Next Chapter…and it's off to Iwasaki for my own ofuro fun!

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"There was a night, too,

When a robber visited my home—

The year end."

Matsuo Basho

Edo, Chapter 8

Omi stalked darkly down the hallway, cursing fluidly under his breath, the ink-black sleeves of his silk kimono billowing behind him in the speed with which he walked. With a growl, he snapped his black fan shut and tucked it in his sleeve, reaching for the door before him and sliding it open in a restrained manner. It was a near thing he avoided slamming it shut behind him.

The room within was tiny; almost dingy, and dimly lit by a single candle. Carefully, he slid aside a small black table and tugged sharply on the bright red satin border of one of the tatami mats beneath. Instead of giving-way with a rip, the entire mat came up as if it weighed nothing, revealing a door beneath. Omi grabbed the iron handle and yanked it upwards, struggling with the heavy wood it was attached to. It opened to reveal several a large storage space which contained wooden trunks and boxes of various heights and shapes, all locked. Omi reached out for a long, flat box, its wood scarred and older than many of the other boxes around it. He set it on the ground in front of him carefully, so as not to make any noise. Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled a ring of keys out and it clattered quietly for a moment as he searched for the right one.

He jammed it home into the lock and turned it just so to the left, and without any effort the lock popped open. Omi set it aside and reverently opened the lid.

Nestled within on well-kept black silk was a set of about two dozen finely made shuriken of various shapes and sizes. They gleamed brightly, even in the dull light of the room, and Omi fingered them fondly as he smiled wistfully, a grim edge to the expression. Carefully, he selected twelve of varying heights and shapes, and immediately concealed them within specially-made parts of his kimono. Closing the lid and locking the box once more, he set it back inside the trap door and pulled another, larger box out. This one was a bit deeper, and not as long, and the wood was not scarred or old. In fact, it looked rather new, and the box was covered in a black lacquer inlayed with small pictures made from mother of pearl. Omi brushed a finger over the iridescent shape of a koi, absently feeling its texture as he removed the lock.

He lifted the lid to reveal a set of long, wicked-looking daggers, along with their simply decorated sheathes. He carefully removed the daggers and sheathed them, secreting them in his wide, long sleeves, before turning and lifting the tray to reveal a set of kunai, which he also removed and tucked into special places in his hakama.

Task complete and his anger cooled, Omi carefully put the box back and set the room to rights. When he was finished, it was impossible to tell, even to the most trained eye, that there had been anything amiss. Nodding in satisfaction, he exited; sliding the door shut behind him, and went in search of Manx.

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He found her in the same room he had left her, scowling at some sort of image on a folding fan. It looked, from where Omi was standing in the doorway, to be a very detailed and finely-made painting. As he approached, Manx looked up, here eyes locking on his. She stood without flourish, snapping the fan shut and presenting it to him. Omi took it without question and opened it. It took him several moments to realize he was staring at a cleverly disguised map. It looked like the same harbor painted on the table Manx conducted their meetings at. He looked back up at her, grinning.

"Birman's getting good at this." he remarked jovially. Manx nodded.

"There are several places on there that are Kritiker-governed. You judge what they sell or offer by looking the figure they are represented by. The Fishmonger and Merchant represent safe tea houses and inns respectively. Those koi right there are places to get food without having to worry about pay. The Geisha with the purse is a place to get money, should you need it, and the woman holding the red umbrella is a Kritiker-owned brothel with capacity to hide you in the event of an emergency, as well as a wealth of local gossip and information. The sakura blossoms and their petals represent areas of danger or risk. Avoid them. You will be careful. If they give you trouble or put you or this mission at risk, you will kill them or lose them, is that understood?" she replied, the steel in her voice harder and sharper than any sword. Omi merely nodded. Manx tended to get this way when things got hairy, and Omi knew it was best to refrain from talking.

"Good. Get going now. Wait for a bit and see what Takatori's men do. When things get too risky, do what you can to get the three of you away and hidden from Takatori's sights. Persia wants this ninja alive. He's taken an interest in him. I don't have to tell you why. Do not fail." Omi nodded again, grimly. Suddenly, Manx's expression softened just slightly.

"And Bombay; remember, there is no failure in making sure that you are alive and in one piece. If you have to kill them, do not consider it a failure. I am sure Persia would grieve your loss to Kritiker over the loss of two strangers." she concluded. Omi favored her with a small smile, knowing that what Manx had really meant was that she and his father were not happy with the outlook of such a rushed mission and were worried for him. Probably Yohji too. Omi himself was worried about Yohji; in the lion's den at this very moment. He would have taken his job over Yohji's any day.

"Of course, Manx." he replied with a nod of his head.

"Good. Then off you go. And I want word of the events as often as can be spared. I've told Balinese the same." Omi frowned at the mention of Yohji.

"Manx…will Balinese be alright?" he asked tentatively, concern laced in his voice. Manx nodded.

"He'll have to be. Now go. We'll be fine if everyone does as they're told." she prodded him towards the door. Omi snapped the fan shut and tucked it away in his sleeve as she slid the door shut behind him. He headed down the hall and then out into the dark of the night, mind sobered by the recent turn of events. Takatori had found out about Ken. And he was, as predicted, trying to be rid of the man as soon as possible. And, as predicted, he was too cocky to truly understand the depth and means Kritiker had to keep Ken safe. And that was, of course, not including Ran himself. Omi suspected Ran alone could dispatch with any lackeys Takatori might send. They could only hope the attacks would be so obvious.

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Shiori was nervous. She was beyond nervous. Despite the new, and rare heaviness of her purse, the thoughts of what she was doing ran through her head like frightened children, and she felt her conscience balking. But money was money. And she needed it badly. Besides, she thought, as she balanced the tray stacked with food and kneeled before the ronin's door, it wasn't as if she was driving the killing blow into the men's flesh herself. They were the ones who would choose to eat it. The mantra reassured her as she knocked and was bid to enter.

The room was dimly lit, but she could see the two men clearly. The ronin scowled at her from beneath a crimson fringe, his strange purple eyes shadowed in the lantern light. He sat between the two futons, closer to the one on the left, presumably to be nearer to the sick man that laid in it, curled on his side, blankets to his chin. His eyes were closed, and she felt a sense of relief at that. If his eyes had been open, Shiori was certain it would have increased her nervousness ten-fold. She did not think she would have been able to complete her task beneath the eyes of a sick man. As it was, being beneath that ronin's stare was enough. She nearly dropped the tray as she knelt to set it down before him, and apologized. He snorted and said nothing, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. She went gladly, and felt her mind ease the moment the door slid shut behind her. It was out of her hands now….

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Ran reached eagerly for the tray in front of him. It had been at least a day and a half since the ofuro incident, and the pace of Ken's healing seemed to be accelerating. Apparently, a bath had been a very good idea. It made Ran feel strange as he watched Ken recovering, and he tried not to dig too deeply into those emotions. He decided he felt only relief that they could begin hunting Takatori soon. Ran didn't let himself feel anything deeper than that.

With a recovering Ken, that meant that the food selection had gone back to more regular things, and Ran had never been more happy in his life to get his hands on some soup with actual vegetables in it. Ken was sleeping, and since Ran didn't have the heart to wake him (and wanted to get some food into himself before he had to help Ken), he removed the lid from a bowl of miso quietly, and cupped it in both hands as he brought the steaming liquid towards his mouth.

"Don't." the hoarse, quiet whisper startled him so badly he nearly spilled hot soup all over himself. He turned an impressive glower on Ken.

"If you don't mind, I'm fucking hungry." he replied curtly. Ken chuckled softly; a dry, bitter sound, full of ironic humor.

"Eat that and you won't live long enough to see breakfast." he replied, voice still soft and weak. Ran blinked at him, before carefully lowering the bowl back to the tray. He glowered at it for good measure before turning the expression on Ken, waiting for the man to elaborate.

"That food is poisoned. Probably heavily." he continued. Ran blinked at him again in slight surprise.

"How do you know that?" he asked softly. Ken's smile was bitter.

" I'm a ninja, remember? I assassinate people for a living. Part of the job is reading body language. That maid was very, very nervous. More than they usually are when they come-around." he chuckled. Ran thought on it and realized that the maid had been nervous, but in an unusual kind of way. Instead of blushing and stuttering, she had been silent and unblinking; face full of determination instead of fear. He heard Ken break out into a cough beside him. Instantly, he turned and had Ken in his arms sitting upright. He froze the cup halfway to the man's lips and glowered suspiciously at it.

"Probably not the best idea. When was it brought?" Ken croaked beside him, also eyeing the cup.

"Hn. An hour ago." Ken shook his head slowly.

"Nope, put it back. Looks like we've worn out our welcome." he quipped, coughing raggedly. Ran frowned at him, slowly setting the cup aside. Ken needed water. He needed more than that. This, was a very big problem. They were in alarmingly immediate danger. Ken was probably being stalked at the very moment, and by default, Ran himself. They needed to get out of here, and quickly. But that involved moving quickly. Ken would be lucky if he could walk down the stairs with just Ran helping him, let alone travel far and fast. For the first time in two years, Ran was unsure of what to do. And that made him nervous. Especially for Ken. Ran didn't like being nervous for someone else. It set him on edge double time when he was. It meant that that person was getting beneath his skin, and as much as Ran was committed to helping Ken, getting emotionally involved was something completely different. Although a small voice in his head taunted him that he'd already become emotionally involved. Ran told that voice to go to hell.

"Go. You'd better get out of here. Things are probably gonna get ugly real soon. Get out while you've got the chance." Ken said softly. He was sitting up fully and looked to be gathering the strength to stand. Ran looked at him and considered. The logical part of his brain agreed. It had been ludicrous to stay here so long, caring for a stranger; to put himself into harm's way for this man was unacceptable. However, something deep within him, likely the very same thing that had led him to care for Ken as he had, was furious that Ken had even suggested the idea. Ran realized it was that part of him that was running his actions at the moment. Oddly, he didn't really care. His thoughtful expression turned into a glare and he pushed the shakily rising Ken back down to the futon. Brown eyes full of surprise and confusion stared up at him.

"I have to go. I don't expect you to risk your—"

"I am not a coward, and I don't give a fuck what you expect of me, I will not leave you. Do you think I made all this effort just to give up so easily?" he barked. The confusion in Ken's eyes deepened, and fear began to mingle with it.

"Look, I'm sorry you made all the effort so it could be wasted, but Gods dammit Ran, this is your life we're talking about." he growled. Yes. That was desperation in his voice. Ran wondered at it.

"It is my life and I will do as I please with it, and if you seek to insult me further by implying that I would so callously throw your life away after everything I've gone through, then I will be forced to retaliate." he shot back. Fear bloomed into panic, and Ken shot back upright.

"Ran, I can't protect you, you can't die because of me! Do you understand? You can't! I couldn't take it…"Ken's voice rose in pitch and fervor and he began rocking slightly. Ah. Is that what this was all about?

"I am insulted you think so little of my skill. I do not need to be protected by a sick man. Even a woman could do better than you at this point." he snapped back, having had enough of Ken's nonsense. The remark turned out to have been a wise choice as anger replaced the fear in Ken's eyes. It did not, however, replace the panic.

"I'm not that fucking helpless you bastard!" Ken snarled, fists balling. Ran raised a meaningful eyebrow in his direction and looked over his bruised, scarred body. Ken flushed red in embarrassment and glared. He opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut, turning his head abruptly and staring at the blanket over his legs, jaw working in anger. Ran waited for him to come to his senses while he took a deep breath, so they could finally make a decision on a course of action. Instead, once he had seemingly steadied himself, Ken threw the blankets aside with a vicious toss. Both Ran's eyebrows went up.

"What are you doing?" he grunted. Ken didn't answer him. In fact, Ken refused to look at him as he shakily rose to his feet. He ambled across the room and threw the closet open. Ran watched him struggle and wince as he put on his hakama and realized that Ken was cursing his weakness under his breath. His hands shook while he tied the torn, bloody garment in place around his waist. He gave the ties a final, firm tug and winced as they tightened.

Watching Ken, Ran realized belatedly that he had just suffered another attack of temper. And that his mouth had once again gone off without clearance from his brain. Shit. That had been rather poorly done of him; especially in the face of Ken berating himself for being a failure over the loss of his clan and lord. There hadn't been anything the man could have done to prevent it, yet somehow Ken saw his inability to do so as inordinately weak.

Ran sighed heavily as Ken went about trying to bend over and gather his weapons into his hakama. He wasn't having much luck, and the way he flinched and grimaced silently with most movements gave Ran a sudden attack of heavy guilt. No, that hadn't been well-done of him at all. When Ken's entire body went from trembling to shuddering, Ran rose with a heavy sigh and went to him. Ken ignored him. Ran reached up and put a hand on the man's shoulder. Ken flinched away and lost his balance, colliding with the closet door. He gave a small cry of pain as he hit and then cursed himself under his breath for it. Gods, the man was a mess.

"Ken…I didn't mean it that way." Ken snorted and didn't look up from the floor.

"You didn't have to." he grunted. Ran was right. If he couldn't protect himself, then how could he hope to protect Ran? He had to leave. Ken had never felt so ashamed in his life. Ran had accused him of being weaker than a woman. A woman. Sadly, Ken knew it was true. Gods, this was so humiliating. He couldn't even dress himself properly without flinching all over the place.

Ran frowned, wondering how he was supposed to get Ken back into his right head and get them out of here when the man wouldn't even listen to an apology.

"What is that supposed to mean?" his tone sounded more barbed than he'd intended. Ken gave another bitter laugh that ended in a cough. Ran didn't know? He'd just said it himself; Ken was weak. He was helpless. He may as well have been a child for everything that Ran had had to do for him. And now to have Ran's reasoning thrown in his face; to know that Ran was only caring for him because he saw Ken as helpless as a woman, it was too much. He should have tried harder to stop himself from leaning on Ran, from thinking of the man as a comrade. Hadn't he learned the first time he'd been to weak to save his men? What made him think that he could stay with Ran like this and avoid the same fate. No, Ken was not about to let history repeat itself.

"You've been taking care of me because you think I'm too weak to take care of myself." He said simply, deciding that maybe if he could get Ran angry enough the man would leave. It wasn't hard to do. Ken was angry already, and was almost never able to control his mouth when he was.

Ran's frown deepened. Well….yes. Why else would he have taken care of Ken? Before he voiced the question, Ken spoke up once more, softer this time.

"Is that all this was? You hit me and saw that I was already weak and felt it was your fucking duty to take care of me? Is that why you wanted me to stay with you? So you could feel good about yourself? Have control over someone else? You think when I heal I'm gonna be some kind of fucking pansy? That you're gonna have to watch over me like I'm some fucking emotional woman?" Ran's bewilderment evaporated into rage very quickly. Ken was making all of his good effort sound like some sort of sick sport to humiliate him. Ran was not that kind of man. And the thought that anyone could think otherwise, could think that he was like that slime Takatori…

Sick of Ken refusing to look at him, Ran grabbed the man by the shoulders and turned him towards himself with a vicious movement. One of his hands grabbed Ken's chin roughly and forced the man to look up at him, not caring that Ken's head hit the back of the closet with a loud 'crack' as he did so. He brought his face within centimeters of the ninja's, teeth bared in a growl.

"If you think to accuse me, for even one moment, of playing with you and humiliating you for my own gods-dammed sport after all that I have done for you, I will not think twice about granting your suicide wish." Ken returned the glare just as fiercely, his own teeth bared, and in his anger, Ran missed the calculating light beneath the rage in Ken's eyes.

"Then if I'm not here to amuse you, why are you so insistent about keeping me around? Are you trying to bring me in your debit?" he hissed in reply. Before Ran could think, he slammed Ken back into the closet, rattling the door. Ken, to his credit, grit his teeth and did not make a sound. He did not break eye-contact either. As Ran stared into molten brown eyes flashing with irrational rage, he felt the urge to just drop Ken and walk away overwhelm him. At the very least, Ran felt that Ken's childish antics did not deserve a response. Surely Ken was not worth this slander on his honor.

"Maybe I should just leave you then…if you can think something like that after all this time, then you deserve it…" he growled quietly. He missed the faint triumphant light in dark brown eyes. Anything else either man wanted to say was cut-off in the next moment.

The door to their room flew open unannounced. Ran and Ken's heads snapped to the entryway at a startled-sounding squeak. Omi stood there, blushing fiercely and looking anywhere except the two of them.

"Uhh…I'm sorry to interrupt….but umm….I felt it was important." he muttered, looking at the floor. Ran pondered agitatedly about Omi not meeting their eyes for all of about three seconds before he realized why Omi wasn't meeting their eyes. He looked down to see Ken's eyes, a mere three or four centimeters away, averted to the wall beyond Ran's shoulder, a hot blush covering his cheeks. Ken was panting and sweating with the exertion of the bit of rough-housing he'd endured as well as standing upright for so long on his own. Ran could feel the hot breath on his cheeks and smell the faint tinge of sweat and something vaguely smoky. In the light from the hall, he could see the features of Ken's face set in deep misery, which not even anger could not hide.

He realized then what Ken had been doing. And he also realized he had played along perfectly. He had been on the verge of just leaving Ken to fend for himself; hurt and alone. Ken was afraid of staying with him. Afraid that somehow Ran was going to end up like the people in his village. Afraid that he would have more blood on his hands.

Ran could understand the fear, he could even understand the sentiment behind it. But that did not stop his anger. Ken was going to have to learn sooner or later that the only man he was responsible for was himself. Ran decided then and there that if he taught Ken nothing else, he would be sure that Ken learned to be responsible for only himself.

He didn't know if he should be angry with Ken or himself for their argument. In the end his own guilt won out. Ken was sick and out of his right-mind and emotionally broken. Ran was not. He had no excuse. Ignoring Omi, he leaned forward a few centimeters, closing the gap between them. He could feel Ken's chest heaving against his own, the breaths somewhat irregular, and the man's heart seemed to be trying to frantically beat it's way out of Ken's chest and into his own. He endeavored to ignore it as he whispered softly into Ken's ear.

"I will not leave you. So stop trying. Do not underestimate me, and do not abuse my honor to accomplish your schemes." he smiled slightly as he felt Ken's body shudder at the sensation of his hot breath, and suddenly the closeness of their bodies in the absence of anger hit him full force. Ran was finding it very hard to pull away. He could feel every movement, every breath, the trembling of Ken's muscles beneath his own. Ken's body was warm, and the breath in his ear hitched slightly as Ran allowed himself to inch the slightest bit closer. Without thinking, Ran's tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips, catching Ken's earlobe slightly in the process. A small shudder passed through the body beneath him, and leaning in for another, fuller taste seemed like a marvelous idea to Ran, the salt of Ken's skin still lingering on his tongue.

Omi cleared his throat pointedly, saving Ran from perhaps embarrassing himself further, and Ran came to his senses with a scowl. Ken jolted beneath him, as if coming to himself in surprise, but was too drained to move away from Ran at the moment. Ran did not move either, and he told himself it was only because he did not want Ken to collapse. He looked over at Omi pointedly. The young man had the grace to blush in embarrassment and look away to the wall quickly.

"Knock next time." he growled. Omi nodded, wondering what the hell it was he'd just seen. Those two certainly hadn't wasted any time.

"I-I'm sorry, but this is an emergency." he replied slowly. He shut the door and walked inside carefully, as if afraid he would be bitten. Ran's scowl deepened at the invasion of their personal sanctuary, especially in light of recent events, but said nothing. Omi did not seem as the type to take such invasions lightly.

"Downstairs, in the dining-room, I heard several men talking about Ken." Omi nodded a head in the ninja's direction for emphasis. Ran's entire body tensed over him and Ken wondered what it meant. He could already plainly guess what sort of news Omi was delivering, and he was surprised to see Ran reacting so tensely. Perhaps the man had not been as prepared for a sneak attack as Ken had thought. Ken thanked whatever deities were listening at that moment that he had been around to stop Ran from poisoning himself.

"And what did they have to say?" Ran ground out from somewhere above him. Ken studied the pale throat in front of him absently, trying very hard to keep his brain from drifting back to the feel of Ran's body pressed against his or the memory of Ran's warm, moist tongue on his ear lobe. Omi looked a bit more nervous.

"I thought I should warn you… they said something about poison…you two haven't eaten anything, have you?" Ran's expression turned slightly softer and Ken gave Omi a cheerful grin.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm still useful for something these days." he replied easily, but Omi detected some sort of hidden meaning behind it. Ran's expression twitched once, but did not leave its current glare otherwise. There was a promise of retribution in the brief glower directed Ken's way, driving Omi's curiosity much higher than it had been before. Pushing it aside, he pressed on hastily.

" I fear it won't be that easy Ken-san. They'll be coming up to make sure the job's done…" he trailed off. If he was expecting Ran or Ken to be surprised, neither man showed any reaction at all. Ran snorted.

"Good, then it'll save me the trouble of going out to find them. Ken shut-up." he added, catching sight of Ken opening his mouth to protest. Omi fidgeted nervously.

"Umm….with all due respect Ran-san, you don't know how many or their skill or when they'll be coming…." he pressed on.

"Omi, stop saying 'san'. It isn't necessary. And it's a chance we'll have to take. We won't be able to get anywhere safe in so little time." Ran replied.

"That's why you should get the hell out of here now. Without me. " Ken growled at him. Ran's head snapped back to glare at Ken, and the heat of the gaze made even Omi fidget. He certainly knew he'd be fearing for his life he he'd found himself beneath that look. Ken closed his mouth, jaw locking in anger, and looked away. But he did not protest further.

"As I was saying, we don't have much choice." he repeated. The emphasis on the word 'we' was not lost on Omi anymore that it was lost on Ken. The misery etched into the brunette's expression deepened. Omi studied them both, and pressed on carefully, keeping up a nervous façade.

"W-well I was thinking that maybe you should…come down to my room. You know, like sneak in….after they douse the lanterns. And we could wait and see who comes in here from my room. And then maybe if the odds are okay, Ran, you and I could take care of them. You know, like get the drop on them." Omi waited, not having to fake his fidgeting by much. Ran's glare was not the best of things to be pinned beneath. Ken was the first to speak.

"Absolutely not! Are you out of your mind? What the hell do you want to put yourself in that kind of danger for?" he growled. Inwardly, Omi smiled. If only you knew. he thought.

"Unfortunately, I have to agree with Ken, Omi. While I am already involved for obvious reasons, " Ran ignored the dirty look Ken gave him "You are not. And getting involved in this could be more dangerous than you think." Omi stood straighter and threw back his shoulders, slipping into his 'determined yet innocent' body pose as he fixed the two of them with a firm glare.

"Don't you think I'm already in trouble since I came up here to warn you? I might as well go the rest of the way. I want to help. This isn't right, and I want to see it through. Ken-san, what those thugs did to you is unforgivable. If they think they can do it again, then they should think again." he replied stiffly, easing indignant and determined anger into his voice.

Ran simply shrugged, as if to say It's your hide kid, not mine. , and leaned back a bit from Ken. Ken glared murder at both of them for several moments before he suddenly let out a heavy sigh, his body slumping back against the wall in a position of extreme defeat.

"You're both idiots, for the record. I tried. It's your funeral." he sounded miserable. Omi's heart went out to him. Not even Ran rebuked him for the remark.

"Don't worry Ken. It's gonna be just fine." Omi reassured. Ran looked down at Ken, no longer angry, his expression unreadable yet intense. Ken seemed not to notice. Finally, Ran spoke, his voice much softer than before.

"Why don't you get out of those filthy pants and put the yuukata on while Omi and I get our things together?" the comment was a request and a threat at the same time. If Ken didn't get himself dressed, Ran would do it for him. Ken shrugged and slowly began untying his hakama, looking for all the world like he would have bolted out the door if he could have. Omi didn't blame him. The poor soul looked rather humiliated. He bent to begin gathering the medicinal items at his feet while Ran set about getting his and Ken's weaponry, clothing, and blankets together. Ken shakily undressed and then redressed, looking all the while like he might fall down at any moment. Omi noticed Ran watching him like a hawk without seeming to do so. Although Ken noticed anyway, if the hot blush that refused to leave his cheeks was any indication. He also refused to meet anyone's eyes. Omi sighed. Whatever had happened between Ran and Ken was obviously something important. It was looking to be another long night.

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Poor Ken. He's going to be emotionally prickly for a long time. At least Ran won't be dumb enough to fall for it again. Although he may start loosing his patience more frequently. Heh. Ok, that's all for now folks!