Kasumi heard the sound of the running water stop, and let a smile creep its way onto her face. She was quietly puttering through the kitchen, wondering just how this young man survived. She had found a plastic jug of milk, a half-eaten bag of potato chips, two or three microwaveable meals, and a pitcher of water.

It almost made her wonder how he stayed in shape.

"Sorry," he apologized again.

She startled, not having heard him leave the bathroom, and turned to face him. He was dressed in nothing more than a non-descript t-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from the shower, but the military buzz was short enough that no matter what he did, nothing changed about how it sat on his head.

"I'm really not home all that much. I tend to eat at the Galley on base most the time. Guess I'm going to have to pick some stuff up if we want to eat tonight."

Kasumi stood, looking out the window as she did. "Can I come with you?"

"Of course," Mike smiled, taking her in. She looked…odd in the attire he had given her. The shirt was baggy and hung lopsided on her, and the running pants were bunched unevenly around her narrow waist. "We might want to find you some decent clothing while we are out as well."

The Kunoichi just shook her head. "I can't impose any more on you than I already have…"

"Nonsense," Mike interrupted. "I have someone here on in my own home that needs help. I've never been one to turn someone like that out."

"But…"

"No buts."

Kasumi opened her mouth to protest again, snapped it closed, and followed him out the door.

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They had barely made it in the door before the young Kunoichi stopped dead in her tracks. The building had looked large from the outside, but inside it was just…vast.

Mike had taken them to the Navy Exchange near his base, saying they could find everything they needed at the one location. She had expected it to be rows of shops along the lines of what she was used to back in her home country, not one enormous store.

"…Woah," was all she was able to initially mutter.

Mike hadn't noticed her stop until he was a few steps ahead, and turned to look back to her. His movements broke her from her daze, and she lightly stepped to catch up with him.

"How do you even find things in here?" she wondered aloud, bringing a small chuckle from her escort.

"Well, you just keep coming back, and eventually you find your way around through it all."

She shook her head as he seemed to easily navigate through the store, until she found herself standing in the midst of a sea of clothing.

"I," he said, motioning towards a bench, "Am going to go take a seat over there. You are going to figure out what all you need or want. Find enough for about a week or so, and come find me."

Kasumi looked about to protest, but he waved her off, and turned to where he said he would be sitting.

As the girl lost herself in the clothing, Mike kicked his feet out in front of him, and leaned back against the wall. His eyes were slipping closed when the sound of cloth settled next to him.

"Bad choices," a feminine voice intoned next to him, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "You should have dropped her off like she asked, and let it be."

The sailor didn't bother opening his eyes, folding his hands comfortably on his chest. "I figured you wouldn't have left yet. There were two of you who got away."

"Two…!?" The news seemed to come as a shock to the new voice. "But they weren't…"

"There were three," he continued, causing her to jerk her head towards him. "They jumped my perimeter fence chasing this 'one I should have just dropped off', and when confronted one of them attacked me. I didn't have a choice, and for that I apologize."

The girl next to him nervously tucked a strand of her unnaturally purple hair back into the ball cap she was wearing. "There's…you're…what are you apologizing for?"

Mike sighed, and leaned forward, still not looking at her, but studying the ground. "For killing one of your companions. I asked him to lay his weapons down, but he chose to attack instead. Didn't have a whole lot of a choice."

"There's no some grunt in the military killed a highly trained ninja," she spat.

"Ninja, huh?"

She slapped both hands over her mouth. Had that runaway not even told him what they were?

"That's interesting," he continued. "I was wondering what was up with all the swords and skin tight outfits. Still, if it's his honor you're worried about, it did take three rounds to bring him down."

His voice had lowered to a growl at the end of his statement, making a point of how little it really took to end the hunter's life, and it left very little doubt in Ayane's mind that this man was maybe just a little beyond what would be considered a normal grunt in the military. This man was deadly.

"Why her?" she asked, a little puzzled.

"You have to understand. The Navy is no longer an aggressive warfighting force like we used to be. We are defenders, but we are defenders of all those who ask of us, not just our own country. Our mission as of late has been global defense. I take that to heart."

"So…" she was still a little confused.

"It's simple. She was being pursued by a hostile force, she was injured, and she asked for help."

The girl next to him settled back into the bench they were sitting on, not catching an exactly intimidating feel coming from him. She had a feeling that if he were to do anything, it would be in reaction and not aggression. "Did you realize the trouble you could bring on your head by helping someone like her?"

Mike let out a long sigh, finally looking at the woman next to him. She seemed about Kasumi's age, but had wild red eyes, and her hair, though it was tucked into a ball cap that did not seem to fit who she was at all, was obviously purple. Whether through die or what, Mike couldn't decide.

"Doesn't matter," he responded, "I knew I was putting my life on the line when I signed up for this job. So I might have to risk a little more on a personal level for helping someone else. Just means I'm doing what I love to do that much better."

"You are an enigma, Michael Kresson," she said, purposefully using his full name while her eyes rolled closed to mimic his pose from earlier. "I can't involve you in this just yet, but as soon as I get word, don't think you'll be spared just because you're not her."

With that, she stood, and started making her way towards the exit, tucking that determined strand of purple hair back up into her cap. Mike caught her wrist as she walked by, the controlled strength in his grip surprising her. His hand barely touched her wrist, but might as well have been a steel cuff to try to pull out of.

"You know my name, would you do me the favor of telling me yours?" he asked, staring right into her eyes.

With a snap of her arm, she broke his grip and pulled her arm away, continuing towards the door. Her voice humored as she answered.

"No."

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It was several hours later by the time they had made it back to Mike's apartment. Kasumi had insisted on picking out several things specifically from the Commissary. She had been in just as much awe of the massive grocery store as she had the Exchange when they first walked in, and had picked several items out of the 'International' aisle, things she was used to, he had guessed.

Now, however, her reasoning behind picking certain things out was a little more apparent. She had shooed him out of the kitchen not moments after they had put the groceries away, donned an apron that she had picked up with her clothing, and set to work with a focused determination.

Mike was taking the opportunity to relax a little, music drifting quietly from where his laptop sat on the coffee table, next to where his feet where propped up. In his hands was an old, dog-eared book that he had picked up from the library a week ago, and had yet to finish.

He wasn't getting much reading done at the moment though. His mind kept going back to the purple-haired girl that had confronted him while they were out. He had debated the whole trip home as to whether he should ask Kasumi about it or not, but still was yet to open his mouth.

It was now or never though, no use putting it off.

"So I ran into someone while you were shopping earlier," he started. "She warned me to stay away from you."

There was a clatter in the kitchen as the spatula she had been using slipped from her hand.

"Some girl with purple hair," he continued, now listening closely for her reaction. "Is there something I should know about, or be concerned about?"

"Umm…" Kasumi started, letting her voice drift off nervously. "Dinner's ready."

Mike turned the book face down next to his computer, and made his way over to the table, where she was just finishing setting out the food on the table. What she had made looked like a feast to him, but it may just have been the layout, with everything on its own dish.

There was a bowl of some kind of soup or stew, a healthy sized piece of fish, a bowl of rice, and some kind of vegetable mixture.

"It smells amazing," he complimented as she took her seat. She had found a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks in one of his drawers, probably from a takeout place he would have ordered from before. He found silverware he was familiar with by his plates, however.

She waited patiently as he lifted the first bite to his mouth.

"Kasumi, wow. This is incredible."

A smile turned the corners of her mouth up, and a blush set on her face, but was quickly chased away by his earlier question.

"I'm…I'm sorry," she started, bringing his attention from the food and back to her. "I never should have taken you offer to come here. It could be very dangerous for you."

Her eyes dropped down to her own food, where she had yet to even taste it.

"I am from the Mugen Tenshin clan of ninja in Japan, or I was until I ran away from them. I made the choice of my own to pursue some…bad people who had done some things horribly wrong to someone close to me. My clan was against it, so I defied them and ran away."

Mike was listening closely, his own fork set back down so as to give her his full attention.

"I was able to accomplish what I had set out for, but at a cost. You see, defying the clan forced the elders to exile me, and while this might simply be a mark of dishonor on most clans, ours is… quite secretive. What I did to heal you and I is one of the reasons, but not the only one. There are things that I…that I shouldn't talk about. The only way out form our clan is death. I have been pursued since then by those who I used to call as close to family…"

A tear rolled down her cheek as painful memories wracked her mind.

"And some who used to be family. The one you met today, she is my sister, and also the one in charge of returning my body to the clan."

"Returning your body?" Mike asked.

"Doesn't matter whether I am alive or dead to be returned, but that my body is returned, so that those who oppose us cannot gain knowledge from it. I'm afraid just by bringing me into your home puts your life in great danger."

"This is ridiculous," Mike said almost nonchalantly. "You quit your job, and they want to kill you for it? Buncha bullshit."

Kasumi looked him, confused. "It's our way…"

"You way is dumb."

Mike casually picked back up his silverware, going back to his meal while it was still hot.

"Stick around," he continued. "We'll figure something out, we'll get them off your back, and we'll start you over so you can make decisions for yourself."

"But, it's dangerous!"

The glint in his eye startled her, immediately reminding her of the night before.

"So am I."

As fast as it was there, the glint vanished, and a good natured smile came back to his face.

"You should eat while it's still hot. You've made an amazing meal, it would be a shame for it to go to waste."

Nodding, Kasumi picked up the cheap, fast food chopsticks she had found, separated them with practiced ease, and daintily picked at her meal, showing much more restraint than she had before.

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It was late at night by the time Mike and Kasumi finally decided it was time to turn in. Mike had retired to his room with a wave, after pointing Kasumi to where she could sleep for the night.

For a long time, the Kunoichi stood in the hallway, looking at the closed door that was to be her room. There was nothing keeping her here, nothing tying her down. It was just a few steps to the front door, and she could protect this young man.

Her hand reached out towards the front door of the apartment, almost as if it was trying to run away without her…then with a shake of her head, she brought it all the way up, untying the ribbon from her long hair. Her other hand reached to the door next to her, and let herself into the bedroom.

It wasn't anything fancy, plain white walls, shuttered blinds covering the window, plain beige carpet, and a full-sized dresser standing off to one side. However what caught her eye was the full-sized western bed that dominated the majority of the small room. It would have been wasteful for the small Japanese apartments she was familiar with, but this whole room was meant for nothing other than just being a room for the bed and a dresser.

The oversized pants and shirt were folded respectfully, and set on the dresser, the pink nightshirt she put on falling below her knees. Finally, she sat down on the bed, pulling her wakizashi from where it lay atop the dresser, and retrieving a small cloth she kept just for this purpose. She drew the blade slowly, inspecting the weapon for any blemish as she removed it, then set it on her lap while polishing it with the cloth.

It wasn't something that needed to be done as often as she did, but the monotonous motions were relaxing to her.

"How long can I even stay here," she whispered to herself. "I don't want to put him in danger, and Ayane already knows how to find us, no doubt she's been tracking us since we left the stores this afternoon."

The sword was flipped over as she turned her attention to the other side.

"It's just…I want to believe that he's telling the truth, and that somehow he can do something. I don't want to run away anymore, but I… I don't want to die."

A tear dropped on her blade, lingering a moment before she rubbed the cloth over it, erasing its existence from the steel.

"I miss my sister. I miss my brother. I just want to be a family again."

She returned the blade to its sheath, and placed it back on the dresser, before succumbing to the temptation of the soft bed she had been sitting on. She slid under the sheets and blankets, pulling them up to her nose as she sunk into the mattress, sighing as it felt like it was cuddling her. While it wasn't something she should be getting used to, it was something she would enjoy for the night. Besides, Mike had mentioned something about not being brought into the fight, so that would mean his house was off-limits while he was on the premises. Her thoughts muddled together as sleep took her, and for the first time in a very, very long time, her sleep was quiet, undisturbed and restful.

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Morning found Mike's bed empty. Kasumi stared through his bedroom door and at it for a long moment before realizing what it meant. If he had stepped out, she was fair game to the hunters. Immediately on guard, she grabbed her wakizashi without flourish, and slipped like a ghost from the room. Her feet didn't make a noise on the soft carpet as she slipped down the hall, her ears perking as a series of pops echoed from up the stairs.

She slipped up the stairs like a cat, without noise or disrupting anything, only to find Mike's back to her as he let loose a flurry of blows into a heavy training bag. She stood quietly as she watched his routine for a moment.

Mike's attacks were strange to the kunoichi. They didn't follow any known pattern she had seen before, and seemed to be a combination of both defensive motions in tandem with offensive attacks. Even in the Dead or Alive tournaments, she hadn't seen anyone fight with this style.

It was…violent, to say the least.

She watched where his hands connected on the bag. He was aiming for soft targets while creating openings into the same in the same motions. Throat, stomach, knees, groin… the way he was fighting would not be acceptable in any tournament there was.

Which is when it occurred to her. This wasn't a fighting style. This was life or death for him, every time. He wasn't a tournament fighter, and he wasn't designed to be something that one could hold back with. She watched his footwork as he struck. Two or three blows, and his feet would shift.

He was intent on killing an opponent that quickly? Three more blows rained down on the bag, and his feet shifted again. Dead or not, where he hit the bag would have incapacitated anyone he was up against.

His fighting style was never intended for a ring, that's why she had never seen it before. It was a combat style for incapacitating ones enemy and quickly moving on to the next. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't elegant, but it was very straight forward and brutal.

And the weight of his fists as they connected to the bag knew that even trying to block the blow would still be incredibly painful.

"Good morning," she ventured softly.

Mike dropped his gloved fists from the stance he was in, and grabbed a towel that hung across the bar for a bench press. She could see how hard he had been working by the wet marks that ran down the back of his shirt. He had wiped his face by the time he turned, but his dark, short hair was damp and matted down still.

"Good morning," he replied. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Kasumi shook her head. "That was the best sleep I have had in years," she admitted honestly.

Mike's eyebrow raised in question.

"Ayane told you yesterday that you are not allowed to be considered a target, or allowed to be involved yet. Since she informed you that she couldn't involve you, by our clan laws she cannot involve you until she informs you otherwise. It would be dishonorable to her."

"So…"

"Involving you also involves your property when you are there. Your house is the first place I haven't had to worry about being attacked in my sleep for four years."

"And you say she has to inform me again before I can be involved?"

"Yes," Kasumi nodded.

"Well, I'm already off work for the week to heal, but since you took care of that, we can take some time to figure things out."

Kasumi nodded, while Mike was finally noticing the rest of what was going on. How she carried her blade, the night-shirt she wore, and her disheveled look.

"So uh… what's with the get-up?" he questioned.

Kasumi looked down, looking at her short sword in her hand. "I…umm… I thought you had stepped out, which would open me back up. Guess I panicked a little."

"Yeah, I guess so, huh."

The kunoichi bowed slightly. "Excuse me," she announced abruptly, then turned her way down the stairs.

Mike shrugged, and turned back to the bag, tightening his padded gloves again. It was five minutes later when he heard her behind him again.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Mike turned away from the bag again. She had changed into a pair of black running pants that had a single light blue stripe running down the side, and a blue t-shirt of the same shade.

"Feel free," he offered. "I was just about to push some iron for a bit, so if you need the bag, go ahead."

Kasumi nodded, and started stretching out, moving in ways that would make a ballerina jealous. Mike on the other hand, shook his head, and situated himself beneath the bar on the bench press.

A/N: So not quite as long as the last chapter, but I feel I made some good progress with this chapter. That and I am a little tired, and can barely see straight anymore. Instead of trying to wait until later, I'm going to go ahead and post this chapter.

Reviews are always welcomed. This has already had more hits than most other starts I've written lately, but not a single review. Yeah, I know, I'm a review whore. I've accepted that fact though, and am quite comfortable with it.

Anyways, sorry about the long break between updates. Being out here on the water makes things a little more difficult to find time to write.

Fair winds and following seas! See you next time.