Chapter Three: Flames

You may have noticed that Risho and Saito(h) have the same last name. That isn't a coincidence: they are brothers (Risho is of my own creation). That doesn't have anything to do with this story though, but I might make another fiction about them if anyone's interested. I'm going to try to have this fiction finished by August 20th because that's when school starts for me. That's not saying that I WILL, only that I'll TRY. Thank you again for all the reviews!

After Misao left the room a silence fell over the three adults, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Shadows danced around the tiny room to the tune of the flames, flaring up and receeding like the tides of the ocean. Sakura, feeling more than a tad impatient to be filled in, decided to initiate the conversation that was in all of their minds: why was Risho here, and who was he really?

She cleared her throat to grab their attention. "Risho-san, it's obvious that you aren't here for a friendly visit. Misao can't hear us now, so I would be most obliged to you if you would please explain yourself."

"Very perceptive, Sakura-san. You're right- I'm not just here for a friendly visit, although Seto-chan and I are certainly friends. I came here on behalf of the Imperialist army. I……."

He was cut short by a gasp from Sakura, quickly followed by a very nervous look toward her husband. This was the day she'd been dreading. They'd finally come for him after all of these peaceful years. They'd come to take him away from her again- away to the the blood stained streets of Kyoto –away to risk his life – away from her.

"Sakura, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not going back. I ran away from the battle once, so that I could be with you, but also because I couldn't stand the killing. I killed so many men back then, and all for what? Fo…"

"Not for nothing, Seto-chan. You know as well as anyone that you're the best of the best, a match even for the Battosai. The simple fact of the matter is that we're losing, and we will continue to lose unless you help us. We need you, or else…."

Sakura stood up to her full height, even then only a little taller than the sitting giant, and screamed, "I won't let you take him! I won't! I won't!" Realizing that Misao might be able to hear her, she dropped her voice to a pleading whisper, "You don't understand, Risho-san, I need him here. Misao needs him. Misao most of all. She needs her daddy, and I need my husband."

Seto rose and walked over to her, then wrapped his arms around her to soothe her in his warm embrace. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head and whispered, "Don't worry, my love, I won't leave you. I couldn't leave you, not even if I tried. My place is here, with you, not on the battlefield. I know how hard it was for you and Misao when I was away, and I don't want to put you through that kind of pain again. I couldn't stand to do that to my daughter, either. She deserves better, as do you. Please don't cry, Sakura. I love you."

Risho let out a sigh. "I know you don't want to fight anymore, Seto-chan. No one really wants to fight, but it's something we have to do. If we give up now, we'll go back to being opressed by the old government. Is that what you want? If you don't help us to fight now, think of how your family will suffer later. Think of how the world was like when you were growing up. Don't you want better for your daughter? Don't you want her to know what peace feels like? Don't you want to know what peace feels like?"

"She does know what peace feels like. Up here, in the mountains, the government can't touch us. We're happy now, Risho. Go outside and smell the air: it doesn' t smell of blood, nor does it reak of sorrow and hatred. It's happy. It's free. That's what my daughter knows, which, by the way, is better than what I knew as a child."

"That's great for you now, but how long do you suppose that will last? You can't stay hidden forever. Besides, yours isn't the only family in Japan. There are others that are suffering and dying. There are mothers now without children or husbands, children without parents, husbands without wives. The only way to end their suffering is to end this war. We have to win it, and you have to help us. So, what do you say?"

"My answer still stands. I have enough blood on my hands."

"You aren't the Seto I knew. Seto-chan would never have been so selfish. Now you're just an old burnt out samurai who's too concerned with himself to help others. Repulsive. I'm leaving now, Seto. The sight of what you've become is making me sick."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Risho. Goodbye, old friend, and good luck." Risho just snorted in return as he got up to leave. He walked across the wooden floor, his footsteps making each board creak from his weight. The door was only six feet tall, so he had to stoop to get through it. He shut the door behind him a bit harder than he would have otherwise, and in doing so shook the walls of the cottage slightly. Deciding that it was too late to travel very far, he strode over to the maple tree nearest to the "traitor's" home and leaned up against it to sleep.

His sleep was uneasy, and not just because of the uncomfortable position. He felt almost as though he was being watched. He was right.

After Misao was done with the dishes, she walked back to her home. As she entered into the main room, she saw her parents standing together, staring at the door. Her mother looked relieved and happy, but her father did not.

"Daddy, what's wrong? Where's Risho-sama?" She asked, surprised.

"Risho-san had to leave, sweetie. He said that……. he had other important business to attend to." Replied her mother. She felt guilty every time that she lied to Misao. 'It can't be helped,' she admonished herself silently, 'She is still way too young to know the truth about our past. Just as long as she still believes that her father is just a simple farmer, she can retain her purity of heart and mind.'

"It's getting late. Time for bed! I'll take care of the fire tonight." Said her father, in an attempt to quell any further questions Misao might have had.

"O-okay daddy. Goodnight! I love you!"

"Goodnight, precious. I love you too."

"Goodnight both of you. You know I love you very much." With the last of the goodnights stated, Sakura led Misao into her room for bed. Once she was tucked in, she went into the room she shared with her husband. There, they changed into their night clothing, exchanged a kiss, and fell asleep.

Aoshi stood for a moment to stretch his muscles once he was sure that the giant leaning against the tree was sound asleep. He had been waiting in these bushes for hours, along with a few other members of the Oniwaban Group, in order to carry out their orders. Okina had said that Risho would lead them to the home of a very dangerous man: one who would be able to turn the tides of battle against them, a man who was almost the equal of the Battosai. Once found, he would have to be exterminated. Okina's information was never wrong, and so here they were, ready to attack.

Although only thirteen, Aoshi was already a high ranking member of the Oniwaban; not to mention that, at 5'6'', he towered above everyone else his age. He had short, black hair that hung onto his forhead and a lean, yet srong, body. His eyes were his most striking feature, however. They were a warrior's eyes: hardened yet saddened by countless battles and countless murders. Icy blue in color, they were capable of inducing terror with just one death-glare.

The light coming from the fireplace was suddenly extinguished inside, leaving the entire house to be engulfed in darkness. The only light in the clearing now radiated from the moon and stars. It was time.

"Light the torches, then move out!" ordered Aoshi. The rest of the group nodded, then got to work.

Misao turned in her sleep, troubled by the events of the day. Why would Risho-sama leave at this time of night? No one traveled at night unless they were running away from something. What had made her daddy so sad, while her mother seemed so happy? And why, come to think of it, had everyone seemed so strange when she intruded upon someone's conversation? Did they think she was being rude? She made a mental note to apologize in the morning. She didn't want her mommy and daddy to be mad at her.

Once she had tossed and turned a few more times, sleep claimed her.

"Misao! Misao! Where are you?!" Someone yelled. Misao awoke from her slumber to a startling situation: smoke was everywhere and flames were beginning to eat at the walls. She tried to scream, but couldn't. Smoke sucked into her throat as she inhaled, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Her lungs heaved, trying to pull in air, but with every breath more smoke pulled in instead, coating itself to her air passageway. In an effort to filter out the air, she pulled her shirt up over her mouth and tumbled out of her plush bed onto the hard wooden floor.

"Mo……mo…..my…..da……dy." She exhaled, growing desperate. She looked up at the frame of her door, and with another jolt of horror realized that it was about to collapse. Without thinking, she ran with all of her strength, only narrowly missing being hit by the wall of flames. "Moh…….moh…….." she gasped again, searching desperately for one of her parents.

"Misao! Over here, Misao!" Shrieked her mother from across the room.

Misao tried to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She sat there, petrified, trying desperately to force her body to go, but she just couldn't. Tears ran down her soot covered face, falling onto her lap like drops of mud.

"I……..soh……ry……moh…….my…….I……cah…..n't………..moh…..ve." Cried Misao. Suddenly, out of the flames, shot her father. He yanked her from the ground and threw her over his shoulder, then darted around the chunks of burning wood to the place where Sakura stood, trembling.

"We can't get out the front entrance, there are men with swords guarding it. We've got to use the window in our room. Hurry!" Shouted her father. With that he grabbed Sakura and threw her over his free shoulder, then made a mad dash to their room. Misao had never before seen him exhibit such speed: it was like lightning.

He stopped next to the window and put his wife down, grabbed Misao from his shoulder, then pushed her out of the window. He was about to do the same for Sakura when the ceiling started to catch fire.

"Run Misao!" shrieked her mother.

"No! I won't leave you!" Misao shrieked back. She tried to crawl back inside the window, but could not, for another pair of arms lifted her from the ground and away from the burning building.

"Let go of me! Let go! Mommy! Daddy!" shrieked the struggling child. But it was already too late. Misao could only watch as the wall collapsed on top of her parents, killing them both.