Disclaimer: Peacemaker is the property of Nanae Chrono, and not the fairies.

CHAPTER FOUR

"Hey! Hey you!"

Kichisaburo's annoyed voice echoed across the stretching fields, answered only by the shrill caws of crows and the gentle rustling of wheat. The blue powdered skies were cloudless and it seemed as though nothing today could hide the blinding sun. The heat itself was unbearable, and Kichisaburo was in a decisively bad mood.

A figure stood idly by in the middle of the wheat, looking as though he were admiring the barren scenery, oblivious to the shouts of a swordless vagabond bearing angry blisters.

"Hey, why won't you look over here you retard!"

This was not the time to be courteous, Kichisaburo thought, looking incensed as he waved his arm, ignoring the strain since it seemed he had finally found civilisation. "Thank Kami anyway," he muttered, sweeping back his fringe as he trudged towards his target. "Finally, someone to possibly rob and kill."

Pausing to take a deep breath, Kichisaburo glanced around before allowing his tired legs to buckle beneath him. Then began to crawl towards the outstretched figure, for he was far too tired now to walk. Finally, he came to a halt.

Curious, he glanced up to find himself face to face with a weatherbeaten pole. His gaze slowly continued upwards and he found that the wooden pole happened to be covered by an indigo kimono--and then---"Kuso!"

Kichisaburo swore loudly as he got to his feet.

The figure with the outstretched arms hadn't been a man at all! In fact, he wasn't even human. He'd been a scarecrow, with a pitiful excuse for a painted face. Kichisaburo leaned against the stuffed body of hay, looking tired, embarrassed and defeated.

"I really need to eat," he uttered miserably as his vision swayed. "But if there's a scarecrow here, then than there has to be a house..."

Kichisaburo studied the worn out thing, looking suddenly thoughtful. "That's actually a really nice kimono you've got there Scarecrow-san," he said smoothly, hands on hips. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if we exchange. After all, you're the one with the ugly face. Things like that can't be helped, ne?"

Letting out a derisive snort, he began peeling off his own tattered yukata. Neatly folding his obi at the base of the scarecrow, and relishing the warmth of the sun on his pale skin, Kichisaburo started to tug on the scarecrow's clothing.

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Sipping at her sake and looking around with an irritable expression on her sagging face, old lady Hisako rolled her tiny eyes as she surveyed the interior of her house. It was time for her to start cleaning, and that was never easy, nor enjoyable.

Finally putting down her cup, Hisako stood up rather heavily, on account of her growing obesity.

Straightening the edge of her hakama, she hobbled towards the window and peered out at her glorious fields of wheat and produce, although she was certainly exaggerating the glorious part. The seasons had not been kind to her lately, and with each day her irritation grew.

"Maybe if that baka hadn't run off..." she muttered angrily, referring to the son she blamed on a regular basis for all her bad luck, "I wouldn't be in that state I am now."

Reaching for her cup again, she was about to down more of the blissful clear drink, when something out in the fields caught her attention. Slowly putting the drink down, she pushed back the tattered curtains and squinted in the direction of her scarecrow.

Her brow furrowed, adding more lines to her already lined face.

"What in the worlds..."

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"Get off me, you damn birds!" Kichisaburo hollered, waving his arms over his head in a futile attempt to ward them off.

It was so irritating! Just a moment before, he could have sworn there were no crows near the place. Nor any other living thing. But as soon as he had pulled the kimono half way off, revealing the hay--there they were.

When finally they gave up and flew away, he pulled off the yukata with such determination he nearly caused himself to fall over. As he ran his hands over the fabric, a faint yelling invaded his hearing. A look of relief came over him. Finally, a voice! Kichisaburo couldn't remember ever feeling so happy at hearing a man's voice.

Then he realised the voice sounded extremely angry, and the man was brandishing something of a weapon. Patiently, he waited for the very chubby stranger to come closer. Out of instinct, a hand reached up to smooth his hair.

"You filthy beggar!" screamed the approaching man, swinging the sword drunkenly. "Gerroff my property!"

Why, I never...thought Kichisaburo, indignant. A...beggar...!

He'd been called many things in his life, but a beggar was definitely not one of them.As the stranger came closer, and some of the bulges became more apparent, Kichisaburo was shocked to realise 'he' was actually a 'she', and almost got hit as she swung what looked like a sheath at him.

Kichisaburo ducked just in time, and the lady fell over, almost losing her grip on the katana. "Right!" she said heatedly, her face bright red as she climbed back up. "I'm going to show you what I do to people who trespass!"

She unsheathed the sword. Kichisaburo grinned.

The sword, surprisingly polished and without any nicks, gleamed beautifully in the sun, and on it's metallic surface, he could see his eyes glint in familiarity.The wind gently rustled the wheat and he smelled the faint scent of blood as if the wind had carried the scent all the way from Kyoto.

"What are you smiling about?"

Hisako felt suspicious, and a little wary as she observed this strange man standing before her in his underwear. Was he a loon? Her eyes drift to the naked scarecrow. Her bad temper increased. "That's my property you've been vandalising! The yukata's mine! Give it back, beggar!"

Kichisaburo stared at the lady then at the kimono in his hands, the soft fabric a comfort to the blisters on his palms. "Nope, it's mine!" he answered in a childish voice, hugging it close to his chest. As he anticipated, the comment only made the old woman angrier.

With a loud yell, she charged forward with a parallel thrust, intended for Kichisaburo's chest. He looked bored.

Honestly, this old hag is just asking for it. She looks half dead already, it's probably best I take her out of her misery. Being the gentleman that I am.

In one swift movement, he deftly moved aside, and grabbing the sword from her hands, slashed her across the shoulder. Hisako looked stunned as the blood spurted out from the gaping wound. "You..you actually..." she croaked, looking more surprised than pained. Before she could finish her sentence, Hisako crumpled in a heap on the ground.

"That was nice," sighed Kichisaburo, wiping the blood from his face. "Even if you were a woman. Nothing beats a good kill..." The familiar heaviness in his hands was soothing to him. He felt powerful, like he was in control again. There was no feeling helpless with a sword in your hands...

He whistled as he wrapped the scarecrow's kimono around him. As he dressed, he squinted hard in the direction that the woman had come from.

There's the house! he thought excitedly. How could I have missed it before!

After having a good meal, and maybe a long bath, he would start walking again. He was sure he was near a village now, there was no way the old lady would live out here in the middle of nowhere. "I'm going to have to bury the body too," he muttered as he finished tying his obi. "But all in all..." He smirked. "This has been a reallly productive day."

Clothing and a sword. Kichisaburo turned to pick the weapon up from the ground.

Then, just as his fingers reached the hilt, a gasp startled him.

Surprised, he realised the lady was still alive, her face turned towards him, her eyes questioning as they bore right through him.

"Why?" she whispered, her life rapidly fading.

Kichisaburo froze.

His vision blurred and unsteadily, he raised a hand to his head.

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"Why?"

Kaiyoumi blinks.

She is not only startled by the question, but by the seriousness in his voice. The way he has suddenly changed from bumbling to world weary. In an instant. She blinks rapidly, lowering her sooty eyelashes. So he has answered her question with one of his own. She should have known.

Since when have questions been properly answered in this veiled world? Her gaze trails across the stacked piles of ink spattered documents, past the slim pipe resting between his stained fingers, above the curling cloud of smoke, and settles on the window sill.

The cherry trees are obscured by a curtain of grey mist, and their sweet fragrance mingles with the stale stench of opium and tobacco.

"Kaiyoumi?"

His voice tries to evade the empty core of her thoughts. Kaiyoumi sighs softly and watches a sparrow flit through the pink blossoms, before settling on a spindly branch. Then the branch shakes and in a flurry of pale petals, it is gone. For some reason, she feels a pang unlike any other.

"Kaiyoumi!"

His voice is not harsh, but laced with a certain concern attained only after knowing the real truth behind closed shutters. He stares at her, half bent as he stands over his cluttered desk, fingers pressing against the varnished wood. A sigh escapes his slightly rouged lips. "What are you thinking?"

She forces a polished smile. A practised routine of perfection. His respondent tone bothers her. In this realm empathy has been cruelly stripped of all meaning. So why this concern?

"Thinking? Don't be silly Chubei, since when do we need to think? We just drift with the current, that's what we do." Kaiyoumi flourishes her palm, from beneath a silken sleeve, slender fingers poised gracefully in midair.

Chubei chuckles as her gesture is one that is often exaggerated in his seductive plays.The lines between his forehead cease to exist for a moment, and he sits back down, his gaze less weary than a moment before. "So aren't you going to answer my question?" He leans forward, bushy eyebrows raised, exhaling tendrils of smoke.

Kaiyoumi looks down at the richly furnished carpet and silently wishes she was still standing in the abandoned corridors, in the presence of nothing else but dust.

"But you know, maybe I..."

She hesitantly turns her head, as if to acknowledge the small presence sitting behind her. "Maybe ..." Her speech wavers. She stands up suddenly, the layers of gauzy material rippling like the ocean's waves.The faint whistling of a flute can be heard in the background, perhaps a little girl practising, or perhaps it is just the wind sorrowful to be passing their way.

Chubei finds himself gazing up at her, filled with bittersweet awe at this ethereal creature he has forged, and for a terse moment he feels a startling desire to reach out to her, to lighten the dark void within her, but he finds he cannot.

This must be how the gods feel when they look upon their creations...With more pain then pride.

Or maybe, he is just apprehensive. Afraid that if he touchs her, she will shatter...

"If you want to say no, you can say it," she says suddenly, her expression stoic. "I respect your decisions Chubei. Always." Kaiyoumi turns, and the little boy looks up at her, confused. He wonders why she seems upset. Hesitantly, he glances at the big round man standing before them. Did he make her upset. He doesn't look mean but he...

Chubei catches the boy's gaze for a moment, and grins at him. Quickly, the child turns away. Did the man just breathe smoke? He had been right. The man is a dragon in disguise! He draws the blanket closer around him.

Kaiyoumi smiles, her hair ornaments shimmering in the sun. "Chubei, you've scared him already!" she scolds, eyes twinkling, despite the hurt beneath them.

"He hasn't met Oziki yet," mutters Chubei, barely audible but she hears.

Kaiyoumi claps a hand to her ruby red mouth, giggling. "Well that praying mantis scares just about everyone..." She twists her face, trying to imitate the other headman's sour expression but looks as sweet as ever. Chubei releases a hearty laugh, reminding the little boy of a paper balloon he once saw get pricked. Knowing that their conversation isn't going to end so soon, he makes his way towards the open window. A gust of fresh air greets him.

The little boy rubs his face and inhales deeply. Uncomfortable with an upfront view of cherry trees, he peers down on the dusty vacant streets. As he does so he can't help but remember his grandfather's remark on his departure.

'Your new home is a place of eternal happiness..'

He wonders if his grandfather lied, for he seemed to have passed only sad faces, but then---the little boy scratches his head---old people don't lie...

He strains his eyes trying to look for any sign of life on the dusty lane. He spots a fat tabby and a few dark shadows emerge form the cluster of identical buildings. Although he is quite fond of animals, it is the latter that intrigues him the most. A group of men dressed in dark clothing are leaning on each other for support, clay bottles clutched in their fists. Entranced the little boy watches their strange dance. For some reason, they remind him of crows..

He watches the dusty road swallow the happy crows and inhales the fresh air quite deeply before turning his back on the cherry trees.

Just as he turns he notices the girls hypnotic beads sway.

An indication of her leave. Then he hears her utter two words he has come to dislike... the same words his family had said to him as he was led away by the firefly.

"Goodbye then."

Kaiyoumi turns towards the shoji.

Then she remembers the tiny figure in the room. He hadn't made a sound when she started to leave, but his eyes were wide and scared. At that very moment, she feels a sudden urge to embrace him, but unsure of the boy and Chubei's reaction she doesn't.

Kaiyoumi thinks back to the previous night when she first met the child, and had asked him his name as she helped him out of his hiding place and returned him to the children's rooms. She had not received an answer.

Kaiyoumi had hoped that this morning he would have shown some response, spoken something---anything, to reassure her that he could speak, that he was not mute.

Yet he had continued to glance up at her with those tired old eyes whenever he thought she wouldn't notice, eyes so startling in the face of a child, and she had been grateful that he had not shied away when she came for him.

"Don't worry, you're still coming with me," she says gently, offering him her hand. "I'll take you back, so you don't get lost, alright?"

Kaiyoumi slips her palm into his and they move towards the door.

Chubei watches them moving towards the shoji, feeling torn. Perhaps she was right. Maybe they were all just drifting within an unseen current. But if it brought two people together... He would be a fool to believe nothing happens for a reason. He scratches his bald scalp, he is sure he believes in destiny.

A part of him is saying that he should stay silent.

That he should just let them walk out of his office, and the boy will go back to his quarters, and the girl...well she will be upset for a while, but it is not like Kaiyoumi to dwell on things. Chubei is sure she will forget about it in a week, perhaps even in days... just like the other time... he grimaces and tips the remains of tobacco quite vigorously on his table surface.

But then, he cant argue with his heart. A dull crack echoes around the spacious room. His heart always won. Chubei glances down to find his pipe snapped in half. Maybe oneday he will suffer the consequences...but he isnt one to dwell on the future either.

"And if you were allowed to keep the boy?"

Kaiyoumi comes to a sudden halt. The hopeful glimmer in those eyes of hers made his heart wrench painfully.

Just like that fateful day he found her---dark hair tangled with seaweed, tiny particles of sand clinging to moist skin and the unforgettable scent of salt in her torn garments.

"Well..." Kaiyoumi swallows, heart racing. "Well, I do need an attendant, I think he'd be really helpful, and I...well I," Her voice has turned to a whisper. "I could help him too. Isn't a confident child better than a mute, scared one?"

Chubei is bought out of his musings as he silently regards her earnest words, twirling his fiery red moustache.

He looks the boy over, his presence so weak he seems to blend in with the painted thrushes on the wall. Maybe the girl had a point. After all, in all honesty, the boy is the most beautiful child he has seen since he had found Kaiyoumi...

"Alright."

Kaiyoumi's eyes widen. "You mean...You mean I can have him?" she asks almost breathlessly. She loosens her grip on the shoji's wooden frame. The little boy upon seeing Kaiyoumi move inside, follows gladly.

Chubei chuckles. "Well you can't have him," he says in a teasing voice, content in seeing the hurt in her eyes drift away. "But he can stay with you. Hmmm...I will have to make arrangements first...maybe in a week or two..."

Kaiyoumi's smile wanes. "A week?" she repeats in a disappointed voice. "But Chubei, that's far too long!" Her hands thud against her stiff obi causing a fan to fall out.The little boy jumps and curiously peers at her obi, wondering if anything else is hidden behind the colourful swirls, like candy or maybe a wooden top...He almost giggles. Almost.

Chubei raises an eyebrow. Was that a whine in her voice? He puffs himself up as she bends down to pick up the fan and tuck it back in it's place.

"Now, now, I'm not falling for that look! Not anymore!"

She pouts.

"Alright, alright." He wags his finger at her. "Oziki isn't going to be too happy about this, I'll have you know."

She gives a squeal of delight, clasping her hands together much like a child receving a gift.

"Thank you, thank you!" she exclaims merrily. "I would hug you, but you know..."

She glances down at the gorgeous layers of her kimono.Chubei notices that despite all of Rozu's spiteful retorts, she still had her obi tied behind her. Folded and padded with such intricate care. Twirling his moustache, he pensively wonders how long his most sought after girl will carry on pretending to be oblivious to all...but he would be a hypocrite to say anything. For he is the same...

"Yes, I understand." He laughs. "You'd better be off then, that boy looks like he's going to drop dead if he doesn't get something to eat soon." The little boy yawns in response.

"See ya!" Kaiyoumi says brightly, ushering the boy through the shoji and slides it shut.

Chubei massages his temple as he walks to his cabinent to retrieve a new pipe, whispering out loud.

" Kaiyoumi, promise. Promise me you will not allow your feelings for the child to get in the way..."

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