Húli was silent after her initial arrival.

She sat, she watched, she ate when food was offered to her, but she did not speak again. That was fine by Wolf; she was not causing trouble, so as far as he cared, she was welcome to stay with them.

Kuro seemed to worry for her, judging by the frequent looks he sent her way, and Wolf would be lying if he claimed not to be curious about her, but when offered a heaping serving of soup Kuro forgot everything but his hunger. Wolf watched him down it all with amusement before turning to his own meal, and after that, it was time to train.

Kuro's form was good, and he was a quick learner, but the problem they were running into was that Kuro was simply not very strong. His movements were precise and correct - his energy levels certainly greater than before, thanks to proper eating - but Wolf could power through his parries with no effort at all. Throughout it all, Kuro grew more and more frustrated, and Wolf inevitably called a break that saw Kuro silently stewing the entire time.

They would have to do strength training, but that was not something that would see results quickly, nor could they spend much time on it when they needed to be on the road. Kuro could probably survive a tussle with a lesser man than Wolf, at this point, but he would not be able to win.

Perhaps I can help.

Hmm. Yes, the dragon that coiled in his lap was getting quite heavy; as it flickered briefly in his vision, he found it was getting quite large, as well. Kuro already carried its weight around his shoulders, but if he carried it differently, he could get to work on building muscle as they traveled.

"We will stop for the night," Wolf said, and Kuro rose his head from where he lay moodily on the floor to listen. "Tomorrow, we continue westward."

"But I still have training!" Kuro protested. His enthusiasm was good, at least.

"We are at a standstill," Wolf replied, and Kuro's face started to pull into that cute pout. No matter how he aged, Wolf was sure he would keep his charm. "Staying longer risks finding the emperor's men at our doorstep. Do not worry - we will start strength training tomorrow, as well."

Kuro admittedly looked more worried at that, and Wolf did not blame him - combat training and exercise were two entirely different beasts. But Kuro only nodded and moved to retrieve the bedrolls from their pack, and Húli, who had been silently watching them through her skull, curled up next to the fire with her tail over her snout.

"Good night, then, Wolf," Kuro said into the quiet, frustration replaced with softness, and Wolf offered him half a smile.

"Good night."

"Good night, Húli."

She did not even huff in response.

Between Kuro's increased appetite and the additional mouth to feed, they had actually finished the pot of soup, and Kuro stared at it with his hands on his hips as Wolf packed their things back up for the trip ahead. Húli was back on the pedestal - her pedestal, Wolf had realized somewhere along the way - and was watching him with interest in those unnaturally green eyes.

"It's just such a waste of money," Kuro sighed. "We can't even take it with us."

"Perhaps we can return it to the merchant we purchased it from," Wolf offered. At least then someone else might get use of it; it was of good make, and truly was a shame if it were to be left in the shrine to collect dust.

"Hey, Húli," Kuro joked, "maybe you can keep it for future visitors!"

She rolled her eyes at that, and Kuro only smiled wider. His expression turned startled a moment later, though, as Húli suddenly leapt off the pedestal to balance on the cooking spit. She leaned over one side, peering thoughtfully at the pot, before reaching down and decisively pressing her paw against the outside coating. When she pulled back, a white imprint of her paw remained, and before their very eyes the pot began to shrink.

"There," she said as Kuro moved forward to take it off the spit. "Now it's travel-sized." And indeed, it did fit snugly into Kuro's cupped palms.

"It's still heavy," he marveled, and Húli snorted.

"Well, of course it is," she snapped. "I made it more dense, is all. Press your thumb on the pawprint for a few moments and it'll go back to size, and vice versa." Kuro obeyed, and comically, yelped when it began to grow in his arms. He nearly toppled over at the awkward size of it, eventually opting to set it on the floor with a noisy thunk. "You can thank me anytime."

Judging by the double take and widening of her eyes, she did not actually expect for Kuro to brightly chirp back, "Thank you! This is really helpful!"

"Well," Húli hesitantly replied, and not for the first time Wolf wondered when she had last been shown such appreciation, "consider it thanks for feeding me."

"Húli, that's - "

"You guys should get going now before I change my mind about eating you."

Kuro frowned but did not push. He pressed his thumb against the pawprint again, and when it had shrunk once more, placed it in the bottom of their pack so it would not crush anything. Before he walked away again, however, Wolf stopped him.

"You're carrying this today," he said.

After a surprised pause, Kuro merely shrugged it over his shoulders and replied, "Okay." Wolf could only hope he would remain as indifferent when he grew tired. Their supplies gathered, they paused at the door as Kuro glanced back to the vixen on the altar. "Well . . . goodbye, then."

Húli's tail flicked and she twitched her ears, but said nothing. With a sigh, Kuro adjusted the pack on his shoulders and led the way down the stairs, and Wolf followed with one last glance at the fox, looking so lonely in the rotting structure, surrounded by the broken remnants of her past.

"I hope she finds something better," Kuro said as they started down the path, and Wolf could only hum agreement.

"She deserves it."

"I'm glad you agree." Kuro's fingers ghosting at the back of Wolf's hand was a familiar sensation, a common question, and he accepted it with little thought. "What did they do to her?"

"We can only speculate," Wolf replied, but he had a pretty good guess by what they already knew. She had been worshipped, and now she was not; whatever falling-out there had been, it had wounded her deeply, and induced rightful fear in the villagers in turn. The better question was what had pushed them to turn against her. "But for now, we must move on."

After all, they had targets on their heads, and Wolf did not trust the villagers; more cutthroat men after their bounty would arrive, of that Wolf was certain. It was unavoidable. He hoped, however, that they could pull far enough ahead to get more training in for Kuro before they ran into any more threats.

"I know," Kuro replied, and if he did not sound all that enthusiastic, Wolf could hardly blame him.

It was as hot as ever as they trekked back toward the village, but the trees on either side of the path arched overhead and granted some shade from the morning sun. With each pass through a patch of sunlight, Wolf could clearly see the dragon about Kuro's shoulders; it shimmered under the golden rays, translucent but surprisingly visible, and despite how it coiled heavily around Kuro its weight did not seem to bother him. In fact, its gradual growth had likely resulted in quite the desensitization to its presence.

It was peaceful on the path; truly, there was nothing going to or from the shrine that ever indicated any sort of danger, even with the darkness visible from further in the treeline and the noises rattling from the bushes. There was an inherent calm to the path that came with the protection of a deity that kept his mind at ease, even as Wolf thought of Húli and considered Kuro's training and recalled the suspicious behavior of the villagers.

Wolf was in the process of deciding to wait until they were outside of the village to show Kuro exercises when a shout sounded from the torii leading up to the shrine. Startled, they glanced up in unison to see some nameless man approaching them - one Wolf vaguely remembered seeing, but not meeting. He slowed to a halt before Kuro, who could only stare at him as he spoke.

Perhaps, Wolf thought, he should make more effort to learn Mandarin. As it were, he took initiative to step forward between them, protective urges rising, and politely inclined his head toward the torii; they needed to be on their way.

"He says he's surprised to see me alive," Kuro muttered, tone bitter, and it took immense strength for Wolf to hold in an irate sigh.

"We are leaving," he said curtly, and with an odd sense of pride heard Kuro repeat it in a similarly impatient tone of voice. The light breeze had more bushes rustling as they pushed past the villager.

The man protested, but Wolf could hear Kuro's footfalls follow obediently behind him - and another, louder rustle in the bushes. The man gave an alarmed noise as they all turned to look - and Wolf and Kuro shared knowing looks.

"You don't have to stalk us," Kuro called out. "Just come out."

And after a momentary pause, a little fox slunk out of the bushes.

Several things happened all at once - Kuro began to approach her, a wide smile on his face; the man moved her way, as well, his teeth bared in an angry scowl as his fingers stretched toward the skull on her head; green flames began to dance at Húli's paws and jaw, and a sharp, threatening bark tore from her throat like thunder. Wolf was the fastest on his feet, however, and he shoved his way between Húli and the villager with his hand on Kusabimaru's hilt and anger rising in his chest.

"Enough."

The villager may not have known their language, but Wolf's tone spoke volumes more than words ever could. A warning, a threat that the demon within him rumbled with pleasure to hear, and as the man backed off and began shouting and gesturing wildly Wolf took a deep breath to force the fury down before he could dwell too long on that presence.

Wolf turned halfway, still keeping an eye on the villager lest he attempt to take advantage of some perceived weakness, and knelt down to offer a hand to Húli. "Are you joining us?"

Her hackles had yet to fall, but the flames arcing through her fur had dwindled to little green sparks. Past the sockets of the skull, her otherworldly green eyes surveyed him a moment - and in the blink of an eye, the sparks fizzled out and she leapt into the crook of his prosthetic arm. She truly was so small. He held her protectively to his side, and when he turned back to Kuro and the man he found them speechless, with varying degrees of approval on their faces.

The man erupted into outraged shouting, but before Wolf could act Kuro balled his hands into fists and shouted something in Mandarin that Wolf had an inkling feeling meant shut up. The next few moments of scolding were completely incomprehensible to Wolf, but he could feel the anger rolling off Kuro's words like a tangible wave, and for a moment all Wolf really observed was how fluent Kuro had become in the language to be able to yell at someone so fluidly.

Caught up in his pride as he was and willing to let Kuro sort it out himself - he was not interested in coming between them as Kuro got in the man's face about whatever he was saying - Wolf did not catch the man's hands rising until it was too late, did not see them wrapping around Kuro's shoulders, then pushing -

But Kuro had practiced his stance, not even budging, and the area went deathly quiet. And even with Wolf stepping forward to interject, rage flooding his veins at the sheer audacity of the movement, Kuro was already shoving the man back.

And his stance was not nearly as stable as Kuro's.

"Did you really try to push me?!" Too angry to maintain Mandarin, Kuro slipped back into his mother tongue, and he pushed the unsteady man again so he toppled to the ground. "What is wrong with you?! 'Trying to protect me,' you are so full of - !"

"Kuro," Wolf interrupted before the swear slipped out, and though he still seethed his rage was cooled with satisfaction; Kuro was more than capable of taking care of his own fight. "Enough. Let's go."

Kuro looked rather like he was about to give Wolf his own tongue-lashing, but after a moment he huffed and spun on his heel to storm off down the path. Wolf made sure to glare pointedly down at the villager before following suit, leaving the man pushing himself into a sitting position and rubbing at his back.

He shouted out one last thing, and Kuro spun toward him, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled back, "I don't care!"

Well. Perhaps Wolf would have to ask what exactly the man had said. Later, though, because Kuro needed time to cool off.

The rest of their walk to the village was silent and tense, foul moods abound; Húli still had not spoken from her spot in Wolf's arms, Kuro was still visibly fuming, and the dragon had shifted to stare over Kuro's shoulder as though expecting the villager to follow them at any moment. If he was wise, Wolf thought, he would not dare to try; this time, Wolf would be the one to face him, and he was not feeling very merciful toward anyone that dared to pick a fight with a child half his size.

Not a child, Wolf reminded himself, but speaking of said not-child -

Kuro gave a sudden, frustrated growl and exclaimed, "I have to stop thinking about this! Wolf, what were some of those exercises you mentioned?"

It was something else they could all focus on. Gently, he set Húli on the ground, and put Kuro to work lunging as he walked; it was a simple warm-up, but keeping Kuro's thoughts on maintaining proper form was enough for the moment.

They were perhaps an hour out of the village when Kuro finally spoke again, and he sounded remarkably more content - albeit a bit out of breath - when he asked, "So what persuaded you to join us, Húli?"

Húli had been trotting alongside them for a while, finding it too warm to continue being held in Wolf's arms. Her pace faltered for half a moment before she said in an unconvincingly airy tone, "There was nothing left there for me."

Kuro hummed in response, not pushing, and they fell back into quiet. The sun was overbearing, with both Kuro and Wolf's clothing sticking uncomfortably to their skin, and even the dragon draped over Kuro's arms to add weight to his arm curls closed its eyes lazily against the light and heat. The walk was stuffy and uncomfortable and none of them were feeling particularly sociable.

But it was not like Kuro to let the day be too quiet, so he changed topics not even a full minute later. "So how do you know Japanese?"

Húli gave a derisive snort. "All human languages are the same to me. How do you think your little dragon knows it, too?"

The dragon seemed to puff up with indignance, and the vixen rolled her eyes and tossed her head in response. "He's a god," Kuro pointed out. "You aren't."

"I was a deity," Húli replied, averting her gaze, "once upon a time."

Yet again there was nothing more to say. Húli seemed skilled at shutting down conversation, for nobody dared to push further on the topic of her past. After all, everyone had their secrets; Húli would likely never know the depth of Wolf or Kuro's pasts, and they could not expect her to spill everything about her own. That did not, however, stop the twinge of pity that tugged at Wolf's heart or the frown twisting Kuro's lips.

Whatever her story, Wolf hoped she could steer its course in a better direction with the two of them.

The day's walk was uneventful otherwise. When the sun reached its highest peak, Kuro gave up on the exercises, his enthusiasm drained by the heat, and Wolf found himself impressed he had even lasted so long. The map they had picked up in the village before things grew strange told them they were about a day and a half's walk to the next hamlet to the west, but the villagers had claimed it abandoned; the next proper civilization was another two days' journey away. So as the sun began to fall and Húli grew so tired as to petulantly demand to be carried, they made camp next to the road, with a long view down both directions.

Húli proved surprisingly useful, locating sticks amongst the mostly flat plains to make a campfire, and this time Kuro had no energy to complain when she lit the fire using her magic. Instead he just rifled through their pack, setting things aside in his hunt for food, and Wolf picked their bedrolls from the pile to set them up for sleep. Huli investigated everything Kuro set aside, and the dragon stretched across the first bedroll Wolf spread out, for once detaching from Kuro.

"You've been visible for a while," Kuro remarked, and the dragon lifted its snout to acknowledge him. "I thought it was something you had to work to do?"

It was, the dragon agreed, and Húli raised her head to squint when its mental not-voice rang out into the night air. Shaking her head, she returned to her nosing about; when she had finished rooting through what Kuro had removed from the pack, she shifted into that childlike form they had seen before to dig through the pack herself.

"It's not anymore?"

No, the dragon replied simply.

"Very informative," Wolf remarked dryly, not intimidated in the slightest by the stern look the dragon shot his way. But Kuro was not as impatient or irate with the dragon's tired disinterest in conversation.

"Is it because we're getting closer to your home?"

In part. Kuro cocked his head, and the dragon explained, You are both growing, as well. As you spend time with me, you grow more attuned to my presence, and our bond is strengthened. I do not have to put forth effort to show myself to you.

"Huh," Kuro remarked, ever so eloquent. "Can others see you, too?"

They could, the dragon said, if I wished for them to - or if they were particularly spiritually attuned.

"Like Aurelio?" Kuro asked, and though his voice was softer out of respect, Wolf found it did not hurt so much to hear the inventor's name mentioned. Still, he found himself flexing the fingers of his prosthetic before he could stop himself.

Like the inventor, yes. That man -

It was interrupted by a sharp noise between a yip and hiss, and they all turned to see Húli had scrambled away from the pack, his posture stiff. With so many eyes on him, he shook his head adamantly before demanding, "Where the hell did that come from?!"

It was the little satchel Joro had given them, and Húli was pointing at it as though it had personally wronged him. "A gift from a friend," Kuro answered slowly, scooping it into his hands and delicately brushing the dirt from it. "What's wrong?"

"It reeks of danger!" Húli exclaimed, and turned disbelieving eyes on the dragon. "Are your humans always this nonchalant about this stuff?"

"Well," Kuro mused, opening the satchel to inspect that its contents were undamaged, "our friend is a twelve foot tall spider demon. I should think she's pretty dangerous. This little thing isn't gonna hurt you, though."

He held out the pouch in offering, and Húli hesitantly accepted it, peeking inside.

"Sewing supplies?"

"Sewing supplies," Kuro confirmed.

"And a whistle," Húli said, pulling the little wooden carving from the pouch. He inspected it for a moment, turning it over in his hands, and suddenly raised it to his lips; Kuro yelped and quickly snatched it from the fox's hands before he could blow on it. "Hey - !"

"The inscription!" Kuro protested, and pointed at the engraved characters that Wolf could not read. "It's for emergencies!"

"Well, I didn't know!"

"You could have read it! Unless you want the dangerous spider lady to come here?"

It was a curious dispute, Wolf thought; Kuro had always been so respectful with everyone they had met thus far, but curiously, since they had met Húli, Wolf was seeing an oddly argumentative side of him, both in Húli's defense and against it. The Divine Heir looked rather like a scolding older sibling to the childlike fox, whose ears flattened against his hair as he argued back, and the realization was so sudden Wolf found himself barely withholding his amusement.

"Do you plan on bickering all night, or will you eat?"

Wolf's intervention had them both pouting but reluctantly turning back to the fire, and food was handed out to eat. The dragon shot Wolf a tired, grateful look, and at a simple gesture joined the shinobi, wreathing comfortably around his shoulders. Not for the first time, Wolf was surprised at the weight Kuro carried daily without thought, and idly reached up to run his fingers over its scaly hide.

"Keep him for a while," Kuro sighed, leaning back and dropping his head into Wolf's lap, eyes closed and tone content. "He's heavy."

"With how much food you just inhaled," Húli snarked, "I can't imagine you're one to talk."

"Hey, my growing boy diet is very recent," Kuro sniffed, and though Wolf rolled his eyes and the dragon huffed irately, he ruffled Kuro's hair fondly nonetheless. "And I have to account for working out, now, too."

"I don't see why you're trying so hard." Húli cocked his head, drawing his legs to his chest, and Wolf noted how skinny his limbs were in this form. "You already had a shinobi and a literal god watching over you, and now I'm here, and I know I'd be better in a fight than you." Kuro and Wolf both frowned at that, but Húli pressed on. "You don't have to worry about anything."

"I wish that was true," Kuro replied dryly. "The dragon can't do much until we restore him to power, and Wolf . . . "

He opened his eyes and met Wolf's gaze; the shinobi did not have to guess which of his numerous failures Kuro could possibly be thinking about. "I am not infallible," he continued in Kuro's stead. "It is for the best that he learns to protect himself."

As much as Wolf wished he could keep Kuro safe forever, the subconscious hand that Kuro raised to his chest and thumbed over the stitches in his yukata was a reminder of how he could not keep such a responsibility any longer. Kuro had never been in this sort of danger before - while many had hunted him in Ashina, no one had sought to harm him. No one had dared. Here, where men did not worship his blood, the seekers of it were greedy and cruel.

If he grew too lost in his own thoughts, Wolf could still . . .

Kuro took his hand, and Wolf shook his head gently in what he hoped was reassurance. The boy had been so strong throughout it all, bouncing back not days after, so Wolf could handle the memory, too. He need not dwell on it when Kuro was here, alive and breathing and staring up at him with so much concern it hurt.

"What are you two?" Húli's question startled them into turning their attention his way, and he shrunk a little at the sudden eyes on him. "Just wondering. You . . . don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay," Kuro managed, sounding surprised. His gaze shifted back upward, past Wolf to the stars overhead. "It's a good question - you're not the first person to ask. I guess I just . . . don't really know."

He still held Wolf's right arm between his own, and Wolf was hit with the realization of how they must have looked - perhaps not a compromising position, but their closeness - dare Wolf call it domesticity - was undoubtedly strange to observe, with Kuro being much older than a standard clingy child and the fact that they were unrelated. It might have even been awkward for Húli, being the third wheel to their bond.

"I care a lot about Wolf," Kuro finally said. "I think of him . . . I don't know, I guess you could say he's an older brother, if that makes it easier for you. I've never had any siblings, though, so I can't really say if that's what he is to me. Wolf is . . . my whole world."

And oh, how that had Wolf's cheeks aflame - a warm, gentle fire, so unlike the one that danced in his eyes when his anger overwhelmed him. Kuro had always been an earnest person, but being the target of such genuine feeling was not something Wolf felt particularly equipped to handle.

What was he even supposed to say to that? Was he meant to recite it back? Was he expected to come up with his own painfully genuine prose to explain how much he cared for Kuro in turn - how Kuro had brought light to his life that he never thought he would find in his work as a shinobi, how his loyalty for Kuro had long since transcended his sense of duty, how he would protect Kuro with his life and had a hundred times already because Kuro was worth dying a thousand deaths for -

Clearing his throat, Wolf managed an only slightly hesitant, "I feel the same." And then, in an almost shamefully small voice, "Kuro . . . has always been special. To me, personally. Not because of his heritage, or because I was sworn to him."

It was awkward and stunted and it said something about him, Wolf was sure, that he struggled so greatly to speak of his own feelings in any capacity. But Kuro's cheeks tinted pink and he laughed and elbowed Wolf in the side, and the shinobi could not help but allow himself an amused huff as well.

"That's the most emotionally vulnerable I think you've ever been," he teased, and Wolf rolled his eyes and none-too-gently flicked Kuro's forehead in retaliation.

"Do not get used to it."

Húli hummed, equal parts in thought and to remind them he was there, and averted his gaze to stare into the fire. They both glanced his way, and after a moment he murmured, "I've never had a family."

. . . oh. Húli had asked, of course, but now their confessions felt insensitive. But before either could straighten up or apologize, Húli shook his head and shifted back. Once again a fox, she stretched, walked a circle around Kuro's bedroll, and curled up tightly at one end, and after sharing a questioning glance Kuro and Wolf opted not to push.

They followed suit soon after; they would need rest for the long days of travel ahead. But Kuro reached out to hold Wolf's hand once more as they drifted off to sleep, and Wolf did more than simply allow it - he reciprocated the gesture.

An expanse of darkness.

Something is not right.

Wolf stood in a halo of dim light; all around him, nothingness. When he moved, the light moved with him - as did the dark.

Shinobi, wake up.

Voices whispered - something, a dozen somethings, a hundred, moved in the dark about him, and yet his heightened vision was failing him.

Now, fool!

They surged, all at once -

Wolf awoke with a start, and he knew in a heartbeat that something was wrong.

In another heartbeat, he was jerking upright and lunging for where he had last seen Kuro asleep, fear rising as a lump in his throat - only to find he was not there, but a few paces away, alert and visibly on edge. The dragon and Húli both had hackles raised and teeth bared. The air around them was still and silent and stuffy, and Wolf realized the sun's rays had not yet even begun to paint the sky. Kusabimaru lay a few feet away next to their pack; Kuro was already reaching for his katana, hands shaking but eyes narrowed and determined as he tried to scan the darkness around them.

The hairs rose on the back of Wolf's neck, and he dodged out of the way just in time for an arrow to land where he had been kneeling half a second before; he only had enough time to throw himself forward and grab Kusabimaru's hilt before they were surrounded.

Kuro's back thudded against his own, pressed close, and Húli pressed against his ankle with a low growl in her throat. The band that stepped out of the shadows consisted of only five men, but the scars littering their skin and the armor they wore hinted at a competence Wolf did not look forward to facing. He could feel Kuro tremble against him as Wolf unsheathed Kusabimaru, and who he could only assume was the leader - judging by the fact he wore a helmet where the others did not - began to speak.

Wolf was not capable of understanding, of course, nor was he interested in trying; instead, he surveyed the tight circle of armed bandits, glancing them over for personal weaknesses and looking for the easiest escape route. He was not keen on fighting heavily armored and experienced men if he could help it, and as he eyed the only one with a bow he shifted his stance, ready to lunge.

Left!

He could only guess the warning came from the dragon; Wolf turned just in time to catch the thrust of a spear underfoot, stomping the pole to the ground. His assailant tried to jerk the weapon back, but Wolf was quicker - he brought his other foot down, and the bandit was forced to drop the spear lest the handle break under Wolf's weight, and before the archer could nock an arrow Wolf had fired a bullet through his forehead with a large bang!

There had been no time to test out the firearm prosthetic Aurelio had crafted him until now, and there was no time to marvel over its efficiency - that was all the time he had with the element of surprise.

Kuro shouted behind him, and the screech of metal against metal rang in Wolf's ears; the sound of a good block, but there was no time to be proud, nor was there time to help. The bandit with the spear was lunging with a dao, now, and Wolf barely managed to deflect it before it cut into his ribs. But there was a sudden surge of heat behind him, a tormented scream he did not recognize, and a feral gekkering Wolf could only assume was Húli, and he felt confident enough in their teamwork to focus on his own assailant.

There was remarkable strength behind the man's swings, and Wolf's shoulders jolted with every collision of metal. Of course, he would not only face one of them, either; another bandit lunged at him to the left, and all Wolf could do was reach out with his prosthetic and wrap his fingers around the blade. The impact rattled up his arm to the remaining bone, and though he had effectively halted the second strike, his remaining arm was not enough to hold Kusabimaru steady, and the first bandit's sword skidded down the blade's length and hacked into his shoulder.

Gritting his teeth against a sharp cry as his shoulder erupted with agony, Wolf ripped the dao he held from his second assailant's hands and plunged it into the first's ribs. The man's grip weakened almost instantly, a choking gurgle escaping him, and blood flew from his lips as he coughed and stumbled back; the dao being pulled free from Wolf's shoulder with a wet squelch hurt more than it did going in, but it freed Wolf to turn and face the second bandit -

- only for a knife to plunge into his diaphragm.

Though the weak groan that spilled from Wolf's lips was undoubtedly pathetic, he hardly had the time to dwell on it - just kill this man, get to the last one before he hurts the boy - but as he moved to swing Kusabimaru at the bandit that had stabbed him, the world spun, and his katana digging into the ground was the only thing that kept him upright when his knees gave out under him.

Poison.

There was an unpleasant crunching noise and an eruption of pain as the mercenary placed a well-aim kick to his face, sending him sprawling backward into the dirt as his vision blurred. Gritting his teeth, Wolf turned on his stomach and willed his limbs to allow him back up, but a knee on his back sent him firmly back into the dirt, the knife digging deeper into his torso.

The bandit said something Wolf could not hope to decipher, disdain dripping from his tone, and then a sword was plunged into his right bicep.

Wolf could not help it - his throat burned with the effort of the guttural scream, torn brutally from his throat in equal parts pain and fury and terror and pathetic, internal begging of not this, please, not again - !

"Wolf!"

"Kuro!"

How much of the blurred vision was from the poison, and how much from tears? How many tears were from old fears, new fears, the pain from his arm, from his chest, from coughing up blood? All he could see were blurred shapes from where he lay - what he could only presume was Kuro swinging his katana at the leader, only for it to be knocked effortlessly away; a fist in Kuro's hair, a cry of pain, a furious growl; an orange blur, a sickening crack, and a horrible whimper as Húli was violently kicked away.

They're going to kill him.

They wouldn't. Not when there was money to be made -

You killed their men.

Surely they had expected such -

Get up, shinobi!

He couldn't, not with the poison coursing through his system, not with the dao pinning him in the dirt, not with iron on his lips and the familiar blackness of death crawling over his vision -

They're going to -

A guttural shriek left Wolf's ears ringing and blood turning to ice in his veins.

He wished he could say the world stopped in that moment, that everything turned still, but the screaming continued. Kuro gasped and sobbed and shrieked again and again, only stopping to suck in another lungful of air before another wretched cry tore through the still silence. There was a thud, and the blue mass that Wolf recognized as Kuro's yukata writhed before curling up, weeping muffled as his arms covered his face. The foot on Wolf's back let up.

The dragon's power was welcome to manifest any moment -

Your dragon cannot help you, but I can.

The ice in his veins warmed, heated, scalded. The blade in Wolf's arm began to sizzle.

Save him, Wolf tried to say, but all that came out was a muffled, pathetic moan. The bandit that had impaled him twice began to approach Kuro's stilled form.

I will, the voice said, a sick note of glee in the promise.

Wolf's prosthetic fingers latched around the bandit's ankle without his command; with a burning fury and a flash of orange, the man was set alight, his screams cut short in seconds as his charred corpse collapsed to the equally burnt grass.

The dao in his arm continued to sizzle until he felt it melt away completely. The molten steel burned and stung his skin, but the sensation was so far away he hardly felt it - the only thing that mattered was that he could stand before he even thought to tell his limbs to move.

He felt weightless, hardly present, detached from his body as he took one step forward, then another. He wrenched Kusabimaru from the dirt with no effort as he approached the last bandit, and when he tried to speak, he had nothing to offer but a wild snarl that did not sound like himself. Unnatural heat so unlike the sun enveloped his body, and upon glancing down he found flames licking at his skin, dancing, but not consuming.

The bandit leader did not waver, but the apprehension scrawled all over his face brought satisfaction, the fire in Wolf's veins only burning hotter. Though sluggish, he took his stance, daring the man to strike first.

He did, inevitably - frightened men rush to their deaths. A parry, a thrust, and Kusabimaru was embedded in the leader's chest to the hilt . . . and his dao sunk into Wolf's stomach, just below the knife.

The leader wavered and collapsed, and Wolf did not do much better, falling to his knees once more and struggling for breath. That was it, then. The threats were dead, Wolf was going to die soon, and Kuro . . . was moving, still crying, saying something, but Wolf could hear nothing but the crackling of fire in his ears and his vision remained frustratingly fuzzy.

His fingers closed around the hilt of the knife; gritting his teeth, he wrenched it free and tossed it aside. The sword was a much more difficult beast, but when he wrapped his hand around the blade, it glowed and melted under his palm like the dao had before. It was difficult to pry the remainder from his back, but he managed it before his strength finally gave in and he fell face-first into the dirt.

If he was to come back - if the dragon's blessing was to save him still - he could not have them in the way of his healing. If it did not, well . . . he could not be saved either way.

"Wolf - Wolf! Dragon, do something!"

Húli, I need your help.

"Tell me what to do."

The heat was receding, replaced by an uncharacteristic cold that should not have been present when the night had already been so warm. Vaguely, he registered being moved onto his back; the only warmth that remained were Kuro's hands cradling his face, and something on his stomach. It might have burned if he were present enough to feel it.

"Wolf, please - I need you to stay - "

He wanted to, he did, but no amount of begging would halt the darkening of his vision.

"I love you, so please - !"

Nothingness.

"You have to come back!"

The sharp, shrill scent of sakura. The taste of copper. Agony, his nerves screaming in his abdomen and arm and nose, the pain so overwhelming he nearly lost consciousness once more - but with resurrection came the strength to cope, even if shock made it impossible to cry out at his injuries.

Something warm dripped onto his face, and at first Wolf was certain it was tears until his eyes finally focused on Kuro's face. On the mass of red, the sticky rivulets down his cheek to his chin, the mangled socket -

"No," he managed, horrified, bile burning in his throat, and despite the protest of torn muscles he reached out to cup Kuro's face. Kuro took his hand in his own, easing some of the strain, pressing it against his unmarred side.

"Wolf," Kuro whispered, raw and cracking, and fresh tears spilled over his fingers. "Wolf."

Wolf's hand slid to the back of Kuro's neck, and he tugged, pulling him forward to lay against the shinobi's chest. Kuro wept into his shitagi, sobs deep and chilling and contagious, and if Wolf's tears mingled with the bloodied ones that had already dripped onto his face, he did not care.