I woke up later on in the day. This harbor business was sucking the life out of me. As I tried to sit up, I felt excruciating pain in my neck and collapsed again, groaning.

"Ryo-san! You're finally awake!" Fukuhara turned around from where he had been sitting, namely, my desk. "Lie down! You need to take it easy."

"What happened?" I croaked.

"I'm not real sure…your throat's been slit. The guy who brought you home wouldn't tell me much. Man…what a jerk he was."

"Huh?" I tried to roll over, but quickly came to the conclusion that it would be a bad idea. So I stayed on my back to ease the dull ache around my throat. "Who brought me home?"

Fuku stood his head. "His face was stone-cold. And he was really rude. He wouldn't tell me his name. He just said that you'd been hurt and might need stitches."

I placed my knuckles against the laceration, testing for pain. The gash was pretty deep; I probably would need some stitches. Damn. I couldn't even protect Mai. Some warrior I was turning out to be.

"…do you know who he is?"

"Yeah. Bring me some water, will you?"

He left the room and I tried to collect my thoughts. That description wouldn't fit anyone other than Gui Zhang Chen. So he was the one who had saved me! But I remembered something else; the caress of his hands on my face. It was a vague, hazy memory, but I recalled it quite well. Not once or twice, but several times, he had stroked me while I lay helpless. Why? I had always been under the distinct impression that he despised me.

Did he?

"Here." Fuku lifted me into a slightly more upright position, and handed me a cup. I drank gratefully, and he seemed relieved. "Ryo-san, who was that man?"

I cleared my throat, not without some pain. "His name is Gui Zhang Chen."

Fuku looked rather surprised. "He's Chinese? Ryo, did he did do this to you? What if he's connected with Lan Di?"

"Fuku-san!" I said, reproachfully. "It wasn't him. Stop it."

"But Ryo-san!"

His voice grated obnoxiously on my ears. I curled into a ball to get away as best I could. "Fuku, listen. Give me a little credit. I know what I'm doing, okay?"

Fuku slid away, face mournful. "Well…okay." The bed shifted as he stood. "I'll get Ine-san. She might know who has the right type of materials for stitching."

I sat up so fast that I nearly collapsed. "Damn it, Fukuhara! Don't tell Ine! You can't tell her anything about this!"

"Should I tell Nozomi?"

"NO!" I sank back onto the bed, weak with pain. His sense of timing was practically non-existent. "Look…if you insist on leaving the house, just go to Honda Drugstore and buy the stuff we need. You can do that without blabbing, right?"

"All right…" He left the room and I closed my eyes, overextended. For a brief moment, I wished that Gui Zhang hadn't left, shortly before I succumbed to the bliss of sleep.

I was jarred awake as the bed shifted again. The light from the hallway seemed so dim and watery as my eyes slowly opened. Fukuhara was sitting at the foot of my bed, rummaging through a small burlap sack. I tried to move, but found no strength to do so. "What time is it?"

"It's just four o'clock. I got some of the newer stitching tape, and a couple of needles. And some antiseptic. Lie down, and I'll get to work."

"Fuku-san, you know how to do stitches?"

"Sure! Hazuki-sensei taught me how when I split my chin once. See?" He showed me an old, faded scar. I could hardly see it. "I did them myself."

I squinted. "Wow. Maybe you should have been a doctor."

"Stop, Ryo." He adjusted the pillow behind me, forcing me to sit up a little bit. "Now, tell me if this begins to really hurt."

I lay alone in the dark, wide awake and full of questions. Occasionally, I felt my neck, searching for the only tangible evidence I had of this wild day. The pain was sharp; the stitches were rough. Beyond that, I had precious little else to go on. Hisaka had called in the evening, sounding very concerned, and Mai had also called, apologizing tearfully. But the one person that I really wanted to hear from hadn't bothered to phone, and I wasn't bold enough to call him with Fukuhara hovering so close by. Knowing him, he'd just make a fine mess of things. Unintentionally, of course.

As it wasn't likely that I would get any answers, I decided to spend a little time playing Space Harrier. I got up and went into the living room quietly. But apparently I hadn't been quiet enough. As soon as the system booted up, Ine came right out of her room.

"Ryo-san!" Her voice was somewhat gentle, but there was definitely an edge to it. "I thought that I told you to keep out of trouble!"

"Ine-san, don't worry about me."

"How can I not? You're going out at all times of day and night, getting into fights…I even heard that you were trying to get a tattoo! And now you're always going out to Amihana and you've stopped talking to all of your friends…what's gotten into you?" She shook her head angrily, but her voice sounded so sad. "You're playing with fire, Ryo. I know that you want to avenge Hazuki-sensei, but you're starting to really worry me. You've become so self-destructive lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act so innocently with me, Ryo Hazuki! I'm not blind. I can see that bandage around your neck. You've been hurt in a fight again. Fuku-san told me all about it."

I threw down the controller, flabbergasted. How could he be so incredibly stupid! "Ine-san!"

"Ryo-san, you promised me a while ago that you would let this go, and you haven't. I'm begging you, for my sake, to drop whatever grudge you have. Please, take care of the dojo, and live your life quietly, the way that your father lived his."

I sighed. I was going to have to lie to her. And worse yet, she wanted me to. We both knew that I wasn't about to do anything such thing, but she needed to hear it. So I put on my contrite face, and stood up to my full height. I took both of her hands in my own and looked her in the eyes. "I will, Ine-san."

She nodded, trying to convince herself. "Good night, Ryo-san." She went back through the paper screen that separated the common room from her bedroom, and I went back to my game.

My concentration was gone, though. After failing to reach the third stage several times in a row, I tossed the controller aside and went back to my room. I undressed and tried to sleep, but I could hardly manage to stay put on my back.

Why would Gui Zhang have touched me like that? He was a handsome man, and I didn't doubt that if he chose, he could be very charming. Rich, mature, physically appealing…it would not have surprised me at all to find that he had several lovers. Was he toying with me?

Gingerly, I turned myself on my side and adjusted the pillow in order to compensate for my neck's reduced range of motion. I was hardly offended by the seduction of a man; rather, I wished that I had been more cognizant of his embrace. I wanted the opportunity to present itself again, but it didn't seem likely. Disappointed, but resigned, I finally dropped off to sleep.

After an exhausting and fruitless day of hunting information in Yokosuka Harbor and Dobuita, I decided to head home and work off some tension in the dojo. I ran up the main road in Sakuragaoka, waving to the kids as I passed by. I loved to run. It made me feel as though I was flying. But as I passed by the ever-present construction site, the hair on the back of my neck began to prickle.

The entire way home, it had sounded like an extra set of footsteps had been trailing me, but I had chalked that up to the crowds in Dobuita. But here I was in the suburb of Sakuragaoka, which was significantly more quiet, and yet the footsteps remained. Odd.

I slowed my pace to a walk as I turned towards the Yamanose road, and finally I stopped walking altogether. A long shadow extended its reach onto the large pile of earth to my right. It was clearly the shadow of a fully grown man. I turned sharply to see Gui Zhang Chen behind me, with that same expressionless expression he always wore.

My heart leapt, and not entirely through fear of his motives. "What do you want?"

He was silent.

I stared at him, taken aback by his wordlessness. The air was suddenly oppressive. "What are you doing here? Why did you follow me home?"

He was silent.

Fear began to constrict around my heart in an icy grip. What if Fuku-san's hunch had been right after all? My voice was not as strong as I would have liked it to be. "Are you with Lan Di, too?"

He was silent.

"Damn it!" I got into my accustomed stance, determined to defend myself.

He grunted as he prepared to attack me. The last time that I had seen this particular stance, his father had interrupted us, much to my relief. This time, though, it didn't look as though I would be so fortunate.

He walked towards me deliberately, striking terror into my heart. I couldn't believe it; I had just been fantasizing about this man not twenty-four hours ago, and he was going to attack me, possibly kill me? Nonetheless, I swung at him. He didn't take the bait, pushing my blow aside.

I kicked a short, sharp kick to his midsection. It didn't do much damage, but it shoved him back. I followed up with a set of spinning roundhouses that had never failed to knock the wind out of any previous opponent. Imagine my surprise, then, when he caught my last and strongest kick, and threw me to the ground!

I got up, sorely bruised, but regained my focus and struck his hip with a well-placed blow. He staggered a little, and I used one of my most difficult, but most dangerous moves: a long and high kick that struck both the face and feet. This time I had the immense satisfaction of seeing him fall to the ground.

We tussled for some time longer before our struggle ended, but on the whole I definitely got the worst of it. Every attempt to throw him, every combination…he managed to dilute and negate them all. I couldn't understand it. The worst part was knowing every time that he struck me, every time that he threw me, was quite possibly my last. I had the distinct impression that he was only playing, and that he could easily end my life, should the mood overtake him.

At last, though, he seemed to grow weary, and stepped back. I remained on my guard, though I was quite relieved to be allowed some respite.

"I have to stop, otherwise, I'll fail as your bodyguard."

He stared at me coldly; I could feel his gaze go through me, and I trembled. My voice reflected my dismay. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head in disbelief at my thickheaded question. "You still don't get it, do you? You have no idea how important you are."

My mouth went dry. Could it be? Was I important…to him?

"If you were to be killed, it would cause…problems…for us."

Damn it! I gulped and once again asked him to explain himself.

With a long-suffering sigh, he explained, in his own sardonic, taciturn way. I could hardly believe what he told me, although naturally I had no call to accuse him of lying. Another mirror! Had my father died for nothing?

"Get the other mirror for us, Hazuki. When you get it, call my father." He turned away from me and walked towards the darkened, gloomy hill that led back to Dobuita.

I went home myself, sparring with Fuku-san for a while in the dojo, praying at the hand-carved altar, even speaking at some length with Ine-san. Nine p.m. came quickly, and I went to bed, careful to lie on my back. My neck was still a little sore.

I lay awake for a little while, thinking about this new event that had transpired. Another mirror? Perhaps it was somewhere in the house? My father had all kinds of secrets hidden all over our house; it had been a monastery at one time, and secret compartments were everywhere. I thought about the different possibilities, but inevitably my thoughts went back to the fight itself.

As ridiculous as it was, I had noticed something else about Gui Zhang while he was beating the tar out of me. He had very smooth hands. I wrinkled my forehead. How could someone with such a high caliber of fighting skill keep his hands so well maintained? And why had his throws felt so soft…almost caressing? I shivered to remember it, but envied the happy person who was fortunate enough to feel those hands in a stroking sense.

I struggled to regain some sense of composure. The days ahead would bring plenty of problems of their own without me worrying about something as senseless as a crush. But somehow…I wanted to occupy his thoughts as fully as he dwelt in mine. Was it possible? The puzzle remained unsolved as I fell deeply asleep.