The Butterfly Effect

"My pack? You make it sound like I'm some kind of leader. I am not a leader. I merely know what I value in this world, and to keep it safe I will weather any hurricane, hunt you down, and kill you. Questions?" Continuation of 'Butterflies'. Character death, Anbu operations, gratuitous violence and some adult situations. May change to M rating.

Deleted Chapter 3 – Namiki Keito

8-8

Saromi. We weren't always called that. In fact, we were once known as the Satomi clan – 'sato' meaning 'wise' and 'mi' meaning 'beautiful'. We see beauty in wisdom, it is the way of the samurai. At least… that's what I once believed. I see… things. Things that should not be, yet are. Things that should be against our ways, yet happen with frustrating consistency.

Some are easy to overlook. Arranged marriages, for one. Our clan fled to the mountains because we could no longer stomach someone else dictating our fate. Yet we dictate the lives of our young. Mother is the prime example of that. Lowborn of the Taira clan, of the Land of Rice Patties. She'd been offered as a 'peace time gift', by the Daimyo of Rice Patties; a means of showing appreciation. Her fate was dictated by others.

Once of the Saromi, it should be our way to not dictate her fate even more. They did. They married her to my father… a lowborn samurai, a drunk. Not once did mother complain. She serves him faithfully each day. She bore him two sons and three daughters. Never once did her loyalty to him waver.

Nor has her loyalty to her children, no matter how dishonourable Koshiro conducts himself. He, like his father before him, is… a stain on our family's honour. A womanizer. A drunk. A philanderer. I… I was willing to accept the arranged marriage; Tsuki-san is an honourable woman, after all. Until I walked in on them, mid coitus. She claims rape, but one should not be screaming 'fuck me harder' to one's rapist. It calls credibility into question.

And yet, my father demands I honour the marriage contract that he signed. That he signed. Not I. Mine eyes, to this day, have not seen the words elegantly written on paper that were to bind me to Tsuki-san.

"I refuse." I say, meeting my father's angry gaze. "Not for the sake of dishonouring Tsuki-san. But for the sake of not denying her that which she desires. Let her marry Koshiro, she clearly loves him."

"Koshiro is to marry another." My father claims.

"Then he should not have wooed Tsuki-san." I will not bow to this. I will not. To marry without love, this is hard enough. To marry with full knowledge she loves another? No. I will not damn myself to that fate, to question if every child she bears belongs to Koshiro.

"Lies! I did no such thing!" Koshiro claims.

"So you claim an honourable woman as Tsuki-san wooed you?" I ask, meeting yet another angry gaze impassively. "You claim she snuck into your room, with full intent of offering her maidenhood to you?"

He scoffs, waving off facts as if flies over his meal. "She was no maiden." Koshiro claims yet again. After all, it is our laws that an unwed man must marry a women should he claim her maidenhood outside of wedlock. It is to protect our sisters, our daughters. If he is wed and does so? He must still take her and support her for life. Lest there be accusations of rape, in which case the fate of the rapist is determined at the whim of the victim – should there be any evidence of the crime. One of many reasons women are taught to travel nowhere alone in Three Wolves.

"Be mindful of your words, Koshiro. I have seen virginal blood on your sheets. I will not stain my honour by bearing false witness for your sake." I warn seriously. My father starts coughing, his condition worsens. It is no concern of mine. To indulge in sake and tobacco without a care everyday of your life from the day of one's majority? Such things catch up to you eventually.

"You would lie to the council of elders?" My eyes widen considerably.

"I wouldn't dare." I answer honestly. "I would tell the truth wholly and without fear. And you, brother?"

"Then our truths clash. Our realities are at odds." Koshiro grinds out, death being promised in his gaze.

"You delude yourself. I see clearly, and I would not have you claiming otherwi-" He comes at me, katana in hand, ready to behead me. I duck under his slash, unsheathing my katana and driving the butt into his throat. He stumbles back, gasping for air.

"You would attack your own brother!?" My father demands. I stare. Blank, shocked… appalled. He speaks to me this way? I am attacked without just cause, and he defends my attacker? Where is the honour in this?

"Had I not moved? What then would be your accusation?" I demand. "That I committed seppuku and he was my second?"

My father, he grabs Koshiro's katana and sheathes it. "Koshiro-chan never drew his blade. Why should I lie about such things?"

"So he is meant to marry well. You would rather have me killed than have that marriage contract annulled." I don't need his confirmation. The motifs are plain as day.

"If you deny Tsuki as your wife, you dishonour the Saromi clan. As such, you dishonour all you stand for. Death is preferable, though you so clearly desire a worse fate." My fa… no, that man claims. "Give me your blades."

Anger courses through my veins, hot like molten steel. "So this is the future of the Saromi?" I grab both my katana and wakizashi, throwing them at his feet still in sheath. Koshiro, obviously feeling vindictive, takes both blades and breaks them. I care not. That man, he takes an older pair… his old pair. A gift to him from mother's doting eldest brother, left to rot away. They are thrown to me, callously, without purpose or honour. Just as I now find myself.

A nation of samurais built upon a foundation of freedom from the yokes of a cruel master. How our ancestors must weep in the Pure Lands.

8-8

I walk. I wander. Days. Weeks. Months on end. I care not where I go, there is nowhere meant for me. I care not where I sleep, only the honourable deserve shelter. I beg for food, but refuse all moneys offered. I scavenge what I can from the wild, hunting and roasting what I kill. The life of a ronin, existing without honour.

I have no tools to care for these blades. No matter, they are not mine. They are… that man's. I only use them if there is no other choice.

I hunger. I hunger for something no meal can sate. I hunger for the honour I once believed in, I once stood for, I once would have died for.

Was it all a lie? Honour? Does it truly exist? Righteousness, Courage, Benevolence, Respect, Sincerity, Honour, Loyalty, Self-control. The precepts of Bushido, all denied of me. Not for the sake of my transgressions; this is imposed on me for the sake of two men that know nothing of honour.

"STOP! THIEF!" I turn, wondering that I find myself in a busy street, seemingly near a marketplace. I see two men running in my direction, and an angry woman running after them. I unsheathe both katana and wakizashi, blitzing to the men and holding the blunt side against their throats. I shove them back, glad them lose their footing and fall on their backsides.

The woman makes it to us not a moment later. I turn to the two men, glaring up at me with angry eyes. I point the katana at one of them, indicating to whom I speak. "I will ask only once that you do not lie to me. Have you stolen something?" I demand of him.

He smirks, amused with me. "What's it to ya?"

"He stole my money purse, good sir! I cannot feed my children without it!" The woman announces. I detect no deceit, and he does not deny.

"You will return it." I tell the thief.

"No."

"Ma'am, I would ask that you look away. You do not wish to see this." I say, meeting her now frightened gaze impassively. She does as I ask. "You have once chance to convince me to spare your life. Use it wisely."

"Aww, but my wife and brats would miss me." He sounds amused. His head roles not a moment later.

"And you, sir?" I turn to the accomplice. "Shall you toy with me, when you are so clearly guilty?"

"N-n-n-n-n-n-no." He grabs the money pouch from within his kimono.

"Have you taken anything else?" I demand. He stutters terribly. So much so, I cannot grasp his message. "If you cannot speak intelligibly, act." He turns to his beheaded partner, hesitantly reaching into his kimono and grabbing another pouch. I nod, taking both from him. "Ma'am, I would ask that you tell me how much was stolen from you."

"F-f-f-fourt-teen th-thousand Ryou." She manages. "It was for… b-b-b-buying w-winter cl-clothes for my ch-children." I nod, accepting her words as truth. I flick the katana to rid it of blood, then sheathe her. Opening one of the pouches, I see a collection of smaller pouches. This will be a long day, sorting this out properly.

8-8

Where am I now? I know not. It seems… peaceful enough. The victims of those petty thieves were kind to me, offering me all that I might want. What I hunger for, they could not offer. How long ago had that transpired? It matters not. Done is done.

"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-butcher!" I hear, looking ahead to see guards arriving at the customs gate of some city. I care not which, nor for its name. I walk over to them, seeing bodies strewn about, some beheaded, many mangled beyond recognition. What kind of man did this?

"What happened here?" I demand.

"W-w-w-w-we were attacked! Sh-sh-sh-short! G-g-g-g-glasses! S-s-s-s-sc-sc-ar! L-l-l-eft eye!" He manages, obviously the mental trauma addles his speech. "Th-th-th-th-that w-w-w-way!" I nod, running in exactly that direction. It takes no longer than ten minutes to spot a group of five. I… am unsure what to make of them.

The tallest, a man, he looks capable. Though he indulges in tobacco, even at this early hour. The second tallest, a rotund teen. He honestly looks as if he wouldn't harm a fly. Then comes a blonde maiden, she too in her teens. She looks upset about something – deeply disturbed, truly. And another teen, laconic from the look of him, even as they run. These four, not a drop of blood on any of them.

The short one. Black hair reaching her –and it is most assuredly a maiden– thighs. She is covered in blood from head to toe. This is the butcher?

"Seriously?" I hear her speak. Her voice almost sings, even in her exasperation. She senses me, even with fifty metres still separating us. She is skilled.

However skilled, I shall suffer no butcher to live. I draw both blades, attacking with reckless abandon. She… intrigues me. With seemingly no effort at all, she turns to me, unsheathes twin kodachis and blocks both attacks with no struggle on her part. I must be delirious, maddened by hunger and fatigue. And yet, she does indeed had glasses and a vertical scar over her left eye.

"Something on my face?" Her singsong voice, it… confuses me. She clearly shows annoyance with me, almost in a condescending way… but… at one and the same time, not. A true conundrum.

"I didn't expect a butcher to be so pretty." I tell her honestly. Truly, even covered in blood, her beauty is undeniable. I… do not understand.

"I didn't expect a simple mission to include a corrupt daimyo trying to kill my team and enslave me." That's a lie, it has to be! Though, for the life of me I detect no deceit from her. She likely notices my dilemma; she shoves me back, almost forcing me to lose my footing. "Life's just fun like that."

I come at her once again, trying with all my might to avenge those she felled. Again, she uses the speed of her shorter blades to intercept me, while still not buckling under the power of my strikes. "You are skilled, butcher."

She seems… exasperated? "I am Aya, not 'butcher'. Why is it that no one has the common decency to call me by my name anymore?" A trick. A simple mind game. It can be nothing else. I channel my chakra in the blades I wield, wishing to end this stalemate quickly. She defends with no more effort than previously. She kicks me in the shin, hard enough that I wince. I back off, wondering what it is that I truly face.

She is clearly a skilled swordsman… swordswoman? She has yet to attack me, choosing instead only to defend. She shows a power to withstand each of my attacks thus far, and yet her guards do not step in? I… I do not understand. "As in 'pattern'?" Make sense, you enigma!

"Logic." She offers, her tone never wavering. She… she does not fear death. She does not look down upon me – insofar as I have surmised. I ought be wary of this one, she is… more than she presents herself to be.

Sheathing the wakizashi and katana in one go, I grab the sheathed katana in my left hand, preparing for what is apt to be my final strike. Even if I strike her down –my faith in that becoming reality dwindles by the second– there a four guarding her who would avenge her straightaway.

Iaido Beheading. She should not be able to see me move. I drop my shoulder, square my stance, and-

As I feared. She blocked with no effort at all. I cannot even rightly say I know how I landed in the dirt. Dishonour oft ends in death, though in the worst way. I close my eyes, accepting the hand fate dealt me. Mother, forgive me.

The sharp edge of her kodachi is placed at my throat. Placed. Carefully not drawing blood. I open my eyes, wondering why I yet draw breath. Something catches my eye. The curve of the blade. It goes the wrong way.

"Reverse-edged. Why? That's a defensive blade." I… I do not understand you. Make sense!

"I'm a medic. And my team's defensive fighter. It fits." No. That cannot be.

"Medics don't slaughter." They save lives wherever and whenever they can. You cannot be what you claim. You cannot!

"Namiki medics do." She says, still using that same bored yet musical tone. "And the next idiot that tries to bed me against my will, will receive the same or worse."

No. That… that makes too much sense to be a lie. Yet, what else could it be? The kodachi is withdrawn, its tip cutting into the flesh of my forearm. Her hand glows, my skin tingles, and the wound fades. It… no. This… this cannot be! "You… speak the truth." Nothing you say, nothing you do makes sense. Yet it is all unfiltered, unaltered truth!?

"Gee, you think." She says, almost drones. The singsong quality dissipating to show she truly is exasperated with this situation. "Now buzz off. I've got these idiots complaining enough about the blood I've spilled." With that, she rises, she walks away. She leaves me here.

That… no. This… why? I… I do not understand. "You would let me live?"

"Did I stutter? Go back to Three Wolves, samurai." Her irritation grows, her tone sours. I… I find myself missing her early way of speaking. And how does she know? How could she know?

"Aya, chocolate." The rotund one says. I… her guards speak so commonly with her? Why does this not upset her? I… who are you?

"I am no samurai. Just a wandering ronin." I try to collect myself, wondering at the hope that bubbles up within me at hearing that word… 'samurai'. It… seems like a lifetime ago.

"Only samurai even use the term 'ronin'." I wince, though I doubt she notices. She… seems to understand our ways, even if only casually. "Unsweetened pure chocolate." She almost sings once again, even as she sighs with her mouth filled with her guilty pleasure. They start to walk. As do I. I have nowhere better to go.

"A samurai has honour. I have none." Why, then, do I feel my heart craving to serve her? Who is this woman? She… she knows the true depths of honour. Her actions speak well of her in this regard. Though I shall not deny she spilled blood, she did not do so without just cause.

"That's nice." How is she so casual, so sure of herself and her standing? Who are you, Namiki Aya? "Hey, Chou? You're my cuddle bunny later. Try to weasel out of it and I'm never going to forgive you." Though she does not speak with a childish lilt, she speaks as a child would.

"Only if you wash down first. I'm not getting all that blood on my clothes. Mom would kill me." 'Chou' offers. I… I do not understand. Why does this one make less sense the more time passes.

She shrugs. "She'd understand if you tell her what happened. But I'll agree anyway. I feel icky." Again, she speaks as a child would. She… she intrigues me.

"Why not take a break now then?" He suggests. I cannot help but wonder at these two, their easy casualness of it all.

"No. I'm not washing down with a stalker behind us. I swear, ronins have no sense of self-preservation." I gaze at them, studying the lack of tension in their backs. "Come on!"

They dash off. I… What do I want? By no means would I rightly expect her to take me in. And yet… my feet follow her anyway.

8-8

Madness. This is madness. My mind has wandered off into some deep, dark place in the hole that was once filled by honour – or sustenance. Clearly, said mind has taken all reasoning with it. Why do I follow? I… I want to say my wish is to avenge the fallen. It isn't. The… the hunger in me, the yearning for true honour… it abates in her presence. That… that shouldn't happen.

She's a butcher, yet, she's a medic. She's a kunoichi, yet she's a little girl seeking comfort. She's a noble, yet she's a commoner. She lives by Bushido, yet she might well have never studied the texts or even cursorily glanced at them. She bested me in combat, yet I draw breath.

I am without honour, without purpose. Why, then, am I drawn to her? Truly, I am drawn to her. As a moth to flame. I am drawn, so I follow. I follow, yet I do not know her. I do not know her, yet my heart clings to her as a son to his mother. Verily, she will be cross with me. I know, yet I follow.

Namiki Aya. Just who are you?

8-8

"OI! I'm tempted to change my mind and kill you, you know! GO AWAY!" As I feared, she is cross with me.

"Saromi Yoshitoshi." I offer, praying she will not turn me away. I… I do not understand the reason. The reason matters not. I know that the hunger abates, and for now that is enough.

Her brow furrows in confusion. "… What?"

"My name. Is Saromi Yoshitoshi." Foolish heart! Desire nothing, expect nothing, and you shan't be disappoint. Why do you crave her approval?

"You're point." She demands. My heart wrenches, though I show nothing of my turmoil.

"It is common courtesy to introduce oneself by means of offering one's name, is it not?" I bow, finding… peace in the simple action. Yoshitoshi, old friend, you've truly gone off the deep end. You break the Saromi code of conduct, you're avowing yourself to a lady.

"Are you flirting with me?" She gives me a look to show she would be most cross if that were the case.

"I wouldn't dare, Namiki-dono. Your consort would be most cross with me, I should think." I sound more amused than I should be. The earth would sooner successfully woo the clouds in the sky.

Milady blinks, clearly making no more sense of this than I. There is no logic in the loyalty of a samurai, there is only loyalty itself. "Shika-nii, did I just end up with another overly loyal stalker for life?" She has servants, guards. I thought as much. A noble, through and through.

"Why are you asking me that?" The laconic one drawls, his eyes studying me closely. He is protective of her.

"You usually figure out people quickly. Ino?" Milady seems unsatisfied.

"It seems that way." The blonde… this 'Ino', seems amused. Highly amused.

"No. Just no. I have enough people like that in my life. Ino, you take this one!" Milady is displeased. Frightened almost. Why? What would frighten one such as her?

"My loyalty is not so frivolous as to be offered to one so easily." I point out. I could never avow myself to another, lest they still the hunger within me. Milady does this, the others do not. I cannot, will not, choose them over you, milady.

"Saromi, is it?" The fear overwhelms her. "You just all but swore an oath to guard me so long as you breathe. I'm in no mood. And I certainly do not have the need." She is lashing out.

If you understand my oath, please understand the hunger lingering within it. "Namiki-dono, pl-"

"What did I just say?" It's a wall. Her fear is seeded in people hurting her. What could have happened to you, milady? Who could have hurt you so deeply as to require such a defence?

"I cannot. Though the words never passed these lips, the oath has long been made, Namiki-dono." Please, milady. Please. I pray you, do not fear I would harm you.

"I am not royalty, Saromi! I am not a daimyo. I am not even a good person!" She claims, but her guards snort in disagreement. You are. You've done horrible things, this doesn't make you a horrible person.

"Your guards think otherwise. No matter how commonly they act with you, I sense their loyalty is no less than my own." I say, wondering at that myself. I do not –dare not– doubt my loyalty to her. This does not mean I understand it any better.

She ponders something. "Ah, but you seem to misunderstand, Saromi. You see, Shikamaru-nii here is the true royal. Heir to the Nara clan of Konoha. And currently without a guard of his own." Though I do not detect deceit, I do not care for it.

"You mix truth with lies, Namiki-dono. I thought it beneath you." I have nothing in this world that soothes the wound in my honour, heart, or soul. Lest you kill me, milady, I would not dare be disloyal to you.

"I do no such thing. Every word is true." She says. "The fact is that this team is nothing but royalty. Yamanaka Ino, heir to the Yamanaka clan. Nara Shikamaru, heir to the Nara clan. Akimichi Chouji, heir to the Akimichi clan. And Sarutobi Asuma, head of the Sarutobi clan. Each is far more deserving of your loyalty." Perhaps, but they do not affect me the same as milady.

"You think I should point out that she's the head of the Namiki clan?" Yamanaka-sama sounds amused, though her amusement irks milady in the worst way.

"… Have I offended you, my lady?" I pray not. My heart could not bear it.

"Saromi. Seriously. Shut it. Now." Akimichi-sama senses it; the fear, the storm raging within her. She's at war with herself. It's in her eyes, how she craves so desperately for so much that she is denied. So much she denies herself. Akimichi-sama wraps his arms around her middle, holding her close to him. The change is immediate. "Chou…" Though her tone speaks of warning, her eyes speak of gratitude.

"Just until you calm down. We need to get moving soon, and you need to see to your needs." His words are soothing, as is his tone, yet her eyes droop with disappointment. She craves him, in the worst way. "Just breathe."

She breathes. She closes her eyes, almost clenching them as if she wants to cry. She's… fragile. Emotionally, if nothing else. Is… is she fragile because of her deeds? Was what the situation demanded of her too steep a price to pay for a medic?

I question how well you know yourself. For truly, you… you are no butcher. Though capable, you lack the desire. You are a medic first and foremost, are you not, milady?

8-8

Sun is set, night rolls in. Milady's companions, Yamanaka-sama especially, have taken to teasing her mercilessly. I find myself amused with it all. Once I've seen to my needs, I return to camp, finding milady's eyes on me. She seems… conflicted.

I've seen her popping items out of thin air all day, so when she starts doing so and handing out things to the others I do not take much notice. However, when milady comes to me, when she hands me a bottle of water and a small package just as with the others, I… I'm moved beyond words. I'd eaten four days ago, so I have no need to hunt for another day or two.

Yet, milady tends to me in much the same way as she tends to them. To those she values and trusts. I… cannot fathom why I'm being cared for; unaccustomed as I am. Even at the 'height' of my stint in Three Wolves, the 'golden age' of my rebuffed existence there, I was but a servant. It was I who did the tending, it was I who did the serving.

Milady is still not pleased with me, this I know. She tends to me nonetheless.

Nodding to myself, I tear open the little package and bite into the bar within. Wow. That's bland. Utterly devoid of any hope of flavour or joy. Even unseasoned, deer meat has taste. This is… bland. Still, milady would be displeased should I spurn a meal she provided for me. Especially when she didn't have to.

I eat the bar quickly, wash it down with water. I see the others stuffing the wrapper into the bottle, so I follow suit. Then milady comes and collects the bottles and seals them away.

"You guys need your rest. I'll take watch." S-sarutobi-sama? Wh-why w-would…?

Clan heads, lords, ladies, they never would do such a thing. Offer the others to rest while they stand guard? Heresy. They would sooner curse and have someone beheaded for it.

"Asuma-san, really, I'm not eve-"

"Medics don't take watch, Aya, you know that." Shock. Utter disbelief. Not one, but two clan heads? And this from milady, who's clearly tired. I stare, trying to amend the world I once knew with this… this… whatever I find myself in.

"Saromi, please stop staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable." I look away, emotions warring with one another within me. "I'm going for my wash down. I'm tired of the blood on me. Ino?"

I… I stare at the katana beside me. I ponder the hand I'd been dealt, and how odd this hand is being played out. I… do not understand. Things that should not make sense, seem commonplace with milady. Things that should be commonplace, seem alien to her? How does she strike a balance between the two? Does she?

"Come, you need your rest." Akimichi-sama says. I look up, finding milady looking more the part. A peach furisode top, with long sweeping sleeves and a wolf gazing at its young under a cherry tree. Though I am confused by the leggings, does milady usually match her outfit to her inner duality? Is she aware on some level?

Milady curls up in Akimichi-sama's lap, letting him wrap her in a blanket to fend off the night's gentle chill. She falls asleep quickly, contrary to her proclamation that she isn't tired.

"Saromi-san?" I look at Akimichi-sama, wondering what he needs with me. "Why are you really here?"

I smile, looking up at the moon as it shines through the leaves. "Akimichi-sama need not worry. Milady only has eyes for him. And one such as I? Birds only land on the dirt when they will it, so you need not be troubled by my presence."

"A wolf is loyal to a fault." He says. "So I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about you. Why are you willing to follow someone you've never met?"

I smile, seeing silvery light dancing among the leaves. "I do not know. Milady is… more than she lets on. She is… she quells a hunger long wanting to consume me."

"'Hunger'?" He sounds curious, though not worried. I'm thankful.

"For honour." I say. He inquires no further.

8-8

We approach the gates of a village. There are doors large than most building I've yet seen, with 'hermitage' or 'retreat' marked on them in a worn red that I'm fairly certain was once festive. Once we've entered, on the left side there is a little guard box with two gentlemen on watch. "You found another one, Namiki?" One of them calls to milady. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to understand how he would dare to be so familiar with her. Yet, she doesn't seem to notice.

"Don't remind me. I'll take him to Senju-san to sort him out. His name's Saromi Yoshitoshi. Originally from the Land of Iron." I'm not the first, am I, milady? That is what you meant. You've brought others to safety, have you not?

"Under Namiki protection, I take it?" The other gentleman asks. He seems amused? What has milady been up to that two guards are so amused with her? Milady grumbles –most unladylike– and walks on ahead. I keep in step with her. "Careful, Namiki! Silence is almost always a yes with you!" There is laughter in his tone. I furrow my brow, trying to make sense of things – a new pastime it would seem.

We barely make it five paces before two stroll up to milady. Two women. They look upset. "Tsu, Tomi, I don't want to hear it." Milady intones, obviously understanding their plight before any words are offered.

"A country." The tall one with black hair and white eyes is quite cross with her. Well and truly upset.

"I don't. Want. To hear it." Milady seems just as cross, though not with this one. I'd wager she's more upset with the situation.

"A country!? You go with Chouji's team to keep an eye on him and come back the conqueror of a country!?" Her guards. These two are her guards. They are upset milady went without them.

"Tomi, if I knew it would go down like that, I'd have brought a far more specialised team. I didn't because it shouldn't have happened. Now quit it." Milady is quite interesting. A truly loyal guard would never allow such a thing to go undiscussed.

"Aya. A country! You overthrow a country and you expect me to 'drop it'? SERIOUSLY!?" I thought as much. She is loyal to milady, without question.

I find myself quite enjoying how the tall one frets over milady, how she worries for her. Though, I find myself more curious at the silver-haired one, who is studying me as if I am a wild boar and she guards a garden. Does she think I could possibly harm milady? Lack of desire notwithstanding, I am quite incapable of it. She bested me succinctly; I wonder if I'd last a second had we actually fought.

Still. Milady leads, I follow.

8-8

The one called 'Tomi' does not let up the entire thirty-five minute walk to an important looking building. Nor does she let up the twelve minutes we walk within said building. Only when she refers to me as a 'stray', when I bristle at the descriptor, only then does milady speak up.

Both guards are put in their place, but not in a vehement or even capricious way. 'Tomi' is ordered to take me shopping? 'Tsu' is ordered to keep guard? I fail to see the punishment behind this, and yet they both whimper pitifully? "Consider your lack of shopping punishment for not helping me when Tomi was on my case."

Milady is concise in her dealings with people. She knows where to strike to get the desired effect, but only does so when she needs to. Milady enters the room, 'Tsu' stands guard without question, and 'Tomi' motions for me to follow her?

I… milady is…

"Move it, Saromi." I'm ordered. I nod, keeping in step with her.

She takes me to a place with masked guards. I'm instructed to wait, and she returns ten minutes later. I half feared she'd forsaken me, not something I would not have expected even in Three Wolves. And yet, she returns. She studies me.

"Saromi Yoshitoshi." I offer, bowing to her. "I assure you, I am no threat to milady."

She does not respond immediately, though I dare not guess why. "Walk with me." She demands, already walking ahead. Only once we are alone does she continue. "Physically, I do not doubt you. As you have no doubt ascertained, Aya is emotionally far more fragile than most would guess."

"As you say." I agree.

"I'll not mince words with you, samurai." I do not react to that word. She'll no doubt be of the same mind as milady, mixing 'samurai' with 'ronin' almost casually. "Aya is Tsu's and mine to guard. We will kill you in a heartbeat if we suspect you would think to harm her. Whether physically, mentally, or emotionally. Do you understand?"

"I do." I nod. I suspected as much from the beginning. "As I said, I am not threat to her."

"This includes taking advantage of her generosity. She is too kind for her own good… always has been." I'm told, though not informed.

"She is." I agree. "A medic to her very core."

"You've been studying her. Why?"

"I do not understand her. She is… almost two puzzles with its pieces jumbled together." I admit. "She… she slaughtered in that city, and though that didn't bother her at first… it weighs on her."

"Nn." She is most troubled by this.

"This isn't the first time." I don't ask, I don't need to. The answer is obvious as noonday sun.

We walk into the village, into a clothing store. I'm instructed to buy what I need. "I have little need." I say, being entirely honest. Judging the situation differently, she instructs me to pick out four outfits. "I… have only even worn kimonos." So I'm taken to another clothing store, this one with kimonos. I go into the men's section, into the very back where the discount kimonos are, into the komon kimono section – everyday kimonos.

"Saromi-san. Don't. Aya will be upset with me for letting you." I'm told. I… have no idea how to respond to that. "Look around, I'll be right back." And she is, once again. She comes back with another. "Tsuchi Kin, Saromi Yoshitoshi… the new stray."

"She picked up another one?" That seems to be common knowledge around here.

"Yes, and don't get on her case about it. I got stuck with shopping for it."

"Mi-chan, really? And you didn't come straight to me?"

"You are more than friends." I observe.

"Lovers. What of it?" I blink. "Namiki Hitomi, by the way." I blink again. Milady is… so much more than I'd first expected. "Kini-kins, he needs four outfits. He only wears kimonos, and I'm not going to get Aya on my case because he dared to shop in the discount section."

"Ooh… Yeah, Aya-chan would be pissed if he were to wear anything like that. Come on, you. I'll get you sorted out."

8-8

I'm brought before an important blonde, who mostly seems amused with me. Not even curious, just amused. Milady explains what little she knows about me, though I am curious that I am asked nothing. Her only demand is that I be brought in 'for processing'. Obviously this woman is the head of the village.

Milady takes me down to an out of the way section of the same building, where she speak with a secretary, explaining the situation. She informs the woman that I am not to be shackled at all, that may still bear arms, and that this is just pro forma. Then milady leads me down a hall to holding cells. The secretary unlocks an empty one, and I am motioned inside.

As the door gently closes behind me, I wonder. Twice has Hitomi-sama been in a position to abandon me, yet she has not. Now milady brings me to an informal prison? "I will bring your meals myself. Eat nothing I do not bring. Drink nothing I do not bring. You would not be the first poisoned in these cells." Milady warns cautiously. I nod. "You will be asked about a lot of things, Saromi. Tell no lies, hold nothing back. I cannot help you if you do." Again I nod.

And then… nothing. She's gone. I look around the little cell, wondering at the situation I now find myself in. Mostly, I wonder about milady. She is… so many things. Her guards are so protective of her, no doubt having studied the mystery milady shrouds herself in far longer than I.

8-8

The sun is set. A guard comes bearing dinner, but as per milady's instruction I do not accept it. "If you do not eat it, I'm not bringing anything else for you." I'm warned.

"That is acceptable." I'm unsure if milady wishes me to divulge her instructions, yet she did ask I tell no lies and hold nothing back. "Milady instructed me to await her. That she would provide my meals."

"Namiki Aya, you mean? She gave me this for you." I sense no deceit, and yet I find it untruthful. Milady might send one of her guards, perhaps a servant of hers. To simply hand it off to a common guard when she fears poisoning? No, milady would never.

"Then I shall ask her when next I see her." I do not ask for the guard's name, but I do notice he's covered in scars and keeps his scalp completely covered with a headband bearing this village's insignia. I wonder at the trench coat, but do not inquire.

The man leaves without another word.

8-8

Two and a half hours later, milady has returned. She comes bearing a tray with quite the meal. Rice, sautéed beef, two different kinds of salad, and two sticks of dango. She also bears tea. Herself. Her guards hang back, choosing not to interfere with milady's dealings.

I…'ve never met anyone quite like her. And yet, I sense something troubling her. "Is everything alright?" I ask, accepting the tray from her.

"I'm fine." She claims; she's a poor liar. "Please, eat up. It'll get cold otherwise."

I nod, setting the tray on the bunk of my cell. I taste every dish, enjoying each more than the last. And this isn't just hunger… this is well prepared. The rise is just soft enough and sticky, lightly salted. The beef is tender and juicy, lightly seasoned and mildly spicy. One salad has bits of chicken, the other has diced eggs and tofu. She… she was prepared for if I'm vegetarian?

Even long after I've had my fill, I find myself wanting to eat it all. This is the kind of food I've often seen the elite of Three Wolves eating – I can tell just by the scent.

With every morsel had, I sip at the tea. Chamomile, with a hint of jasmine. "Was it good?" Milady asks.

"I've never had so satisfying a meal. Thank you." I say honestly. "My compliments to the chef."

"You're quite welcome." She seems amused?

"Milady's cooking?" I wonder aloud.

"Nn. I… missed dinner myself, and I never did like Yasu-nee having to cook twice." She explains. I… I've just eaten a meal cooked by milady herself.

8-8

The sun has only just risen when the same man comes back. He tries offering me breakfast, but I turn him down once again. So he unlocks the cell door, instructing that I follow. I wonder at the lack of tray with him this time; he knew I would turn him down.

I'm led into a room with two chairs but no table. I sit on the ground, carefully setting the katana beside me. The questions begin immediately. I explain all I can. My history, that man's dishonour and his dishonouring me. My time wandering, though I dare offer no dates or timeframes.

"Why not? Do you not know how long you've wandered?" He asks.

"I do not. I've not seen winter, more I dare not say." I explain.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" He asks. His tone never wavers, ever neutral.

"Milady would be most cross with me if I should dare." I say honestly. "It would be unseemly, given how gracious a hostess she's been thus far."

"You're in a cell."

"I am." I agree wholly. "And yet, milady sees to my meals as if I were daimyo-sama himself. Yet milady tends to me personally each time. I've… never met anyone quite like her."

"Are you in love with her?" He asks.

"No. I dare not allow romantic feelings to bloom. One such as I? Lowly as I? Dishonoured as I? The sun would sooner rise in the west."

"And if you were to be exalted? Honoured? What then?" He presses. I wonder about that. Though unlikely, he does not question the probability, merely the prospect.

"Then I would love her like a son ought love his mother. Like a brother ought love his sister." I offer seriously. I am but a lowly ronin. Cast aside by those I once served, by those I once loved. I would not risk complicating milady's life, or frustrating her efforts.

8-8

Milady enters the room soon enough. Herself, once again, with her two familiar guards. I listen as she speaks with the man, but dare not interrupt. One must never interrupt his lord or lady whilst he enjoys breathing.

"Saromi, you coming?" I nod solemnly. I grab the katana and stand, following without a word. I make sure to bow to the man, though I still do not know his name – not really, since we've yet to be introduced. He seems on friendly terms with milady, it would not do to upset him.

Once outside, milady explains what is to happen. "The first thing we need to do is register you properly. You are a warrior, as such you will be registered as a shinobi under the Namiki clan. You will not be required to take missions, but this allows that you may. It also gives me the leeway to oversee your training and I will warn you from right now, Saromi, I have high expectations of every member of my pack."

"I understand." I assure her, my tone solemn as a bow my head to her. "I assure you, I will not disappoint."

"Good. After your registration, we are taking you to the blacksmith's. You're swords haven't been properly cared for, Saromi. That kind of thing will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" She sounds… worried? I understand her words, but her reasons are a mystery to me.

"I do. Forgive me, milady."

"Nothing to forgive, just don't let it happen again. Are you particularly attached to these swords?" She continues.

As attached as any broken man is to his cast. "No, milady."

"Why is that?" She presses. She seems inquisitive, though not intrusively so.

"… My blades were… broken, milady." And my honour with it.

"I see. Your blood swords." She understands some of samurai culture, it seems. Much more than a laymen, but not so much as a samurai would.

"Yes, milady." Though it did not hurt at the time, the wound has bled freely ever since.

"Then we will have new blades forged. The proper way, to honour your ways."

Hitomi-sama's words echo in my mind… milady truly is generous. "As milady wishes." Yes, I would value new blood blades, but it is what they represent that stirs every emotion within me. Honour. She would honour me.

"Does this daisho set bear bad memories?" She leaves no stone unturned, it would seem.

Far too many. The folly of that man, his senselessness towards mother's clan, and his ridiculing of all things I value. "… It does, milady."

"Bad enough for me to want to never see them again?" Yes.

"Milady need not trouble herself with these matters." I fight back the tears.

"That's not how I am, Saromi. If you want to be part of our pack, you refuse the right to hide from us. Now answer the question." I see now why everyone is so fiercely loyal to you, milady. You hardly know me. Yet I do not feel cast aside in any way.

"… There is a custom… When a samurai is disgraced, his swords are… broken… and he is given a… broken daisho to symbolise this."

"I see."

8-8

True to her word, I'm registered under the Namiki clan. I briefly wonder if she wishes me to take a new name – such is the custom should one's loyalties change. Though I dare not speak up. Milady is so busy arranging things that I do not wish to burden her with yet another.

I sign as where I'm told to, trusting milady blindly. Or I try to. "You will read it first. I don't care how much you trust me, you will sign nothing without reading it thoroughly. Not now, not ever." She demands. Even with something as simple as this. Milady does not suffer fools or blind followers; noted. I go over everything carefully, correcting the kanji and katakana of my name, briefly wondering if that was why 'Satomi' became 'Saromi' in ages past.

Once I'm satisfied, I sign the forms and hand them to the clerk. We leave immediately, milady is used to being efficient, it would seem.

She leads, I follow. All the while noticing the warm smiles milady receives from the people. Milady is well liked.

As we enter the blacksmith's, milady is quick to get his attention. Once she does, she turns to me. "Saromi, your blades." M-milady! How… how could I hope to guard you without them!? She holds her hands out, palms horizontal and facing the ceiling. I focus on my breathing, trying not to panic. Milady's will is clear. I take the katana, offering it to her. I do not hesitate, but I fear she might become cross for my jerky motions. The second I release the katana, "Both of them."

I… feared as much. I take deep breaths, trying to soothe my frayed nerves. Grabbing the wakizashi, I focus with all my might to will away the tremble in my hands. Broken honour is not much, but it is what little I have.

"With this, you offer me your broken honour. Is that correct?" I nod sullenly. She understands, yet she does so? "Good. Blacksmith, I would have you repair these blades. Have them fitted for storage. Repair his broken honour." Milady offers the daisho to the blacksmith, but I… I… am overwhelmed. Repair my broken honour? That man… from this morning… he knew. He knew milady would do this. "As well, I will need new blades for him, worthy of him. Forged as a true samurai's blades should be."

A… a samurai's blades? Blood blades? Breathing isn't as easy as it was a moment ago.

"Of course." The blacksmith bows his head formally, taking a notepad for the order.

"He will need a set of four. A katana, a wakizashi and twin kodachis. All reverse-edged. Of a chakra conducting metal, of course. What alloy would you recommend for a samurai?" Samurai… She would see me as a samurai? And reverse-edged blades? A guard. She would see me as her guard.

"Nectar of the Kami." Breath stills. Heart stills. Nectar of the Kami? The highest honour for any samurai honour guard. Not even Mifune-sama bears a blade of this alloy! "An alloy reserved for the guards of royalty. A bit pricey, but if anything is worthy of the samurai you have with you, this is."

"Very well. I will trust you to pick a proper sheath, colour and style befitting my honour guard, blacksmith. He is of the Namiki now." Words fail. I am of the Namiki? Her honour guard?

"Then he will need a new name. A samurai takes a new name when he takes a new master."

Milady turns to me, thoughts racing through her eyes. She has the most expressive eyes. "From this day forth, you will be Namiki Keito. 'Kei' meaning 'respect'. 'To' meaning 'person'."

Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe. "As milady wishes." I bow, I breathe. I fight back the tears with all my might. "Then I, Namiki Keito, offer you my life. From this day forth, I am yours to command, Aya-dono." I will follow you, milady. Lead me where you will.

"I accept you oath, and will honour it." She says, her tone solemn. I right myself, subtly trying to pinch myself to see if this is truly happening. "In turn, I will need you armed, Keito." She… she's taking her own blades! Her kodachis! HERS! She offers them to me. "Until your new blades are ready, you will wield mine. Guard me well, Keito."

"With my life." With my every breath, milady. 'Tsu' taps me while milady is busy, offering me straps for milady's blades. Our eyes meet, for a fleeting moment, before she decides to strap milady's kodachis to my forearms herself. The blacksmith asks me from where I would let my blood. The Saromi always used the right wrist, but I am Saromi no longer. "Where would milady prefer?"

"Allow me." She takes my right hand, an alcohol swath appearing out of nowhere, and she taps the tip of my index finger with a needle. The blood is collected on a paper, and she quickly heals my trivial injury.

8-8

Milady proudly explains at the registrar's my need to reregister, and to burn the earlier forms. We happen upon the man from earlier, she once again happily explains my new name and the reasons for it. I… glow a little brighter each time.

Keito. Respectable person. She does not offer me a chance to belittle myself; naming me something that already introduces me as respectable.

Soon we enter the office from yesterday. The 'hokage's office. Milady once again happily explains my new name, and the reasons behind it. Tears well up, seeing her gladly taking up her village leader's time to explain something like this.

"That's our Aya for you." Hokage-sama says, sounding amused. "Welcome to Konoha, Keito."

"Thank you, Hokage-sama." I bow politely to her. Though not my lady, she is one that even milady honours – in her own way.

"Ah. Before I forget. I've taken the liberty of picking a headband for you." Hokage-sama says, still sounding quite entertained. She reaches into a drawer and retrieves a red headband, similar to milady's. I accept it reverently, as the situation would well dictate.

I start to wonder. "How… should I wear it?" I ask milady.

"It's your headband." Milady sounds amused as well now. "Most wear it on their foreheads. Shika-nii wears it on his right arm. Lee wears his as a belt. I've seen people wearing theirs like bandanas, some even backwards. It's about what you want."

"Around the neck?" I wonder, glancing at her headband and how she wears it.

"Mostly a girl thing, that's why I didn't suggest it. I won't care if you want to." She explains seriously. I ponder my options, wondering which is best.

"What if we make it a Namiki thing?" Hitomi-sama wonders. I look on as both Hitomi-sama and Kin-sama wrap their headbands around their necks, much like milady.

"What do you know, I'm a trendsetter." Milady seems pleased. No, she is pleased. Her little smile says as much – though she's more amused. Hnn… when in Rome. I tie it around my neck as well, then look to her for approval. She smiles again, just for me this time. "It suits you, Namiki Keito." Namiki Keito. The novelty of that name doesn't wear off, I don't think.

"Now come on. I'm sure there will be another meeting soon just for the sake of annoying me. And we still need to introduce you to the pack." The pack. Our pack. Cast out from Three Wolves, thrown to the wolves. Mother, I'm becoming a wolf. Though I'll not lead the pack, I shall be of it.

Lead, milady. This wolf shall follow you wherever you go.

8-8

End Deleted Chapter 3

8-8

A/N: And so, Keito fans, we have Keito's past dredged up for the first, but not the last time ^_^ We shall see why I say that. As for why this never made it pass the cutting board? Well, that's really simple. Keito sees Aya too well. It would have ruined most of the suspense I wanted to keep hidden until the time was right.