Ronin

A TGS-based story

by C.S. Hayden

Disclaimer: Gargoyles is the property of Disney and Buena Vista Television. Characters from "Yama's Path" by Kimberly T. appear by permission. All original characters and plot are the creative property of Christi Smith Hayden.

Part III

It is diversity that reveals one's true character and this was never more true as the Tengu rallied to save their ill-fated rookery. O-tama worked harder than anyone ever thought possible, making the tonics that Master Kado prescribed and giving them to the new hatchlings. Kiyo and Miza's babies were the strongest, although Kiyo's son was still spitting up most of what he'd eaten. Bana's daughter barely had the strength to cry after her initial awakening. She would fall asleep in mid-suckle, the milk dribbling out of her mouth. O-tama's own baby tried desperately to nurse but seemed unable to manage the simplest of functions.

The anxiety of the adults had begun to affect the Three before the night was over. It would have been a night of celebration for them as well, marking a halfway point in their passage to adulthood. Tancho and Mozu confined themselves to deep sighs and pitiful looks; Takakura's sulky whining earned him a backhanded cuff on the ear from Doryo before I finally took them off to the classroom for the remainder of the evening. Personally, I was grateful for the distraction – being around the newborns and their parents only reinforced my own deepset shortcomings.

In the early morning hours, the Three and I glided down to the campgrounds and left the cell phones near their owners' tents. I was tempted to keep them because, in spite of the pain it had inadvertently caused me, it had been good to hear voices from home. As O-tama would say, it was a small step in the right direction, but it was not a path that I was ready to follow. It only made me more aware that life had gone on without me.

A high-pitched keening greeted Kirin and the Three when they shook off the debris from their stone sleep. Kirin and his students had roosted by the classroom to stay out of the way of the adults. The strange cry was joined by other voices, foreshadowing things to come. Startled, Kirin asked, "What is that?"

"Something must have happened," Takakura said as he frowned in that direction. "The females are all crying."

"Stay here," Kirin commanded and bolted on all fours down the path.

O-tama was bent over something on the ground, rocking back and forth. Her long silver-white hair covered her like a shroud. She lifted her head and wailed an eerie otherworldly cry. Takamatsu tried to comfort her but she pulled away from him in her grief. Tears were pouring down Miza's face and she stopped Kirin from approaching.

"Her baby," Miza whispered shakily, "it only turned to stone halfway. Its heart stopped beating. When O-tama awoke, it had been dead for hours."

"Sweet Buddha," Kirin breathed. He felt chilled to the bone. His own pain was nothing in comparison to what O-tama and Takamatsu must be feeling right now. "She will do herself an injury," he murmured back to Miza. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I know where she keeps her tonics. There's one that's very calming -- a little soothes the nerves, a bit more will bring on sleep."

"Go and fetch it," Kirin said. "I'll hold O-tama for you -- she's too upset to take it willingly."

Miza left her baby with one of the other females and scurried off, returning quickly with a stoneware bottle and a cup. Kirin let her approach the bereaved couple first; as Takamatsu's daughter, she had a right to share in their grief.

"O-tama," Miza began gently, "I've brought you something to ease your pain. Please, step-mother, will you take it?" When O-tama shook her head and continued to sob, Miza appealed to Takamatsu. "Her grief is too much, otou-sama, she will hurt herself if she continues like this. Will you let Kirin-san help me give her this tonic?"

Takamatsu nodded curtly. On closer inspection, Kirin could tell that the Tengu leader was holding onto his own stoic composure by a thread. "Aisai," Takamatsu said in a hoarse voice, "come now -- you must let us help you. There is nothing more that we can do for this child. Her spirit has taken wing and all that is left is an empty shell." He reached down and began to ease her hands away from the lifeless bundle that she was holding. "Please, beloved, you must let go."

Unexpectedly, O-tama struck out at them with a fresh bout of wailing and hysterics. Kirin darted in and caught her arms. O-tama showed surprising strength for her age and size. Pinning her arms to her sides by the simple impediment of wrapping his arms around her slight form, Kirin was finally able to subdue her. Takamatsu was weeping silently as he helped pry her mouth open so Miza could administer the sedative. O-tama sobbed in his grasp as her struggles weakened.

"She's calming down now," Kirin reported quietly. "Her heartbeat is slowing."

"Give her to me," Takamatsu said, holding out his arms. Kirin transferred the healer's limp body to him. "Poor aisai," he murmured. "O-tama was so looking forward to this hatching. She never expected to be mated, you know, not after so long. Takakura was a blessing in our old age and to have another – she thought it was a miracle." He laid his feathered head gently on top of her silver hair. "We tempted fate one time too many, beloved."

Both Kirin and Miza turned away to give them some privacy. Old Sakura came forward with a length of cloth in her hands. She did not need to say what it was for. Spreading his wings to shield the view from the grieving parents, Kirin helped the two females swaddle the dead hatchling for burial. It was a disturbing sight; one side hard stone and the other side cold flesh. Death must have occurred seconds after sunrise. Kirin could only hope for the child's sake that it had been swift and painless.

It was only the beginning. One by one, the new hatchlings died. Once she recovered from the loss of her own infant, O-tama fought desperately to save the others but the long term damage had been done. The weak lungs of Bana's hatchling never improved and her breathing grew more labored until it stopped completely. Kiyo's baby slowly wasted away, always hungry but unable to keep the food down. Miza's daughter lasted almost a week – just long enough that everyone dared to hope that their luck was changing – before she too closed her eyes on the world.

Sadness hung over the village like a shadowy veil. In the schoolroom, Kirin kept his students busy with a normal routine at Takamatsu's request; the Tengu adults were too occupied with their own grief to have the patience to deal with the youngsters. Takakura and Tancho were the first to recover but Mozu kept to himself, sitting in a corner with one of Kirin's few books. He would turn the pages occasionally, but Kirin thought it was unlikely that Mozu was actually reading.

Finally one night after he'd dismissed the others, Kirin took a seat by his smallest student. "Mozu-kun," he asked carefully, "is there something you'd like to talk about? You've been quieter than usual."

The dark brown-tipped feathers on his head rose and fell. "I know."

"What's wrong?" After three years with the Tengu, Kirin knew how empathic Mozu was towards others around him. His introspective nature was merely a defense against feelings that Mozu was too inexperienced to deal with. "You know you tell me anything. Listening to one's students is part of being a teacher."

"Goro says --" Mozu blurted out, "he says I should leave her alone and she'll come out of it on her own but I don't think so. She doesn't eat unless someone makes her and she just sits there in the corner of the supply hut. Half the time she doesn't know I exist and the other half she holds me so tight that I can't breathe." He paused to take a breath. "It's been nearly a month, sensei. How long is Miza going to be this way?"

"Grief is a personal thing," Kirin answered slowly. "It is a pain that wounds you deep inside." He thumped his own chest with his fingers. "It is a hurt that for some people will never go away." A shadow fell over his eyes. "I know this all too well."

"Everyone is so sad," Mozu commented. "We were all so happy and now—" He spread his hands. "It's like we will never be happy again."

"It will take a long time but things will get back to normal."

"I don't know. O-tama and Bana and Kiyo -- they're still sad but they're not acting like Miza. They have their mates with them all the time." Mozu sighed unhappily. "Goro went to the clayworks after he buried the baby. He hasn't talked to Miza since. It's not right!"

Kirin blinked. It was rare to hear Mozu speak of his birth father, much less criticize him. Miza doted on Mozu but Goro seldom acknowledged him. That in itself was not uncommon; gargoyles raised their young communally but adults often recognized their own offspring subtly by giving them extra attention or praise. Goro never did and Kirin was certain that it hurt Mozu deeply. "Are you sure? He may be grieving in his own way."

"I had to go down to the clayworks to even speak to him," Mozu snorted derisively. "Every time I tried to talk about Miza, he would do something noisy to drown me out. Finally he told me that I was annoying him and to go away."

"I see." This news left a bad taste in Kirin's mouth. "Perhaps I should talk to Goro myself. He has upset you and I cannot have my students upset." He chucked Mozu under the chin. "In the meanwhile, I think that your mother will benefit by your company. She loves you and she needs you now more than ever."

Mozu gave him the first real smile that Kirin had seen in a week and bounced up from the cushions. "I will, sensei! Thank you!" He hurried off with a spring in his step that had not been there before.

While he tidied the schoolroom, Kirin considered his options. Goro was unusually reserved even by Japanese standards. It was entirely possible that withdrawing from everyone including his mate was simply Goro's way of dealing with emotional stress. He would have to tread carefully.

The clayworks were several miles away from the main Tengu encampment, along the river that twisted its way through the Rokko Mountains. On one of the southern slopes, the river expanded to a wide basin, slick with mossy grey clay. Goro had constructed his own kiln in a small ravine nearby, difficult to get to by foot but easy enough to access by wing. He was stripped down to a mud-stained loincloth as he worked his kick wheel, spinning a large lump of clay into a tall jug. His dark hair kept back from his face with a checkered headband, red-skinned Goro spared him a glance as Kirin touched down.

"Good to see you out of the classroom," he grunted, his great curling tusks slurring his words slightly as he took a length of waxed cord and excised the pot from the throwing stone. "I don't know how you can stay cooped up in there."

"I enjoy the quiet," Kirin replied, "and the company is good."

Transferring the greenware pot to a thin piece of wood, Goro moved it to a drying rack. He had roofed a section of the narrow ravine walls and camouflaged it so it was hidden from casual view. When he came back out, Goro commented, "So the little bird has been singing, has he?"

It did not surprise Kirin that Goro would make the connection between his arrival and Mozu's recent visit to the clayworks. Behind his burly exterior, Goro had proven to have a considerable intellect, a talent most evident during the long winters when the clan amused themselves with games. Goro had proved to be a capable strategist in shogi and go and Kirin had found him a challenging opponent.

"It is only natural for Mozu to be worried about Miza," Kirin said simply. "He is a very sensitive and caring child."

"Hmmph." Goro plunged his arms into a bucket of water and began to scrub the clay from them. "She coddles him too much."

"A kind word and a gentle touch is sometimes all one needs." Kirin watched Goro out of the corner of his eye. "Miza could use that from you right now. I understand that you two haven't spoken since the burial."

"What is done cannot be undone," Goro said simply. "I dug five graves in a week, Kirin-san. I laid those babies to rest beneath Tengu Rock with these hands." He held them out, still dripping from the wash bucket. "No matter what I do, they will never come clean! How can I speak to her when I cannot come to terms with this?" Unsettled by his uncharacteristic display of emotion, Goro took up the bucket and stalked off to the river.

Kirin followed, stopping in the graveled shallows. The cool water rippled over his hoof-like feet and plastered the fur to his legs. "How can you not talk to her?" he challenged. "Who better to understand how she is feeling?"

Wading out into the current, Goro shook his head. "Talking to females has never been easy for me." He ducked down under the water for a few seconds to rinse the last of the clay from his body. "Even with Miza, I --" he wiped away the river water from his eyes, " -- I never even courted her, did you know that? They matched us up when we were no older than the Three."

"She speaks of you with much affection."

"Of course," Goro snorted, striding from the water. "I never said that Miza and I were not fond of each other."

"Then what?" Kirin persisted. "Why will you not help her? She is your mate!"

Goro gave him a curious stare before speaking. "I do my duty to the clan as it is needed," he stated flatly. "What Miza needs most, I cannot give her." He went back into his makeshift studio, returning with a drying cloth and fresh clothes. Unwinding the wet fundoshi, he tossed it aside, unconcerned about his nudity as he took his time in dressing.

Kirin politely averted his eyes. "And what would that be?"

"I am not capable of giving her the kind of affection that she deserves." When Kirin glanced his way, Goro merely shrugged. "I have tried to please Miza the best that I can but it is simply not in my nature. I have other preferences."

Uncertain how to respond, Kirin was mulling over this comment when Goro continued, "Miza has liked you from the beginning. She would find your advances much more agreeable than mine." He gave a snorting chuckle. "Kami knows you're better-looking -- Miza and I both agreed on that. Whenever you let her comb your hair, she's happy as a lark for hours."

"Bah! It's no thrill for me -- I always feel like a horse being groomed," Kirin retorted. "By all rights, I should paw the ground and whinny."

"Still, Miza is happy when she is with you." Goro pulled on a faded yukata. "If you wanted to spend time with her, I would have no objections."

Kirin stared at him blankly. "What are you saying--?"

"Mozu was right about one thing," Goro commented, not meeting Kirin's eyes. "Miza needs to feel alive again. The last time we spoke, we said many hurtful things. I would only remind her of them. You, on the other hand, would please her and that would please me."

Goro's enigmatic comment puzzled Kirin for the remainder of the night. The implication was that Goro knew full well about the tryst in the bathhouse. What baffled Kirin was Goro's attitude about it; in Ishimura, Kirin would have been challenged to a duel but Goro actually seemed to approve of Kirin's indiscretion with his mate. It was one thing to indulge in such conduct during an open mating flight but it was generally disapproved of otherwise. They returned to the village together for the evening meal and acted as if their conversation had not happened.

The mood was subdued among the other males. By and large, the Tengu males had bore the loss of the rookery stoically, throwing themselves into insignificant tasks in order to distance themselves from the grieving females. Doryo and Takamatsu lingered behind in the company of their fellow elders while Makino wandered outside with Goro and Kirin. The big spiked gargoyle had been hard hit by the tragedy and had not left his mate's side until recently.

"How is Kiyo?" Kirin asked to fill the awkward pause as they left the meeting hall.

"She's much better, thank you," Makino replied. "She didn't want to do anything for the longest time but after I burned rice in one of her best pots, she decided that she needed to rescue the kitchen from me." His rolling laugh sounded strange after such of long period of mourning. "It's a pity that Miza is still sad." He eyed Goro carefully. "Kiyo misses her touch with the baking."

Goro merely shrugged and pulled a folded section of newspaper from his tunic. "I forgot to show you this, Kirin-san," he said, holding it out. "I saw someone toss it out of their car window yesterday. I was going to use it for kindling but then I saw the picture of the baseball player." He tapped on the printing next to the photo. "I do not know all the words but this is a game schedule, neh?"

"Let me see," Kirin murmured. He scanned the lines of tight Japanese pictographs. "Yes, this is the sports page. It's not a schedule but---" He raised his bushy eyebrows and whistled. "The Yomiuri Giants from Tokyo are playing in Osaka tomorrow!"

"Against the Buffalos?" Makino asked wistfully. "Is that a good match?"

Goro rolled his eyes and smacked his hand playfully against Makino's chest. "It will be a most outstanding game, my friend! These teams seldom play each other save in the playoffs." He nodded at the other two males. "I say we take the Three and make a night of it."

"What?" Kirin asked incredulously. Goro rarely included the hatchlings in anything.

Makino was looking at Goro strangely as well. "What is this? Are you ill, brother?"

"You heard Doryo and the other elders complaining at dinner. The Three have been sneaking off to play pranks since the females have been so distracted lately." Goro gestured towards Kirin. "Their poor teacher can't be everywhere at once. He hasn't had a moment to himself in over a month."

"I suppose that is true," Makino mused. "The trout are running up in the high streams. Last year at this time, Kirin-san, we only saw you when your catch basket was full."

Glancing wistfully up to the northeast, Kirin realized that Makino was right. He had learned to fish in Ishimura when he was still in the rookery and it remained one of his favorite pastimes. In the early spring, he'd taken the Three up the coast from Kobe to fish for salmon but their hijinks kept him from catching as much as he normally would have. "It's probably too late," he said unconvincing reluctance. "All the best spots have probably been taken."

"You know, Miza had a secret place that she used to go to," Goro commented. "Do you remember, Makino, when she was a girl, she would sneak off and come back with baskets of fish?"

"Yes, I do!" Makino said enthusiastically. "Beautiful brown speckled trout!" He laughed. "We could never get her to tell us where she went but we were always glad at dinnertime. Delicious!"

"You should go talk to Miza," Goro told Kirin. "See if she'll show you a good spot to fish."

Makino nodded. "That might just do the trick – anything to get Miza out and about again. You should try it!"

Narrowing his eyes, Kirin glared at Goro but the boar-tusked gargoyle had an inscrutable expression on his face that gave away nothing. Kirin felt he was a game piece being shuffled into place on a shogi board. "Fine," he huffed, "but I won't promise anything."

The Three greeted the news about a night out at the ballpark with an explosion of boyish enthusiasm. Takakura and Tancho were all set to roost at the stadium but Goro and Makino firmly squashed that idea. They settled instead for taking the hatchlings to a roosting spot farther to the east, in the mountains outside of Osaka. Makino began to shepherd them away so they could prepare for the trip but Mozu followed Kirin into the schoolroom instead.

"Go on, Mozu," Kirin said, gesturing to the others. "Makino wants to pack some food to take with you. If you don't get in there soon, your brothers will get all the good bits for themselves."

Mozu glanced over his shoulder. "You talked to Goro!" His beaked face lit up. "You did, didn't you?"

"Of course," Kirin replied quietly. "I said that I would." He smiled back. "I think when you get back, things will be much better."

"But, sensei," Mozu said earnestly, "why won't you come with us? Baseball is fun!"

"I have other plans," he answered. "Don't worry about me, Mozu. Go enjoy your outing."

"Hey!" Takakura bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Featherhead! Hurry up!"

Kirin waved Mozu off, waiting until the small hatchling scampered off after the others before retrieving his fishing gear from the storage space between the floorboards. It was one of the few things that he had taken with him from Ishimura. Thanks to his unusual appearance, Kirin was one of the few Ishimurans that knew who his parents were. Most of his fishing gear had previously belonged to his father, a tall, green-skinned gargoyle with a crown of horns, who worked alongside humans in the fishing fleet.

As he laid out the coiled line, barbed hooks and fishing spears, Kirin remembered the many nights that his father would single him out of his rookery and would take him out to fish in the coastal pools and inland waters. He pulled the privacy screen out from the wall and spread his seine net out over it. His mother's clever fingers had woven it for him as a gift when he'd first been allowed to go out fishing with the other males. Kirin smiled to himself – it was one of the few good memories he had of Ishimura. Both of his parents had been so proud to see their gangly son being singled out for an adult's duty, even if he was still attending lessons with the rest of his siblings.

Less than a year later, a typhoon sank his father's fishing boat and grief took his mother soon afterwards but Kirin cherished the memories of the time that they had spent together. It was, he reflected as he repaired a loose knot, one of the few things that had given him strength during his wandering years. He wondered what it would take to give Miza the strength to get past her grief. It was altogether too tempting to seduce her as Goro suggested and he had an uneasy feeling that it would cause more problems than it would solve.

His fingers brushed the walnut-sized carved bead at the end of the row. Kirin turned it over and looked at it fondly. It was a tiny image of Jizo, a guardian deity that looked over children. His mother had served many years as a miko or shrine maiden before his father had courted her and it was her habit to slip these little good luck charms into anything that she made for her son. To invoke Jizo was to invite Buddha to watch over one's child and keep them from harm, both on earth and in heaven. He lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully and cast his gaze towards the village as the germ of an idea began to take shape.

While the sky was still purpling on the horizon, Kirin put his plan into action. He strode down the hill to the clearing and intercepted Miza before she could retreat into the storeroom. Mozu had not been exaggerating; Miza was faded like a shadow cast by candlelight. Her eyes were dull like tarnished gold coins as she turned her head to look at him.

"Miza-san," Kirin murmured. "What has happened to you?"

She shrugged. "It is nothing."

"No, it is not." When she started to walk away, Kirin hitched his fishing gear more securely over his shoulder and scooped her up like an armload of kindling. "No wonder Mozu has been worried. You've been wasting away."

"Put me down!" Miza struck at his chest with her fists in a futile gesture but she had no strength to struggle.

"Kirin-san?" O-tama came up besides them. "What are you doing?" Even though she still had moments of profound sadness, her duties as healer had helped O-tama overcome her own grief. She narrowed her eyes speculatively at the tall Ishimuran gargoyle.

"Miza needs a change in scenery," Kirin replied. "Goro suggested that I take her fishing."

The Tengu healer raised both of her brow ridges up like an owl. She knew how distraught Kirin had been after the last time that he had been alone with Miza. "I see," she said simply. "You will take care of her, neh? Miza has not been out in a long time."

"We will be fine," Kirin said as he strode off towards the edge of the nearby gorge. They were airborne and sailing northeast over the mountains before Miza spoke again.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a broken voice. "We're not really going fishing, are we?"

"Eventually." Kirin shifted, canting into the wind. "We have a stop to make first."

Miza shook her head weakly. "I didn't want to go anywhere. Why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons."

Shrines and temples were sprinkled throughout the rolling hills of Kyoto like mushrooms after a warm spring rain. Kirin glided over several until he came upon a cluster of small stone figures half-hidden in a shallow grotto near a hot springs resort. There were lights on at the hotel but the sounds of a boisterous party covered any noise that their landing might have made.

"Where are we?" Miza hissed, tugging at his arm. "Kirin-san! There are people here!"

"They're well into their sake barrels if I'm any judge," Kirin replied mildly. "There's something I'd like to show you." He led her into the grotto. It was quiet and damp with only the sound of water dripping down the stone wall behind the shrine. There was a row of six identical statues, all images of a bald Buddhist monk with a rounded face and holding a staff with six brass rings attached to it in one hand and a celestial jewel in the other.

"He seems like a child," Miza observed in a hushed voice, curious in spite of herself.

"This is Jizo," Kirin said as he stepped up to the shrine. "He watches travelers on their paths and guards the souls of children." He picked up a bamboo ladle and dipped it in the spring-fed pool that flowed around the base of the statues. Chanting under his breath, he bowed to the first statue and poured a dipperful of water over its granite head.

Miza watched as he repeated the gesture on the next statue and then the next before speaking. "What are you doing?"

Continuing to ladle water over the statues, Kirin murmured, "I'm performing the rite of mizuko kuyo. It's a memorial service for infants that have died -- pouring water over the statue symbolizes the essence of the child returning back to the water of life." He gestured to a cluster of tall scarlet poppies growing in a nearby flower bed. "It is customary to leave something red as an offering to ensure Jizo's goodwill. Will you pick some of those, in memory of our lost rookery?" He watched her stiffen out of the corner of his eye but she shook it off and did his bidding.

They worked together in silence until Kirin was finished. He knelt before the shrine and bowed to the statues with his fingertips pressed together in reverence. After a few seconds of hesitation, Miza joined him. The grotto sank into a well of silence as they both became lost in silence. As he chanted the mantra of the Lotus Sutra to himself, Kirin let his mind wander. He knew he should be feeling sad over the dead Tengu rookery but more and more his thoughts had been dwelling on the fatherless hatchling in Ishimura. He'd caught himself lurking around campsites looking for another opportunity to steal a cell phone so he could call Kai again but each time he managed to talk himself out of it. Ikeike would never let him near the child. He gave a long huffing sigh.

There was a sense of wonder in Miza's voice. "It is a strange thing," she observed, "but I find this very comforting. How did you know about this, Kirin-san?"

"Jizo and I are old companions," he said simply. "His shrines are all over Japan. He travels to wherever there are people who are unable to free themselves from unhappiness and fear." He glanced at her briefly. "I know what it is like, you see, to be trapped by grief."

"How could you?" Her eyes were round and glowing with the first spark of emotion that she'd shown in weeks. "It was my hatchling, not yours! I carried it in my body, cared for it in the rookery, and held it as it died in my arms!"

"At least you got to hold your baby, Miza," Kirin retorted without thinking. "I will never have that!"

His words shook Miza out of her self-pity. "What?" she asked as her crest rose slightly. "But we thought -- forgive me, I don't mean to pry -- but we always thought that you had no mate."

"I am ronin." He turned his head away. "What is past is past."

"You… had an egg in Ishimura?"

"It does not matter," he said gruffly. "It will never know me."

Miza leaned against his shoulder. They sat there motionless in the little grotto while the sounds of the drunken party came and went in the hot springs spa. Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. "I can't imagine what that must be like," she said simply. "This is why you were upset before, isn't it? In the bathhouse? I said something about mating and it upset you."

Kirin couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth so he merely nodded. "As I told O-tama, it was not your fault. As much as I might wish otherwise, those memories will always be with me." An errant breeze made one of the flowers roll off onto the ground and he reached out to replace it. "Every time I think that I've moved past it, something brings it up again like a knife twisting in my gut." He sighed. "If there's anything I've learned, Miza, it's that you can't let grief rule your life."

"I keep expecting to see her," she blurted out. "I've tried and tried to forget her but I can't."

"Don't," he answered sharply. "Remember the good things about her. Your daughter was a good baby – she never fussed or cried. Do you remember the night that she opened her eyes?"

"Yes," Miza continued, "she had such a serious expression on her face. Mozu was like that when he was a newborn."

"Mozu claims that she smiled at him." Kirin chuckled. "I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was probably gas."

"I think she did smile." The corners of Miza's mouth turned up. "She knew we loved her."

"Then this is a good thing." Raised voices came from the direction of the hotel as the revelers moved their party out into the outdoor pools. Kirin stood swiftly and held out his hand. "Come -- we must go now."

With his help, Miza managed to glide a good distance before she began to tire and Kirin had to carry her again. A silvery snake of a river came into view as they crested the foothills. Spiraling in for a landing, fine gravel crunched under Kirin's feet. He carried Miza to a sheltered nook in a cedar grove overlooking the water.

"This looks to be a promising spot," Miza commented as Kirin began to dig through his knapsack. "I guess we're still going to fish, neh?"

"I certainly plan to," Kirin commented dryly. "We haven't had any decent food in weeks. Kiyo cooks mostly vegetables and Bana's curry curls my hair." He took out a length of fishing line, baited it, and tossed it out towards a promising eddy of rippling circles on the water's surface.

She laughed. "I see you've missed my cooking."

"It is only one of your many talents, Miza-san." He caught a glimpse of her smirk out of the corner of his eye as he was securing his line and felt his ears grow hot. "What?"

"It just occurred to me that this is the first time that we've been alone together since that night," she ventured. "You've always been very careful to keep your distance."

"It was not the sort of situation that I ever expected to find myself in. If my actions offended you, I apologize."

"No, it was my fault for being too forward. O-tama told me that females are more conservative in Ishimura."

"You were not the problem." Kirin shrugged as he sat back down besides her. "The last female I was with was not as kind as you. She made it difficult for me to want to be intimate with anyone ever again."

"Ah." She raised both brow ridges. "She used you poorly then."

"Indeed she did."

"Perhaps I should take advantage of you more often." Miza tilted her head coquettishly and fluttered her lashes. It was the most that she had been like herself in weeks.

"As much as I would enjoy a good pillowing," Kirin admitted, "you are in no shape for it! I would break you in two!" He scowled at her. "You're nothing but bird bones and feathers at the moment."

"Sadly, you are probably right," Miza agreed, sighing as she put her head on her arms. "I would have found it comforting." She looked away listlessly.

Kirin was torn -- he didn't want Miza to sink back into depression now that she was starting to show some signs of life. He weighed her emotional well-being against his own Ishimuran morality and made a choice that he hoped that he would not regret. "I know I certainly found it so," he replied. "Perhaps when your strength is back and you are rested, you will allow me to return the favor."

"Really?" Miza's feathered crest rose as she regarded him with renewed interest.

"I have said so, have I not?" Tentatively, he reached out and caressed the downy feathers on her brow with curled fingers. "I've thought often of that night. It was good to feel wanted again."

She nuzzled his hand. "Then why wait so long to tell me so?"

"Bushido teaches us to respect all things," he explained carefully as he forced himself not to react. "My needs were inconsequential compared to your honor."

"And now?"

"I think your needs are more important than my honor." The fishing line twitched and he checked it out of habit. "Even Goro seemed to think so."

The grass rustled beneath her as Miza sat up in surprise. "Goro? But he --?

" -- is just as worried about you as Mozu is." The line twitched again and Kirin began pulling it towards him in a smooth, even motion. "He arranged to take the Three to the ballgame so I would have my evening free. He says that you two fought and that he's afraid that you wouldn't want to hear anything he'd have to say to you."

"He sent you in his place?"

"Something like that -- a-HA!" Jumping up on his toes, Kirin jerked the line sharply just as a brown speckled trout broke the water. He hooked the line with his wing spur and raised it to keep his prize above the water as he reeled it in. "What a beauty!"

"Oh, I see where your heart lies!" Miza chuckled. "I think I'm going to be jealous of a fish!"

"Only until after dinner," Kirin shot back. "I'm sure you can think of a suitable dessert."

"In that case, the sooner we eat my rival for your affections the better!"

Her pert retort was encouraging as Miza began to take an interest in her surroundings and began to gather the fallen twigs and branches around her for a cooking fire. Kirin smirked to himself as he re-baited the hook and prepared to try again.

To be continued in Part IV of "Ronin" …..