaki Jiro burst through the door, sobbing like a child.

They turned as one to stare as Jiro looked around wildly, spotted Jin and came to his table as fast as his stumbling run could carry him. Jin stood, caught the boy as he pitched forward, gasping for breath.

"Tak--Takeda-dono--it's Master Torii--he's--" Jiro raised anguished eyes to his face. "--he's dead! That man with the hat, the Shogun's man, he killed Master Torii! I saw it!"

He said--he said "farewell" to me, not just "goodbye". He knew. Somehow--

Tadayo was pale as rice paper; Yuki was staring at the scarlet ribbon knotted around the hilt of Tada's tanto as if just realizing where he'd seen it before; Jin gripped Jiro by the shoulders. "Terasaki-kun, this is a very serious charge. Are you absolutely sure it was Kariya-san?"

"Yes! They were arguing and--Torii-dono even said so. He said--said--" The boy caught his breath. " 'Master Kariya, we'll see if the Heijo muteki-ryu can match the Hand of God.' "

The wail that tore out of Tadayo was dreadful beyond words. The dining hall was as still as stone. Oh, Merciful Ones-- Hiroshi caught Tada by the arm, he tried to tear free; Jin set Jiro on his feet.

"Show us where he is. Yuki, come with me. Hiroshi, you too, and hold onto him."

Yuki caught his arm. "Are you sure he should come?"

"If it was me, you would. Hurry."


He had been run straight through, and lay in his blood, the beautiful unmarred face as white as porcelain, a drift of early plum and cherry blossoms gathering around him. Tadayo was sobbing into his chest, heedless of the red flow he knelt in; Hiroshi held him from behind. Jiro was telling Jin in a broken whisper what little of the quarrel he'd heard--

"I'll kill him."

So quietly he almost missed it, Tadayo's head lowered, voice near a whisper. Jin started toward him.

"Tada--"

"I'm going to kill him. He can't beat me, I'm dead already." Fiercely shook off Hiroshi's grip. "Let me--" Yuki circled behind him, Jin moved in to pin him against Yuki, both of them holding him down--"--Roshi, let me go! Let go of me!" Struggling ferociously, tears streaming, he drew the tanto from his sash and struck out blindly. Hiroshi dodged; Jin dropped forward, caught his wrists in both hands, pinned him to the grass.

"Tadayo. Tadayo-kun, listen." Pressed a fist under the boy's jaw, forced him to meet Jin's eyes. "You see that wound. It passed his defense as if it weren't there. I fought Torii-dono; he was the fastest swordsman I've seen, but Kariya beat him. He would kill you in a moment, Tadayo. One moment."

"He already has." Tadayo's voice was drained, grey. "He can't do any worse to me now."

Sensing the rage had passed, Jin stroked his jaw compassionately. "I am so sorry, Tada-kun..."

"Daisuke…he asked me to live with him. Teach at the Muteki-ryu and..and be his..." The boy's eyes closed. "Just leave me here with him. Please."

Someone had to tell the Master about this. Something would have to be done. Even a Shogunate official couldn't--

"--you two, look after him."

Jin headed for the nanadan's rooms, fast. Poor Tada…if that were Yuki lying there, gods forbid, I'd challenge Kariya too.

But.. I might win…

He forced back the thought and ran on.


They faced each other across the tea table once more, just the two alone. No tea, no gestures of courtesy, Mariya deliberrately slighting his visitor's high status in his outrage.

"You, a guest in my house, on official business, have wantonly killed a respected master, also my guest, a friend to the Mujuu and to me and my son. I would not permit the Shogun Himself to insult my courtesy and my school's good name this way. Explain yourself, Kariya-dono."

The assassin folded his hands on the table, met Mariya's gaze squarely, matching his anger.

"Talk of courtesy and honor is strange from one who's planned so carefully to cheat the Shogunate."

"What?"

"Stop lying, Mariya." The voice snapped like a whip. "Torii-san told me that this contract you gave me is worthless. You've already passed Kisarazu dojo to your son and heir."

It took all his control to keep his expression calm. Why had Torii given him away so? But there it was, said and done--

"And that's not all there is to this plot of yours, Mariya." The tiger leaned forward, eyes pinning his, almost glowing with the heat of contained anger. "How long did you think you could hide that boy? Was that your plan from the very first? To give the Mujuu not only to a kinsman, but to the last one we'd ever suspect--the one you yourself were supposed to have sent to death?"

It was all collapsing around him--unraveling with every word--somehow he managed to speak.

"How long have you known he didn't die that night?"

Long pause. "Of all the men in that hunting party to Kai eleven years ago, I was the only one who had ever seen the Takeda boy alive."

Mariya stopped breathing. "--You were with that party?"

"Of course, I was Captain of the Guard."

I'm just a plain soldier, with no such skills, Kwaidan had told him. It was our Captain of Guard, if it eases your mind to know it.

"Not possible," he said aloud. "You had retired from the Shogun's service by then."

"As I am now. But I accept special assignments now, as then. And the eradication of the blue blood of Kai was a special assignment, indeed."

It was more than he could bear; he could not hear one further word. Not only had he handed his beloved Mujuushin, now Jin's, to the Shogunate; he had handed it to the man who had personally slain Jin's family. Into those very hands.

"As I say--I had seen him alive. His father brought him to some function once, and I remember him well. Especially those eyes. Grey eyes, most unusual. Not something you'd forget.

"That night in the Takeda house, we found a dead child, and the others thought it was enough. But I wanted to be sure; I began to check his eyes. And then the sentry cried out that a party of horsemen was in sight. I confess, Mariya-san, I wondered if you might have changed your mind and warned your kinsmen after all."

Mariya did not respond. The assassin shrugged. "No matter now. We had to rush, and I contented myself with a reasonable surety. But I was uneasy…it was a bad risk…

"And then, years later, my good friend Taira Shigehide mentioned that he'd officiated at a teaching exam at your school, for an excellent student, one of the best he'd ever seen. Almost surely the next master of the Mujuushin, he thought. And he mentioned the boy's eyes…such unusual grey eyes." Kariya nodded thoughtfully. "Torii-dono said exactly the same thing… 'the greatest master of the Dreaming Sword'…"

"He was hard to trace, I'll say that. You kept him hidden away well, out of the public eye. When I had Kwaidan ask about him, three years ago, you said what you'd always said, I'm sure: yes, he's a Takeda, but an insignificant Takeda, from a minor branch of the family. Not a Morimoto pearl. No need to worry about this one." Smile. "But those few papers on file, they tell the tale. --First, one Takeda Izumiyori appears and sells property in Kai--property to which you had been given the deed--in your name, with your dojo to benefit."

(Of course. Sign it with your full name, he'd said. And Jin had: with what had been his full name then. And it had to be so, since had it not been signed by a Takeda the deal would not have been final, the money not forthcoming, money they'd needed so badly…what a curse it was…)

"Then Takeda Izumiyori vanishes, and Mariya Izumiyori appears, your son and heir. And now this same Izumiyori holds the deed to the Mujuu. The fox who had slipped the pack and gone to ground emerged again, clever and lucky as all his clan…" Kariya shook his head. "I'm not sure how he came here, or how you managed it, but you raised to manhood the very one of his line the Shogun most wanted dead: the scion of the Takeda of Kai."

Mariya, in pain, said the only thing he could think of. "He'll not be easy to kill."

"As things stand, I can't kill him. You're a clever man, Mariya." The assassin paced the floor. "Not only is he your legal heir, thus a Mariya, not a Takeda; but he also stands to inherit a prize I want very badly. Your contract with us isn't worth a dead leaf if the heir to the Mujuu doesn't sign it as well; he can claim we made no deal with him, and the dojo slips through my fingers. I bow to you, Mariya-san: these are surely the skills with which you won a thousand duels." And bow he did.

"Spare me your praise. How can I save my son?"

"Make sure he signs the same contract you have signed. That's all. If he'll abide by those terms, he's safe from me."

"And if he will not?"

The tiger smiled. "Make sure he does."


They were sitting with Torii-dono, in the small temple by the willow garden. He had died far from home, with no other mourners; someone must sit through the day and night with him, keeping company with his soul. The nanadan had washed his body and dressed him in a clean, white juban; oil lamps were burning, and pine incense. Sengai had gently placed water between his lips, and turned his head to the north.

"Do you four all wish to stay?"

Yes, they did.

"Very good. --Jin-san, a word with you, please."

Tadayo had not stirred since they sat down, his eyes fixed on Torii's pale face. Hiroshi stayed at his side, gazing not at Torii but at him, a look of sorrow and longing that said he would gladly take Tadayo's pain if he could. Yuki watched him, the look in his eyes, the awkward, gentle way he touched Tadayo's arm from time to time, and it slowly occurrred to him that there was something Hiroshi wished he could say, something Tadayo would never expect from his big, plain, quiet friend…

Jin returned, knelt down and spoke quietly. "Yuki, will that colt of yours wear a harness?"

It was good to think his spotted Meryuu could do this solemn service. "Yes. He was Mother's errand-horse while I was gone. "

"Good, we can probably borrow a harness and cart in the village. If a lady's been driving him he'll know how to mind his manners." He touched Tadayo's shoulder gently. "Tada-kun--do you want to go with Sengai-dono? He wants to leave for the muteki-ryu early in the morning."

Deep breath. "Yes. I do."

"Then please come and speak to him.--Just for a moment."

Yuki let the silence be a moment before speaking aloud. "You should tell him how you feel, 'Roshi."

'It wouldn't matter. I'm not the type he'd notice." Gently, resigned.

"But it's so unfair to you…"

"No. Tada only sees his heroes. He came here because he thought so much of the Master, and then he saw Torii-dono and forgot all about Mariya-san… I'm not beautiful or gifted. And that's all right. As long as we're both here together, it's enough for me."

"I know just how you feel," said Yukimaru.

Tadayo came back, glancing over his shoulder. Jisho was trotting down the path; as they watched, he spoke to Jin, and they left together.


"But--you said you wanted me to find a way out--"

They were sitting together in the kamiza shrine in the warm afternoon.

"It was a vain hope, and I regret burdening you with it." Mariya rested his brow on his fingertips. "But we're forced to concede. We have gambled and lost and we must accept it."

"We can't accept it. That man killed Torii-dono--will he now say he had some agreement with him, and claim the muteki-ryu by default? And what other schools?" Jin's fists clenched. "Master, all of bujutsu is in danger--the warrior's honor, everything we revere. The Mujuu must stand against it. We must."

Deep painful breath. "Izumiyori…I am so proud of you." With all his heart he wished his son's passion and pride made a difference. In an older world…you always have belonged there… "But you've seen what that man will do. He knows who you are; he won't hesitate to kill you if he sees any sign of rebellion. You're exactly the one that he most fears and hates."

"You knew that, and still you saved me. Have I not been worth it?" Such pain in the wide eyes, like a child's. "Why can't you have faith in me now?"

Mariya rested both hands on the thin, sloping shoulders. "Because if you die, the true Mujuu ends with me. You must live, no matter what form the school takes, even in shame. Jin, please endure it. Bear it and wait. A chance will come."

"No." Felt Jin's spine straighten, shoulders tighten, his whole frame fill with resolve. "Not for a single day. It would poison the dojo and all that we live for." He gripped Mariya's shoulders in turn, searched his face, even now thinking he might take heart. "Father, I will find a way. Please, you called me your hope; believe me. If we stand together I know we can win."

He lowered his eyes. "You won't sign the agreement. Even to save yourself."

"I will not." Jin released him, leaned back; the light left his face. "Forgive me. I can't."

The pain was so great that he could not stand. All they had gone through…all his hope of gaining forgiveness by saving this one life, that he loved, that now no skill could spare. He was unworthy of it, but he reached for it just once more; he drew Jin close and held him for a moment, drawing a deep breath. Once you were small enough to carry in my arms…

"Dear son, forgive me if you can."

Unexpectedly gently. "I do, father."

The very air was bitter in his throat. He had traded others' lives for peace, and he would pay by losing everything, he knew that now: down to the last, to the final drop of blood in his heart. He had a terrible sense that he should say sayonara.

"Then--there is one last thing that I have to teach you…"


"I don't think I'll come back."

"What?"

"From the muteki-ryu. I think, if they'll have me, I'll stay and finish my training there." Tadayo's voice was quiet, drained, his head barely above the straw mat. "I couldn't live in this place anymore."

"But--" Poor Hiroshi.

"--Yuki-chan, be honest. Are things going to get better at the Mujuu or worse?"

He was too weary to think clearly: they had talked until they dissolved in tears. "I don't know…it depends on Jin."

"I knew you'd say that…You don't know how I envy you." Tadayo gazed out the temple door. "You found the most wonderful guy, and he fell in love with you, just like that. I hoped and prayed for years I'd be that lucky…and then for a minute I was, but..I guess not." Slowly stroked Torii's sleek hair. "Don't you and Jin ever break up. Even if the Mujuu falls down around your ears, stay together. Love like that is the greatest thing you'll ever have."

Said all he could think of to say; he felt as if the walls were already falling. "We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Yuki. I'll always think of you and Jin." Hard, sudden hug. "If I have anything you like, you can keep it as a farewell gift. Just tell me before morning."

".all right." There was only one thing he could do; he stood up. "I have to have some sleep. You two keep Torii-dono company; I'd disgrace him if I dozed off. I'll be back."

And maybe they'll talk.


Jin went back to his room, where Yuki met him, red-eyed, exhausted from crying with Tadayo. They lit the last half-inch of sandalwood candle and made desperate love, breathed and drowned in each other, forcing out all the pain of thought--

and at the moment of light, Jin's eyes opened wide, and he drew the stone dry from the sea.

He knew what to do.


"It's so simple. Torii-san was a master, but he didn't know the Mujuu, so he couldn't beat Kariya. The Master could beat him, but for some reason of honor he can't challenge him.. But I can; I have the training and the freedom to move. That's why it's my task. It's so obvious I can't believe it took me so long." He kissed the back of Yuki's neck, continued combing out his hair. "You opened my eyes, Snowflake. You may have saved us all."

"Amidabha, how I wish. I'll pray for it." He wriggled contentedly, unable to believe the change in Jin; after days of brooding, he was almost elated with relief, despite the darkness of his understanding…

"I only have to wait for his plan to play out. I'm sure I see his reasoning. He killed Torii-dono for an excuse to take the Muteki-ryu; he only needs an excuse to kill the Master, and probably me, to take the Mujuu. He has the signed contract, so he can claim I agreed to the terms." Jin picked out a tangle. "I only have to kill him, and it's all over. The Mujuu is safe, and I, and Mariya-dono; and poor Torii-dono is avenged as well, so Tadayo can sleep at night. --He'll make a move soon; maybe even tonight. I can feel it."

"You're sure you can take him?"

"I'm sure. He's never seen me fight; it won't be easy, but I can do it." Calm and confident as he worked.

Could it really be so simple? Was Jin right? Could he brush aside the nightmares he'd been having, the haunting images of waterfalls and night forests and blood?… Jin sighed and leaned into him, folded arms around him, settled contentedly.

"You were a thin little boy when I first held you like this… " --appreciatively stroked the lean, sculptured muscle of chest and stomach-- "how strong and beautiful you are now." He kissed Yuki's shoulder. "Don't worry yourself, beloved. By tomorrow morning this will all be over, and we'll be together a long, long time."

He wanted to believe it; he pushed the fears aside. He laid his head back on Jin's shoulder.

"We will. I know it."


"You weren't able to convince him?"

"No, Kariya-dono."

"Then we have no choice. His death is long overdue; it comes tonight."

"You will--"

"You will." The assassin's voice, inflexible. "I've shed blood here already. And it would be awkward to explain my killing him--we'd have to admit how long he eluded us--but you could have any number of reasons. Jealousy, rivalry, even a lovers' quarrel… You will, Mariya-san. Tonight."


I've only just realized I never did the notes for this chapter:

Yuki's geisha song is a real one, taken from the collection "Songs of the Geishas" by Hidetaki Iwamura. However, the opening line is from a different source--I've lost my note, but think it's from the poet Dogen.

Jin's grandfather's sword--now his--is modeled on one of the real-life treasures of the Takeda family and of Japan, the incomparable Hoshizukiyo--"Starlight"--Masamune. I know of course that Jin couldn't really have had this sword, since his was destroyed, while the Starlight Masamune is still in the family's possession and on display in the Shingen Archive. But when I saw this beautiful thing my reaction was just like Yuki's --"this is the sword you deserve". So, indulge me a little...)

Yuki's spotted colt, Meryuu--"dragon's eye"--is what we would call a leopard Appaloosa here in the West. The earliest known examples of this color pattern appear in Chinese paintings, so I couldn't resist bringing it into the mix.

Chapter Seven will conclude the Mujuushinken Arc of "Sleepwalker" (yeah, you guessed that). I'll be taking a long break before starting the Tokaido Road Arc; writing this has been pretty exhausting. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and hope to see you when the next arc begins.

(Yes, I know it's been years now. I haven't forgotten; trust me.)

Chapter Seven up soon.