Okay, it's time for another full-length installment! Yay!

Warnings: this chapter is kind of graphic. No reading if you have a weak stomach. Lots of angst, light on the humor. It was rather hard to write, so if it comes across badly, my apologies…

Cultural notes : Yes! They're back, if only briefly! Here they are!

"Ojamashimasu!" – The traditional greeting of guest when entering the hosts' house. It literally means (I'm about to be a pest!). Figuratively, it means 'Please excuse my being a bother.' Or some such thing like that. It's rather rude not to say it.

Genkan – the traditional Japanese entry way; in modern times, this consists of a concrete floor in front of any and every doorway, where guests (or the people who live there regularly) remove their shoes. Shoes do NOT go past the genkan, unless they're indoor ones, and if one is IN the genkan, one wears SHOES. After removing the shoes, the bare or socked, tabied, etc. foot then steps up a slightly steep step into a front-hall like area, which is usually composed of wood-flooring. In a more traditional setting, I think the concrete would actually be packed dirt. The wood floor is the same. Tatami was only in rooms, and certainly NOT in any kitchens, bathrooms, or bathing-rooms.

Nihonshuu – what the Japanese call sake nowadays, and perhaps way back when too. What most people may not know is that sake ( With an 'e' NOT saki— I HATE it when people call it saki. That's so….anyways…) actually means all alcohol, and not just rice-wine, which is referred to as Nihon-shuu. : )

Okay, lesson over, onto the gore…I mean…story…

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"A sorrowful destiny—

Man turns into a bamboo shoot

At his inevitable end."

Matsuo Basho

Edo, Chapter 14B

Unearthing the Dead

It was a cold, clear December morning, the sky an endless azure dotted with the occasional wispy, insubstantial cirrus; testament to the biting cold hovering in the air. A good five inches of snow, uncharacteristically early for the season, blanketed everything just enough to make it appear deceptively peaceful.

It was beautiful.

Shovel slung over one shoulder, Ken paused before the former entrance to his village, snow creaking softly beneath his stilted geta as he surveyed the charred, wooden stumps of the gate, now frosted to a pale brown, the thin layer of ice making black char look like a night sky full of stars. His breath huffed out in large white clouds that evaporated quickly into the thin air. Not a sound could be heard, save the soft voices and footsteps of his companions some distance behind him. Ken had wanted to move ahead; he'd wanted some time alone first, and he was grateful that his newly-formed partnership had allowed him that service.

Stooping slightly, the brunet reached down, red fingertips digging through white fluff, brushing the light, icy stuff aside thoughtlessly as his hands and eyes searched for the plaque he knew was buried somewhere beneath the serene blanket.

Numb skin felt the etched and hammered surface of the iron plaque like a blind-man reading for the first time. The metal was cold; icily so, but Ken paid it no mind. He pulled the plaque up in one hand, smiling with a bitter sadness as he held it up to eye-level.

It was blackened and warped, but still readable, and Ken set it to the side, leaning it on one charred post so that he could find it later.

He already felt frozen, and this had nothing to do with the task he had set himself to undertake. Ken knew they would have to work fast; the temperature was absolutely freezing, yet another uncharacteristic trait this season, and there was no way anyone would be able to stay outside for long. The brunet walked inside the village slowly, stopping short of the first bodies, and set his shovel down tip-first, leaning it against his thigh. Bringing his hands to his mouth, he cupped them, breathing warmth into the already frozen digits, before pawing through his heavy winter haori for the gloves he'd bought in town. He slid them on clumsily, shivering, before turning slowly turning to survey the landscape.

It made him sick. Everything was left exactly as it had been. No one had come to bury the dead. Not even the emperor, with his apologies, had seen to it that someone had undertaken the task. Ken supposed he no longer had the power to do so.

Bending to uncover the body nearest him, Ken grimaced and swallowed a wave of bile. Gods, they'd left fresh bodies out for an entire month. The results were less-than appealing. He bit down on his lower lip and forced the tears away. Never in his life had he thought he would be burying the putrid, rotting remains of clan and family alone.

A hand descended onto his shoulder and Ken was so startled that he jumped a mile, a small, high-pitched sound escaping his lips that might have been a squeak. If he were a girl of course.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Thought you heard me coming." Omi's soft, gentle face and empathetic gaze were a slight balm to Ken's soul. He smiled sadly.

"S'ok. Probably would have jumped if you'd have warned me anyways." he replied with a smile. Omi returned his smile.

"It's alright. You've got a lot on your mind. This is horrible. I'm disgusted no one came to help." the youth finished, the corners of his smile tugging downwards in disapproval. Ken shrugged in an attempt to be non-chalant.

"Can't really expect them to, I guess. Maybe they were scared." he reasoned softly. Om's frown deepened.

"That isn't an excuse. I'm going to ask Persia why nothing was done. I know we've been short on agents, but this is inexcusable, and I'm sorry Ken." Ken merely shrugged, but inwardly he wanted to hug Omi.

"Thanks, Omi. I appreciate the sentiment. And the support. You didn't have to come all the way out here with me. Especially since it's so cold." Omi looked scandalized.

"Ken-kun! Of course I came with you! I would never let you face something like this by yourself." the youth admonished. "And neither would Ran-kun, or Yohji-kun for that matter. He hasn't even complained the whole trip. We want to be here." the blond assured him. Ken nodded, fighting to keep from tearing again. How was it that he'd managed to have such wonderful luck after everything that had happened? The ninja was sure he didn't deserve any of it.

"Now, how do you want to do this? Is there any place you want to prepare for the graves, or shall we simply bury them where they lay? I want to do this however you feel is most appropriate. And I don't want any of the men to screw it up." Omi's voice was gentle yet firm and Ken smiled sadly.

" I think it would be best to dig up the main road and make a mass grave. It's cold and there's a lot to do here. We can put an individual marker at the head of each body. I want everyone buried together, but I want them all spaced-out equally. I don't want any stacking or over-lapping. It's dishonorable, and I'll personally castrate any man who does it." The ninja knew that Omi already understood what was honorable, and what was dishonorable, but the order was given specifically for the laborers that they had brought to help, courtesy of Persia. Ken didn't trust any of them. "And I want to see the entire grave before we start filling it in, just to be sure." Omi nodded, a firm, determined look on his face. It felt strange giving the youth orders, even though he was younger than Ken.

"I'll go tell the men. Don't worry about any of it. Do what you need to do, ok?" the blond replied, turning and jogging back towards the sound of Ran and Yohji conversing quietly and the further sound of several men walking idly through the forest and griping about the cold. Ken turned, and slowly headed up the main road, intent on finding the first person he wanted to tend to himself. He'd wanted to give each person their own, honored burial, but he didn't have the time or energy to do it any longer. It was cold and the corpses were frozen and half rotted. There wasn't any more time to waste.

It was some time later and a great-deal farther into the village than he'd anticipated that Ken finally found Ryuuta. Wave after wave of regret slammed into him hard; regret that he hadn't had the time nor the patience to bury the youth. He'd wasted that time; that precious time, in pursuit of Kase. And what had that been worth? Ken clenched a fist in silent fury, bowing his head. He didn't know who he was angrier with; Kase for the betrayal in the first place, or himself for being the gullible weakling that he was. He'd been willingly duped, and it had cost him heavily. It had cost everyone heavily.

"Ken."

The sound of his name; so softly spoken in that deep baritone, had the power to silence his mind like nothing else in his world. Warm, strong arms enveloped him in a close embrace from behind and Ken choked, realizing that there were tears coursing down his cheeks. They felt like small glaciers in the cold, slowly tracking their way to his neck, leaving icy rivers of sensation in their wake.

"Who is it?" Ran asked softly, an elegant, pale hand sliding up and gripping one shoulder supportively over his chest.

"Ryuuta-kun." Ken's response was so silent the ronin nearly missed it, and he held Ken tighter.

"Well then let's put him to rest." the redhead murmured softly. Ken nodded. The warmth at his back retreated and Ken fought the urge to hug himself. He was going to be strong. Ran walked carefully around the other side of the body, opposite Ken and knelt down on one knee, gently brushing the snow from Ryuuta's long-cold corpse. He did not cringe or flinch. He did not grimace or withdraw. His touch was as gentle as that of a mother with her child, as reverent as a man before a dead hero, and Ken was so grateful for the show of respect he nearly began weeping a-new. Carefully, he knelt down across from Ran and pulled a length of linen from his sleeve. As Ran carefully removed the snow from the corpse, Ken laid the shroud out next to the body, straightening every wrinkle, removing his gloves in frustration as they made him fumble with the white cloth. It was a slightly more expensive material than the rest that they had brought, and Ken had bought it specifically for this purpose.

At length, the body was cleared of snow and the cloth made ready. Ken looked up at Ran.

"You don't have to touch him if you don't want. I can do this alone." he said evenly, already sliding his arms beneath the body slowly. Ran leaned across the body, putting a hand on the ninja's shoulder.

"Ken. I want to do this. Let me help. Please." the brunet smiled sadly, but his gaze was full of adoration.

"Okay. Let's get him on to the shroud." the ninja relented. Ran nodded and moved towards the feet of the corpse, gently sliding his hands beneath where the knees had once been. For Ken's sake, he forced himself not to think about what he was touching. He knew that Ryuuta had been important and beloved by Ken, and Ran wanted to offer as much support as he could. Together, they hefted the body slowly, a task made somewhat easier by the effects of a cold December and rigor-mortis. Once they had lain it in the center of the shroud, they each took an end of the material and reverently folded it over the corpse. It took a great assertion of will for Ran to not grimace and wipe his hands on his hakama. Instead he remained stoic. The man across from him looked distant. Ken smiled sadly.

"Thanks. Will you help me move him? I don't want to bury him here." the brunet murmured. Ran nodded, and together they each took their respective end of the shroud carrying it slowly across frozen and hazardous terrain, Ken leading the way. Finally they approached what looked to Ran to be a pile of rubble similar to all the other piles of rubble. Carefully, they set the body down in front of it.

"I wanna bury him with his family." the ninja muttered. Ran nodded, feeling something inside of him tug sharply.

"I'll go get the shovel." he said simply.

"Thanks." the ninja nodded, turning towards what must have once been a house. As Ran took off at a brisk trot, in search of their shovels, he decided he couldn't imagine this kind of pain. To him, it looked like a lot of dead bodies, already half-rotted, amidst the remains of what appeared to be several large bonfires.

What Ken saw was the remains of a life filled with familiar faces and happy memories utterly destroyed. Just the previous encounter had been enough to slam home the fact that to the brunet, these people were people he'd known, possibly loved. He could identify most of the bodies and the buildings. Could still navigate his way as if nothing had changed. In the ninja's mind's eye, he could quite probably still see the village as it was; it's whole, neat streets, lined with huts or houses, the cooking fires, the animals, the children, everything, just as it was. Ran couldn't imagine the pain Ken was experiencing. He located their shovels quickly and hurried off, not wanting to leave the ninja alone in his grief.

When he arrived back where had left Ken, grateful for not getting lost, the ninja was standing in what had been presumably the center of the house, digging with bare, ungloved fingers at the wreckage. Ran set the shovels aside, moving towards the brunet slowly.

"Ken?" the young man jumped.

"Ah! Ran. You scared me. I'm just looking for the rest of his family." Ran nodded solemnly, expression softening, as he moved to Ken's side.

"We'll look together." he said softly. Ken nodded, wiping at his face with the back of his hand, and giving Ran a sad, grateful smile.

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Yohji wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wool-covered hand. Despite the frozen air, the hard labor of digging, lifting, and moving, was hard work, and enough to get anyone's blood warming. Next to him, Omi was reverently wrapping another faceless, nameless, soulless body in a shroud and preparing it to be lowered into the mass-grave that was only partially finished. It was rough-going, digging in December, and they'd had to start several fires, melting mass amounts of snow in heavy cast-iron pots to a boiling point, before dumping it along the packed dirt that had once served as the main road. The dirt had had to be dug away carefully, layer by layer, not including the bodies they'd had to watch out for, before they had finally dug deep enough for a grave. They had caught-on early into their work that location and removal of bodies before dumping the boiling water was rather essential. The stench and revival of rotting flesh had not been pleasant.

They had decided also to only dig as much of the grave as needed, rather than trying to estimate the amount of space needed, to save both time and unnecessary labor. They had made their way through a good portion of the main drag by afternoon, including a brief break for lunch (not that anyone had had much of an appetite) and there was still no sign of Ken or Ran. The two had taken off earlier in the day, and Yohji hadn't seen hide nor hair of them since. With a slightly agitated sigh, Yohji turned to the youth beside him, who was now helping to oversea another batch of bodies lowered into the grave. Yohji paused briefly to thank whatever deities that were up there that Ken's village had been a small one. They would likely finish before dark. Then they would also likely have to deal with a depressed, mopey Ken; not that Yohji could blame him.

"Naa, Omi. Where do you think Ken's gone? We're gonna have all the bodies in soon I think. We'll need him to tell us if we're missing anything." Omi grunted as he lowered the foot-end of a corpse shroud into the pit and a waiting laborer's arms.

"I don't know Yohji. He's probably off burying his family with Ran. Let's handle one thing at a time ok?" the youth responded, sounding slightly agitated. There was a smudge of…something on his cheek that made Yohji cringe, and he reached forward with his handkerchief to wipe it off. When quizzical blue eyes turned towards him, the lanky playboy smiled and showed the young prince a large, red-black stain on the once pristine-white material.

"Ah!" the youth responded "Thanks Yohji-kun!" Yohji nodded, wondering about Ken's family. It seemed none of them had any real understanding of what it was like to walk into a place that you'd known all your life in…well, like this. The lanky brunet simply couldn't imagine, though not for lack of trying. Despite his brief tiffs with Fujimiya, Yohji hadn't complained once all day about the cold conditions, to say nothing of the grisly labor they had undertaken. He was certain the fact did not go unappreciated by Ken. Once they'd been good and into their umpteenth bottle of expensive Nihonshuu the previous evening, the ninja had declared in a slurred, wobbly manner that he had no intention of forcing any of them to help him undertake the burial of his clan. In fact, the brunet had been quite adamant that he do it alone. Something about atoning for his sins. Ran had promptly smacked him upside the head and grumbled something in a low voice, eyes permanently closed in his drunkenness. Ken had scowled back, the glare lacking focus in the face of alcohol, and rubbed the back of his head, pouting.

It had been then that Omi had stood up, with a rather over dramatic flare, one finger pointed at Ken, and began railing drunkenly about the dynasty's responsibilities, even if it had fallen from power, and blah, blah, blah…Yohji had been happily into his bowls by then, and having drank with Omi before, he was also quite used to the kid's drunken, self-righteous rants as well. The 'conversation', if that's what it could have been called, ended with Omi stating rather firmly and unwaveringly that they'd been officially declared a team, and that meant that they no longer had to do anything alone, and wasn't that so important and precious in a world as dark as this? Never mind he hadn't gotten any input from Ran or Yohji first. Not that they'd have denied it… If Yohji hadn't been drunkenly sentimental he might have been tempted to puke and then find himself a willing waitress to warm his bed for the evening.

Instead, Ken had burst into tears…like a woman…not that Yohji could hold it against the poor guy, and glommed onto Omi, wailing loudly about not deserving something or other and how wonderful everything was. Ran's eyebrow had started to twitch dangerously by then, and Yohji had taken it as a sign of embarrassed agitation. Before things could get much farther out of hand, however, Ken had suddenly seemed to sober-up, and Yohji remembered not expecting such a serious, focused gaze from a man who'd in all likely-hood consumed the same amount of sake equivalent to his body-weight. Ken could seriously pack it away…

The ninja had regarded them all seriously before asking if Omi meant it, that they genuinely wanted to help him. When he'd had their assurances, he promptly lost what composure he'd gained, and he and Omi had hung off of each other babbling for another five minutes until Ran had risen, one eye opening a tiny slit, and grabbed Ken roughly by the collar, dragging him off of Omi and up towards their room. That was the last anyone had heard from either pair until about 10am the next day.

Lost without his partner in grief, Omi had fallen to wailing all over Yohji, which, unlike Ran, the playboy was used to, and did not mind. He'd carefully led Omi to bed, as well as himself, deciding that Ken would appreciate him not bedding another woman until the early morning hours and missing out on the whole burial thing. Especially after such a rousing speech. Yohji had wondered briefly if he were going soft as he stayed with Omi at the youth's request instead, sleeping on the opposite side of the large futon so that the young prince wouldn't feel lonely. Ah, the things he did…

Which shook him back into the present, and into a labor that he did completely willingly. The muddy, steaming soil gave way beneath his shovel as layer after layer disappeared over his shoulder. He dug until he could no longer penetrate earth, and then climbed out from his self-made hole in search of another round of hot water.

As he helped pour it over the current spot of excavation, he couldn't help but find his thoughts straying to Ken's whereabouts once more. If the ninja was digging up his family, Yohji sincerely hopped Ran was with him. If not, he'd personally castrate the red-head himself. Not that Ken would appreciate it, but……

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A change of mind that Ran had borne patiently had he and Ken dragging five bodies back the way they had came, with the exception that they headed in a direction farther away from the main gates opposite the location of Ryuuta's house. They had buried the bodies beneath some sort of large sugi after much difficulty, and Ran had left Ken to give his prayers and regards in peace, being sure not to stray too far. Ken had been vague as to the reason behind the location, and Ran hadn't pushed, but he found his curiosity piqued as he ambled about slowly, trying to piece Ken's village together in his mind's eye with little success.

He finally found himself standing in front of a small, half-burned out shell of a house, or what he assumed had been a house of some sort. Glancing around casually, Ran found himself analyzing the small structure, if only because it was one of the few buildings still standing and relatively in-tact. Which was a sad thing to say indeed. His eyes finally fell upon a charred, wooden sign on the ground next to what had apparently been the front door, and he stooped to try and make out what it said.

The wood had been blackened considerably, and so Ran allowed his fingers to fit into the groves where the kanji had once been carved, idly reading like a blind man, fingers a cold stark red against the deep jet black. His eyes widened in startled realization a moment later as his fingertips recognized the familiar stokes of 'Hidaka' carved roughly into the wood. Slowly, he looked up, his gaze boring into the shadows beyond the front door. Had this been Ken's family? His house? He'd had a house, and not a hut?

Before the red-head could contemplate anything further, Ran found himself beyond the threshold, standing in the genkan like a nervous child who'd been called in for a lecture on wrong-doings. Cautiously, Ran slipped out of his sandals and stepped up onto the still hard-wood flooring. "Ojamashimasu" he murmured quietly, not understanding why, but still feeling the greeting necessary. It was if the spirits that had formerly inhabited the dwelling remained still.

The ronin stalked down the front hall stealthily, peering with great care into the fist room off of his right. It was dark at first, and Ran had to allow his eyes time to adjust, but once they had, the ronin felt sick. He grabbed at his stomach, resisting the urge to heave it's contents all over the charred floor.

:This is graphic. You don't wanna read, I don't blame you. Skip on until you see a small line-break. You have been warned and I will not be blamed.:

The snow had fallen through large holes burned into the roof to coat the floor in the center of the room with a light dusting. But it had not reached the bodies. There were four that Ran could see; an older woman and three smaller bodies that indicated children. That wasn't including the small cradle in one corner of the room.

Despite the decay and charred flesh, it was quite plain to the red-head that the people in this room had been brutally murdered before they'd been set alight. His stomach turned, clenching violently before sinking to his knees.

Ken had had siblings; more than one it looked like. Had he seen this? Whoever had done it had been careful to keep things in-tact enough so that anyone that looked closely could tell what had actually happened. Gods. Ran felt himself choke. He took a hesitant step into the room, sure that the small form on the floor he was avoiding was some sort of large human organ. He didn't bother to try and figure out what it was or who it had belonged to, although his mind blankly informed him that it looked like half a pile of intestines. The other half was wrapped around the neck of the nearest body; The largest one, wearing the remnants of a woman's kimono. It looked as if she had been bound first, hands behind her back, and the ronin looked away quickly, swallowing the bile slamming up into his throat.

Only to find his gaze landing on a small form lying curled on it's side, head perhaps thirty centimeters away. It was tiny, and wore a young boy's kimono. A younger brother, maybe? Ran was disturbed at his relief that the child had likely not suffered the way his mother had.

But he didn't want to see anything else. He couldn't take it. What if Ken had seen this? Had known what had befallen his family? What if Ken had been home when this had happened! The last thought struck panic into his heart and Ran turned blindly to flee from the room, the headless corpse before him growing larger in the dim light, the clothes whole, body fresh, Ken's eyes wide and lifeless in a dismembered face. Oh Gods. For a brief instant, Ran remembered seeing Ken's shocked face, the throwing star imbedded in his chest, dark stain seeping out to blacken navy-blue. Ken coughing blood, shuddering, dying.

In his haste to leave, the red-head collided with something hanging from the ceiling that he'd somehow mistaken for dead wood, and as he sat dazedly rubbing his head from where he'd fallen, he realized it was swaying softly. Gaze reluctant and sickened with dread, Ran looked up slowly.

A young girl, perhaps early to mid-teens, hung by a rope from a ceiling beam somehow still intact. Her kimono was torn, and the front of the corpse had been sliced open, the wound widened grossly by the heat and charring of flame. Ran didn't know if she had been dead before or after it had happened.

Aya-chan

And he ran. He ran and ran. He didn't know where was going, only that he needed to escape, get away from the pain and the death and the memories. Blinding white registered in his mind momentarily; he was outside again, thank the gods, but he couldn't get far enough away. He continued to run until his feet suddenly slid out from under him, and then he lay in the snow, curled into the fetal position, and fighting with everything he had to keep those memories away…

"Nii-chan…I'm…glad….you made it…ok…"

"Shh…Aya-chan! Don't say anything! I'm gonna get help! You have to save your energy! Fight it!" But the girl merely shook her head slowly.

"Waited…too long…already…Nii…chan…don't…blame Papa…." Ran shook his own head, tear-drops scattering over Aya's face, her clothes.

"Shhh…Aya-chan…don't…please don't…" Aya smiled, teeth bloodied, making her look like a thing of nightmares.

"Nii-chan…you won't….forget me…right?" Ran choked.

"Gods…of course not! But I won't have to. You'll be right here. I'll take good care of you Imouto, I promise." the ronin sobbed, pulling the slighter, feminine form closer to him and rocking them both. "I'll always keep you safe…always…"

"I know….you would have…Ran nii….chan…" her voice had grown breathy, laced with pain. She coughed, gurgling, and blood spilled over the corner of one side of her mouth.

"Imouto…you can't leave me! Please, don't leave me alone!" he begged. Aya smiled again.

"Don't…believe….Papa…don't…do…it….Ran…nii-can…live…for me…we…have…no reason…to be….ashamed…I'll be…watching you…" the light in blue eyes began to dim.

"Aya-chan! Aya-chan? AYA!" once-vibrant eyes opened one last time.

"Ran…" the slightest, breathiest whisper. Ran sobbed, rocking more fiercely.

" Ran…" more assertive, this time, suddenly his surroundings were paling. The read-head fought to hold on, to keep Aya in his arms, as if his embrace alone would keep her alive…

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"RAN!"

The ronin jumped, eyes suddenly wide opened, taking in reflective white snow and concerned, sorrowful brown eyes.

Ken was in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

"You ok? Gods, you wouldn't answer me…I didn't see find you…and you didn't answer me…I…I thought…just like…" apparently, the ninja wasn't having any more of an easy time than Ran was. Gods, this world was so fucked up. Ran laughed bitterly, roughly wiping the last tears from his eyes and pulling the terrified brunet into a fierce hug.

"Ran…?"

"Gods, we're so fucked…" the ronin muttered bitterly, gasping to catch his breath. Ken didn't seem to share his humor, however, and pulled back briefly, staring at the red-head cautiously.

"What the hell happened to you? I find you lying in the snow, looking like you were…dead…" the brunet paused here to shudder "And now you're laughing like a maniac? Ran, what's gotten into you?"

The red-head clutched Ken to him tighter, pushing the ninja's face into his haori.

"Shh…I'm sorry. I just….Just some old ghosts…" he murmured softly.

"Some fucking ghosts." Ken muttered into the fabric, somewhat muffled and silly-sounding. But he didn't pull away. Ran could feel him trembling slightly, and he kissed the top of the brunet's head in an uncharacteristic show of public affection.

"Looks like you've got a few monsters under the bed too. I'm alright, Ken." the brunet snorted.

"Tell that to my fucking heart, and maybe it'll stop pounding." he mumbled in response. Ran sighed heavily. When the hell had it come to this? His dependency on Ken and the ninja's dependency on him were becoming frightening things to behold. But the ronin didn't know any other way to go about their relationship, and he really didn't want to try. Having someone, no, having Ken need him made him feel a sense of comfort he hadn't felt since the day Aya-chan had died.

"I'll take good care of you… I promise…"

"I'll always keep you safe…always…"

This time, those were promises the ronin intended to keep. In any way he had to, and by any means. He would not let another loved-one slip through his grasp like water; like blood. This time, he would hold on with everything he had. And that was more than a promise; it was a solemn vow. Resolve steeling amethyst, Ran tightened his arms around Ken's form. He felt a pair of strong arms squeeze his own waist in return, and smiled the tiniest of smiles. Apparently, he wasn't alone in his promises either.

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Whew! Part one of this whole burial saga ended. Writing again, and hopefully will pick up speed soon. Hopefully will also have first chapter of one of my new stories to put up on Monday! Keep your fingers crossed minna!

Err…and my apologies for the Ken and Ran abuse in this edition…I can be graphically angsty…hope you all still have your tummies in tact. I figured that I had to stop hinting around it and give the audience an actual idea of what Schwartz (Farferello) did…War sucks, even when it's pretending to be something else…

Ja na!

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