Hello to all. I haven't been visible lately because of two things: clerkship (OJT, not good for imagination), and an offer to write my own book.

This is my response to the reviewers who were asking for more (even if they MUST have read the start or end notes that Lost Prince was a oneshot!). Dedicated to all of you: Samuraiko, junyortrakr, Matsuo Michiyo, darkestbeforedawn, Calreflector, narrizan, darksaphire, Ayumi-hime, and Reiya. S7 ain't mine, never will be, although I'd like to keep Heihachi if I could. This is just me taking a break. Very short, but it's not meant to be long anyway.

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No luck. I had to walk to Kougakyo. Two days, it took me, and I only had two rice balls to live on while getting there. I had mastered all the sounds my stomach could make, and all the aches my leg muscles could possibly have. So could you blame me if the first thing I did when I got to Kougakyo was take a nice, long nap?

Wasn't taking a nap in the open, in a large city, rather dangerous, you say? Sure, it was! That's why I carried almost no money on me. My tools were in a satchel I always had in front of me, and they were all metal things that clanged when they hit each other, and I had learned to be a light sleeper while I was in the military. No problem. I just earned what I needed to live on at each city and town I was in.

Kougakyo as a city was calm enough, but it was rather tough for a newcomer. While there were not as many as in other darker places, the city had its share of thieves, robbers, and killers. And there were already a lot of wanderers and masterless samurai without me adding to the number.

It was not as easy to get quick jobs, with all the competition. Many of the shops already had someone helping clean the kitchen or chop the wood. I was running out of sunlight and options.

I had resigned myself to spending the night on an empty stomach when I saw a well-dressed young man walk by. His greenish-black hair was tied in a topknot over his head. His top coat was royal blue with gold buttons. The young man was probably walking home to a large mansion, with a lot of wood that needed chopping. I jumped up and ran to the princely young man.

"Excuse me, young sir," I asked. "Would your establishment need someone to chop wood for them?"

"Establishment? What do you mean?" the young man looked at me, with some disdain. I must admit that I did look rather shabby and dusty.

I bowed. "I'm sorry. I'm a wanderer, and I need to earn money. Does your house need someone to chop wood for tonight?"

"My house? MY house?" the young man began to chuckle bitterly. "I do not have a house, either, good sir."

"No way." I looked at him from head to foot. He was too clean and too well-brushed. It was impossible. "You're ronin, too?"

"Do NOT call me by that despicable title, you…you…poor swordsman!" he glared at me and shouted. "I am a samurai, and I am not some lowly begging wanderer!"

I have been called that, and I have called myself that, for a few years, so the hurt that came with being a ronin had pretty much gone. But the way this, this, disrespectful and arrogant youngster said it… "Words like that can get you killed, young sir," I smiled as icy as smile as I could give him.

"I'm not scared of someone like you," he replied, and placed a hand on his sword.

"I don't want a fight, sir," I said. "I'm just saying, if you really are a wandering samurai, that you should not stand out like a sore thumb. Insulting others will get you killed very quickly!"

"I have nothing to go back to, so what is it to you if I get killed?" he kept his hand on the sword.

"You're too young and too handsome to get killed," I grinned, and started to walk away, not wanting to argue on an empty stomach. "OH, yes, one last thing. Don't flaunt your money so openly, young sir," I told him. "In the big cities it is more than easy for large amounts of money or food to be stolen, before you even know what hit you."

"I know how to take care of my money," he snarled. "No one has stolen from me yet."

"Don't be so sure, all the same, young sir," I said. "Take it from someone who's been there."

We weren't done talking when a flash of color sped by, and I heard the slight clinking of metal. The princely young man in front of me looked around, then felt his pockets, and desperately looked around again. He started running. "GIVE ME BACK MY MONEY!"

Oh, well, I warned him. I started jogging after him. Come on. I was still VERY hungry. And the tools did have some weight to them. Give me a break.

The boy was a fast runner, I will grant him that, and he managed to catch up to the thief after two blocks. But he had been surrounded by other thieves and people I would not want to be with in a dark alley. A kickfest and punchfest had already begun, and the princely boy's hair was pulled from the topknot.

I took out a few screws I could part with, and threw them at the lowlifes. The boy got his opening and ran to where I was, limping and panting. I took off my hat, and bowed to the thugs. "Gentlemen, I would prefer it if you did business with me instead."

The young man hissed, nervously. "Are you sure about this?"

It was not a part of me I wanted to show a lot, but I did take out my katana, still in the sheath. "Young sir, stay behind me."

"Why?"

"Just do it!" I said.

Finally the young man stood behind me, his back to mine, his own sword drawn out.

I kept the katana in the sheath (humans…I don't kill humans unless I had to save my life), and charged. They were lowlifes, easy to deal with a few swipes in the right places, on the stomach and across the knees. A few jumps, me knocking them out at the heads, and that was that. Everybody was on the ground.

To the boy's credit, he did manage to keep his ground and not get any more scratches on him, just blocking sword strikes. He was quite good, surely better than me. He just didn't have the actual experience to deal with lowlifes.

From one of the men on the ground, he took up his small money pouch, placing it back inside his clothes. He spat out the blood in his mouth, and stood in front of me. He looked away, his face red with shame. "Thank you."

"I help anyone who needs it," I said and rubbed my nose. I bowed to him. "Be careful, o-samurai-sama."

He bowed to me, and walked on to the markets. I walked in the other direction, to where the food stalls were. The chances were better that the teahouses would need someone to chop the wood for the evening. I guessed the boy would be alright, even if he did have fancy clothes on. He would protect those clothes with his life if he had to. He was as proud, if not as tough, as the best samurai I have met in my life. Someone would have to kill him before he parted with his last source of good money.

That was when I realized.

I think I just ran into the boy in the story, the lost prince.

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I just got fansubs of S7 and got to see again the first ep, where Katsu told the farmers not to carry so much rice around so openly. I pondered that such wise advise from a rich kid must have been learned from somewhere, the hard way, hence this little thing.

I will not make promises about another chapter (as it is, Staff and Sword is still pending). But I hope you liked this.