The Storm

Xiao stared at his dead sister, shaking with tears. Kiku was in another room, asleep. Yao was waiting for them.

The urn was in the center of Mei's room. The bed was gone, leaving the blue and red vase alone in the quiet shadows. Xiao knew it was her. He had arrived from scouting. He saw the blood. He saw Lin washing her knife. Kiku had slept through it. She must not have screamed.

Xiao kneeled before the urn. The ashes of what she once was rested in the ceramic depths. How Yao cremated her so quickly? Xiao began to question everything, looking for any possible way to get more time. Then again, the blood had long hardened and Xiao saw Lin running the cloth over the bloodied blade several hours before. In that time he hadn't seen Yao.

His heart was heavy.

He needed more time.

He needed to atone.

Why, in her life, had he been so cruel to her? Why had he insulted her, like an older brother usually did? He should have known in their precarious situation that she could die. He should have known, but he didn't. He had foolishly believed her innocence to protect her. The nascence of her vigor proved him wrong. Why didn't he talk to her?

Why couldn't he do anything right?

Xiao lowered his face into his hands and wept. He wept. Heavy tears slid down his face, wetting his palms. He didn't know what his sister wanted to do to get her in so much trouble. He didn't know…

But that didn't mean he couldn't find out.

He stood and trailed towards the back room, where Yao held meetings. He took a glance through the split between the doors, seeing the blurry form of Lin, her long hair swishing as she moved. He slipped away from the doors, moving towards Kiku's room. He slid the door open and lithely stepped in.

Kiku slept soundly, his back to him. He hadn't changed out of his clothing yet. Xiao could still smell the stench of blood and see the hardened scar across his back. Xiao wrinkled his nose and went to the corner of the room, crouching. He ran his fingers along the wall, seeking out a seam he knew had to be there. He had seen Kiku delicately apply a blade to it, making a place where he could spy. The moment hadn't arisen for him. Not until now, and Xiao would steal it.

Crouching, Xiao pressed his ear to it. He heard the conversation, most of it anyway. The words were muffled and stolen by the threads making up the walls.

"…did I have to stab here? Poison could have worked too."

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it, Lin." Xiao heard Yao retort.

"The girl was an annoying brat." Lin agreed, "But it was a messy ordeal. Her brother now knows and when your Ghost wakes up, he'll notice the silence. He may be thankful first but he will notice eventually that something's wrong. What will you say then? Will you convince him that he had slept through a murder he could have prevented and make him guilty of a crime not his own?"

Yao paused. Xiao could imagine the old bag of lies and deceit grin. "And cause him to fall into a depression for a few days? He'd be rendered useless and our time is far too limited to that. I thought you would be at least somewhat more competent."

Lin muttered something Xiao couldn't pick up.

"And what is your end goal with all of this?" Lin snapped suddenly. "Who do you expect to please with killing your own child?"

"Firstly, child, you are only haranguing me for my 'fault' to repent for your murder. Secondly, you know very well what force I need to please: the storm."

Lin's footsteps scuffled against the grown. Xiao conjectured she had began to pace in impatience. Fabric rustled: her hands were thrown in the air. "I knew you would say that, father, but that was a story you scared us with in our childhood. You expect this to be a joke? I don't find your anecdote the least bit amusing."

"You've seen the storm, Thousand Face, the Fog, the Master." Yao said bitterly. "Do you make up with all your short-comings by blaming your father?"

"You are hardly my father but a protector."

"And the difference between the two: what is it?"

"I do not carry your wicked blood."

"That is very true. You carry your own."

"You refuse to acknowledge my comments on your… On your…" She faltered.

"When you find the right word, feel free to tell me. Your Chinese is becoming weak, I fear."

"It was never my native tongue."

Their argument grew in tension and continued to lose meaning. Xiao's thighs burned from his crouching. He straightened his legs and shook them. He knew he could get nothing out of this, except that all his suspicions of Yao's inner evil had been confirmed. Even Lin, the headstrong, but disciplined woman had called him out on his crimes.

Had his sister done something against Yao's plan? That seemed to be the case. Well, if Mei started the idea, Xiao would take it and continue it. He, however, couldn't afford to be stabbed in the back. He would have to be careful.

Kiku shifted, starting awake to find the shadow in his room. He reached for his twin knives and prepared to pounce on Xiao.

Xiao, not turning towards him, raised his hand and waved it. "Don't worry, Kiku." He whispered, "I am no longer here to hurt you. I am here to help." He turned and approached Kiku. He kneeled before Kiku's startled, weary face.

Kiku's hair was loose, flowing around his shoulders.

"Listen close," Xiao hissed, "Yao is out against you. I was, too, before I knew better. He's not a bad man but he's been influenced by something bad." The storm or whatever that is, Xiao thought but did not voice, "So I want to help you. I'm not going to do this out of any personal favors or any liking to you, mind you. I'm doing this because of Mei."

"Mei?" Kiku questioned. "What happened?"

Xiao stood, signaling for him to follow. Kiku set aside his blades and moved silently into the hall. Xiao pushed Mei's doors open and bowed his head solemnly. Kiku saw the urn in Mei's room and anger seized him. His face paled.

"Do you see?" Xiao asked.

Kiku nodded.

Xiao reached into his belt loop and produced his small, thin dagger. He raised it, his shadow spilling on to the wall. Kiku began to move into defense, but his muscles sagged with sorrow. He still couldn't process the girl's murder. Xiao grabbed Kiku and pulled him forwards, sweeping up his long hair in a fist. He poised the knife and with a single strike, lopped off the length.

Black hair fluttered to the ground, like fallen leaves. Kiku began to rise. The long strands littered the ground and his head felt lighter. The burden, both physical and symbolic, had been removed from his shoulders. He still had a little but too much left. Xiao handed him the dagger hilt-first. He took it and cut the hair back into the way it had been before, silently. They cared not for the debris they created in the hall.

Kiku cut his bangs and cut the hair around his cheeks. Once finished and pleased with the result, seeing his old self and not the hardened assassin of before, both made by quick, brash decisions, Kiku smiled. Xiao took the blade back and slid it into his belt.

"Do we run now?" Kiku asked.

"I saw we kill Yao." Xiao proclaimed, but his eyes were hardened.

Kiku lowered his eyes. "That would be killing a spider that held the web together. It would all fall apart."

"Then what do you do? I didn't plan this far?" Xiao's cheeks lit up in shame.

Slowly, Kiku began to grin. His eyes flickered towards Xiao, who gave him a puzzled glare. "Xiao, do you trust me at all?"

"I… ah, I…"

"Honestly, think about it. Do you trust me? Have I hurt you any time between now and when I fought you before the okiya?"

Xiao shook his head. Slowly, he consented. "Yes, I trust you."

"Then follow me."

END