Xander hit the mat on the library floor hard enough to drive air from his lungs, and decided maybe lying there wasn't such a bad idea. "Ow..."

Akira prowled the mat like a cranky tiger; Xander could feel it in how the rubbery fabric bounced under his head. "Did anyone ever teach you to fight?"

Xander raised a hand against the lead weight of gravity, and waved a sardonic finger. "We don't all get to grow up in the land of karate and ninja-babes."

"The closest I ever came to a ninja-babe was Aya on the disciplinary committee, and she wanted to be a samurai." Akira stopped by his right side, not even breathing hard. "And if I know any karate, it's by accident. Kou taught me to brawl, and fight dirty. Lucky for me. Shin are a lot stronger than humans." He reached down.

Sighing, Xander gripped the offered hand, letting Akira help pull him up. You're no slouch, either.

Not that Akira was anywhere near Slayer levels of strength. Xander had never seen the other guy put a fist through anything, yet. But he could heft up a solid teenager to his feet with barely a yank, and as for actual fighting... argh. Giles had lent them weighted practice knives, "So you can get it out of your system," he'd muttered to Xander.

Which hadn't made a lick of sense at the time. Akira had slashed weird steel around like it was nothing. How hard could it be?

Half an hour later, wrists and arms feeling like blistered rubber, Xander had to admit the answer might be very. "How - ow. How the heck did you make fighting Angel look easy?"

"Easy?" Akira looked at him like he suspected Xander had landed on his head, not his back. "Did you miss the part where he threw me across the hall?"

On the sidelines with a weird Japanese text and a first-aid kit, Giles smothered a chuckle. At least, Xander hoped it was a chuckle. If it was a snigger in front of Willow and Buffy, he and the G-man were having words.

"It wasn't easy," Akira went on, shaking out his wrists a bit. "And that was an ambush, not a fight. In a fair fight he would have killed me."

"Which would be why human Hunters of the supernatural tend to avoid fighting fair," Giles noted. "Thank you, Xander; I've seen part of what I needed. You'd best step off... and shake some feeling back into your hands."

"Hey!" Xander protested. His hands were just fine. Maybe a bit blistered and hurty, but fine.

"I'll probably need you to drag me off after she's done," Akira muttered, eyeing Buffy as the blonde gleefully cracked her knuckles and headed for the mat.

Ouch. Japanese guy had a point. Xander scurried off to scoot up by Willow against the wall, both of them watching Buffy as she circled.

Three fast swipes, at least one of which bounced off an interposed blade. A punch. More slashes. A leg-swipe Akira barely hopped over, followed by a high kick-

Xander's toes curled in a sympathetic cringe, and he scrunched closer to the wall. Oh, that last one had to hurt.

Only instead of curling around his pain like any sane man would, Akira turned it into an over the shoulder roll that came up with a shimmer of translucent silver-

Buffy broke right, away from the all-too-real blade suddenly in Akira's hand. The teen broke left.

Rolled to his knees, and stopped, pale and shaking. "Sumimasen. S-sorry. Too close."

"Groinshots equal someone's trying to kill me." Buffy looked a little pale herself. "Got it." She stood up, color coming back into her face as she bounced on her toes. "So where'd you hide those? You have a fashion tip for carrying sharp and pointy so it doesn't mess with your shirt lines? Give!"

Akira blinked. Looked at her. At his hands. At his audience.

Groaned, shoulders slumping, and muttered something in Japanese. Xander was pretty sure he caught the word baka.

I'm an idiot, Xander guessed. Thank goodness for Jesse and late nights with anime, or he wouldn't even have a clue about that much.

Wait. Something was wrong about this situation.

"Where'd they go?" Willow was on her feet, looking curious and not at all as disturbed as regular people should be when sharp and pointy vanished without warning. "The air kind of rippled, and - they're gone."

"So either somebody figured out a mini-invisible that works on things instead of people, or magic," Xander summed up.

"You've got magic knives?" Buffy looked like a sale on shoes. "Giles! When do I get magic pointies?"

"Er." Watcher-man took off his glasses, obviously trying to stall while he figured out a good answer. "Those who make enchanted weaponry tend to be very sought after. And highly paranoid."

"You forgot sadistic." Akira held up a hand, flattened as if for stop; tapped it with a finger, pointing to a faint white line of scar. "I don't think you'd want one of those knives, Buffy. The cost is a lot higher than you'd think."

"Um." Buffy straightened, pulling back a step. "Is that what I think it is?"

Akira shrugged, face a twitch away from a smirk. "Body piercing the hard way?"

"And this is why I hate being right," Buffy grumbled. "Isn't there any nice magic out there?"

"Very little." Giles settled his glasses back on his nose. "However, given I should be able to call Master Wagatsuma this weekend, I'll see if there's anything less dangerous he can suggest. In the meantime - if Spike makes a habit of large-scale assaults, it behooves all of us to brush up on hand-to-hand skills."

Willow meeped. Xander felt like meeping right along with her. "Don't you mean running and hiding skills?" Xander tried.

"School doesn't have enough hiding places," Buffy said grimly.

"I still need to build up my endurance to run." Akira was looking at him with an expression Xander couldn't quite recognize...

No, wait. I know that one. That's Buffy with vamps and a handful of fresh No. 2s. Oh boy.

"What's that saying you have in English?" Akira smirked, and cracked his knuckles. "This will hurt you more than it hurts me?"

Wait, that's not how it's supposed to go-!

"Ow..."

Akira flicked a glance over to where Xander was curled up against a mausoleum, then turned his attention back to the thin red-black rent in the air. He'd told the teen to put some ice on everything and rest. But Xander apparently didn't want to go home, so here they were; in a graveyard just after dark, with Willow hanging over an ex-shin's shoulder squinting at the tear, Xander propped up against a nearby tomb, Giles back at his car with books, and Buffy chasing a hapless blue demon that had tried to take a bite out of her.

"Two words!" Buffy fell back, coiling her legs to fling the charging demon over her head. "Breath mints!"

"Rrrraugh!"

...And Akira's sense of the tear sealing skittered again, as Willow glanced back over her shoulder, salt-touched hands clenched into fists. "Don't look at her," Akira said steadily. "Look at the tear."

"B-but, Buffy is-"

Rock grated against rock, as Buffy snatched up the head from a broken angel statue and let fly. "Strike one!"

"Rrraugh-owwwl!"

"Handling the situation," Akira stated, reaching out to the hole in the boundary again. "She has her job. We have ours. Try again."

"O-okay." Willow gulped a breath, determination keeping her from trembling. "Our hands - our hands are..."

"The healers of zero," Akira murmured with her, reaching for shadows to weave them whole. Willow seemed to have a faint grasp on light, better to leave that side to her.

Steel screeched out of concrete footings, and a cemetery bench clanged against inhuman bone. "Strike two!"

"Yowwwwl!"

"Light must, must stay in light," Willow stammered.

"And dark in dark- down!" Akira grabbed her and dove.

A blue-bleeding demon hurtled through where they'd been, claws striking sparks off the tomb.

There was a Xanderish yelp. And a squish.

"Strike three," Buffy said gleefully as she bounced over, bending to yank her friend out from under dissolving demon. "You're out of there."

"Oh, well done." Giles caught up with the rest of them, book in hand and a look of relief on his face. "Excellent strike, Xander. The throat is the vulnerable spot on this type."

"Yuck." Xander eyed the blue-spattered stake still clutched in his hand, and dropped it. "Okay. Maybe not as gross as She-Mantis eggs. But still yuck."

Getting up, Akira dusted himself off, then dusted off Willow's knees as she winced with an energy headache; ducking her head would hurt. "She-Mantis?"

"Oh, that was awful," Willow lamented. "She pretended to be this hot teacher and she had cheating pheromones that twisted all the boys around, because she was looking for boys who were still-"

"Willow!" Xander wasn't beet-red yet, but he was getting there.

"And I said I'd never mention it again," Willow moaned. "Sorry, Xander. My head..."

"Sealing the boundary takes a lot of energy," Akira stepped in, before either of the two might say something they regretted later. "The first few times are like pulling an all-nighter. You get-" Damn it. He knew the right words in Japanese. "Something like... tired and silly?"

"I believe the term you might be searching for is punch-drunk." Giles tucked his book under his arm, watching the demon dissolve. "I'm familiar with the phenomenon from spellcasting. Manipulating energy outside of yourself always takes a bit of your own."

Akira mouthed the phrase, testing the words for meaning. "Something like that."

"But the tear is sealed?" Giles glanced back to where it had been.

"For now. Unless something else weakens the boundary here." Akira drifted his fingers through the air, trying to tease out any of the ominous vibration that would ring through a shin's spirit when something crossed the boundary. "It was easier than sealing it alone. But it was tricky."

"Oh?" Giles gave Buffy a quick pat-down of arms and shoulders, accepted her sigh and rolled eyes of I'm fine. "How so?"

"It was like trying to grab two kinds of mist, all mixed together." Willow rubbed her hands over each other, eyes bright with wonder. "I was trying to get all the warm mist, and... Akira just swooped all of the cold away. And we just - kind of pushed it back where it belonged."

"Willow has an affinity for light energies," Akira nodded. "I know other light adepts; I can ask if they know anything that will help..."

Why was everyone staring at him?

"If warm's light, I'm guessing cold is shadow," Buffy noted.

"And you said that Ryuuko guy was a rei," Xander put in. "Which makes no sense whatsoever."

Don't flinch. "I told you he couldn't use all of his power," Akira shrugged. "I'm just glad my feeling was right about Willow. There aren't many people with the potential to be adepts."

"Yes; it would be useful to have something more than a hunch to identify potential allies," Giles mused. "I'll have to ask Master Wagatsuma when I call him."

"A dowsing pendulum?" Ensconced in his own chair at home, for once, Giles made yet another note. "I suppose sometimes the old ways are the best."

"I can send you something with imbued shadow," Shuichi stated. "For now, you can use the salt for a process of elimination. If the pendulum pulls toward the salt, you have a light affinity. If it does nothing, there's no affinity. And if it pulls away-"

"A shadow affinity," Giles concluded. "I see." He hesitated, wondering how much he was risking with these next words. "And what would happen if I handed Akira that pendulum?"

A pause. "You already know he has a shadow affinity."

"Oh, indeed," Giles agreed. "He tries to hide it, but your salt seems to make him itch violently. Willow has no such reaction. Which is what makes the situation so very curious. Given Ryuuko was a rei."

"Giles..."

When all else fails, bring out a bigger hammer. "Buffy told me that if I would trust you to heal her, I had her permission to tell you who she is," Giles said gravely. "I am watching over the current Slayer, Shuichi. And her quite human friends. Which allows me the opportunity to compare human and supernatural levels of strength, agility, and healing." One deliberate silence, to bring the hammer down. "Akira isn't quite human, is he?"

"Rupert. As a friend, and as a Watcher who wants the best for his charge - don't tell him."

Giles raised curious brows at the sudden worry in that calm voice. "Whyever not?"

"Because it's a mess." For once, Shuichi Wagatsuma sounded truly miserable. "Between what Ryuuko did, and what Shirogane thought, and what Kou and I let Shirogane do because we hadn't quite unraveled the truth of the situation - he'd be angry at all of us, and he'd be right to be. But Homurabi still wants him dead, and Shirogane is the only one of us who can get to California fast enough if Homurabi finds him. Akira has to trust Shirogane, Rupert. His life depends on it."

"Then unless a life is at stake, I will not tell him," Giles said somberly. "But we've already dealt with a witch powerful enough to lay deadly curses on the Hellmouth. If similar spells are cast, I will need to know what other magic I am dealing with to help him."

"True," Shuichi said heavily. "And despite some of your past unfortunate habits, your word has always been good."

The Watcher winced. "You have seen me at my lowest, yes. I would understand if you didn't trust me."

"Rupert." It was a wry, gentle chuckle. "That is why I trust you. You made a very unfortunate mistake, and suffered the consequences. You promised you would never do something that selfish and foolish again, and you have kept your word."

It still ached. "I didn't suffer nearly enough."

"We can discuss your survivor guilt later," Shuichi said tartly. "Akira has enough of his own. Of all Ryuuko's court, only Kou survived. Akira has been living with that guilt, without remembering it, for years."

Memories of Ripper were too close to the surface; Giles had to stifle a growl. "Not to speak ill of the dead, but I'm not feeling kindly inclined toward Ryuuko."

"You're not responsible for forgiving him," Shuichi stated, an edge in the normally even voice. "The balance between light and shadow must be maintained, or both realms might fall to the sort of Powers that lie chained beneath your library."

Ouch. A low blow-

"You are a Watcher. You know that the good of the world sometimes requires a sacrifice."

No. That was the lowest of blows. "I will never abandon my Slayer, no matter what the good of the world might demand!"

"Then protect him, Rupert." No more anger; just a weary plea. "Protect him, because I can't. My duty to the realms won't let me. The balance must be maintained. And Akira is of the royal blood of the rei."

What?

"Don't ask me how," Shuichi went on, words tumbling over each other. "I don't know who began that line. By the time Kou found him Akira's father had been missing for a year; there's no way to know if he was rei passing for human, or a human of rei blood who never awakened. Ryuuko existed for thousands of years. He had a true love, but I know he strayed from time to time, when a human woman was in sorrow and in pain that he could heal." A thump, as if Shuichi had decided to take out his frustration on his perfectly innocent bar. "And Akira looks so much like him, Rupert. He sounds like him."

Normally, the fact that Shuichi had known the murdered rei king well enough to know his voice would be daunting. But Giles knew what most arcane researchers who'd contacted the light adept by phone never did.

Shuichi is blind.

And there was only one way a blind man could be certain he knew a face.

Shuichi's been close enough to the rei king to touch him. And Ryuuko allowed it.

Which meant he'd been right, all these years, not to confirm some of the rumors and myths of shin and rei to the Council. Shuichi wasn't just learned in the lore of that shadow-world. He'd been part of it. The Council would no more trust him than they would a reformed werewolf.

And Shuichi believes Ryuuko possessed one of his own descendants? Mess doesn't begin to describe it. "You want me to protect him," Giles said carefully. "From whom? Or what? The Hellmouth? Homurabi?" Yourself?

The faintest chill wafted over his neck. Giles whirled, going for the loaded crossbow on the coffee table-

"I think Master Wagatsuma wishes you to protect Akira from me."

A long silver braid of hair. Black hat and longcoat. A skull-headed cane, and a smile as warm and friendly as fresh brownies in a graveyard.

And no shadow.

Giles seized hold of his nerve in an iron grip, and kept the phone in hand. "The shin Shirogane, I presume."

"Is he there? That idiot-!" Shuichi lapsed into something neither English nor Japanese; Giles didn't recognize the language, but he could certainly discern thoroughly ticked off-

No. He did recognize that ancient tongue. It simply seemed impossible. Even demons had forgotten that speech, if any left on Earth were old enough to know it. If he was right... it might explain quite a bit of how easily Akira had made himself at home in a Watcher's library.

"Now, now, Master; let us use words my generous host can understand. It's only polite." Shirogane's smile deepened, and one blue eye shuttered in a wink. "As for why am I here, I'd think it would be obvious. Akira gets in so much trouble if no one looks in on him." The smile faded, no longer hiding the steel will beneath. "Exorcizing salt burns him? How badly?"

"It shouldn't be burning him at all," Shuichi grumbled. "It dissolves dark energies; humans and sh- rei should be immune."

"It's not a burn," Giles corrected both of them. Had Shuichi begun to say shin instead of rei? Why? And how, precisely, could Shuichi hear Shirogane on the phone from across the room?

Best to consider that later. "It reminds me most of a poison ivy rash. You did tell him he had an allergic reaction to Ryuuko's possession. I found that phrasing rather curious. Most who deal with injured spirits speak of a more physical trauma. Holes torn in the soul. Wounded hearts. But Akira pays attention to details, and he states you said allergic reaction. So I did a bit of research." In stolen moments, between training Buffy, researching Spike, and doing the actual work of a school librarian. "Imagine my surprise at how very many ways a human body can destroy itself. Toxin-induced loss of tolerance. TILT, as some in the field call it. One massive exposure to something that overwhelms the body's defenses, and the immune system goes on paranoid alert forever after. It may have been magic rather than organophosphates, but Akira's exposure to Ryuuko is otherwise a classic case." He met Shirogane's no longer friendly gaze. "In case you're unfamiliar with the phenomenon, human allergies tend to worsen over time, especially with repeated exposure to the offending agent. As one of the few responsible adults aware of exactly what Akira is handling, I intend to advise him to avoid using light-charged salt. So I hope there is an alternative he can use for sealing tears, or he's in a bit of a sticky wicket."

Blue eyes were slitted like a cat's, and flickers of red-black played around the skull of the cane. "As if you have any right to interfere-"

"Shirogane!" Shuichi said sharply. "You don't know human medicine. Just stop."

The shin blinked, blue eyes human again. Giles tried not to sweat. The rumors of shin weren't clear on exactly what their powers were, and he was disinclined to find out the hard way.

"Tell Akira to use one of the energy-shedding exercises before he begins," Shuichi went on. "He should be healed enough for that now."

Giles stiffened, startled. "I've used those myself, and I am not particularly magically adept." He ought to get back into the habit of using them; reacting as Buffy's Watcher sometimes meant handling energies in a tearing hurry. Spells were far easier to perform if the caster periodically rid themselves of negative energy; by the time they'd tracked down the usual Hellmouth menace, there simply wasn't time for a full ritual cleansing. "Exactly how badly was he injured?"

"Badly." Some of the starch seemed to wilt from Shirogane's stance, cane merely a silver-headed stick once more. "He transferred energy to me to save my life. And I... I am not a small thing, like a brownie or a faerie light, fed on a bowl of milk and moonlit water. What he gave me could have killed him. He knew that, and he gave it to me anyway; even though he was Akira, and never Ryuuko at all."

There was a plaintive bewilderment in that voice, matching the lost look almost hidden under a black brim. Giles found himself wanting to pat the man on the shoulder, shin or not. Buffy and the others might not know what they were hearing, children of a nation that declared a street sweeper might speak to the highest office in the land and be heard. But Giles had been raised in England, where class and breeding were everything, even when they shouldn't be, and he thought he might have grasped part of the trouble here. "Sir," he said with quiet respect, "has it been that long since you had a friend?"

From the startled look on Shirogane's face, and Shuichi's soft sound of dismay - yes, it had.

"That's ridiculous," Shirogane protested. "Friends don't-"

"I assure you, friends do," Giles cut him off. "The children under my care may have faltered, and they've often been afraid; which only shows their good sense, given the level of peril involved in simply walking the Hellmouth's streets. But Buffy is alive today because her friends have willingly gone into harm's way, and risked their own lives to save hers." He lowered his voice, to soften the blow. "It's a very human thing to do."

Blue eyes were fathomless. "I have never been human."

Ah. Dangerous ground. But perhaps he'd been around his vibrant Slayer too long; Giles forged onward. "Are you quite sure? There's little lore on your kind, to be sure. But while the kokuchi and hakua are certainly inhuman, what I can tease from myth and legend indicates that shin and rei may have originated from a mystical symbiosis, long ago." He cleared his throat, and carefully enunciated words linguists had deduced over the past century. "A very long time ago, Lord of Silver-Shining-Purity."

The hat brim rose, as Shirogane fixed him with his full attention. "Where did you- how did you-?"

Giles dipped his head. "English, if you would be so kind, Lord Shirogane. I'm only a dabbler in the tongue of those ancient riders on the Black Sea's shore. It isn't a written language, after all, and the Watcher's Council has ever focused on ancient tomes and prophecies. But the knowledge has come in handy when I've needed to guess at old tongues I do not know. Which is more often than I would like," the Watcher admitted. Tread carefully. Even an ancient lord has his pride. Especially an ancient lord. "Supporting the Slayer on the Hellmouth is never easy. Any aid you or those you favor might choose to grant us would only be helpful."

"Prettily spoken, when you already know Akira will not flee this fight." Hands clasped on the silver skull. "But he has been a warrior in the shadows, and I will not bar him from the battlefield if he chooses to fight." He raised a gloved hand, shadows gathering behind him. "Just... look after him. When those he cares for are in danger, he can be reckless."

Shadows shimmered, and Shirogane was gone.

"Giles?" Shuichi's voice was wary, and worried.

As well he should be, Giles admitted to himself, letting out a relieved breath. He'd just crossed swords with a being older than most civilizations; old enough to remember Proto-Indo-European as a living tongue, not a relic of dust and guesswork. And he'd walked away alive.

Giles sank back in his chair, and sighed. "I really could do with a cup of tea."

A/N: When it comes to both fighting and wound treatment, Akira may not always have the best advice. He was trained by Kou, off and on - and Kou is a rei, not human.

Riders on the Black Sea's shore - from the best linguistic and archaeological evidence, the Proto-Indo-Europeans came from that general area. Shirogane means silver, and there's an ancient association of silver with royalty and divinity in the Indo-European groups. I know at one point in MF canon Shirogane's supposed to be "eternal", but given it's assumed he can be killed, and Ryuuko is killed and reincarnates, it makes sense in the Buffyverse for the shin and rei to be of some kind of human origin. (Or at least human-demon crosses.)