Standard Disclaimer – the Ronin boys aren't mine… I'm just borrowing them.

Ryo was in trouble. His mind raced as he sprinted down the narrow street, dodging bystanders and weaving through the crowd. Cries of "Stop, thief!" over his heavy breathing they seemed far off. Good, he just might make it. Or… maybe not. By the time he saw the ball roll into his path it was almost too late. Swearing, he leapt awkwardly, nearly crashing into a young couple, but he managed to keep his balance and merely clipped the man's arm. Only three more blocks and he'd be at the river. From there he was home free.

"Thief! Stop him! Thief!" Closer this time. The ball must not have deterred his pursuer. Ryo was suddenly acutely aware of his ink black hair escaping the tie at the back of his neck and the baggy tail of his shirt which seemed to trail behind him. He wished for a burst of speed but got none. He was running as fast as he could. He darted left in front of a horse and rider, then right at the end of the block. He was almost there.

He could see it. The River Crimson was just a few yards away, its swift waters a dull green-gray on the landscape but to Ryo it was beautiful. He slowed his stride and, as he reached the banks, afforded himself a look back. As he had expected, his pursuer slowed as well. Ryo saw the boy look at him, then at the river and back, and the small smile that replaced the anger previously written on his face. A meager crowd flanked him, curious to see how the chase would end. The boy stepped towards Ryo, pushing his sleeves past his elbows to reveal well-muscled arms.

Ryo watched him approach, then looked at the crowd and smiled. He crept backwards until he felt the land giving way to air beneath his feet. In one fluid movement he turned and dove into the river. Forcing already exhausted muscles to hold out just a little bit, he swam across.

When he reached the other bank and dragged himself out of the waters, Ryo first pushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes then stood, patting himself down as he did. He had to make sure he hadn't lost his hard-earned prize. Sure enough, two large apples, now dripping as well, still sat in his right pocket. Triumphant, he looked back across the river to where the other boy stood, staring. Ryo pulled one of the apples from his pocket and bit into it, then turned and disappeared into the forest before him.

* * * * *

"Dammit!" Shuu grabbed the nearest object and struggled to control his rage.

"Easy there. We don't need to lose any more produce today."

Shuu looked at his uncle, took a deep breath, and dropped the coconut back onto the cart. "Sorry," he muttered.

The older man chuckled. "Didn't catch him, did you?"

Shuu stared at his uncle in disbelief. "Uncle Fan, that kid just stole from us and he got away! What, do you think it's fun to be robbed?"

Fan shook his head slowly and began stacking his oranges in neat pyramids. "No, but if you'd listened to what I was saying rather than just taking off after him you would have known not to bother. It was only Ryo."

"Ryo?"

Fan nodded. "You haven't been here long enough to know, but he comes by a few times a week."

"Does he steal every time?"

"More or less."

Shuu stared at him. "And you don't try to stop him?"

"Nope." Fan smiled and tossed an orange to his nephew. "This one's rotten. Throw it out, will you?"

Shuu fumbled with the orange before getting a solid hold on it, then inspected the front. "It looks fine to me."

"Squeeze it."

Shuu did, then shrugged. Fan took the orange from him, dug his thumbs into the skin, and pulled it apart with a spray of juice. "See?" he showed it to his nephew. On the fruit's interior the rot was obvious.

Shuu nodded then shoved his hands into his pockets and watched silently as Fan tossed the orange into a corner. Some animal would eat it sooner or later. Fan looked at Shuu, then leaned back against the stone wall behind them.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't get it."

"How I knew it was rotten?"

"Why you let that kid steal from you."

"He's a nice boy. Let's leave it at that. Now go do something useful, we still have half a day's work left.

Shuu rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall as Fan pushed off it and went back to fussing over his fruit. He didn't get it. All day, all he heard was "my fruit" this, or "my fruit" that. The man was obsessed. By the time the day was over, Shuu was positive he wouldn't want to see a single piece of "nature's candy" for a week, and he'd only been working here for a day!

"Damned fruit," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, Uncle Fan." That wasn't supposed to be out loud. But what made it even worse was that each apple or orange was sacred, a precious commodity to be guarded like a hawk, but then that Ryo kid comes and steals not one, but two of the valuables, and his uncle couldn't have cared less. Nothing made any sense. Not his uncle, not the town, not his family. Shuu just wanted to go home, back to Herrig, a full day's travel away. What was he doing here anyway?

"Shuu."

"Yeah?"

Fan didn't look at him. "You're doing good."

Shuu didn't reply. He was in Sheratz with his aunt and uncle not because he wanted to be there, but because they needed him and family always came first. His older brothers helped their father back home and Shuu, the youngest boy, went to help with the fruit. Thinking about days on end surrounded by the stuff, it occurred to Shuu that one good thing had come from Ryo's theft – if gave him something else to do for half an hour.

The rest of the day passed slowly, entirely too slowly for Shuu. He watched as his uncle chatted with customers, and when the conversation ceased to amuse him he turned his attention elsewhere. He counted the rectangular stones that formed the wall behind him. He surveyed the selection of fruit and tried to name each one. He looked at the sky and tried to figure out where the wind was blowing from by following the path the clouds took. The last activity didn't last long. Staring at the sky made him think about how his dark hair seemed to be a magnet for the sun's heat. At that point, Shuu moved in search of shade, and he stayed there until Fan began packing up and declared the work day was over.

Hours later, when they sat down to eat dinner, Shuu reflected that time at "home" wasn't much better. Aunt Leibi was very ill and the small house reeked of sickness. The lack of light combined with the tiny rooms and the rasping coughs that echoed through the halls made Shuu feel claustrophobic. The meal consisted of rice and a small bit of fish from the river which left him unsatisfied. They ate quickly and silently, then Fan cleared the table and moved to the bedroom to care for his wife. Shuu watched him disappear into the darkness, then propped his elbows on the table and sighed. Family always came first.