Chapter 11: Blood Seal

After just three minutes had passed, Reizo, Kazuya and Ayako noticed Shoryu appear at the entrance to the cliff's small alcove and begin his descent. Although he was still cautious, Shoryu seemed to climb down much faster, having spent years traversing the spire above his home. More than that, he seemed eager - almost impatient to get down. Fortunately this new vigour never betrayed him, as within just another minute he dropped down to the ground. He turned to them with a sheepish look, hunching his shoulders and biting what few nails he had remaining.

"Shoryu? Are you alright? Let me see your hands," said Reizo.

"I'm alright sensei, they'll heal," he replied. Cautiously Shoryu glanced around for one final look to see if any clones hid nearby. Once he was sure they were alone he continued. "But listen, you know what you said about this mission never going wrong and never so much as a hiccup has ever happened?"

"Yeah I remember, unless you count being attacked by weird Shadow Clones."

Reizo was about to press him further for the reason behind his awkward stance when his answer showed its face. From out of Shoryu's backpack a small creature popped up its head for a first look at sunlight. He rested his head on the boy's shoulder and let out a strange noise upon seeing Reizo and the others.

"Well, I don't suppose this ever happened before did it?" Shoryu finished. Pushing free of the zips, the reptilian bounced from the boy's pack to the ground and merrily made its way to the centre of Squad Thirteen as each member looked down in astonishment. It fell down onto all fours and coughed up a jet of flame like a cat choking up a furball.

"Did that. . ." Ayako began, though her shock prevented her from finishing her sentence.

Shoryu finished it for her. "Come from the egg? Yeah. And don't worry Reizo-sensei – I know how it looks. I swear to you though, I set the egg down on that strange pillow and I was on my way to out when it hatched, so we did technically complete the mission. He tried to follow me down no matter what I did, so I figured I'd carry him down so he didn't fall off the cliff and kill himself."

Reizo tried to find the words, yet none came to him. Such was his shock that the egg had actually hatched that his lips failed him. He had so many questions that he had no idea which to ask first.

"So it wasn't a hoax," figured Kazuya. "What I want to know is why now? I mean after ten years of being carted from place to place it finally hatches - that seems strange."

"Mm." The Jonin nodded his head; it was one of the questions he'd had in mind as well. "I can only assume that it was because Shoryu saved its life. Perhaps they know these things. Shoryu rescued it once with his jutsu, and even though it was indirect, he saved it again when he almost fell off the cliff."

"He's so. . ." Ayako spoke again, kneeling down to inspect the little beast. He kneaded her hand with his muzzle and looked up at her, sparkly-eyed and curious. "Adorable!" she squealed eventually, gaining a noise of delight from the creature.

Shoryu sighed, as did the others. "That wasn't the first word that came to mind," he admitted.

Just as Ayako reached out to pick him up though, the creature's face turned sober. Suddenly he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving the group in complete silence, each wondering whether or not they'd simply imagined the presence of a dragon in their midst.

"Okay. . ." Reizo looked around. "Where did he go?"

At once another eruption of smoke marked the return of the dragon, this time holding something. With the absence of opposable thumbs he couldn't quite grasp the large scroll he had pinched between his claws. Nevertheless, he managed to lay the scroll flat, and with a nudge of his foot rolled out the parchment to full size across the rocks.

Lengthways, smeared in a strange ink that looked suspiciously to Shoryu like blood, were five names side by side, followed by a handprint beneath them. Surrounding the scroll were multiple characters and symbols that escaped Shoryu's comprehension. Impatiently the dragon stamped his foot to point to a free slot, though Squad Thirteen were far more interested in the scroll itself.

"It's a summoning contract," whispered Kazuya. He knelt down to inspect it further out of nothing more than curiosity, yet before he could touch it the dragon bared its teeth into a snarl to warn him away. Following that, the creature simply plodded over to Shoryu's side and nudged him, staring up with that 'adorable' look that could not be refused.

"I think he wants you to sign it Shoryu," Reizo observed.

The dragon yet out a yap in confirmation of the Jonin's theory.

"Me?" Shoryu looked down to the horned animal, who simply nipped the cloth of his trousers and tried feebly to drag him over to the parchment. With Reizo's nodding as a blessing, Shoryu proceeded over to the scroll and knelt down. With no clue what to do his gaze wandered over the names faded into the paper. Four of them were clearly ages old, however the most recent one, whilst being hardly fresh, was far more noticeable than the others. It was also the only one on the series of names that was finalised with a left handed print.

Kazuya suddenly voiced Shoryu's thoughts. "Those first four must be centuries old, but that last one can't be older than a few decades."

Ayako nodded. "Whoever it is has terrible handwriting. I think it says. . . 'Shango Usorite'?"

"I'll be honest, I'm seeing 'Jenbon Utira'," confessed Reizo.

"Think it says 'Shuti Olara'," offered Kazuya.

Shoryu paused; it looked like none of those names to him, though if he squinted a little he could see exactly how his teammates had come to their conclusions. He saw 'Salaman Usola', though he doubted any of the others did, and doubted even further that it was actually the summoner's name. Ayako was right: whoever he or she was, their handwriting left much to be desired.

Interrupting his thoughts the dragon gave a cry and lightly butted his wrist with its nose.

"Easy!" Shoryu called. "I don't know what to do!"

"Write your name in the empty space using blood; it's an offering that seals the contract," instructed Reizo. "You normally have to cut yourself in order to do it, though I doubt you'll need to."

Shoryu nodded, seeing that his hands were already covered in the slick substance. Hesitantly he wrote his name in the slot provided to gain another sound of glee from the dragon. He was careful to spell it correctly and leave a good example for those who followed unlike the summoner who'd preceded him. Next, as Reizo instructed, he left a handprint below with each of his right hand fingers still fresh with blood.

Satisfied, the dragon gave his bloodied hand an affectionate lick and vanished along with the scroll, back to wherever it was that he lived.

"You should try summoning one," Reizo instructed.

Before Shoryu could ask how, the Jonin read his thoughts and elaborated. He explained about a blood donation that had to be offered, then demonstrated the five required seals and finally showed him the correct movement of slapping his hand down to the ground.

"Remember," he instructed. "You have to focus chakra to your palm and visualise the creature you want to call."

"Alright." Shoryu nodded his head as he began the process. He didn't expect much on his first try; perhaps a newly born hatchling like the one he'd just encountered. Still, the prospect of a new jutsu, especially one that involved such a legendary species, excited him. After finally executing the signs of the boar, the dog, the bird, the monkey and the ram, Shoryu slammed down his blood-stained palm to the ground as squiggly characters of ink tattooed the rocks.

"Summoning Jutsu!" he cried.

A flash of smoke billowed out beside his hand, marking the entrance to the very same dragon that had hatched earlier. He could tell it was the same one, because he seemed to have summoned the creature right as he was extending his tiny little arms to put the scroll back onto some high shelf that he could barely reach. Far from being annoyed though, the dragon's eyes lit up like diamonds yet again. He scrambled over to his new master's side and tugged at Shoryu's trouser leg, eager to play.

The boy picked the beast up under his arms as one would a baby. Happy from his sudden flight, the dragon let out another noise of satisfaction, prompting Shoryu to set him on his shoulders in a piggyback.

"Chaka!" he squealed in delight. From the boy's shoulders the dragon could see the entire land for miles, being more than five times higher than his usual height. He rested his chin on Shoryu's fluffy mane of hair and eyed the group, contented.

"Why did I summon the same one?" Shoryu asked. "Is that normal?"

Reizo shook his head and answered, "I think I know why; it's not a very nice idea, but it makes sense." He allowed the others to look for an answer before continuing. "I think he's the only one left. Think about it: if dragons were common we'd know about them. I think that our client, whoever he or she is, entrusted the egg to Cloud shinobi because they wanted it to hatch; they knew that it'd be in safe hands and that if anyone could use them to their fullest potential, it'd be the ninja."

"The clones," Kazuya said as another disturbing thought hit him. "They knew didn't they? They had to know it was real. Why would the Tsuchikage, or any competent leader for that matter, send a squadron after a supposed 'dragon egg' unless they knew it was a sure thing?"

Reizo nodded. "I agree. If that's the case then you'll have to send him away for now Shoryu; we can't be seen out here with the dragon in case the clones are still around. And I forbid all three of you to speak a word of this to anyone."

"I can't even tell my mother?" Shoryu checked.

"No, not even her. You have to understand Shoryu – these ninja want that dragon, so telling your mother would only put her in unnecessary danger. The less anyone knows about this, the safer they'll be."

After promising his code of silence to Reizo, Shoryu and the others headed back south, knowing that if the clones lurked nearby they'd be targeting the beacon. Already the sun had begun to set, and so they made camp in a small, secluded opening in the rocks a mile west of Hilan. Being surrounded by cliff faces on all sides meant that they had natural protection from ninja or other predators that might lurk nearby, and the inclusion of a cold stream allowed them to fill their flasks with water.

By the time Kazuya finally returned with firewood the sun had shifted into a late, glaring red with its hour or so of time remaining. Shoryu knew exactly what this meant. Even if it killed him, he'd have to endure Kazuya's brutal methods of training for a second time. Last night had been bad enough, but this time the samurai would be giving his bruises their own bruises. With shredded fingers, an aching back and a body full of injuries to contend with, Shoryu had little patience for it; his day had been gone relatively well up until these moments too, as the excitement of hatching a dragon had made him forget all about Kazuya's kenjutsu lesson.

Nevertheless, Shoryu refused to let the samurai get the best of him, so as soon as Reizo began to speak he leapt to his feet.

"Alright then, let's go," he said, putting on that same look of false excitement he'd used the previous day.

"Shoryu, you don't have to do this," offered Reizo. "No one will blame you if you refuse; Kazuya's methods are a little excessive after all."

The boy sighed; saying that only made it worse. It sounded as though the Jonin pitied him. "No that's alright," he answered, smiling. "Shall we?"

"Hn," was the extent of Kazuya's answer. He turned away from the camp and started up down the sloping ridge they'd descended to get here, looking as moody as ever thanks to Shoryu's acceptance of his training. Still maintaining his demeanour of faux-enthusiasm, Shoryu followed his teammate up the hill. He kept a few paces behind him whilst they searched for an adequate training area, just as he had done yesterday.

The rocky, barren hills made for a much more difficult fighting terrain than the simple forest meadows, and as a result it took them much longer to find a clearing that was suited for their needs. The outcropping rocks we constantly ready to snare at an ankle and the pebbles beneath them would often crumble, sending them into an awkward trip.

Eventually Kazuya spotted a place not unlike the area they'd previously trained. A lone tree sat at the top of an isolated patch of grass at the head of a narrow stream. After reaching it, Kazuya repeated the same process of using his ice manipulation prowess to snap off pieces of suitable wood for their spar. Shoryu caught his own as the boy threw them to him, closing his eyes and taking a sharp inhale to steel himself for a nightmare of torturous blows. Finally he opened his eyes, prompting Kazuya to speak.

"This session will be far more painful than the last," he revealed. "Are you still sure you want to do this? You can always back out."

Without hesitation Shoryu nodded. "Yes."

"You will know agony that you never even thought was possible. I won't hold anything back; you won't sleep for weeks after tonight."

"Psshh." Shoryu shrugged the boy's comments off as unimportant. "Don't flatter yourself. Can we just get this over with?"

Kazuya gave a final check. "You're absolutely sure?"

"Of course," Shoryu replied.

Instead of the expected lunge into an attack that Shoryu anticipated, Kazuya instead gave out an enormous sigh and dropped his shoulders in resignation. Shoryu paused; it was an oddly comic expression that he'd never seen the stern boy put out before, so dramatic and intentional that it seemed as if he'd been holding in that exhale for the last few years of his life.

"Fine," Kazuya grumbled. "Get back into position."

Before, Kazuya had never gave him time to even consider getting back into position before smacking him around, but even so, Shoryu cautiously shuffled into stance.

"No, no, no." Kazuya ordered. He let out another sigh. "There are only a few dual-wielders in my village but I know the stance well enough. You're too square, stand a little more to the side, and hold the sticks a little higher – they're not that heavy."

Shoryu adjusted his right foot so that he faced Kazuya with his left side.

"That's too side-on; a little closer."

Once again Shoryu glanced down at his right foot and shifted it slightly, resulting in a hum of acknowledgement from Kazuya. He didn't understand; what exactly was going on? What happened to all that 'agony you never thought was possible' stuff?

"Alright, now you know that shorter blade in your left? Hold it in a backhand style, like this." He demonstrated, twirling around his stick so that its edge pointed down along his forearm. "It's harder to master but more effective in the long run, just make sure you hold it so that the blade points away from your body – you don't want to end up stabbing yourself when you try and block something. From that stance you can use the shorter one to attack quickly and the longer one to follow through: try punching with your left hand."

Eyeing the boy suspiciously, Shoryu copied the strange method of holding his blade and threw a single hook into thin air, finding that with the offhand style it became a simple slash - far quicker and easier than lifting up his arm and swinging back down. Even so, the boy couldn't help but remain puzzled.

"Wait, is this an actual lesson?" he checked.

Again Kazuya spared an exasperated sigh, and feeling he owed Shoryu an explanation, he continued. "I don't hate you anywhere near as much as you seem to hate me," he said. "Last night you suggested that the reason behind my actions was to force you to quit - to beat you so badly that you wouldn't want to come back today. That's partly true: I've got better things to do than teach some brat kenjutsu." Kazuya savoured the look of irritation on Shoryu before he continued. "However. . . It's also true that I have no choice in the matter, and since that's the case, I had to be sure that I wasn't just teaching the ways of my clan to some amateur. Yesterday was a test: I figured that if you could take all that punishment and still come back you'd be commendable enough learn my village's technique."

Shoryu blinked twice, finding the samurai's explanation difficult to take in. It was a test? He wondered. And furthermore; Kazuya did have a choice in the matter. Some of it made sense in a strange way; when he'd accused Kazuya of the reason behind his underhand tricks before he'd replied with 'that's half of it'. Shoryu had never had a chance to ask what the other half entailed, and here it was. More importantly:

"Wait. . ." he said, urgently needing to double-check what his partner had said. ". . . Did you just pay me a compliment?"

"Oh do you have to be so-"

"Does this mean we're friends?"

"Like hell it does," Kazuya told him flatly, though Shoryu was having none of it. Even without a mutual sense of malice between them the boy still felt the need to annoy him; it had become his routine after all.

"Whatever you say Kazu."

"It's still Kazuya."

In the hour and a half of training that followed, Shoryu sustained only two bruises as opposed to yesterday's low three-digit sum, and those were from faults of his own rather than the samurai's brutality. Kazuya instructed him on the finer points of swordplay, taking him right back to the basics he'd thought he'd long since mastered.

Even in such a short amount of time Shoryu felt he learned more in a couple of hours than he had in five years at the academy. At first he suspected that his hateful old mentor had taught him wrong on purpose, yet it wasn't long before he realised that he wasn't just learning basic swordplay; no, he was learning the ways of the Takashi clan. And what better tutor for kenjutsu than a real life samurai?

Often Kazuya would stand beside him and demonstrate how exactly he should swing his blade or string together combinations, allowing him to look over and mirror the precise movements with Kazuya correcting him with a groan every step of the way. Other times he'd face against the boy and be asked to put what he'd just learned to use. It was difficult at first, and Shoryu was quick to realise that there was far more to swords than he'd ever realised.

Even Kazuya, a boy born and raised around these techniques, confessed that he was no master and that there were samurai within his village who could shame him in moments. It was much more than just swinging around and hoping for the best; everything from his grip to his footwork was carefully critiqued and corrected by Kazuya. Initially Shoryu thought it patronising for him to nit-pick at such minor details, yet it was only after he'd altered his approach in accordance with Kazuya's instructions that he realised the benefits.

"Don't get the wrong idea about this," the samurai would say every so often. "There's a good chance we could be on the same team for a while and I don't want to get killed because you're too weak."

Kazuya taught him that patience and precision were the ingredients for great kenjutsu. As they duelled below the tree Shoryu finally noted the immense subtleties in Kazuya's technique that were so defined that he felt immediately inferior. He told the samurai that he'd never be able to match his level of skill, yet Kazuya only replied by reciting a philosophy that there were no limits to the power that discipline, time and training could achieve.

Eventually, when he saw that Shoryu could go no further, Kazuya deemed their session to be over; he allowed the boy to slump to the ground at the base of the tree whilst he sat down, cross legged and shut-eyed. Shoryu drank almost the entirety of his water and turned back to the boy, who he realised was practicing that odd meditation technique that he used daily. It was something he'd been curious about for a while, and now that the two were on civil terms he could finally ask.

"What is that thing anyway?" he quizzed. "I mean, you do it every day."

Kazuya's eyes reopened and he glanced to the floor, as if he was debating whether or not to tell Shoryu anything at all. "Since you're in training now I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you," he said. "Your Zawa clan, they have the legend of the Kanzen Raikyogan, right?"

Shoryu nodded. "Yeah, Reizo told me all about it. It hasn't been seen in centuries though."

"Well the swordsmen of the Takashi have their own legend. This meditation allows us to relax the mind. It might sound odd, but when you're calm – when you're at peace, you can fight much more effectively. They say emotion clouds the mind and therefore dulls the blade, something which my clan lives by. My clan's founder, Yamamoto Takashi, was said to have attained a sense of 'Ultimate Stillness'. They say his movements were flawless and left nothing to waste; that he could almost see the perfect path around his opponents and execute it with minimal difficulty."

"Sounds incredible," Shoryu agreed, fumbling around in his pockets. "He must've been quite the samurai."

"So they say. That's why I intend to do his sword justice," Kazuya revealed, looking over to the double sided weapon that lay before him.

Shoryu gasped, "Wait, so that's his old sword? How come you have that?"

The samurai seemed about to reply before something caught his eye. Shoryu had been groping around absently in his pockets and had finally retrieved the wooden flute he regularly played. He was about to blow a single key before he noticed Kazuya's gaze lingering over the instrument.

"May I have a look at that?" Kazuya got to his feet and strode over, towering over the slouching ninja and holding out his hand. Shoryu eyed him suspiciously; if it were any other day he'd figure Kazuya was about to snap it just to spite him, yet today the two had made progress, and he seemed genuinely curious about the small wooden flute. On the other hand, he'd never let anyone touch it before; being one of the only things left he had from his father, it was more than just precious to Shoryu.

"Why?" he asked, clutching it tightly.

"Please, I just need to check something. It's been bugging me for a while now."

Shoryu looked up at the samurai's cold, unwavering expression until he finally surrendered the flute, warning, "Just be careful with it."

Kazuya turned the instrument over twice in his hands. He looked down the mouthpiece and then to the opening at the opposite end from where the music sounded. Having finally proven his theory correct, he presented it back to Shoryu and pointed to the tip of the flute, to the tiniest, most miniscule symbol engraved upon it.

Even after five years of playing he'd never noticed the diamond shaped emblem, though he failed to see how it was significant in any way until he looked back up at Kazuya, who held up the very same symbol on his wristguard. Curiously enough, he then lifted up his sword. The very same sword that had been wielded by the founder of the Takashi clan bore this symbol. It was too much of a coincidence.

"I'd recognise that sound anywhere," Kazuya said. "It comes from my village – there's no other like it."

"Whoa. . ." Shoryu only made a noise of awe as Kazuya passed him back the instrument. "My mother always said he received it as a gift from some friends in a village down south. I never thought for a second it could be your village."

"It's a strange coincidence I'll admit," Kazuya agreed. "But these things do happen from time to time."

"Hey, maybe my father knew yours!" suggested Shoryu.

"If that were the case then it'd be a shame he's dead. My father left the village not long after I was born and he disappeared entirely before I could turn five. My mother died before I was old enough to talk and I was raised by her sister. She hardly ever spoke to my mother so she couldn't tell me anything about my real father; I've no idea who he is, whether or not he's a samurai or if he's even alive."

Shoryu paused. At least now he knew why Kazuya had said that he wished to find his father before. More than anything he empathised with the boy, and it was only in the last five minutes that he realised the two were more alike than he dared think.

"I never knew my father either. Sure my mother did, but I don't like to ask her about him. I think it upsets her a bit when I do."

Kazuya nodded, acknowledging Shoryu's dilemma whilst avoiding continuing their discussion at the same time. "Come on, we should get back – it's getting dark."

Shoryu tried once in vain to get back to his feet. He still hadn't bandaged the mess of his right hand and never intended to; if his fingers were covered in plasters he wouldn't be able to summon his new dragon. His muscles ached and his fingers throbbed so painfully that pushing himself up off the tree was an ordeal.

"Care to lend me a hand?" he said.

Kazuya only scoffed and turned his back with every intention of leaving Shoryu behind. "Don't push your luck."

The boy grinned, and with a hiss of pain he finally managed to fight his way to his feet, shuffling along behind Kazuya for the trek back to camp.

The moment he arrived Ayako rushed over to inspect him again, ready to chastise Kazuya for his unfair treatment until she realised that Shoryu was unharmed. He still bore the scars of yesterday's training, but their colour had faded with age and only two new bruises were present. One formed an ugly splodge across his arm, whilst the other streaked up his left leg.

"What, did he stab you for real this time or something?" she asked, meaning it.

"No, no – of course not. It just went a little better today is all."

Ayako eyed the samurai with an evil glare before crossing her arms and briskly walking back to the tent. Reizo instructed each of them to do so, yet once again Shoryu was allowed to stay outside for another hour, as was Kazuya. They headed off in separate directions; as much as Shoryu was eager to learn, he'd been given much to practice in the last few days that he was spoiled for choice. The duration of his stream technique quickly needed raising from its modest five seconds, the dragon summoning needed perfecting and Kazuya's training had opened new doors of swordplay that he needed to open.

In the end Shoryu segregated the three disciplines into thirty minute intervals, finding a wide open stretch of canyon and taking aim at an oversized boulder. The Air Slash stream managed to flare out for a whole six and a half seconds before slipping from his grasp by the end of it. He knew that Kazuya was training his own much harder, though with his stubborn training method he'd need far more time to increase his total duration.

A short break and a flask of water later and Shoryu pricked his already ravaged thumb with the edge of his sword and smeared blood across his palm, thrusting downwards and focusing chakra.

"Summoning Jutsu!" he bellowed, scaring away a few crows upon the rocks. Just as he expected, the flash of smoke and spread of ink gave way to the exact same dragon he'd hatched earlier on in the day. The creature squawked and cried until Shoryu realised why; being a newborn and still short of sight, the dragon could make out very little amongst the darkness.

"You know, for something like a dragon you're not exactly the most powerful of beings are you? I mean it'll be at least a few years before you're able to fight," Shoryu noted.

The dragon only made a noise and tilted its head, giving a look that Shoryu knew Ayako would be unable to resist melting over.

The final rays of sun had almost blinked out over the horizon, so Shoryu found a nearby tree, snapped off a few branches and tried to start a fire.

It wasn't until he took a pair of sticks in his hand and began rubbing them together that Shoryu realised just how difficult lighting a fire was. Without Reizo's jutsu it was nearly impossible. With this in mind, Shoryu figured out a plan. He knew that fire needed wind to survive and that it grew stronger from wind, so whenever his two stakes finally seeped a thin layer of smoke he blasted it with the Air Slash Stream, only to find that he quickly put out the small flicker he'd made, either by overpowering it or cutting it in two.

During his ordeals the dragon simply sat and watched the silhouette of his master trying to generate enough friction to start a fire. Once his eyes had adjusted the tiny creature realised exactly what Shoryu was attempting, and so he hopped forward with a little squeak and tried to help. Filling its lungs with a white-hot flame, the dragon suddenly expelled a tiny inferno onto the bundle of wood Shoryu had collected.

At the same time though, the boy thought he saw smoke once again between the dry sticks he rubbed together and fired off his jutsu in a feeble attempt to start the fire. From opposing angles, Shoryu's imprecise blast of wind and the dragon's breath of fire collided. Like the eruption of a paper-bomb the fire expanded and billowed out suddenly into a six foot flame that made both Shoryu and his tiny friend leap back in fear.

By the time Shoryu got to his feet the explosion had simmered down into a small campfire like he'd originally intended, though already he'd seen the deadly effects of combining wind and fire. He leant past the flame and looked to the cheerful looking dragon, grinning as an idea came to his head. With this new summon he didn't need to go through more advanced training to master another element; however tiny its flame might be, Shoryu could, in time, use wind to expand and manipulate the fire to his will.

"It looks like you're not so weak after all," he said.

.

Author's Notes: Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late - I went on holiday for five days, my bad for not mentioning it in the last chapter.

So yeah, I know this wasn't the most detailed chapter but hopefully it helped satisfy a few of the unanswered questions whilst posing a few more (I seem to be going all J. on you guys). Finally Kazuya is warming up a little but even if he and Shoryu do end up becoming best of friends I'd still like to keep this weird relationship they have going because it's really fun to write. After all, it's not uncommon for friends to be constantly trying to annoy each other.

I never actually realised how familiar Kazuya's backstory sounded until I read over it - Both parents gone, raised by an aunt who wasn't on speaking terms with his mother? Now all we need is a cupboard under the stairs =S Actually whilst I'm on that subject - go watch the new Harry Potter film! So sad to see it go - for fourteen years it's been one of the frachises I followed the most; my childhood was practically built on Harry Potter.

Got a drawing of Reizo coming up with the next chapter as well, and I'll probably draw in the Daimyo Raikyogan that he has, so that should be fun :D