Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai 7, nor its character. I do own the people not in the show however.

(Reposted for minor corrections)

Dusk was settling over the quiet, tiny village when Kyuzo let the men take a break. They were all probably too scared to ask the fearsome samurai if they could stop, but Kyuzo could tell from the sweat on their brows and minor shakes in their arms from fatigue that they needed it.

"We'll start night training after sun down." He instructed them before they parted, a collective groan emanating from the group at the thought of more work. Kyuzo narrowed his eyes at them as they departed. Weakness, he thought.

When he was training, he would have killed to be given a break. In fact, he had, but that was sort of the point of that 'exercise'. His training had been hard and brutal compared to that of other samurai. But when your training at the precipice of a war, you needed to be ready to kill not just be ready for the idea of it.

He wasn't complaining though. That training was what got his through the war and made him the man he was today.

And despite the opinions of a trending public, he liked who he was.

Kyuzo, now alone, looked at the training yard littered with bows and arrows. No regard or respect for their weapon. He thought with distain. But he would let it go. They were just simple farmers. In a few weeks' time he and everyone else would be gone and they could return to their simple lives of rice and mediocrity.

The listless samurai began collecting fallen arrows and bound the cluster he had gathered when his hand could hold no more. Mai had asked for arrows. Now was a good a time as any.

The walk back to the hut he, Mai, Heihachi, and Gorobei shared was short enough. Rikichi's house, despite his generous offer to let them stay with him, was ill founded. His home was indeed too small for himself, seven samurai, and a kunoichi. They'd have to resort to sleeping on top of each other for them to all fit*.

Therefore it was decided that they would have to be split down the middle. Kambei and the others had stayed with Rikichi and they had been moved to an abandoned home near the end of the village. Kyuzo had heard that the man that lived their committed suicide when his wife and daughters had been taken by the Nobuseri, unable to live with the shame and loss.

The samurai didn't bother knocking when he got to the hut. After all, he had just as much right to it as anyone else, and he assumed he would be alone. He had learned that Heihachi would be focusing most of his efforts on designing and building some contraption Shichiroji was planning so he assumed he would be out. As for Mai he had assumed she would be dealing with the women and getting ready to prep the bridge for demolition. His plan was to just leave the arrows on her sleep mat for her to see them.

So when he opened the door and saw Mai, sitting on her ankles on the floor in deep concentration of her task of poisoning her weapons, her jacket off for the first time since she had gotten it, silhouetted by the golden light of the sun set from the open window, it took Kyuzo by surprise.

He was well…a little…aw struck. The flawless elegance of her as Mai dipped a senbon needle into the thick concoction inside a pale cup then pressed the coated tip into a block of wood with the others with fluid practice.

Kyuzo watched calmly from the door way as if in a trace by the graceful, smooth movements and creature in front of him he had never seen before.

Mai glanced up at him and smiled faintly as she did another needle patiently.

"When you do it like this all the poison all goes to one end and gives you a good spot to hold them from." She told him casually, noticing his interest in what she assumed was her craft. "When I was in training, one of the novices in my class used to do the full needle. That is until he ended up accidently poisoning himself."

Kyuzo said nothing. But the anecdote made him think for a brief moment that perhaps their childhood memories were nothing like the memories of normal children. His memories were filled with swords and blood and death. And those of similar stock could always find each other.

"But I'm sure you didn't come here to learn or trade poisoning weapons technique." Mai added, still not stopping in her task or noticing that Kyuzo had disappeared into himself momentarily.

The blonde samurai head snapped up as he was jolted out of his thoughts, and the impeding spiral that was to come into darker ones, then produced the bundle of arrows for her.

"Aw, for me? You shouldn't have. Asagao* are my favorite, but I suppose a bouquet of arrows is just as nice." Mai mocked the samurai, glancing at him through her laces with a smirk. Kyuzo didn't find it funny. "Are you always so painfully serious great samurai?" Mai asked him, returning to her normally blank mezzo-soprano, while she removed the tie from the bundle of arrows.

"I understand humor. I just don't think you're funny." He told her. He thought Shichiroji could be funny. And the big red oaf Kikuchiyo could be funny, but more because he was a big red oaf then actual wit or humor.

"I suppose. I wouldn't think I was funny either if I was at a loss in a battle of wits. How are the farmers doing?" Mai asked, glancing up briefly from cleaning the arrow heads one by one. Kyuzo's eyes narrowed a fraction at the sting to his pride.

"Meager improvement. How's women's work?" Kyuzo asked. The smirk was plain on his face when Mai's eyes darted up in a glare at him, catching the double meaning there.

"Fine," She strained. "I'm going to have them start milling what they've collected tonight in shifts. With any luck we can be mostly completed in a day and start preliminary placements at night." She told him, finishing the last of the arrows, and beginning the tedious process of lacing them. "Is there anything else you wanted?"

Kyuzo paused long enough to alert Mai's attention and she looked up at him curiously as to why he was still standing there looking at her.

"No," The samurai said finally and turned in a whirl of blood red coat as he exited the small hut to return to his villagers.

It was nightfall by the time Mai finally finished lacing all her weapons and arrows Kyuzo had brought her. She gave her fingers and back a satisfying crack when she stood from the floor. Being hunched over that long was murder on her long limbs and spine.

She debated on going to check the progress of the rice milling, having relayed the delegation of the task to a woman who had stopped by. It was her hope that while the milling was being completed she could split to group into those making flour and those making bombs. She would also have to see what the women had collected so far in their scavenging, in the village and in the woods.

But first, Mai wanted to meet with Kambei and see if he had anymore assignments for her.

The kunoichi slipped the modified jacket back on. It was indeed useful as she had assumed against the nights chill, though she was thankful for her gloves since it didn't have sleeves.

Mai stepped out of the small hut she shared with the other samurai. The moon and the stars provided enough light to see by, so there were no torches to illuminate the dirt streets. Mai honestly liked it better. When she had gone into different cities for job and tasks given to her by the Omashu, she always hated the bright lights of neon and artificial lighting.

As she began her journey to meet with Kambei, Mai noticed the soft glow of torch lights outside the village. She knew the further ones were probably Heihachi and Shichiroji. She assumed that the ones closer were Kyuzo and the archers in training.

The thought of the archers made Mai's mind wander to the red samurai and her encounter with him earlier.

Something was…off about him in that particular encounter but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Though she had only known the other blonde for a short while at this point, she still thought of him as a comrade of sorts. Though she knew comrade wasn't the right word. They shared a kindred spirit she and he. They were very alike and she found it hard not to be drawn to someone like that. She felt that he probably felt the same, what with how he always seemed to be next to her in a crowd or said nothing when she was next to his. She wasn't a fool. She knew at first it had to be out of obligation and distrust, but she could tell he was over that phase. The lack of rigidity in his shoulders and flinch to grab his sword when she past gave him away.

So it was something, she just didn't know what it was between them just yet.

Mai snorted a little at the thought of friendship between them. Yes, they would make the best of friends, if they could just get over the burning desire to fight each other to the death, she thought.

Mai's musing had taken her all the way to Kambei's and she was about to walk in when she stopped at the threshold by an invisible wall.

Something was wrong. She could feel in in the air. The dark aura that seemed to cloud around the noble samurai was of setting to say the least.

"Kambei," The veteran samurai paused in his work on Katsushiro's sword to spare a look over his shoulder at the ninja at the door before continuing.

"Katsushiro slew his first man tonight. A Nobuseri scout retrieving information from a villager." Kambei informed her. Mai narrowed her eyes at the mention of a traitor. Her blood ran of cold fire as she conflicted with feelings of rage and cold resolution coursed through her veins. "Heihachi is bringing him back now and Kikuchiyo is handling the body. With any luck, they won't realize one of their men has been slain."

"They may not miss him, but they will notice the loss in number. And why bring the man back here? Are we to make an example of him?" Mai asked her tone cold. Kambei glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment before returning to his work. Mai's voice had always had a serious tone to it. Like every word she said had purpose, even when she was attempting to be friendly and civil. But this was the first time her voice had ever been what he would consider cold. The solid look in her eyes and the chill of her speech rivaled winter's greatest storms and Kambei could now see Killer-Mai from beneath all that masking.

"No. The man is just a scared, foolish farmer. He does not yet realize the depth of his actions." Kambei told her. He could feel her glare strengthen on his back.

"He's a selfish idiot who was only thinking of himself. He was going to sell out his whole village and us on the thought that he would be spared." Mai spat angrily.

"It's a survival mentality in all to find the best way to survive. And it is not our place to judge him." Kambei told her and her she huffed angrily. Killers among him, strangers with unspeakable pasts, and now traitors, Mai was now certain that the man had a death wish. "I ask that you gather the others and help deal with this for me. Katsushiro will no doubt be looking for guidance in this troubling time."

Mai nodded, a great deal of force in the action to accept such an order, but she would obey. Her head then snapped over her shoulder at the loud noises coming from the forest. "I don't think alerting the others will be necessary." She said and made her way to the village to deal with the horrible man.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed the last time and the lovely Guest reviewer. I try to thank all my reviewer individually but since I couldn't with you guys I will do it heeeerree~~~!

I really do appreciate all the reviews and comments you guys are leaving. It's really helpful to me and I want to know what you guys think/want out of the story.

Thank you again! Peace bitches! (Not that you guys are bitches though...)

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