Episode 6 – Lights Out

As he listened to the leaves rustling in the tree he leaned against, Sage ran a hand down his face. He'd been here in the village of Sakunami since yesterday, and was still no closer to finding that young woman from his dream since beginning his search three days prior. He'd originally thought to start in Sendai, the capital city of his home prefecture of Miyagi, but the city's population of around three million didn't exactly present great odds. Not to mention the bittersweet irony of it all.

Even without his calling to be a Ronin Warrior, Sage stood to inherit a grand legacy – specifically a grand kendo dojo – from birth. While he could never discuss his life as a Ronin Warrior with any of his relatives, he knew he owed it to them – especially his grandfather – for giving him the skills he needed to defend the earth – if inadvertently. Regardless, as his family's only son and heir, he would eventually have to marry. Not that he was in any particular hurry. There was still a good decade or two left in his grandfather.

But more than that, the strong-willed women of his family, particularly his mother, hadn't left the best impressions of their gender. Of course, Sage did love the women in his life, and he wanted to be sure the woman he married would be the right one. Yet here he was, looking for one, individual girl, but not with romance in mind. His thoughts having returned to his fruitless search, Sage yawned. Not even three hours of meditation in the Ōu Mountains at the crack of dawn had made the meaning of his dream any clearer.

He'd initially found himself in a long and dimly lit hallway, alone. Rows of sliding doors on either side seemed to stretch on forever, illuminated only by the occasional lantern, and only ominous silence greeted him. Am I in Talpa's castle? Even when met with no opposition, it took awhile for him to move forward one step. And even when he did, he immediately picked up the unmistakable sounds of conflict as they echoed from much farther up the hall.

His instincts had warned it could be a trap. But having always been one to head to the frontline if someone was in trouble, Sage didn't hesitate to race toward the commotion. Somehow, he knew intuitively which door hid the quickly escalating violence. Although still suspicious, Sage had wasted no time flinging that door open upon reaching it, ready to face whoever – or whatever – was on the other side, only to freeze as he beheld a startlingly familiar sight.

Similar to the hallway, the room itself was veiled all around in shadow, with a single lantern as the only light source. Despite its small size, its light formed a pool of illumination in the center of the room, as if in homage to Sage's armor of Halo. But it was the scene unfolding in that glowing circle that'd really caught his attention. Two young men – boys, really – in traditional kendo garb were dueling in a rather passionate way, one Sage remembered vividly. And he knew what was coming next.

Just as he'd predicted, one boy tossed sand into the other's face, causing the latter to drop his weapon and lift his hands to his eyes with a brief but pained cry of anger. Though he didn't remove his helmet, Sage already knew the identity of the boy who then set himself on the one who'd stunned him. He'd done such over five years ago, when he was fifteen years old, during what had originally been meant to be a so-called "friendly duel" between him and a schoolmate of his named Shingo.

Sage had never liked his opponent; he was way too full of himself. Nevertheless, Sage's grandfather and Shingo's grandfather were friends and both had insisted the match take place. Thanks to his lessons on meditation and discipline, Sage had held out fine at first. But then Shingo went too far, attempting to cheat by literally throwing dust in Sage's eyes, provoking Sage into forfeiting his temper along with the match. Now, although he felt the urge to try to break it up, seeing the fight from this point of view greatly disturbed him. I didn't know I could look so savage.

And yet Sage kept watching until his younger self knocked Shingo's helmet off – and knocked Shingo himself out in the process. As had happened that day, the speed and force of the shock at what he'd done sent both Sage's present self and his past self to their knees. In the case of his present self, it was mixed with regret that he hadn't stepped in to stop it as he should have. And he was assaulted with yet more astonishment when someone else – something else – soon stepped into the light for him… His old armor of Halo – moving on its own just as it did three years ago.

At the time, Sage had gone to America, thinking he was being consulted to verify his family's ancestral crest on an antique sword for Columbia University, only to walk into a trap. Using his victim as a medium, the evil sorcerer Shikaisen led Sage's armor on a rampage across New York and Los Angeles until Sage was rescued by his friends and fellow warriors. Now, seeing his rogue armor lifting his nodachi sword over his past self, he knew it'd come to wreak havoc once more. This time, he heeded his instincts, and shot forward to stop the assassination before it could occur.

But he was only a step away when he jumped back with a gasp, narrowly avoiding a weapon that flew his way in the blink of an eye. The armor of Halo wasn't as fortunate. The projectile cleaved through the middle of the helmet, splitting it in half and causing the rest of the armor to fall to the floor in a heap of green metal. As the resounding clashes echoed throughout the room, Sage saw with ever-increasing alarm that the weapon – now sticking out from the wall like a giant dart – was an uchigatana. Of course, the real question was who'd thrown it.

Daring to face the direction the sword had flown from, Sage let out another gasp and his eyes went wide as they landed on a feminine-shaped shadow standing on the far side of the room in a previously unseen doorway. She neither moved nor spoke – just stared at him with eyes of an unidentifiable color. For a moment, Sage took a defensive stance, uncertain if this young woman was a friend or foe. She had, after all, attacked his armor. And yet your own armor technically tried to kill you just now.

Much as he wanted to, Sage couldn't deny it. Even if she'd stolen his proverbial thunder, he still had to thank her for stopping his rogue armor from killing his younger self. Yet to do that, he had to learn her identity. And as she then turned and fled the scene, Sage knew there was only one way to find that out. He didn't like it, but he had to catch her. "Wait!" he called, his voice echoing into the hall as he reentered it. He looked left, then right, and when he spotted the living shadow speeding toward a corridor, he set off after her.

However much time passed since beginning his pursuit, Sage didn't keep track of it. The only thing on his mind was catching up to the spirit who always remained several steps ahead, even if she turned out to be an enemy when he did – if he did. Ignoring the doubt, Sage kept chasing his quarry through the maze of passageways, doors, and corridors that flew by in an increasingly dizzying blur. But he'd already vowed to run as long as he had the strength. "Wait!" he called yet again, only to lose sight of her and groan in more frustration than he'd felt in awhile. "Oh, come on!"

Still, he wasn't done, and dashed down yet another hall – which thankfully traveled in only one direction. Following that, Sage turned one corner, then a second, and just as he felt his patience wear thin after passing a third, he was taken by brief surprise upon seeing she'd halted in front of what may as well have been a giant hole in the wall, beyond which lay an ominous gathering of green clouds. Even so, Sage stood tall and strode toward the mysterious woman's back, determined not to let her escape him again.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Why did you help me back there?" He received no reply, and so demanded, "Answer me!" Suddenly, a thunderous boom shook the floor beneath Sage – but he kept his feet. The figure then looked over her shoulder at him with large eyes. At the same time, a massive flash of lightning illuminated the sky, while the wind blowing into the building lifted her long, braided hair. And yet, somehow, her features remained hidden.

She then faced him again, and before Sage could comprehend what was going on, she stretched out her arms on either side and allowed herself to fall backward. "Hey!" Sage shouted in alarm. He rushed forward, his hand stretched out to catch her. But he was too late. Sage himself only barely regained his balance before he could fall, too, and the only thing that greeted him was the endless sea of storm clouds. "What the–?!" Sage wondered out loud, before realizing it was pointless. The girl was gone. He had failed.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Sage fell to his knees for the second time. Eventually, he sensed he was no longer alone. "Why do you despair?" asked an airy, feminine voice, one that caused him to stiffen with recognition. "You do not know if you will see her again or not." Sage turned in the direction of the voice, and kneeling right next to him was the ghostly woman who'd helped him and his fellow warriors escape Talpa's influence the year before – Suzunagi.

His eyes widened briefly with wonder – until he hung his head in shame. "I'm supposed to be the warrior of wisdom. But I've been screwing up ever since the day I attacked Shingo, the same day I discovered my armor." Suzunagi's fingers then laced up his cheek, and Sage didn't resist as she turned his face toward hers.

"Young warrior," she declared, her eyes glowing with a knowledge Sage could only hope to attain for himself, "even the wisest are capable of error. I should know." A wave of regret crossed the woman's face. "If you recall, I blamed you and your fellow warriors for a crime you did not commit, until I realized I was at fault for doing so." Her mask then changed into one of conviction. "A true warrior knows not only to use his strengths to serve others, but to acknowledge his weaknesses, and learn from his mistakes."

Though appreciative of her words, Sage looked toward the clouds once more, and was quickly reminded of his most recent failure. "If only I'd foreseen what that girl was gonna do," he despaired again. "If only she'd let me know who she was."

"Not all are as they appear, Sage of the Halo," Suzunagi replied as she stood. "You can still decide whether or not you will see her again. But if you were to ask me, you would be wise to continue your pursuit." She then turned, and though he realized she was leaving, Sage couldn't find the words needed to call out to her. He could only sit where he was and stare at her back, his mouth hanging open in bewilderment, until he found himself back in his own familiar room in the equally familiar waking world.

Now, it was the faint tinkling of bells that brought him back to the present. Suddenly curious, Sage looked toward the village proper of Sakunami. He noted with interest that the townspeople were decorating several buildings with traditional ornaments, likely for the upcoming Tanabata festival. Sendai boasted its celebration of the event as the largest in Japan year after year. But it was always held in July, well over two weeks away. Then again, Sakunami was famous for its hot springs. Perhaps they wanted to take advantage of the traffic as soon as possible.

That was when something yet more intriguing caught Sage's eye. A large tent with flowing silvery cloth that flapped lightly in the wind had been erected in an opening by the main road, not far from where he stood. How he could've overlooked it before was beyond Sage; still, his curiosity had piqued even more, and he reasoned there could be no harm in checking it out. After looking both ways, he hastened across the road.

By the time he reached the structure, a considerable crowd was gathering just outside it. Wanting to learn what all the fuss was about, Sage made his way to the front of the tent as quickly and politely as possible, when he noticed a sign standing beside the entrance, specifically the kanji characters written very elaborately on it. "Huh…" He raised an eyebrow upon reading them as "Hakugin Chaya," or "Silver Teahouse," which he recognized as the name of the only ochaya – or teahouse – in Miyagi, as it had been for generations.

In this context, "teahouse" referred to an establishment where patrons were entertained by geisha not only in the serving of tea but in all sorts of other ways – which absolutely did not include prostitution as some believed. Sage himself never frequented the ochaya, but his grandfather occasionally did, though ochaya in general were usually exclusive. Just as Sage was wondering what they were doing here, he accidentally bumped into an older woman. "E-excuse me, ma'am," he instinctively apologized, even as he blushed in embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry."

Fortunately, the woman didn't seem to take offense. "No harm done, young man," she smiled warmly. "I'm assuming you're as eager as everyone else to see the dances from the Hakugin Chaya."

While he was actually eager to know what was going on exactly, Sage proceeded carefully. "Yeah, about that, pardon me but, what are they doing here? I thought they were based in downtown Sendai."

"They are," the woman nodded. "But they have plenty of maiko ready to debut this season. And with the Tanabata festival coming up, I suppose they figured now was as good a time as any to go on tour around Miyagi. In fact, you made it just in time! There's still one more maiko about to dance!"

Though not the most knowledgeable about geisha culture, Sage knew maiko were geisha-in-training. Suddenly, he wondered if this could give him a lead in his search for the young woman from his dream, unlikely though it was. "Do you know what her name is at least?"

The woman's eyes lit up. "Oh, I think you'll really like her! Her name is Mitsu Tamura! Lovely young lady she is! And you might want to get a seat while you can. She'll be performing in only a few minutes."

"Thank you, ma'am," Sage dipped his chin before taking her advice and entering the tent.

Like most, the inside seemed larger than the outside, and the sun filtering through provided a surprising amount of light. At the very back was a modest but specially crafted stage, with a curtain of hanging beads in the center and decorative byōbu – or painted folding screens – panned out on both sides. At the left side of the stage and Sage's right sat three women in full geisha garb and makeup preparing their instruments – a shamisen, a shakuhachi, and a pair of small drums.

Unfortunately, all the chairs that'd been set up seemed to be taken. But there were still several people standing on either side of the rows, and at the very front of the tent. Deciding to stand among those gathered at the left wall, Sage took his place. Before long, someone must've given a sort of signal, because the audience quickly quieted down and directed their attention toward the stage, causing Sage to do likewise. The three geisha began to play their instruments, the beaded curtain was lifted, and out came the maiko known as Mitsu Tamura.

She wore a pale green kimono patterned with large white flowers, along with a gold-brocade obi wrapped around her waist and tied in its distinctive bow at the back. Her sleeves and skirt stretched to the floor, giving the illusion that she was gliding as she slowly moved to the front of the stage. Like the three geisha, she wore the trademark white face-paint, making her arching black eyebrows and bright red lips stand out. Yet, curiously, unlike the three geisha, she didn't wear a black-haired wig. Instead, her dark brown hair was styled with elaborate pins and floral ornaments.

Though he never cared for how girls tended to fuss over appearances, Sage was always one for natural beauty. In Mitsu Tamura's case, even with her getup, the air with which she carried herself – and her large green eyes that matched her kimono – gave the impression that she was gentle yet bold, even mischievous, particularly when she brought out a fan from inside her sleeve. The way she twirled and even tossed it a couple times proved so charming that she earned applause not just from the audience but from Sage as well…until he noticed something else about her.

Given the lack of reaction from the audience and those onstage, he was pretty sure only he saw it. Yet it alarmed him all the same. A kanji character had appeared on the young woman's forehead. Even from where he was, Sage could read it as "Rei/礼," or "Grace" in English. And the way it glowed in green light was all but identical to how Sage's own guiding trait of "Chi/智," or "Wisdom" in English, sometimes glowed on his forehead. But that's impossible! he protested inwardly. Only a Ronin Warrior has something like that! Unless…unless she is a Ronin Warrior!

Only then did he realize the performance had ended, because the audience was applauding, and Mitsu Tamura was curtsying. But even as he politely clapped along with everyone else, Sage wondered wildly how a young woman training to be a geisha – the complete opposite of a Ronin Warrior – could nonetheless be one just like him. Perhaps he'd only imagined the combination of boldness and gentleness he saw in her. Whatever the case, however reluctant Sage was, he could only hope this real-life pursuit would prove more successful than the one in his dream.

Upon reaching the ochaya's dressing room – which had been set up in a trailer behind the tent – the maiko who'd just performed hastened to the sink. She sighed in relief once she washed off all the face-paint, and then again when she loosed her hair from the pins and ornaments, letting it fall in its usual messy braid with her bangs framing her now flushed face. Lastly, she hung up the kimono and donned the change of clothes she'd brought. She smiled in satisfaction when she saw her reflection in the mirror. No longer playing a role, she was herself – Mitsu Tamura – once more.

Suddenly, a knock sounded on her door, along with an immediately recognizable voice. "You done?"

Though a bit annoyed at the interruption, Mitsu replied levelly, "Yeah, come in!" The door opened, and in walked a younger girl who looked almost exactly like the one occupying the room. Knowing she'd watched the dance with the audience in the tent, Mitsu tried to smile as she asked, "What'd you think, Sumire?"

"It was good," Sumire nodded reluctantly. "Pretty decent." But Mitsu could tell there was more to her opinion, and she sighed as though realizing Mitsu was on to her. "Okay…you were beautiful, as always. Mom taught you well." She then frowned and looked away before adding softly, "I just wish she'd teach me, too."

Mitsu's heart went out to her sister. They both knew it was Sumire who wanted to be a geisha. But because Mitsu had been born first, their mother had invested almost all her attention and training in her older daughter.

As if wanting to avoid the discomfort of the matter, Sumire smiled again, more fully this time. "On the bright side, there was this really cute guy who came in just before you started. He had the most gorgeous blond hair and he wore it over one of his eyes. Oh, you should've seen him!"

Mitsu gave an awkward smirk. In her experience, the really handsome guys almost always turned out to be jerks. "In that case, it's better that I didn't." The girls then lifted their heads when they heard footsteps running to join them, and Mitsu inwardly groaned.

"At least I did!" said a pre-adolescent boy who bore a resemblance to both of them. He held up the phone he'd gotten for his birthday, which showed a picture of Sumire with a dreamy-eyed look on her face. "Or at least I got a good shot of you gawking at him!"

Sumire let out a shocked gasp. "How dare you, you little–! Give me that!" She dove for her brother's phone, but he was too fast, snatching it away before she could grasp it. Being tall for his age, the boy managed to keep it out of his sister's reach, laughing as though this whole thing were a game.

"You're gonna have to catch me first!" he grinned mischievously. But just as he was about to take off, Mitsu decided enough was enough and quickly put her foot down.

"Alright guys, cut it out!" she ordered, ignoring how much she sounded like their mother. "Masaji, take that picture off your phone right now! There's plenty of other things you can take pictures of."

Masaji frowned and slumped his shoulders in disappointment. "Fine," he groaned. As he then walked away, Mitsu heard him mutter spitefully, "It's not like there's anything else to do here." She herself then frowned, but there was a tinge of sympathy to it.

No one was pleased with the arrangement. Masaji had wanted to hang out with a friend, but since Mitsu was debuting as a maiko, their parents had refused. Then they were called away on a last-minute family emergency, leaving Mitsu stuck with her siblings – not that she didn't love them, but it was another burden of being the oldest. Being closer in age, Sumire wasn't as much of an issue as Masaji. But Mitsu could see where their bored and restless brother was coming from, given the overtly feminine world of geisha – which she herself wasn't particularly fond of.

With that thought, Mitsu proceeded to reassure her sister. "He'll be fine." Then more hesitantly, she added, "Actually, I know we just started talking but, I need a bit of a break. Do you mind?"

Sumire lifted her eyebrows knowingly at Mitsu. "Don't tell me you're gonna brood about that dream again," she said in an exhausted tone. "It's been…what? Three days since you had it?"

"Yes," Mitsu sighed in defeat. "But…I don't know. Something about today just reminded me of it." She knew it didn't make much sense, but it was all she could think to say. "I'm just trying to think things through, okay?"

This time, Sumire sighed and nodded. "Okay. I guess if I had a dream like that, I'd be weirded out, too. But I have my own mission." She then looked in the direction their brother left and added with determination, "To get Masaji's phone and delete that picture!"

Mitsu couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, good luck with that." After closing the door, she turned her back to it and took a seat in one of the chairs, her hands running down her braid as they tended to do. She hadn't been kidding about being reminded of a dream she'd had the other night that was more bizarre than any she'd had in a long time, which was saying something considering dreams by their very nature were odd. Still, Mitsu had felt some kind of sensation while she was dancing. Though she'd ignored it back then, she couldn't now.

The first thing she recalled in her dream was that she was alone in a dark, silent place that filled her with a sense of foreboding. Just as she wondered if something important was about to happen, a spotlight flashed on out of nowhere, making her gasp and put a hand in front of her eyes. But the beam wasn't focused on her. When Mitsu lowered her hand, it was instead highlighting a beaded curtain, much like the one she'd entered through when she'd begun her dance today.

But the stage it provided a gateway to resembled more of a walkway stretching forward than the usual raised platform, and the only source of illumination other than the spotlight was a series of dozens of candles bordering the aisle. Everything else – if there was anything else – remained hidden in black shadow. Suddenly, though she could see no musicians, the sound of drums reached Mitsu's ears, eventually climaxing when a shakuhachi began playing. The curtain of beads was then tossed aside, and the tall figure who entered made Mitsu freeze and stare.

She held a decorated parasol over her shoulder, and wore a pure white kimono etched with a red pattern that strongly resembled flecks of blood. The entirety of her skin, not just her face, was as white as the garment. Coupled with black eyebrows and scarlet lips, she looked like she'd walked right out of an ukiyo-e painting, especially when snow began falling around her. But as she moved slowly across the walkway with the introduction of a shamisen, Mitsu realized with shock that the young woman's dark brown braid was a dead giveaway of her identity. It's…me.

Yet despite the initial surprise, Mitsu continued to watch herself as the music intensified with the reintroduction of the drums. The light now had a red hue to it, highlighting the patterns on her kimono. Mitsu's twin swung her parasol this way and that as though fighting an invisible foe, until she dropped it and swayed backwards, her hands and sleeves covering her face. She then began moving forward, then back again, forward, back – all while flaying her arms like a trapped swan, her eyes wide yet blank – until she fell to the floor of the walkway, making Mitsu flinch.

At first, she wondered if this was the end of the ominous performance. But the true ending came when her twin lifted herself up onto her knees, and bent backward in an arch so that her head nearly touched the floor. The whole scene reminded Mitsu of a similar spectacle in a kabuki play she'd seen with her parents. But I was Masaji's age then. And I've never seen a geisha dance like this. Yet before she could mull over it any longer, she merely blinked, and all was black and silent again. The walkway, spotlight, music, and her doppelgänger had all vanished as if they'd never been.

"You lack grace," a feminine voice suddenly echoed through the shadows. Mitsu spun around, and her eyes went wide upon seeing a rather majestic-looking woman. She wore robes that were even whiter than her twin's kimono, the sleeves and skirt flowing behind her as she seemed to float rather than walk toward Mitsu. With every step, Mitsu heard the clinking of beads, and noted with interest that the woman carried a rosary. The bangs of her crimson hair fell to just above her blue-green eyes, which seemed to glow in a way that told Mitsu this was not a living person.

Yet in spite of this woman's awe-inspiring regalia, Mitsu quickly recalled what she'd just said, and how it stung. "What do you mean, I lack grace?" she half-asked, half-demanded. "If you're talking about that performance just now, that wasn't really me. I've been trained to be graceful almost all my life."

"Ah, but it was you," the woman countered, but not in a taunting way. "And not simply because of your identical features. You want to choose your own path, yet you feel constrained by the limits others have placed on you. Is that not so?"

It was as if this spirit had looked into the deepest parts of Mitsu and read a diary containing her most closely guarded thoughts and feelings. But again, she didn't seem to be acting out of mean-spiritedness. If anything, it was as though she wanted to help Mitsu. Then again, this was a dream. Maybe this woman was just a figment of her imagination. "So what if it is?" Mitsu asked in a resigned tone. "It's not like my mom will ever allow it. If she knew what I really wanted…" She trailed off as she realized where this was going. "If she knew what I was doing behind her back…"

Suddenly, resentment boiled within her until she finally let it spill out. "But why should I care, if she wants to relive her glory days through me?! If she gets her feelings hurt, that's on her, not me! If only there was a way I could prove myself to her – my real self!"

The woman calmly listened to Mitsu's rant before laying a hand on her shoulder, and gazed at her with motherly eyes that Mitsu didn't often see from her own mother. "And that, unfortunately, is where you lack grace," she said, her tone both soft and firm. "A true warrior does not need to prove herself. Her character and actions – especially during difficult times – speak for her. She is respected not only for her strength but for her courtesy." She then gestured towards something behind Mitsu, causing her to turn around, and lightly gasp at the scene that greeted her.

In the midst of the darkness, a veil of green fog revealed only the shadows of several figures that strongly resembled samurai warriors. But one of them was different. From what Mitsu could gather with her squinted eyes, the one in the middle resembled a young man – though who it was, she couldn't even begin to guess. Suddenly, another shadow entered the scene from some sort of platform high above the rest. And if Mitsu's instincts weren't deceiving her, this new arrival was shaped too much like her twin from earlier to not be the same person – to not be her.

She spun back around to face the ghostly woman again, but the apparition didn't seem put off at all. Indeed, she smiled. "You have a great light within you, Mitsu. But in order for it to shine, you must break through the storm clouds blocking it." As soon as those words left her lips, the unknown woman who somehow nonetheless knew Mitsu's name, began to fade. Alarmed, Mitsu reached for her shoulder, but it was like trying to grab empty air.

"No, wait!" she implored. "You can't leave me yet! Who are you? At least tell me what you mean!" But it ultimately proved futile as her voice echoed throughout the world of black, especially when Mitsu woke up in her own bed, all hope of learning the woman's identity and the meaning of her words having faded along with her.

When Mitsu next blinked, she was startled to find that she'd unconsciously traded the inside of the trailer for the outside behind the tent, until she sighed. It was just as well. Whenever she got lost in thought, being inside felt claustrophobic. The clean, fresh air just made it easier to think. All that was missing were rainclouds. While Mitsu appreciated sunny days as much as the next person, she found the crackle of lightning and boom of thunder ironically relaxing, ever since she was little. Perhaps it was because she'd been born during a storm, as her father sometimes joked.

Mitsu sighed again, this time in relief that only the outdoors could bring. Deciding she could use the exercise, she walked forward, heading for one of the corners of the tent. But just as she was turning it, Mitsu froze in her tracks when she nearly bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry, my bad," she hastily apologized.

"No, it's alright," said a young masculine voice. "I didn't see y–" Both then froze and stared at each other. Mitsu in particular felt mortified upon realizing the young man's features fit her sister's description to a T. With the way the sun made his blond hair shine, he looked as though he'd been crowned with a halo of glory. One half of his bangs fell over his right eye, and the blue of his left eye was remarkably pale. To top it all off, he was only slightly taller than her. Even Mitsu could no longer disagree with her sister's verdict – he was handsome.

"I'm sorry," he then said, having probably realized he was staring. "I shouldn't have… It's just that I…uh…oh!" He covered the top half of his face with his hand and muttered, "Man I'm bad at this." For a moment, Mitsu felt for him, until she reasoned this could probably just be an act. A man this good-looking must've known he was and therefore knew how to flirt. But she was smarter than that. Even so, she waited until he seemed to find the words. "Pardon me but, are you Mitsu Tamura?"

Mitsu raised her eyebrows. What could this man want with her? In spite of the cautionary voice in her mind nagging at her to get away as fast as possible, she replied slowly, "Yes, I am… And, you are?"

"Sage Date," he introduced himself in turn. Having been a resident of Sendai her whole life, even if the guy before Mitsu was a stranger, the surname was not. And he confirmed it by adding, "Yes, like Date Masamune."

Against her better judgment, Mitsu wondered if he could be a distant relation of the daimyo who'd founded Miyagi's capital. "Date" wasn't exactly a common surname. And Mitsu and her family were descended from kin of the Date clan, given their surname "Tamura." But she promptly did away with such musings. "Can I help you then?"

Suddenly, Sage's eyes – or at least the one she could see – took on a sort of knowing look. And somehow, it triggered that same sensation Mitsu had felt during her dance, except it was stronger this time. "Actually, this may sound crazy but, I think you can."

While Sage hoped he'd said the right thing, Mitsu Tamura opened her mouth to reply. But before she could, a rumbling sound and shaking feeling suddenly caught both of them off guard. Sage instinctively grabbed the silver cloth of the tent, when the sensation stopped about as fast as it'd started. But did I really imagine that? he doubted. Suddenly filled with an ominous sense of dread, Sage hoped Mitsu would be honest with him as he asked, "Did you feel that just now? A shaking feeling, I mean?"

To his brief relief, she nodded, though her green eyes were wide with the same level of alarm. "Whatever that was, I didn't like it at a–" Mitsu was cut off when the same sensation returned with a violent vengeance that made the previous shaking mild in comparison.

An earthquake! Sage realized as his dread became terror. But just as quickly, that terror became conviction. As a Ronin Warrior, he had a strong sense of spiritual danger, and given how it was practically emanating with every shake, an earthquake like this could only mean one thing. A great evil is coming…

Now that he'd found his girl, there was only one thing on Sage's mind – getting her to safety. All attempts at politeness having fled, he grabbed hold of Mitsu's shoulders. "We shouldn't be here!" he shouted over the thunderous rumbling. "We gotta get outta here now!"

"Wait!" Mitsu shouted back. She then spun around and sprinted toward the trailer. Apparently there was something in there she foolishly thought more worth saving than her own life. Still, he wasn't about to let her out of his sight like he had in his dream.

"No, you wait!" he called at the top of his lungs. When she didn't stop, Sage took off after her, doing his best to stay on his feet as the ground beneath him continued to quake and tremble.

He followed in her footsteps after she darted around the corner of the trailer, but then froze when she hurried up to the door, swung it open, and yelled in desperation, "Sumire! Masaji!"

Shortly after, a girl of probably sixteen years and an even younger boy flew out the door as though they'd been granted wings. When Sage saw how much they resembled Mitsu, he immediately chastised himself. She was going back for her family! Not some ridiculous trinket or anything!

Despite his previous annoyance, the fear in the eyes of both of Mitsu's siblings awakened his protective instincts, and obviously hers as well. "Are you both alright?!" she shouted.

Her brother – Masaji – only nodded, evidently too stunned to even speak. Her sister – Sumire – nodded too, but she still possessed her voice. "Yeah, but…what are we gonna do?!"

Before anyone could say anything else, an especially big tremor shook the earth so hard they all dropped to their knees. Immediately after, Sumire let out a terrified shriek, and when Sage looked up and saw why, his mouth fell open in shock. The trailer was starting to fall over – right on top of Mitsu and her siblings! Not on my watch! With speed faster than that of a marathon runner, Sage shot forward and snatched up both Sumire and Masaji. Thankfully, when Mitsu saw what he was doing, she took off nearly as fast, and – CRASH!

A great boom sounded as the impact of the trailer's fall lent itself to the chaos. Before Sage knew what was happening, Sumire and Masaji slipped from his grasp, and they, he, and Mitsu were all tumbling down in a screaming heap. The world seemed to spin in a dizzying vortex of disorientation as Sage hit the ground again and again, letting out pained noises every time. But just as he was beginning to wonder when it would stop, everything came to an abrupt halt as he landed for the final time hard on his back.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing Mitsu knew was that she was lying on her back, on hard but steady ground. A ringing noise filled her ears and it was hard at first to get air into her lungs. But she soon managed it and coughed up dust. The next sound to escape her lips was a pained groan, which she barely heard with the ringing still grating on her sense of hearing. For a moment, Mitsu couldn't move, and she feared she'd been paralyzed. But she twitched her fingers and then her toes, and realized she simply needed to rest until she regained her strength.

Eventually, with another groan, Mitsu slowly raised herself up – first into a sitting position. After another minute of panting, she forced her trembling and sore limbs to obey her until she finally gained her feet. But she feared she might fall back onto the ground when she beheld the scene before her.

She was in a ravine, with trees full of green summer leaves springing up all around, and boulders and moss bordering a steadily flowing river she recognized as the Hirose – the sound of which reached her ears once the ringing started to clear. Looking left, then up, her eyes widened upon seeing the steep and rocky incline she knew she'd fallen down, and how it stretched dozens of feet high. Memories of the event then brought a terrible reminder that she wasn't the only one who'd fallen down.

Looking to the center again, Mitsu saw her sister and brother struggling to lift themselves up as she'd done, with the same moans and groans. She sighed with relief. While they looked quite banged up, with plenty of cuts and bruises, that seemed to be the worst of it. But then Mitsu frowned when she remembered a fourth individual should be with them. Once she picked up another set of moans, she turned left once more to face the base of the literally slippery slope. Her heart pounded as soon as she saw the blond man called Sage Date prop himself up with his elbows.

"Man!" Masaji yelled, the sound causing Mitsu to flinch as it echoed throughout the ravine. "I feel like I just lived through a train wreck! But it was awesome!" Suddenly, he froze, his eyes wide. "We aren't dead, are we?"

"No!" Sumire strained in reply. "I can tell." Even though she seemed well enough to fully stand, she remained on one knee, hanging her head as she panted. "My foot hurts."

Though still aware of her own aching joints, Mitsu nevertheless hastened in fresh alarm toward her sister and knelt next to her. "Where does it hurt?"

Sumire was gritting her teeth and sweat had broken out on her forehead. "I think it's my ankle," she replied with the same strain as before, then added, "That's it. I'm never wearing sandals again."

When Mitsu saw nothing wrong with her sister's right foot, she looked at her left, and felt nausea erupt in her gut. Sumire's ankle was swelling and had bent slightly in an awkward position. When Mitsu reached forward and felt around it, her sister's resulting yelp confirmed her fears. "Oh no, Sumire," she shook her head. "I think you sprained your ankle."

"What?!" the girl demanded with wide-eyed shock. "That's stupid! I feel fine no–! Ow!"

"Don't move!" Mitsu exclaimed in both frustration and concern. "You'll only make it worse!" After assisting her sister into a sitting position, she heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Sage. He appeared about as thrashed as the rest of them – excluding Sumire – but other than that, he seemed fine.

"So," he panted, looking like he was trying not to bend over, "is everyone okay?" Though relieved that he seemed to be alright, Mitsu wasn't about to let her guard down around this guy.

"Masaji and I are fine," she nodded. "But Sumire has a sprained ankle. I'm gonna need to find something to support it so she doesn't move it around so much."

Mitsu stood up again, brushing the dirt and dust off of herself, when Sage suddenly declared out of the blue, "I'll come with you."

Had she not been so exhausted, Mitsu would've argued. But she lacked the energy needed. Still, when she thought about it, she felt it was time Masaji learned to be responsible. "Okay then," she acquiesced before turning to face her brother. "Masaji, Sage and I are going to look for something to support Sumire's ankle. Make sure she sits as still as possible and do not leave her side, understand?"

"What?" Masaji asked in mock innocence. "You think I'm just gonna climb up outta here?" Before Mitsu could snap back, Masaji quickly reassured her. "I'll stay with her, I promise."

"I should think so," Mitsu said firmly. With that matter settled, she and Sage embarked through the ravine, past the spot where Mitsu had landed. The going was a bit tough at first, since they were still aching in a few spots, but at least there was solace to be found in the fact that the ground was no longer shaking.

Eventually, Sage broke the silence. "Okay, I think all we need to find are a couple of small straight sticks, and then something to wrap around Sumire's ankle to hold them in place."

"That's what I was thinking," Mitsu agreed. But suddenly, another immediate issue pressed itself on her mind. "I've never experienced an earthquake before. But from what I know, they usually aren't as volatile as that one was."

"It wasn't an ordinary earthquake, that's for sure," Sage concurred. "You were lucky I was there to rescue you and your siblings." Upon hearing that last sentence, something in Mitsu took offense, and it was only heightened when she remembered her first impression of this guy.

Despite the initial connection between them – if one could call it that – his attitude and words seemed to confirm what she believed about him. "Who do you think you are?" she demanded.

Sage turned toward her, the wind lifting his hair and allowing her to see the flash of indignation in both his eyes. "I think – no, I know I'm the guy who just saved your life, and the lives of your brother and sister. I figured you already knew that, too. My mistake, apparently."

Reluctantly, Mitsu allowed his words to sink in. She was loathe to admit it, but as aggravating as this guy had already proven himself to be, he did save her and her siblings. Swallowing her pride, she straightened, and – without looking at Sage – briefly bobbed her head. "Thank you."

Suddenly, she flinched and let out a hiss as she felt a sharp pain in her own foot. "What is it?" Sage asked in annoyance.

Hating that he'd noticed, Mitsu shook her head. "It's nothing, I'm fine. Maybe it's just a rock in my shoe." But already, she was feeling a little alarmed.

"Well, hurry up then," Sage urged before continuing down the trail on his own. Ignoring him, Mitsu took off her shoe – and immediately discovered the ugly consequence of not wearing socks.

Somehow, something had cut through her shoe and sliced a bit of a deep cut in her foot. Now it was bleeding rather profusely. She sat down, hoping that if Sage looked back, it would simply look like she was getting rid of the aforementioned rock. But Sage's back remained turned, allowing Mitsu to take her cloth belt and tie it around her foot, pulling it tight with her teeth. Although relieved of the sting, she knew it would only be brief. And as she put her shoe back on and stood up, Mitsu also knew there was no way she was going to look weak in front of this weirdo.

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