Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.

A/N: WARNING! THIS CHAPTER IS RATHER DARK! I TRIED TO KEEP IT AS LITTLE GRAPHIC AS POSSIBLE, BUT IT IS OF EMOTIONALLY HEAVY CONTENT. SKIP TO THE NON-ITALIC PART IF THAT KIND OF THING TENDS TO HAUNT YOU.

At the Temple Junior had been introduced to the concept of mantra – and had found it incredibly boring. Repeating the same sound, word or phrase over and over again, what use would that have? How would that do any good? Along with the meditation lessons, mantra practice had been his least favorite activity at the Temple.

But now, standing in this small room getting ready to kill Master Ryuu, a man Junior had not only come to like, but actually to respect and maybe even admire, he discovered that a mantra was the only thing keeping him from screaming and crying in utter despair.

THIS IS OUR JOB

HIS FATE IS SEALED – SOMEBODY WILL FINISH THIS

HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS

He quietly repeated the words in his mind over and over again. Even Ryuu's strange statement "You've taken your time. Thank you." didn't interrupt this endless circle that somehow kept him focused and calm. But then the Master shifted and they could see that he had placed a dagger with an intricate ivory hilt right by his side.

Oh no. Had he somehow seen it coming? Was he going to fight back?

The mantra became nothing but a jumble of words. The only thing keeping Junior's composure together now was Guerrero, standing completely still by his side, taking in the scene with eerie calmness.

"You don't have to do this", he finally said. "I can end this quickly for you."

Ryuu merely shook his head. "You two will have to carry enough in the years to come. I'm not going to put this on you."

Junior wasn't sure he understood what the Master was talking about. Or maybe he didn't want to understand. He tried his mantra again - HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS and when that failed he tried to focus on how sadly amazing it was that Ryuu apparently had known all along who they were and why they had come to the Temple.

"Then let me be your kaishakunin", Guerrero said quietly.

Junior's knowledge of the Japanese language was far from perfect, but he did recognize the Japanese word for "second". It didn't make any sense to him, though, till Guerrero kneeled down behind Ryuu and drew his own knife.

As a boy Junior had read everything about the ritual of seppuku, better known as hara-kiri, he could find. For a while the idea of highly trained samurai warriors with a unique code of honor and unmatched fighting skills had fascinated him deeply. Dreaming about going to Japan, finding one of the old masters, becoming a samurai himself had helped him getting through the harsh realities of his childhood, at least till he had turned a teenager and things had gone from bad to worse.

Who would have thought that years after those wild boyhood dreams had faded he'd finally witness what had had such a dark appeal on him once upon a time? Seeing the Master sitting there, knife by his side, Guerrero behind him, ready to strike and remembering that there had been a period in his life when he had found that kind of death glorious, made Junior sick to his stomach.

HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS HE DID KILL ALL THOSE KIDS

Ryuu opened his robe, took his dagger and plunged it into his abdomen, leaving a deep left-to-right cut. Almost immediately afterwards Guerrero cut his throat. The whole thing was over in seconds.

Guerrero held the Master by his shoulders till he was sure he was dead, then slowly lowered him to the ground. Face grave, as if his features were etched in granite, he slowly wiped his knife clean. When he reached for Ryuu's right hand, however, Junior stopped him.

"No. I'm going to do that."

Mrs. Watson had insisted on an incontrovertible proof of the doctor's death. She would have probably preferred his head in a basket, but Joubert had explained to her that because of customs and all a finger, cut off post mortem, would have to do. She had asked for the doctor's right ring finger because that one bore a small liver spot.

Showing neither relief nor protest Guerrero stepped back from the body. He briefly closed his eyes when Junior executed the cut, though.

… … …

They managed to leave the Temple before anyone missed the Master. Now that they knew where they were finding the way to the nearest settlement with a connection to the road network didn't pose too much of a problem, but they somehow silently agreed to take the longer route.

For three days they marched through the jungle, lived off the plants Ryuu had taught them were edible and meditated. No words were spoken between them, they just walked and ate and rested, the only sounds coming from the rainforest and its inhabitants. When it rained, it rained, and when the sun shone, it shone.

On the morning of the fourth day they reached another logging town, a couple of corrugated-iron shacks scattered along a dusty red road. Packs of dogs were resting in the long shadows of battered vehicles and heaps of debris.

They still hadn't exchanged a single word since they had left the Temple, but when Junior stopped at a shabby hut near the end of the town, Guerrero stopped, too.

Junior banged against the door till the hung-over shop owner opened it. Convincing him to start working despite the unholy hour didn't pose much of a problem. Junior offered his knife in exchange and the man recognized high quality work. Then he asked, in a rough mixture of English and Indonesian, what he wanted to have done.

To that, interestingly, Junior had no answer. The whole idea of stopping at this shop, waking the owner etc. had been a somewhat spontaneous act. He was surprised Guerrero was still with him, he had expected him to keep on walking, dismissing what Junior was planning as silly, sentimental and completely ridiculous.

Guerrero, however, asked the owner in broken Indonesian for a piece of paper and a pen. To Junior's complete amazement he sat down and drew a perfect copy of Master Ryuu's dragon tattoo, from head to tail, intricate pattern after intricate pattern. What amazed Junior even more, though, was the fact that Guerrero instructed the tattoo artist to put the same image on his arm, only inverted.

They spent all day in the stuffy, overheated hut and when they finally walked out it was somehow absolutely clear to them that they'd never ever talk about this. Talking was not necessary.

"Chance? Chance? CHANCE!" Ames' voice made Carmine jump off the sofa, his big paws hitting sleeping Chance right in the stomach, providing him with a rather rude awakening from what had been a rather long, intense dream.

Drowsy and disoriented, he sat up and buried his face in his hands, trying to chase the remnants of this strange walk down memory lane away.

Ryuu…

He absentmindedly stroked his upper arm.

"Dude! Come down here! You'll want to see this!"

"Another copy of your dragon tattoo showed up!" Ilsa's voice. "This time painted on the tip of the pyramid of Cheops! What in the world is this about?"

Good question, Chance thought as he came padding downstairs. From the look on Guerrero's face he could see he had no idea either.