Resurrections and Rainbows

by Traum

A continuation after the Kyoto Arc that negates the happenings afterwards of both the manga and anime.

2. Heaven Indeed

Resurrections and Rainbows

Chapter 2

A flock of birds perched down on the walls of Kaoru's dojo, the same birds that had always perched there, the birds that had forever forewarned the beings inside of the imminently rising sun. This time though, when they sang, their chirp was somehow different from before, slightly off key when related to their other cries, something altered in both what they sang, and the way they sang it. Still, such trivial things went unnoticed by Kenshin, Sanosuke and Myojin Yahiko that morning, as something much more noticeable had also been changed with the mounting of the sun that day.

Sano pulled out his trademark toothpick, placing it gingerly in his mouth and wrestling with it before it found a comfortable spot within his teeth. "What do you suppose would make a smell like that, Kenshin?" He asked the red-haired warrior.

Kenshin was silent, his voice lost somewhere between his throat and his lungs. He merely shook his head, walked over to one of the courtyard's trees, slid next to the trunk and then rested his head back, his eyes narrowed in thought. Better just leave him alone; he seems to be thinking a lot.

Yahiko slowly emerged out of the dojo, his clothes in disarray and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He yawned deeply, his eyes only half open and his steps short and shoddy. His arms slowly uncurled from his shoulders, as he stretched out as many muscles as he could. In his somewhat disoriented state though, he completely missed Sanosuke's presence on the dojo's porch, and promptly knocked into the older man. Sano was shoved forward and fell flat on his face.

"Watch where the hell you're going, you dumb ass!" Sano screamed at his younger sibling as he turned upwards from the ground.

Yahiko, suddenly alerted to Sano's presence, widened his eyes and shouted back, "Why don't you watch where you're standing, you moron!"

"It wouldn't help, you're so short I'd miss you no matter where I stood!" Sano smiled gleefully.

"WHAT?" Yahiko roared, his voice suddenly exceeding any limits put on it by his small body, "Are you implying that because I'm shorter than you, I should kiss your feet?"

Sano rose up to his full height, brought up a fist to his chin, menacingly gazed into the blood-red eyes of Yahiko, smiled, and said, "yes, that's exactly what I'm implying." The two seemed poised for a titanic battle to the end, when a sudden cry came from within the dojo.

"Kenshin, Kenshin!" Kaoru's familiar voice, lined with confusion, ricocheted off the walls, and into the ears of the three males in the courtyard.

She came to a halt in front of Yahiko and Sano, the angst that had previously hidden itself in her voice suddenly being replaced by annoyance. "What are you two up to so early in the morning?"

"He rammed into me from behind, the little freak!" Sanosuke barked.

"It's only because I'm tired, that's all!" Yahiko fired back.

"Then maybe you should get more sleep at night, instead of dreaming about those girls from down the street all night!"

"It's not those girls that keep me up at night, it's Kaoru. She's unbelievably loud beside me."

"Shut UP!" Kaoru screeched over the bickering brother's incessant whines, hoping to reach some sort of intermittent plane of sanity between the two. "Would you just be quiet and tell me where Kenshin is?"

Both Sano and Yahiko immediately stopped, fearful of the carnage they knew Kaoru could brew, and of the meals of hers they would be forced to eat should they continue. "He started it." Yahiko got in as a final comment.

Just as Sano brought up his fist to pound Yahiko into the ground, Kaoru intervened again, "I don't care. Now where's Kenshin?" Sanosuke slowly lowered his fist, and looked slowly over in Kaoru's direction before nodding off towards the Rurouni Samurai.

A flush of wind arose from the sky around Kaoru, tossing her hair into its grip with a passion all its own. Her eyes were gradually turned towards Kenshin, who, she noticed with a mix of uncertainty and fear, sat gazing up into nothing but the blue expanse of the heavens that stretched on to all corners of the planet. Usually within Kenshin was some sort of awareness of what was going on around him, even when he was entrenched in thought; years of life as an assassin would create such an awareness in anyone. Yet this time, there was no such consciousness in the old Samurai's eyes, no hint towards the impression of all-knowingness that the one's he loved had so easily acquainted with him. Instead there were only questions, thoughts and worries about what he had felt stir inside himself this morning, and what it meant to those very people who he loved so dearly.

Kaoru walked quickly from the dojo to Kenshin's location, her stride suddenly a little more desperate, a little more frightened. "Ken-san," she half-shouted at the red-haired warrior, hoping to catch his attention before she reached his position. He made no reply though, merely remained staring into the vast breadth of blue sky and white clouds that stretched on deep into the heavenly body.

As Kaoru came nearer, she slowed down to a pace that bordered on hesitant, her voice also falling much softer, suddenly becoming nothing but a whisper, "Ken-san."

A twinkle of recollection shone forth from the corner of Kenshin's eye, radiating outwards, sparkling back to Kaoru, giving her the faintest hint that he had heard her. Kaoru knelt next to Kenshin, and looked into his face for some sort of response. "Kenshin," she said, so softly even she could not hear the words. A dawning came over the old warrior's face, as the slightest tone of response slipped into his eyes. He turned towards Kaoru, and flashed the same confident, childish and cocksure smile that he always had, the one that set her heart at ease even at the most perilous of times.

"Kenshin," she spoke again.

"Kaoru-dono." Kenshin replied softly.

"We… when I woke up this morning, there was a message from the temple Aoshi-san is staying at in Kyoto on my doorstep." Kenshin's smile faded slowly, though his face remained lustrous under the morning sunlight. A tiny flutter of wind caught his hair and threw it into his eyes, shielding them from Kaoru's gaping stare. "The note said he'd been in a trance for several days, tossing and turning in a very light sleep."

"Did they say he was sick?" Kenshin asked.

"No," Kaoru began, the wind suddenly cold on her cheek and searing through her clothes. "They only said he…"

There suddenly came a loud and powerful knock from the front door of the dojo, rocking its way into the grip of the wind, which carried its message through to Kenshin and Kaoru. Both of their heads instantly whipped towards the door, Kaoru's heart suddenly beating far beyond its normal pace. Kaoru rose up from the ground, and quickly walked towards the door, while Kenshin remained on the ground, watching with silent patience. Both Sanosuke and Yahiko quickly moved forward as well, their curiosity spurred by both the mention of Aoshi's dream, and of the unknown visitor.

The door was leisurely slid open by Karou, revealing a hunched over body clothed in pure white and stung with the stench of sweat. It was obviously a man, by the shape and build of the body, but it wasn't until he spoke that it was revealed what man. "Kenshin…san."

"Aoshi!" Kaoru, Sano and Yahiko all shouted out at once, as the two younger men sprinted forward and Kaoru stooped down beside the fallen man.

"Aoshi, what are you doing here!?" Kaoru shouted as she placed her hands on one of his very damp shoulders. As she did so, she realized Aoshi's body was shivering as if he were frozen solid, rocking back and forth too quickly for her eyes to comprehend. "Aoshi…" she whispered, her tone voicing her concern.

Just as Sanosuke and Yahiko reached the fallen man, Kenshin slowly pushed himself up from the ground, and slowly trotted off to the other's position. "Aoshi let us help you up." Kaoru said, more to the others than Aoshi. With the help of Sano and Yahiko, the task was soon done, and Aoshi was pulled up from the ground. His legs obviously lacked the strength to support him, and it also became glaringly apparent that the partial coma that Kaoru had spoken of had taken its toll on him. His eyes, what little of them could be seen through their partially closed state, were bloodshot and glazed over, as if he had taken some sort of deadly poison, and was now reaping the affects. His hair was over-grown and dirty, a stench like that of a house of rats permeating all around him, it being obvious that he had not washed in well over a week.

Kaoru and Sano tried to coax him to take a few steps forward, but his legs simply refused to obey, remaining rooted in the ground where he, barely, stood. In fact it wasn't until Kenshin came up to him that he seemed to regain enough strength to speak again, albeit very hoarsely. "Kenshin, I… I need to talk to you."

Kenshin was silent, but his eyes housed anxiety, and it was obvious he wanted to hear what Aoshi had to say.

The black-haired fighter swallowed deeply, clearing his throat to a point where he could again speak audibly, then raised his voice above the whisper it had previously resided at, "For the past five days, I've rested on the plane of death, the horrors of my own mind fighting with what little consciousness remained in me. For those five days, I knew nothing of anything that happened around me, my senses suddenly useless and weak. Then, last night, I had a dream…" Aoshi was halted in mid-sentence, as he was forced to lower his head and cough for several seconds. When his throat had cleared enough for him to begin again, his voice was raspy with pain, "I had a dream Kenshin, a dream about…"

Memory would serve Kenshin that Aoshi would never finish that sentence, that just as Kaoru was closing the door behind them, and Aoshi was going to complete his thought, a crash went off in palatial silence of the young morning, a clash of metal upon metal that sent birds flying away in all directions, and sent a shiver down Aoshi's already vibrating spine.

Kaoru was suddenly knocked over by a sudden surge of wind; the doors she had been shutting suddenly shoved open by an invisible yet very prevalent source. Heaven, it seemed had decided to turn its best weapon upon the tale Aoshi wished to tell, halting it before it could be told.

And there, in front of the dojo's open doors, were two men, one of whom had a sword drawn, the other having a sort of claw attached to both hands, their eyes more intent on one another than any pair of lovers could possibly be, and a trickle of blood running down the cheek of one man, the shorter of the two. And all around them was the wind, tossing itself about with reckless abandon, curling itself into inhuman circles and ringing dust into the eyes of both men.

Heaven indeed.

* * *

The early beams of light from a morning not finished dawning streamed out over the road, passing themselves over the travellers that traversed the path and bringing out the creatures of the morning.

The boy had not stirred since the man had taken him in his arms. It seemed perfectly at peace in it's blanket, its skin still badly burned from the inferno of the night's flames, yet its face so impeccably innocent as to say that it had not felt a hint of pain all night.

The man could hear the far off sounds of conflict behind him, his purpose for going to Kyoto suddenly seeming all the more important. Through some strange twist of fate though, he realized he had perhaps found a better suitor to the role he wished to fill, completely by accident.

The two continued on down the vine-infested path, the mountains that already loomed in front of them growing with each passing step, each ongoing moment. Onward they travelled for the entire morning, till the sun had finished its ascension, and was hanging directly over them, glaring down over the entangled over brush that only slightly marred their path. By this time, the older man's legs were sore and tired, a product of the strange stride with which he walked. He slowed his pace, then stopped and stooped under a large tree that shaded the pair from the sun.

He gently set the small boy down on the grass, then pulled off his bag from his shoulders, and pulled forth a small bottle of sake from it. He sat down next to the boy; his legs crossed underneath him, and gazed up into the bright morning sky. A few minutes passed, as the silence of the forest came out, and the boy awoke. His heart raced at first, but he soon realized that the torment of the night before was over, and that he was safe now.

The child sat up slowly, his body aching and his mind burning into his skull. He wanted to ask the Samurai before him what had happened, but the man cut him off first, "Just listen to it, the way it hums through the heavens, the way it courses through your veins." An opaque silence draped over the two, as the boy was left in awe of the man's delicately spoken words. He wanted to say something, anything, but he could not.

"What's your name, boy?" The old man asked, still staring off into the sun.

"I… I have no given name, not by your standards at least."

The old man breathed gently, and then responded, "A man with no name is a man born to be a warrior." The boy's head slowly dropped, his vision spinning under the pain in his head. "My name is Zeus, since I came from the heavens upon my master. I too, had no name when I was found, but I have inherited many names since then, names that have no meaning to a regular man." The boy didn't understand what the white-haired man had just said, but he knew somehow that he spoke only the truth.

"You, you will be known as Cronos… since I came to you at just the right time. Sound good?" The boy was speechless, but the title seemed fitting to him. "Where are you from, Cronos? Your accent is not from any part of Japan I've ever heard before."

"I…" Cronos began, "I'm… from, America, or at least that's what my owner told me. He says I have the dialect of a poor American beggar."

"Yes, that sounds about right, though I've never heard an American speak Japanese before. Why are you here then, amongst us?"

"That man you killed, he said he found me in the rubble of an American ship when I was about five years old. He said he caught me trapped within a woman's arms, her body floating on the shore."

Zeus' interest was caught by the boy's words, and he slowly turned his head to face Cronos. "How did you know I'd killed him? You were unconscious by the time I'd finished him."

The boy's head dropped again, and then he replied sullenly, "That man hated me with his entire heart, and until that heart stopped beating, he would continue to hate me. Therefore, he must be dead, or else I would still feel his hate."

Cronos turned his head up and looked into Zeus' eyes, the purity and truth behind the small blue orbs becoming unmistakable. Neither spoke for a while, as they both scanned into each other's souls for the information they sought. Finally Zeus turned away, and stared back into the heavens, then opened his mouth again, "Do you like the outside, Cronos?" The boy nodded, and Zeus continued on, "Good, because you'll be seeing a lot of them with me. You'll learn to love the wind, too, Cronos, because it will flow through your body like the air in your lungs. You will love the trees, the leaves, the mountains, and everything that the wind touches, you will love it all, and it will be your servant in return."

The redheaded young man nodded as Zeus spoke, suddenly finding meaning within the man's words. It wasn't long before Zeus spoke again, "Have you ever used a sword, Cronos?"

"…No."

"You will, boy, you will."

Zeus pulled himself up, and stared off towards the mountains in front of them. "Come, Cronos, we must reach the mountains before the sun falls, so I can have my meat for the day, and we can treat your burns." Cronos stood up as well, and pulled up Zeus' bag along with him. Zeus then walked out from under the shade of the tree, began down the path headed for the mountains, and Cronos followed him.

A small set of birds set down where the pair had been, frantically searching for some dropped food, finding none. They chirped to signify a "No" to their brethren, and then flew off towards Tokyo, to find a house to spend the day upon.

* * *

From the moment he'd set foot in Tokyo, Cronos had had trouble getting around. For the most part, he was already at least six inches taller than the men, and usually a foot taller than the women, which made it very hard to go about unnoticed. There was also the topic of police, which were either afraid of him, or uncaring that he carried two swords, which was long since banned under the new Meiji government. In any case, he stuck out like a whale amongst a school of catfish, and there seemed little he could do about it.

It didn't particularly bother him that he was so noticeable, except for the fear of an attack from the Honoo no Satsujin's, which could prove fatal to a number of bystanders. As it turned out though, they were honourable enough to attack him out of the main street, merely assaulting him in front of the Kamiya Dojo. The attacker turned out to be the dumbest of Apollo's trainees, yet even so, he was more than a deadly match for the red-haired young man.

After Cronos had followed Aoshi towards the Hitokiri Battousai's position, he had felt the presence of a follower tracking his position, but had done little about it, merely remaining on his toes in case of an impromptu attack. Just seconds after Aoshi had entered the dojo though, Cerberus decided to strike. As his name implied, his fury came from the gates of hell, and so did his stupidity.

Quickly breaking the first command of any assault, he quickly made his position known to Cronos by roaring gently, just under the breeze of the wind, which carried the hint of his attacker straight to the red-haired man. Cronos whipped towards Cerberus and quickly withdrew one of his swords, just in time for Cerberus to lunge at Cronos with the pair of steel claws that had been surgically attached to the man's hands. Cronos easily sidestepped the vicious swipe, and brought his sword up from the ground with a quick slice that Cerberus didn't fully manage to dodge. The sharp edge of the blade caught him on the cheek, and instantly sent blood dripping down the bald-headed assassin's face.

Cronos landed, and instantly the wind began to push itself from behind him, towards Cerberus, the murderous look in the short man's eyes growing stronger as more resistance was pushed against him. The door to the dojo was still open slightly, but it seemed as though Aoshi had still captivated the attention of those inside, the battle between warriors on the outside had not yet been noticed.

Just as Cronos was looking for a way to get the attention of the Battousai, or Aoshi, Cerberus shot away from the point where the wind had been collecting against him. As quickly as Cronos realized Cerberus had escaped the wind's hold, he brought his sword back, and then whisked it through the air in the direction of his enemy. A sudden and deadly entrapment of air rushed towards Cerberus' head, at speeds too quick for any normal human to dodge; but Cerberus was no regular human, as he quickly ducked under the razor-like pocket of wind, and, with a powerful thrust of his legs, fired towards Cronos' knees, his claws outstretched and his mouth salivating from the expected kill.

Before the extended hands of Cerberus' could reach Cronos though, one of the redheaded man's feet was brought up, catching Cerberus squarely in the jaw, and sending him soaring through the air, before landing with a thud on the ground some distance away. The attack did little to hurt the beast, but did halt him long enough for Cronos to concentrate. The wind suddenly changed direction, and instead of pushing itself in one course, it began to swirl all about, the dirt and grass beneath the two combatants suddenly pulling itself up and around, the door of the dojo being blasted open by the force of the wind.

The barrier between the fighting opponents and the peaceful inhabitants of the dojo suddenly brought down, utter chaos ensued. Sanosuke rushed out from behind Aoshi, Kaoru tried desperately to get up from the ground after being knocked down by the door, and Cronos began to scream out, "Battousai! Quickly, help me defeat this beast!" Kenshin merely stood still, his eyes and feet fixated on the two fighters, neither of whom let the other out of his sight.

Fear quickly arose in Cronos' heart, as he knew that he would be unable to protect all of Kenshin's friends without the Battousai's help. A few tense moments passed, as the wind continued to force itself on, and then finally Cronos yelled out again, "Rurouni Kenshin, draw your sword!" For a split moment, Cronos turned his eyes towards Kenshin, to see if the warrior had drawn his blade, and in that split second, Cerberus stroke.

The short, brightly clothed, and bald man pounced away from the ground, towards Sanosuke and Yahiko, his progress moving too quickly for the two younger men to track. Cronos shot after the man with the cut across his cheek, but moved too slowly, the deed had been done. Luckily for both Sano and Yahiko though, Cerberus saw something within the eyes of the Battousai, and decided not to merely kill the cross-scarred warrior, but to play with him. Instead of simply slicing and dicing the two young men with his razor-sharp claws, he pulled short of the legendary Hitokiri, expelled a long breath of some foul-smelling gas, and then brought both hands up to his mouth.

"Get down!" Cronos screamed, his voice overpowering the shrieks of both Kaoru and Aoshi, who lay on the ground, pleading for Kenshin's attention. But all the cries in the world couldn't have prepared Kenshin for the flames that suddenly sprung forth in the air, enveloping themselves around Kenshin, and causing him to turn away from Cerberus, his eyes burning from the heat. The flames quickly caught a hold of Kenshin's clothing, igniting them with sparkling bushes of heat and light. Kenshin was swiftly on the ground, trying to put out the flames that now covered his body, while Sanosuke rushed towards Cerberus, screaming a battle cry and extending his broken fist.

Before any of the Kenshin Gumi could act though, Cronos had already sprung, and with him had pounced the vengeance of the wind, which quickly extinguished the flames that hadn't caught onto Kenshin, and blown Cerberus away from the redheaded warrior. Cerberus landed several feet away from Kenshin and Cronos, yet still his presence loomed over the others as the sun hangs over the skies during the summer. As Kenshin began to roll on the ground, with Sanosuke helping, Cronos quickly faced his enemy, sword at his waist, directed towards the bald fighter.

The flames on Kenshin's clothes were quickly put out, and for one, agonizingly long, tension ridden moment, not a single soul showed signs of movement, except for the steady and laboured breathing of Aoshi, who still lay on the ground, a puddle of sweat and fear. Finally Cronos spoke, and his voice was calm as ever, "Leave now, Cerberus, or else you will die."

Kaoru finally got to her feet, only to back up against the wall, her entire body trembling from the invisible strands of pressure between Cronos and Cerberus, her gaze shifting between the two squared off fighters. Another moment of silence crept on, and as it did, Kaoru's stare slowly began to lock upon Cronos, her heart thudding ever harder as she found herself gawking at him. His long, springy red hair covered one of his eyes, but the other was visible to only her and Cerberus, and both of them saw the same thing. His eye was shining, glowing a bright white like a star that had neared the Earth. There was no trace of a pupil, no character or feeling within that eye, just the pure light that emanated from within the man. It was as soon as she saw this that she knew Cronos was wrong, and what he was doing here was wrong as well. She wanted to cry out in fear and confusion, but she could not, because the light would not let her. Her legs began to quiver again, but before she could fall, Cerberus snapped the tension, and screamed aloud.

The air all around Cerberus suddenly burst into flames, almost as though it had not been air at all, but a flammable substance just waiting for that first spark. Everyone's hearts were instantly tightened, as they had no idea of what had just happened, everyone's except for Cronos that is. In fact, if anything, his body suddenly relaxed heavily, and he even put his sword away. Confusion quickly ran amok through Kaoru's mind as she tried to determine not only how Cerberus had lit the air ablaze, but why this strange man with the even stranger eyes seemed so relaxed at seemingly the point of climax between the two. As the wind pushed the newly created flames out though, the second answer to Kaoru's burning questions was quickly answered, as it appeared, somehow, Cerberus had managed to escape the ball of fire he had enveloped himself within, and had disappeared from the confines of the dojo.

The wind instantly fell down to nothingness, and the only sound that could be heard was that of Cronos' blade being placed into its sheath. Kaoru quickly caught a glimpse of Cronos' eye again, and to her horror, she saw that it was different, that once again it was a regular eye, with all the attributes that such an eye holds. Some sort of a trigger went off inside her, and she was forced to recall a time when Kenshin's eyes had changed like that, transformed into that of something not human, only to turn back.

He's the same as Kenshin, she realized, the voice inside her not willing to admit that the terrible, blinding white eyes that had come from this other man in any way resembled the things that Kenshin stood for. "Ken…shin," she gasped softly, her throat suddenly stinging her and her vision suddenly becoming cloudy with the same white light that had come from Cronos. "Kenshin…" she whispered again, as she tried to step towards the old Rurouni she had come to so dearly trust, only to find the world around her suddenly fade out, and her legs to give way underneath her.

Kaoru collapsed onto the grass of her dojo, as Cerberus leapt from rooftop to rooftop, heading back to his rendezvous point, and confident in one very important piece of information.

* * *

Okeda awoke from his place on the floor in a pile of disgust, another night of his laboured drinking paying off handsomely. The saliva that had formed in a pool by the corner of his mouth stuck to his chin as he rose up, only to be brushed off by the back of his hand. He couldn't tell if the bitter taste in his mouth was blood, or something else, but he had an almost instant urge to rid himself of it.

His entire body was racked with soreness, his head throbbing and his bad hand cramping terribly. He searched around for a couple seconds, hoping to find Seru, or at least one of his daughters, before realizing he wasn't at home, and he wasn't going to find anyone to help him. He pulled at one of the westerner-style chairs, and yanked himself up, then groggily went to get some water to help wake himself up.

As he pulled open the door, the rays of the sun smouldered into his eyes, forcing him to close them, and consequently, stub his toe on a stray water bucket. After cursing the piece of wood for several seconds, and rubbing his foot, he picked up the pail and headed to the well. Neither the beauty of his mistress' house, nor the sheer enormity of it, ever ceased to amaze Okeda, but then again, he was an easily amazed person.

He crossed nearly fifty metres of courtyard before he reached the water well, which was so large that it actually had two separate places to draw water from. He quickly filled up his bucket, and then quickly finished the cool water, spilling much of it on himself. He wiped his chin then headed back into his house, where he changed into a fresh pair of servant's clothes Yolanda had left him, then picked up the money she'd left for him, and headed towards the streets of Kyoto for his regular work.

As he was heading out of the house, he saw a pile of empty sake bottles, left over from the night before, and decided to leave the mess for a couple of Yolanda's servants. As he was heading out, he thought he saw one, the tall, fair-skinned boy he used to see, but it turned out to be one of her children, who regarded Okeda as a tutor for Yolanda in the art of handwriting. "I guess what I do with her is a form of art…" he said aloud with a slight chuckle, almost not remembering that her son didn't know what he really did do.

Only slightly embarrassed, he walked past the strange look the son gave him, and finished his path out of the house. A few stragglers were in the street, but he was nowhere near the market, or any place of business, and so he was left to his own thoughts, hollow as they may be, as he trotted towards his office.

It didn't take long for him to remember just how strange Yolanda had been acting the night before, and it took him only a bit longer to remember why. The fact that her husband hadn't been seen in two days had seemed to weigh heavily on her heart, and she seemed to be even more distant the previous night, almost as though she didn't expect him back. "Sure, he was a samurai, and sure it's only been a year since the Meiji era began, but there's no one who wanted to kill him, at least, not from what I remember her telling me about him." A couple vagrants on the street gave Okeda a strange look, but he just continued to speak to himself. "I'll have to try and console her tonight, if he still hasn't come home, or else it won't seem I'm doing my job."

He carried his feet heavily, before finally coming to a stop in front of the small, out of the way restaurant he worked at. As he walked in, he greeted the head waitress, whom he worked with, and then headed to the back to throw an apron on, before heading back to the front in the rare event a customer walked in. He stood at the front counter, and stared off into the sky, despite the pain his hangover caused him.

Time slowly passed, as it always seemed to do for him while he worked, and he began to daydream about what he could buy with the extra money he was earning from sleeping with Yolanda. Before he could find a comfortable mind-groove though, a loud crash sprung up from outside, and he rushed out to find out the source.

There, in the middle of the street, were three teenage kids, all with wooden swords, beating on an old, darkly clothed man, who made almost no movement to protect himself. A couple of the other men who owned stores around the area quickly moved in and pulled the kids off of the old man, but they just screamed for the owner's to let them go, claiming that "the man is the work of the devil!" And that he "has to be killed!"

The owners didn't really care what they screamed though, and quickly cracked the wooden swords over their knees, and walls, before telling them to scram. At this point, Okeda moved in, and helped the man dressed in black rise to his feet. The man's body was cool, almost like the water that Okeda had drunk in the morning, despite the heat of the sun, and his dark attire. Okeda could see little of his face, but what he could see was covered in black hair, his beard covering almost his entire face. His hair was far too long and bushy for his face, but it seemed as though the man had no choice in his washing habits. The man's skin was dark, much darker than most, and the rough way in which he moved showed he had obviously spent a lot of time under the heat of the sun. "Are you okay?" Okeda asked, his voice soft, but his grip harsh as he tried to pull the man to his feet.

After several tugs, the man came to his feet, but still seemed dizzy and unsure of his surroundings. The other storeowners were also around, in a circle, and they all heard the gibberish the man sprouted out of his bloodied and broken lips.

"So much fire, so many flames. There's no way I can put them all out!" The man began to thrash about in Okeda's arms, forcing him to drop the older man to the ground again, where he writhed, as if in pain. "SO MANY FLAMES!" He screamed out, his voice ruff and dry.

"Ha," a couple of the store managers chuckled, "probably just some old crazy samurai who fell off his rocker." They all gradually drifted away as the man began to repeat himself, thrashing about, all but Okeda.

Okeda stuck around for a couple more minutes, making sure the man couldn't be helped any more. Just when it seemed it was useless and Okeda was about to leave, the man's words suddenly changed. "Why are you on flames?"

Okeda whipped towards the man, and asked, "Are you talking to me?"

The man nodded, his breathing finally catching up to him, before he went on, "You're on flames, your hair is a pile of burnt rubble. You… you're the cause of the flames."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Why did you cause them? Why did you cause the flames?"

"I didn't cause any fires, what the fuck are you talking about?!?" Okeda shrieked, his heart racing as he tried to understand what the man meant.

"I can never put you out, never in all my wildest dreams!" The man shrieked back, his hand rising up to Okeda, almost menacingly, though also peacefully, weakly.

"Fuck you!" Okeda shouted, kicking the man in the stomach, in fear, and then taking a step back.

Though the man gasped in pain, he continued. "You're the one who starts the wind too, though. You're the one who will fight the fires with the powers of the heavens."

Okeda just slowly backed away, and headed back into his restaurant.

"You'll be torn apart by them, and you know it! You can't survive the flames if you don't trust in heaven!"

Okeda closed the door behind him as he entered the restaurant, then slumped, exhausted for some reason, on the nearby wall. He gasped several times, and then groaned, "Hmph…. Heaven indeed."