His first task was his morning prayers, and a shower(he decided that even if others didn't think he stunk, he did). While allowing the water to come to temperature, he decided to take stock of himself. His frame was falling a bit, since he was about two weeks late getting to the gym, "Gotta see if I can find a trainer around here that speaks English..." he thought. Going further, he saw that it was time to break out the lotion; several of the scars on his body were dry enough to start cracking. "Gotta take care of that, too." All in all, he thought that he was still in pretty good shape, scars notwithstanding. "At least my hammer is still in good standing." he thought with a laugh.

After his morning ritual was taken care of, he began his walk. Taking time to greet those that would acknowledge him; most were still trying to deny their lack of existence. He talked when he had the chance, finding that most had some knowledge of Tsu and his work locally. He even got more info on how he got into his position as the Head of Law. Taking all of the info he could get(good and bad, even the trivial wasn't out of his grasp) he found his morning most informative. Looking up to see where he had ended his fact finding, he saw that he was at the gates of a Buddhist temple. Bowing and saying a small prayer, he entered the gates, to see what he could see.

For some reason, at the top of the stairs his first thought was of the Cheshire cat, "We're all a bit mad here...". He had no idea why, but thought that the fact may really mean something. Looking around, the temple seemed in order but something was still..."Wrong. Not bad, not dark...just...wrong. Wrong as a mother fucker." Drake pushed his power into as small a ball as he could, trying to dilute his presence among the essential purity of his surroundings. He took detailed stock of the area, hoping to find what caught his attention as fast as he could, but it didn't seem localized. That is what struck him so badly; in a place of priests, there was...something. Stopping the first person he could, he got the attention of who he attributed to be an acolyte; a priest in training, so to speak.

"Pardon me, but can you tell me where I would find your Headman? I find my matter more...urgent...than I would have first believed."

"I am very sorry, but he is ill right now, and isn't welcoming of visitors. I will ask if he would see you, if you would be willing to wait."

Drake said that he would wait a century if he had to.

"Damnú air! If I'm right, the old man is fine, he is just having trouble with whatever it is that I'm sensing! I hope that he is fluent in English..."

Almost an hour later the young man came back with a very old looking man at his elbow. The old man then rattled something off in Japanese, and the boy translated.

"Honorable Grandfather would like you to remove your shirt, if you would please."

Drake did as he was asked, and crouched on his knees, placing his hands upon them as was customary when dealing with such as the Headman.

Bright recognition hit the old man when he saw the tattoo's on Drake. Again he rattled something off in Japanese.

"Honorable Grandfather says that he knew you were coming, that Buddha showed you to him. He says that you can only be one man."

"I wonder, ask him why Buddha revealed one like myself to your Headman."

The boy again translated, and took what the old man said with a look of dire gravity.

"Honorable Grandfather says that he doesn't ask why he is shown what he is; he just remembers it as it comes. He says that you are Drake Allen Masters, the man known for helping both people and spirits find peace. He asks for your help." As the young man finished, the old priest crouched in the same way as Drake still was, and took one of Drake's hands in both of his own. With a heavy accent, the old man uttered only a few words. "Please, save these grounds." After which he passed out.

The young man was trying to get the old man awake again, when Drake kindly moved him. Gathering the Headman in his arms he asked the young man where he was roomed at. Taking the lead, he motioned for Drake to follow, which he did without hesitation. He soon found himself in the heart of the Temple, surrounded by the faces of a good many men and boys, all training in different ways. The thing that caught his eye and took a firm hold was a single young man, only a few years older than his little sister, ringing a great bell every time he pushed his hands forward...without ever touching the bell. Realizing that what he saw was a man with control of his chakra in a way that Drake could only hope to achieve made him wonder if he should stay and train.

His guide came back and took Drake by the arm with a word of apology and said, "If you can do what Honorable Grandfather wants, I will personally translate for you and Shou to spend a day together talking and training. Deal?" Feeling that he had just had his own thoughts seen, Drake told him that he would do so, gladly. Shortly after, the young man stopped in front of a door, and announced that they were at their destination. Opening the door, he showed Drake a room that was bare save for a bed, personal shrine and a small writing table. After laying the Headman on the bed, Drake put his shirt back on and began to take stock of the room. Somewhere within, Drake could "hear" that there was a hidden room in the stone. The pure, untainted chakra that filled the lower reaches of the Temple made Drake feel more powerful than he ever had; taking a breath he found that the power was palpable, because it tasted like his mothers cookies. "Mental assignment. Giving physicality to a non-physical force." Knowing that he was simply giving himself a way to grip what he couldn't normally, he let the power do what it was meant to: fill him up and boost him out. Taking another deep breath, Drake knew that his aura was solidifying, simply because the sheer amount of power he was taking in with every breath was spilling free.

Pushing his mind out he found the doorway hidden behind the Headman's shrine. With a quick prayer and apology, he slid it from the wall and went through the revealed passage. The way was dark, but Drake's mind was never hindered; he used it like a radar, following the sharp curves as he found them. He could feel what lay before him, and knew that a fight was coming; instead of waiting to see his opponent as he usually did, he gathered his power and armed himself. "Steel Fists." he muttered. Instantly, his hands were drowned in both his own power, and the raw chakra that filled the area making them both a spiritual weapon and a physical one. He favored this technique for fighting, simply because he hated weapons beyond those given to him by God. As he did before every fight, he began to mutter his modified version of Roland's Gunslinger mantra from the Dark Tower series. His was widely different, but it meant the same thing.

"I don't aim by sight, I aim by feel; my eyes deceive the truth. No attack comes from a weapon, I am the only weapon; others may fail. I will never end a life, darkness is my target; a killer is the darkness I fight. I am one man, I will do what I can with what I was given. I thank you God for the abilities you gave me and their use to protect those weaker than myself, which I will do until my life is ended, Amen."

At his finish, his target called to him in a voice that he hadn't heard for many years. "Will you kill me again, Drake?"

Drake stopped dead in his tracks, his power slipping. "Maura? But, you were-"

"Buried back home? Yes, Drake I was. Do you remember why?"

"No-"

"But you do."

"No. I-"

"You do!"

"No! I- it wasn't my fault!"

"You lashed out in anger-"

"I loved you!"

"You said it was my fault!"

"It was!"

"How can I be blamed for it?"

"You could've fought!"

"Two men and a gun? Do you really think that they wouldn't have killed me had I fought?"

"You-you-"

"You killed me."

With that single phrase, Drake's slipping power surged beyond his normal range, fueled by grief, sorrow, anger and more.

"NO! I saved you from them that night! You thanked me for it! How was I to know that he would still get a shot off!"

The demon that had stolen his lover's voice was forced into a fightable form as Drake continued to yell, forcing it by the very truth it tried to distort.

"You thanked me for saving you, and you kissed me! I was shot that night, too! The bullet that killed you nearly took my life as well! AND YOU APOLOGIZED FOR IT!"

With tears unknown coursing down his cheeks, he threw himself at the demon, crushing it again and again under the force of his Steel Fists. With every landed blow, more and more of the shaded dark that was seeping through the Temple faded. With the final blow, the Headman awoke, and the demon was banished.

"You said that it was you fault, and I took the blame from you for being late. It will always be...my fault." As his power and emotion faded, Drake slipped from consciousness.