Here's the second part . . . Sorry I cut it off in the middle. I'm too tired to finish it.

Toru sat by the small fire and looked around this hauntingly familiar house. So many memories waited here for him. So much pain, so much loss. He could only imagine how much he had missed. He looked over at Kurai and sighed. This boy deserved more explanation than he knew how to give. Kurai sat on a short stool near the fire, stirring a pot of lean soup. The vegetables looked to be weak and small, and Toru's heart went out to this boy who had grown so alone, so poor and alone. Kurai looked so tired, aged beyond his years, and Toru had no one to blame for this but himself.

He took a sip of the tea Kurai had served him. It was hot but thin, leaving him wanting more but glad to have the warmth. He wasn't sure how to begin. It was such a hard story to tell. He glanced back up at this son he barely knew and saw that this time he was looking back at him with a face of blank expectation. He was so hardened.

"There's so much to tell you," Toru began. He sighed again. "I ask you to be patient with me. This is a story I haven't ever told anyone and I don't have the fluidity that comes with frequent remembrance. I may forget things or put things in the wrong places. Please don't hesitate to ask for clarification, "he looked into Kurai's expectant eyes, "because I want you – need you – to understand."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then began. "This story begins far before you were born, even before I met your mother. I wasn't a great deal older than you, only nineteen or twenty years old. I thought I was so smart then. I thought I was on top of the world, and in many ways, I was. I had great opportunity in my life to go and become what I wished, to do something great with my life. And that was my goal, to do something great.

"I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a change for better in the world. I decided that a life spent on trivial, selfish pursuits was a waste for all involved. There were so many people that needed help and I wanted to be someone who could maybe make a difference for good in their lives." Toru shook his head. "I was so idealistic then. Such a dreamer.

"There is a group you have heard of, that you know of well. They were a strong and large power years ago and have gained even more prominence and influence in the years since this story began. Their influence touches every part of society. They are praised and acclaimed by many, lauded near and far for their works as they have been for many, many years. You have, of course, already guessed who I speak of. The Kubura.

"Though their influence in a village as small as this one is not great, I know you must have met members of this affiliation at least a few times, and it is likely that you feel very well toward them as most do. Do I speak true?"

Kurai shrugged. "I suppose. I haven't seen much of them, especially since the aftermath of the plague calmed down, but they seemed to be good enough." He paused in reflection, thinking to himself as he stirred the soup a little more and then brought a steaming spoonful to his mouth, gently blowing on it. He took a sip and nodded to himself, adding more of a spice Toru didn't recognize. Kurai continued to speak. "They always wanted to help people and things, but they never really did a whole lot, now that I think of it. Not often, anyway. They came in after the plague and helped rebuild the economy, I remember that, but for smaller things they always act like they want to help and then don't really follow through very well. But that's obviously because they have more important things to be doing. I mean, they practically run all of Japan."

Toru nodded. "Yes, this is their way. They touch people just enough to convince them of their goodwill and then cease to help, excusing themselves with other matters. But you must excuse me for speaking this way. I have not yet given you any reason to see my words as truth and until such verification is given I will hold no more sway than a fragile bamboo shoot in the midst of a terrible storm. I shall thus continue my tale.

"I chose to join with this group, the Kubura, so that I might do good with them. I saw that their reach was far and their grip firm, and I knew that I would have greater opportunity there than anywhere else. I chose to become a gojou-morohanotsurugi, or one who fights with both sides of the sword for the five great Confucianist virtues – justice, politeness, wisdom, fidelity and benevolence. It meant giving everything you had, all of yourself, for defending against the evils man inflicts upon himself and others. Sometimes the job of the gojou-morohanotsurugi was simply to help a widow carry her burdens, other times it was to fight an underground band of thieves or smugglers, not being afraid to literally be the blade with two edges that give death.

"I went and trained with the Kubura for several years. I had not had much experience with a blade before joining them, as I was a peaceful man who had no need to find fault with his neighbor, so I had much to learn. However, with diligent and excruciating study I soon became quite adept at the art of the sword.

"When they decided I was ready to go and be what I had dreamed, I felt excited and ready for the challenge. I was like the great dragon, ready to go and meet my foe without fear of defeat, knowing that my cause was just and my eye steady. I felt that my destiny was close and within the reach of my outstretched fingertips. With this view I left my training place and ventured out on my own, roaming the countryside and the cities, looking for opportunity to improve life.

"For the first few years that is exactly what I did. I had trained hard and was thus very good and never lost a fight or even gained great injury. I helped the sick and the poor and dealt justice to the slothful and wicked. My life felt full as a pool in the midst of a hidden vale, beautiful and delicate with strong purpose and vigor, untouchable and brimming with strength. I was so happy. I was a young man who had reached for a dream and grasped it firmly by the tail, riding it through the stars and wonders of the skies. Life was exceedingly good to me.

"I progressed in rank over the years as I grew better at my trade, more adept at my skill. Soon I found myself among the best, surprised and proud that I found myself their equal. I thought that surely my life could do nothing but grow in strength of goodness and purpose. I soon discovered the error of this way of thinking.

"I found that the higher I grew in the path of this great good the less good I seemed to do. My skills were used for a different purpose, and yet for the same – I was told that the things I did were for the greater good of the people, and I believed like a young and innocent duckling. I had no reason not to. The Kubura were never anything but good to me and to everyone, and it was explained to me that some losses were necessary for the greatest good to roll forth. I found this a difficult concept to accept, but over time I grew to see it as truth.

"What things am I speaking of, you wonder? At first only small things. I was told that the smallest things, like helping a child retrieve a lost toy, were of no great consequence. I was a trained warrior and could be using my skills in more efficient and effective ways. They taught me gradually that sway is learned by the sword, not the outstretched hand, and taught me to see the world accordingly. I was told to still help in small ways from time to time, because the need did not disappear as my services were needed elsewhere, but to keep these times sparse, for they explained that the younger, newer gojou-morohanotsurugi were not yet masters of the blade as I was and thus were more fit for those tasks. I saw the logic in this, that it rang soundly as a well forged bell, and slowly I conducted my life by this standard more and more until I was what they had prepared me to be – a killer with a good cause, a righteous slayer of evil.

"They warped my view of right and wrong, making me see good as bad and bad as just. I was taught to secretly punish those whose only offense was disagreement with the Kubura. The Kubura, you see, stood for truth and fought for great Confucianist values, thus it was deemed blasphemy to speak ill of it.

"I lived my life in this way for many years, growing harder and colder inside until the spark of good and life that had begun my quest so many years before was all but dead, unnourished and neglected until it withered and threatened to leave entirely. I had grown so high in the organization that I began to see the corruption and greed that led to the assignation of these things I did and I did not care. I no longer held ideals in my heart or reached for stars of possibility and hope. As I was rewarded for my service to the Kubura my greed increased and became insatiable as a caterpillar in a towering tree. I could not get my fill. Positions and rewards were all that mattered to me anymore. My heart grew cold.

"I lived in this despicable life for many years, socializing with the top of the order, until an assignment came that changed my ways, that broke me of my blindness. I will tell you of it now.

"I was sent to destroy the family of a poor man who had worked at the mines near Fukuoka and had turned into a revolutionary. He called for strikes and workers rights and raised a great deal of agitation among his fellow workers. These mines, of course, belonged to a subsidiary of the Kubura. He was put out from his job and disgraced, and yet he continued to fight and cause problems for the Kubura. He went to other working people in different areas looking for support and telling his story of "wrongful oppression," looking for handouts and people to join him, both of which he found. The next thing done was the firing of his supporters. They thought that if he saw the effects of his deeds perhaps he would come to sense and quit his proclamations.

"But it did not. Indeed, it seemed to fuel his flame for persecuting the Kubura and he pressed forward with more vigor and conviction than before. As for his followers, he lost only a few, not at all a substantial amount. Secret bribes were of no avail. Several close affiliates were assassinated. Still he persisted. There seemed no way to stop him.

"I was at this point assigned to destroy his family. I was set to the task and saw no wrong in it, seeing it as merely another job, another way to climb my way farther into my life of prestige and comfort. I set about achieving this goal with a grim determination offset by a certain boredom. I knew the job was a gruesome one yet posed no challenge or threat. Killing women and children was never difficult.

"As I arrived at the house I wasted no time in ascertaining if all the family was present, and they were, along with another child, presumably a neighbor, but it was of no consequence. Killing the extra child would just show the ruthlessness of the victor. I knew this job would be one of the easiest I had ever done."