I am just now graduating High School; lately I haven't really been into Fanfiction at all. I have been having ideas so you no longer have to wait my dears. Since summer will be here I can share my ideas and get back into everything... sorry, I hope you are not too angry.

Also as I am an american and in the western hemisphere, and if you are located in the eastern hemisphere or are knowledge able about buddhism and reading this; I apologize if I am stating things that are untrue. If you are buddhist, please tell me if you think I am being disrespectful know that it is ignorance, so if you kindly would, correct me.

Disclaimer - First of all I am researching all that I can about Buddhism and the japanese way of life so the information present is as correct as it can be. Second of all I don't own the characters or places only (somewhat) the storyline.

Samsara - The cycle of life and Death

Master Fung's Pov

Though Kimiko doesn't know it, I grieve for Toshiro and Ren... I worry what the child might do in her state of mind. After a death of a parent people tend to change, some slowly, while others over night. I hope no Sheng Gong Wu become active in the time of mourning. The poor girl hasn't eaten in almost a week. I am grateful at least she is drinking regularly; I should ask the other monks what they think. At the top of a nearby mountain is a Buddhist Temple, I could send Kimko there but I hesitate. She should be supervised, lest she waste away. We do have a modest prayer area here, but the temple on the mountain provides a more extensive feeling of enlightenment and a heightened connection to her ancestors. None of the customs have been performed on Toshiro, I think it would be wise for the other 3 dragons to attend. I will have a talk with them. She needs to be more psychologically stable before the regular customs can be observed. Something must be done. And Soon.

I rub my temples, and clench my jaw... a noise breaks me out of my reverie. Shouting, it sounds like kimiko's voice.

"OMI, WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THAT NECKLACE?"

Oh dear, it seems I was right about one thing... I just hope I Omi does what she says.

I sigh and go investigate the trouble. Dojo peeks out of my pocket and he looks nervous.

I pale at the sight before me. Kimiko's eyes are cold, and ruthless, a cold fire... like skin that has been touched by dry ice. With the necklace back Her lips turn into a disturbingly haunting smile. What she does next frightens me the most. She laughs. It isn't her natural one either. It sounds like a laugh that one would give when all hope seems gone; and life has lost meaning. It is worse than I feared. Tomorrow all 4 of the monks will be flown to Japan by plane; on Dojo, she could jump off, intent on... joining her parents.

Clay's Pov

"Kimiko is acting more hopeless than a... than a..." I can't think of anything to cheer her up. She looks empty. I would too if my pappy kicked the bucket. A head, a torso, legs. Her daddy appears. She wipes her eyes, Mr. Tohimiko looks at me, and his eyes look like they have seen things, both wonderful and horrible. Another head, a woman's chest, hips, legs, that must be her mother. I bite my lip. Damn it Clay, be a man... don't cry. Kimiko runs to her mother and hugs her but I can tell something isn't right. "You alright?" She looks at me and her eyes scream. I don't really understand what is happening. A flash of light, and Kimiko holds tightly to them, yet she isn't holding on to them. I can't really understand it. They look like they don't belong. When things come back to normal there are symbols burned into the ground, I don't know what they mean. They must mean something very much to Kimiko because she starts crying and kneels down. I make a move towards Kimiko but Master Fung glares at me. Omi's mouth would be a good fly catcher with how wide open it is. Raimundo almost looks worse than she does. I know he cares for her... I never realized how much. She is shaking back and forth. She is silent. Master Fung carries her into a room. She doesn't resist... all she does is cry.

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