Samurai Souls:  Part 7    Holes
Kajite Gray       YoroidenGi@aol.com


    Sage cursed under his breath. The traffic had been bad, and 
he was late. Someone had parked in HIS parking space, and he 
was stuck in the back of the school lot. He swore again when he 
saw the dent in his side door of his forest green Honda. This day 
was NOT starting out well. Throwing on his jacket, he ran for the 
school building. He had to fight his way through the press of 
students all trying to beat the bell. He liked to arrive early, so he 
could parade in coolly and beat the crowds. No such luck today. 
His hair was getting messed up and he'd gotten stepped on several 
times. The din of voices and tumbled thoughts of the students were 
giving him a major headache. He wasn't used to this chaos.
    Sage fought his way to his locker somehow. Hurriedly grabbing 
his books, he slammed the door and turned toward class. He began 
fighting his way back upstream. Everyone seemed to be going in the 
opposite direction HE was trying to go in. He brushed shoulders with 
a thin young man shoving by him.
    A surge of ragged blue colors rushed past and through him. The 
air seemed to collapse inward around Sage. His eyes widened in 
horror.
    Holes.
    The pain hit him like a stone wall. Sage's world tilted as white-hot 
agony tore through his mind. His legs buckled, pitching him to the 
floor. He caught a glimpse of its source.
    Rowen.
    The young man Sage had just passed in the hall was wounded - 
his soul had been.... damaged somehow. There were holes in his aura. 
His hurt was so raw that his soul screamed, raking into Sage's 
sensitive mind with hot claws. Sage cried out, clutching his head in 
a futile attempt to block it out. There was no escape. He hardly felt 
himself strike the floor. His body contorted helplessly. The pain in his 
head sharpened, crushing him in its grip. The vague hope that he 
wouldn't throw up this time vanished. Agony clawed his insides, 
ejecting his breakfast forcefully all over the floor. He was dimly aware 
of the swirl of disgust and pity churning around him. He gasped for 
breath. The excitement of the crowd battered at him like a wild surf. 
The overbearing surge of emotions was too much for Sage, and he 
retched again, the pain inside twisting him like a knot. He was too 
sick to feel the shame of being in such a pitiful state. 
    "Out - out! Get out of the way!!" 
    A commanding voice forced the gathered crowd back a  little 
giving Sage some releif. He looked up weakly to see one of his 
instructors and two hall monitors pushing the students back. The 
taller of the two upperclassmen gestured angrily.
    "Beat it, Vultures - you guys got classes." 
    No one moved. The young man drew himself up sternly.  
   "You all have exactly 5 seconds to scram before I start handing 
out detention slips!"
    That was enough to get them moving. Sage managed a thin smile. 
Totoro took his job seriously. The students shuffled off reluctantly. 
The girls were the last to leave. They hung back to gape and whisper 
about his predicament.Their devotional pity stung Sage like a series 
of open-handed slaps. He curled up defensively into a ball.
    Totoro knelt beside him, shooting a menacing glare at the girls.
    "Geez, Sage - what did you eat?"
    "My......  head...." Sage managed to grate out, eyes tightly 
clenched shut.
    "That again? C'mon...  let's get you to the Nurses' Office."
     Sage tried to shake his head, but that proved a bad idea.
    "Can you stand?" 
    Sage tried, but sagged to the floor - his legs would not support 
him. He had to lean heavily on Totoro and the other monitor to make 
it to the Nurse's Office. The Hashiba kid had not stuck around, and 
the pain in Sage's head was slowly leaving him. But he felt so dizzy, he 
was afraid he'd pass out. He let himself be half-carried to the Infirmary, 
doing his best to ignore the stares of passing students. There was no 
way he could block out their emotions, though. Pity, curiosity, 
amusement, disgust, alarm all swirled around him in a storm of confusion. 
Whatever damage the Hasiba kid had suffered was enough to tear down 
all of Sage's sheilding. The encounter had left him defenseless.
    The Head Nurse looked up in startlement when the trio walked into 
the Infirmary. She looked Sage up and down briefly.
    "Young man, you look like shit," she announced.
    Sage nodded slightly, acknowledging her diagnosis. He FELT like 
shit, too.
    "Migraine," said Totoro, as if that would explain everything. "Can 
we lay him down?"
    "You had better - before he faints right here on the floor." Marion 
waved an arm toward an adjoining room. "Put him in there. We'll take 
good care of him."
    Sage made no protest as they laid him down on the faded green 
couch. Too weak to say anything, and afraid he'd throw up if he tried 
to open his mouth, he turned his face to the wall. He shut his eyes 
and let the darkness close around him and take him away. He did not 
notice when the Nurse silently drifted in and laid a blanket over him.
    Marion tapped her pen on the clipboard. According to the report, he'd 
collapsed and thrown up in the hall. With no warning at all - fine one 
moment, deathly ill the next. She coiled a piece of her greying brown 
hair around her fingers, frowning down at her patient. This did not sound 
like normal Migraine activity. She suspected something more.  What was 
making this young man so sick? Perhaps exhaustion, perhaps the flu. 
Either way, he was in no shape to be in class. With the hope that this 
would pass with some rest, she left him to sleep.  

    Kento stared blankly down at his History book. The words made no 
sense; the numbers were useless tangles. The names of all the important 
people were unintelligible knots of letters. He rubbed his eyes, grimacing. 
This was worse than usual. Ever since his class had switched to 
Romanized text, he was struggling more than ever. Didn't anyone use 
Kanji anymore? That, he could sort of  handle, but Hirigana and Romanji 
killed him. He squinted at the page, trying to sort out the jumble of letters. 
It did no good.
    "Well, Mr. Fung? We are all waiting for the answer."
    Kento gave his instructor a helpless look, but found no pity there. The 
other students began to fidgit and giggle when Kento remained silent.
    "Can you tell us the name of the Emporor in 1611, or are you going to 
keep us all in suspense?"
    " I - I don't know what is is."
    The instructor's eye fostered a nasty gleam.
    "It is right in the book, Fung. Right there in front of you."
    The class tittered again, and Kento felt his neck grow hot.
    "I.... " the words swam. He wasn't even sure where on the page he 
needed to LOOK.
    "I can't....  it's not... "
    CRACK!
    The pointer hit the book right in front of his nose, making him cringe.
    "READ it."
    Kento felt helpless and angry, like he always did when this happened. 
The teacher KNEW he had Dyslexia. Commanding him to read in front of 
class was like asking him to strip naked. It was that humiliating. A long 
minute ticked by. Despite his shame, Kento met his teacher's gaze 
unflinchingly with smouldering indigo eyes.
    You're loving every second of this, aren't you, you tyrranical shithead? 
thought Kento. 
    A small, humorless smile touched the corner of the instructor's mouth.
    "You are saying you cannot read the words? They are not so difficult - 
my eight year old daughter has no trouble with them. Perhaps she could 
help you." 
    Kento opened and shut his mouth, outraged. He was being bullied and 
he knew it. He ground his teeth in silent frustration, longing to knock this 
self-serving bastard through the wall. The silence grew longer, punctuated 
only by the snickers of the class. 
    "Well?" Professor Nagori folded his arms.
    He's going to make me say it, thought Kento. He was so angry he 
could barely see.
    "Can you read it?"
    "No. Sir. I can't read it."
    The laughter of the class burned his ears. It wasn't fair - he wasn't 
stupid, but things like this made him look like a Class One Idiot. Nagori 
passed him the perfunctory bucket of water.
    "Then you may stand in the hall until I send for you."
    "Yes, Sir," grated Kento, hating him deeply. He stalked out into the 
hall, lugging the pail of water. He was forced to suffer the further 
indignation of wearing the "Slow" sign around his neck. 
    He ended up standing in the hall for a long time, his fingers growing 
numb from the weight of the bucket. Why did Nagori always do this to 
him? It was hard enough to concentrate on his studies without being 
constantly humiliated. No wonder he was failing History.
    Kento sighed, shifting his grip. At least his parents wouldn't get mad. 
They understood. It hadn't always been that way. It had taken his father....  
quite some time to recognize that his son wasn't stupid.
    Kento pushed that unhappy memory back, focusing instead on some 
rather brutal fantasies of what he would like to do to people like Nagori. 
None of the scenarios were pleasant.

    Sage was swirling unsteadily inside his head, shifting between light 
and darkness. He drifted in and out of reality. Slowly, consciousness 
returned. He blinked witlessly at the gray wall in front of his nose. He 
had no idea how long he'd been out. Where was he? 
     Oh.... 
     It took him a minute to remember that he was in the school Infirmary. 
The memory of what had put him there made him moan and clutch his 
still-throbbing head. Sometimes Empathy REALLY SUCKED.
    "Are you feeling any better?"
     Gentle fingers touched his shoulder. With an effort, he rolled over and 
opened his eyes slightly. The plump, pretty Nurse's Aid watched him 
with concern.
    "Are you allright?"
    "Uhhh...." was the most intelligent thing he could manage. She was out 
of focus. Little glimmers of light shuddered at the edges of his vision. 
Despite this, he managed a sly wink. 
    "I feel...  a  little better. Now that...  you're here." 
    This was partly true. At least he didn't feel like he was going to throw up 
all over the floor again. Adrianna shook her head, making her long brown 
curls swing. She knew Sage a little too well to buy the act he was putting 
on. He was trying to sit up, which was the last thing he ought to be doing. 
He was doing a very poor job of it. 
    "Just lie down already! You're too sick for break-dancing right now," 
she admonished.
    Unable to sit up, Sage dropped back with a ragged sigh. He looked like 
shit. Elegant, well-groomed shit, but shit nonetheless. Adrianna pressed a 
glass of juice into his hand; his fingers felt clammy against hers.
    "Drink that. I'll get you another blanket."
    Sage was too tired to protest, and let her cover him up with the grey 
flannel blanket. She had to help him hold his head up so he could drink 
his juice. Sage's pride stung him a bit that he needed help just to do that. 
But he felt so weak. When he was finished, he sank back wearily and 
closed his eyes. Adrianna looked down at him in worriement as he slid 
into a half-doze beneath her. His face looked so pale, pinched with pain. 
She wished they had something  more than just aspirin to give him. She 
knew he suffered from Migraines, but is was unlike Sage to be so sick. 
This time he seemed worse than ever. To her he seemed like a fragile 
porcelain doll that might shatter without warning. 
    Too sick to move, Sage stayed right where he was. The only good 
thing about this was all the attention he got from the pretty student 
Nurses. He remained alone in the Infirmary for awhile - until word of his 
illness spread. Then the place was innundated by throngs of "sick" girls 
who were suddenly stricken with the need to see the Nurse. Marion 
grew wise to this quickly, and soon dismissed them all as Lovesick. 
Her patient was in no condition for all these visitors. It was time to send 
this boy home. Both of his parents worked, so there was little chance of 
reaching them. She had other resources, however.
    A certain student owed her a favor.

    Kento was still standing in the hallway, silently fuming when the 
monitor tapped him on the shoulder.
    "Hey, Fung - you get in trouble again?"    "Stuff it, Kinaeda," he 
growled.
    "Some way to talk to an UpperClassman! You should show a little 
gratitude. I'm here to get you off the hook."
    Kento shrugged apologetically. 
   "Sorry - Nagori really let me have it."
   "Screw him."
    Kento laughed.
    "No thanks to that!" He uncurled his cramped fingers from the 
handle of his water bucket gratefully.
     "What are you here for?"
    "Come with me and bring your things. You're wanted in the 
Infirmary."
    "What for?" complained Kento. "I already had my flu shot this year, 
and I'm not having another!"
    "Chill out - nobody's gonna use you for a pincushion. Adrianna and 
Marion asked me to fetch you."
    "Oh."
    Kento knew what THAT meant. He owed the nursing staff a few 
favors for the medical supplies they gave him to use on Rowen. Kento 
didn't mind being on call. It was certainly better than getting harrassed 
by Nagori. He grabbed his books and jacket from his desk, allowing 
himself to shoot a triumphant look at his teacher. For today, at least, 
he was free of this obnoxious bastard. Ducking back out in the hall, 
Kento  resisted the urge to flip him the bird. That might get him into 
real trouble.
    Glad to be relieved of classes for the day, he walked down the hall 
with Kinaeda.
   "What did they want me for - did they say?"
    The black-haired boy shrugged, passing him half a forbidden candy 
bar. There was officially no eating allowed in the hallways, but neither 
cared to enforce that rule.
    "Some kid got sick. His parents both work and he needs someone 
to take him home."
    "I know how that is," remarked Kento, chewing noisily. "I don't mind 
playing escort."
    Kinaeda stopped him.
   "You got a friend?"
    "Huh?"
    "Marion said to bring a friend - says it'll take two of you. This guy's 
pretty sick."
    "Hmmmm. I can think of someone."
    Kento grinned, waving at Kinaeda from the door to the Office.
    "Thanks, man - I owe ya one."
    Kinadea gave him a mock salute and strode off on his rounds. Kento 
turned to go in, but the door was opened for him. He found himself 
almost nose-to-nose with a cute, petite red-haired girl. He puffed his 
chest out grandly.
    "Hello, Cutie! Can I give you a little Love-Therapy?"
    She wrinkled her nose delicately.
    "In your dreams, Horse-Face." 
    Kento winced. That one hurt. She swept past him, followed by 
two more girls who looked equally irritable. Scratching his head in 
confusion, he stepped into the Office. 
    "Busy place in here today," he commented.
    Marion looked up.
    "Oh, good - you're here. We need an escort for a very sick young 
man. He needs to go home."
    "Sure," agreed Kento readily. "Anything to get out of History." 
    "Nagori being a bastard again?"
    Kento grinned. He liked Marion's grasp of reality.
   "As much as always. Where's the sickee?"
    "He's in there," she said, nodding toward the sickroom. "Did you 
find a friend to help you?"
    Kento smacked himself in the head.
    "Duh. Sorry - can you get Cye Mori for me? He'll help. I think he's 
in 305 right now."
    "Certainly. And...  if I may ask. How is our friend Rowen doing?"
    Kento gave her a dispirited look. 
    "I wish he'd get out of there. His Dad was knockin' him around 
again last week."
    "Bad?"
    "It was bad enough. I'm gonna need some more of those gauze 
thingies." 
    Marion sighed. There wasn't much she could do about the situation. 
Child Services in their district was rather limited in their authority. 
Unless Rowen decided to act, he was on his own. Kento's back 
twitched. He knew their hands were tied. He cleared his throat 
uncomfortably.
    "Where, ah...  where is the guy I CAN help?"
    "Go on in - he's resting now. Adrianna is with him."
    Kento stepped softly into the darkened sickroom.
    "Hey, beautiful," he calleded to her.
     Adrianna waved at him to be quiet. Kento's eyes widened when 
he saw who was on the couch.
    "Hey - what's the Girl Magnet doing in here?"
    "Be nice," warned Adrianna, adjusting Sage's blanket. "He gets 
Migraines and had a bad attack this morning. He collapsed in the 
hallway."
    "Oh yeah, I heard about that." Kento leaned close and nudged him.
    "Spilled your guts for everyone, huh pretty boy?"
     Sage managed to fix him with an acid stare for a few moments 
before he was overtaken by another bout of dry heaves.
  "Shit!" muttered Kento. "Easy there...." Mentally kicking himself for 
being flippant, he rubbed the young man's shoulder. 
    "Idiot!!" hissed Adrianna, her green eyes flashing dangerously. 
" Don't be such a wise-ass. He's really sick!!"
    "Sorry," mumbled Kento, wincing a bit under her glare. The guy 
really did look pretty bad. It had not adversely affected his popularity 
with the ladies however. Kento smiled a little as he realized that Sage 
was the reason for all the girl-traffic. While he waited for Cye to arrive, 
he watched half a dozen more girls file in and out of the Infirmary. 
Marion turned them all away, ignoring the poorly concealed snickers 
from Kento. After a litttle while, Cye wandered in. He was nearly run 
down by a trio of "desperately ill" girls determined to invade the Infirmary. 
They were soundly rebuffed. Cye retreated to the safety of a corner as 
the group was propelled out as fast as it had come in.
    "Hey - mind telling me what's going on here?" Cye crossed his arms 
self-conciously over his chest.  "What did you drag me out of class for, 
Marion? It's not like I'm sick or something." 
   Kento had to laugh at his friend's nervous behavior. 
  "Relax. I asked ya here."
  "Kento!" He turned to him.  "What are you doing here?'
   Kento's reply was delayed as he got a good look at Cye's face.
   "Shit, Cye! Who hit ya??"
   "You did, Dummy! Remember?" replied Cye cheerfully. "Relax - 
it don't hurt much." 
    Kento was taken aback. He felt guilty all over again seeing that 
eye. It was purple and black, swollen half shut. The bruising 
extended halfway down his face. Cye couldn't have been being 
honest - it had to hurt like crazy.  
    "Aw, Cye, man - I am SO sorry -" he went over and took Cye's 
face in his hands, peering worriedly at his eye.What Rowen had 
done to him was bad enough, but this -   Cye pulled his head away.
    "Cut it out - you're worse than my mom! I'll live." He jerked his 
thumb at Sage.
    "What happened to Ken Doll here? He looks like somebody ran 
him over with a truck."
    "Oh yeah - that's why we're here. Marion wants me to take him 
home. He's pretty sick."
     Cye edged away nervously as Sage began dry heaving again.
    "So what do you need ME for?"
    "If he passes out again, we'll hafta carry him. And that's easier 
done with two sets of hands."
    "Ok.... " Cye looked less than eager.
    "Hope ya don't mind me pullin' ya out of class."
    "Nah. Science is over, and I'm not that fond of Ancient Literature."
    Kento made a face.
    "Me either. I got to get out of History class myself - thanks, 
Adrianna!"
    She dropped him a wink. 
    "In that case, you owe us another favor!"
    Her look darkened when she saw Cye. She took him firmly by 
the arm and sat him in a chair.
    "Hey! What's going on here?"he protested uselessly.
    "You look even worse than you did yesterday. Let me see your 
face." 
    He squirmed, losing his patience with all the attention.
    "I'm ok, I just - OW!!" he jerked in pain when she pressed an 
icepack to his eye.
    "Hold that there. You look like you've been kicked by a horse."
    "Horse's ASS, maybe..." he grumbled, glaring at Kento out of 
his good eye. 
    Kento held up his hands defensively.
    "Hey - don't look at me - I just broke it up! Somebody had to 
keep you nuts from killing each other."
    "Shame on you," scolded Adrianna. "Don't you go messing up 
one of the cutest faces in the school!" 
    Cye blushed, nearly matching the pink sweater Adrianna was 
wearing. Kento hid a laugh behind his hand. The look on Cye's face 
was priceless. Kento nodded towards Sage.
    "Let's sign out Sleeping Beauty here so we can take him home."
     Sage didn't stir. Adrianna looked up from tending Cye.
    "Let him rest a few more minutes. I want Cye to keep himself on 
ice for a little while." 
    Kento shrugged.
    "Ok - Cye, why don't I go get our stuff from our lockers and I'll 
meet you back here."
    "Sure...." said Cye, who looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to 
be left alone with Adrianna.  Kento hurried off to gather their things. 
He for one was glad to have an early end to his school day. 
    Adrianna leaned close to Cye, making him jump. 
    "Relax - I don't bite. Not hard anyway."
     Cye's auburn brows edged a touch higher at this. 
    "Hey, are you two SURE you're best friends? He really clocked 
you." 
     Cye smiled, even though it hurt his face to do so. 
    "Yeah. I'm sure. He didn't hit me as hard as he could have." 
    Adrianna looked unconvinced. With friends like that, who neded 
enemies?
    By the time Kento returned with their bags and coats, Adrianna 
had Sage on his feet and ready to go. Kento looked at him warily. 
The guy looked ready to puke again, and he didn't exactly look 
forwards to being thrown up on. 
    "Do you think he'll make it? He looks terrible."
     Despite his misgivings, he allowed Adrianna guide Sage over 
so he was leaning on him. Sage looked like he didn't know which 
way was up right now. 
    "He should be ok - just keep a hand on him so he doesn't fall over." 
    "Right," muttered Kento, wrapping a thick arm about Sage's waist 
to keep him upright. He waited while Cye picked up their books. The 
muscles in his back tightened; he was supporting most of the young 
man's weight. Sage was not above hooking an arm around Kento's 
neck to steady himself.  With Cye on the other side of Sage, they 
headed for the door.
    "Hey," said Adrianna, stopping them. "I've got something more for 
that eye." 
    "Not more ice," protested Cye. His face was half-frozen from that 
stupid pack. 
    "No," she assured him, edging closer. "It's not something cold." 
    She gently kissed him on his bruised cheekbone.
    "Does that make it feel any better?"she whispered. Cye blushed 
furiously, feeling his face getting hot.           
      "Uh.... um, yeah...
ah...." he babbled foolishly. 
    Kento laughed, shaking his head.
    "Man! Why can't I get some medicine like that?"
     Adrianna looked at him speculatively.
    "Hmmmm.  Get someone to throw you down a flight of stairs, and 
I'll consider it," she offered sweetly. 
    "Ouch," commented Kento. "I think I'll be going now - before 
somebody takes you up on that."
     He half-carried Sage out the door, ushering a still-blushing Cye 
before him. 

    The ride home was not easy. Sage did not fare well, having to 
lean his full weight on Kento and Cye for most of the way. The 
swaying train and lunch hour crowds were no help. By the time 
they arrived in Yokahama, Sage was looking very green indeed. 
They had to change for the bus at Kento's place, and decided to 
stop off for awhile. Sage was looking quite ill. It was best to give 
him a break from traveling. The fresh air at the train platform revived 
Sage a little. He glanced up at Kento in weak confusuion, wondering 
who in the world the walking sun was. 
    There was SO much energy surrounding him. Waves of vibrant, 
positive energy rolled off the young man holding him upright. This 
energy was completely different from what he had experienced earlier. 
Sage was so dazzled by the light, he couldn't see who it was who 
was supporting him. But it was someone... very strong.....
     "Shit," mumbled Kento, as Sage sagged in his arms.  "Help me 
with him, Cye - he's sick again."     Between them, they managed to 
carry him the twelve blocks to the resturaunt. Sage was fortunate. 
Being unconcious spared him the embarrassment of being stared at 
by passersby. 
    "Back door,"grunted Kento, pulling Sage up the steps. "Maybe 
Mama will have something for him."
    "I hope you're right."
    Cye half-tripped over the threshold, trying to hang onto Sage, 
keep his balance and open the door all at the same time. 
    Mama, busy filling plates for the lunch crowd, looked up at the 
commotion. 
    "What are you doing home so early? Is there something wrong?"
    Kento and Cye staggered in, supporting a very pale, very 
un-Japanese-looking boy between them. The stranger was tall and 
very fair-skinned, his blonde hair falling over one glazed grey eye. 
He stumbled as they brought him over the doorsill into the kitchen. 
He looked sick.
    "Is he allright?" she asked. "He looks like he's ready to-"
    The young man shuddered, his grey eyes going wide with panic 
as he clapped a white hand over his mouth. She knew what THAT 
look meant.
    "Get him upstairs - quick!! I don't need him throwing up in my 
kitchen!!"
    "C'mon, Sage," Kento muttered, half-carrying him up the steps. 
Sage tried to stumbled up them as best he could, fighting back the 
nausea rising in his throat. The smell of all that cooking did NOT help. 
   Mama stared after the strange trio for a moment, wondering where 
in all Japan they had dug up a tall blonde-haired boy.
    Grunting and struggling, they managed to haul Sage up the narrow 
steps and headed for Kento's room.      
     Kento dropped his books on the bed, handing Sage off to Cye.
    "Take him in the bathroom - I'll be there in a minute." 
    Cye got him there just in time. Sage DID throw up, again, body 
twisting in helpless spasms. It seemed there was no end to it. Cye 
knelt beside him, mumbling words of comfort. By the time it was 
over, he was utterly spent, gasping on the bathroom floor. Sage lay 
still, grateful for the cool tile under his cheek. He felt wrung out and 
helpless.
    "Wow - was that HIM?" Kento stuck his head in the door.
    "Yeah."
    "Did he throw up much?" 
     Cye looked into the john.
    "Gross. No, but I know he had oatmeal for breakfast." 
    Kento grimaced.
    "Thanks a lot. Now I want to throw up too."
    "Take a number," muttered Cye, rubbing Sage's back as he 
began dry-heaving again. Mercifully for Sage, the spasms didn't 
last. After a few minutes, he quieted. Cye got him a glass of 
water so he could rinse his mouth out. There wasn't much else 
he could do. Cye looked up from his position on the floor.
    "I think the worst of this is over."
    Between them, they picked up a very limp Sage and laid him 
on Kento's bed. The black and white cat who had been snoozing 
on the pillow growled in protest at being disturbed. After a moment 
the cat decided to take advantage of the warm body that had 
moved into his spot and curled up on Sage's stomach. Kento 
shooed the cat off impatiently.
    "Beat it, Malachai!! You're gonna make him puke again."
    Malachai stalked off to the elder Fungs' bedroom where he 
could be assured of an undisturbed nap. Being a cat was hard 
work; he needed his sleep. On his way, he retreived his favorite 
toy from under the bed. The shiny little ball that moved by itself. 
Malachai picked it up in his teeth and trotted down the hall. 
Kento hadn't seemed interested in playing with it, so this was 
his toy now.
    The ball between his teeth glowed suddenly, the vibration 
causing his whiskers to tremor. That tickled. Malachai dropped 
the ball. He shook his head furiously. Sleep forgotten, he 
pounced on the thing, suddenly charged with energy. He did a 
back-flip, chasing and batting the ball across the floor. A 
miniature charge of electricity prickled his paws every time he 
touched it. It was a great toy! It was better than styrofoam 
peanuts, better than catnip - it was even better than a wad a 
paper. Malachai continued his mad dance across the carpet. 
This was more fun than any one cat should have.

    Kento shoved a pile of books off a chair and sat down by the 
bed. Sage opened his eyes slightly at the motion and closed them 
again, as if it took all the strength he had to do it. 
   "He needs to rest awhile" said Kento. "Cye, go ask Mama what 
she has to give him. She's usually got some medicine for a bad 
stomach. I'll stay here." 
   "Sure."
   Cye padded off for downstairs, dodging the cat as it careened 
past him. Crazy cat. He slipped quietly into the kitchen.  Mama's 
broad back was to him. She was still busy at the stove, filling orders 
for the lunch crowd. 
    "Mama? He threw up - Kento says you have something for that?"
    She made a discouraged sound.
    "I thought as much. Poor thing."
    She rummaged around in a cupboard for a moment. Without 
turning around, she handed a small bottle of green liquid over 
her shoulder.
    "Try that. Just a spoonful. If he throws up again, try two."
    "Ok." He took the bottle.  "What if he's still sick after that?"
    "Then take him home! I would play nursemaid, dear, but I can't 
be away from the kitchen right now."        
     Cye ducked one of the serving girls as she breezed by him 
with a loaded tray. 
   "Ok. I know it's lunch time. Kento and me'll take care of it."
    Mama didn't answer, too busy yelling orders at the bussers. 
    Cye returned upstairs with the bottle in hand. There was no 
label. Whatever was in it looked homemade.
    "Ok, Kento - I got this green stuff and Mama says to - hey! 
What do you think you're doing?"
    Kento looked up from the side of the bed; he had Sage's 
wallet in his hand.
    "Oh - just doing a little research." He flipped through the 
expensive leather wallet.
    "Just as I thought - he's got a car. Hmmm...  blonde, grey 
eyes, 5'8" - wow, tall, too. Interesting." 
    Cye gave him a disapproving look.
    "How did YOU get that?"
    "I frisked him. Don't worry - he's out like a light. Didn't notice 
a thing." He poked through the wallet some more. "Cripes! Look 
at the cash he carries around!! He's got quite a number of 
pocket-pals in here too. This guy must lead some wild social life."
     Cye was aghast.
    "Put it back!"
    "Don't pitch a fit - I will. But I wanna find out a little about this 
guy first. I mean, who is he really?"
     Cye scowled at him.
    "What are you talking about, Kento?"
    "Haven't you noticed... ? He seems to be following us around. 
He's everywhere we are, man." 
    "Hmmm...." He looked down at Sage, unconvinced.
    "I get the feeling, Cye... he knows more than he's telling."
    "About what?"
     He didn't get to finish. Sage twitched and muttered, coming 
around again. Kento quickly stuffed the wallet back in Sage's 
jacket.
    Sage groaned and rolled over, supporting himself on his elbows. 
His head still hurt like hell. He was no longer in the school Infirmary; 
he was lying on something soft. Someone's bed. He hoped it 
belonged to a pretty girl. 
    It didn't. Unless this was a very BIG girl.....  
    "Hey, dude, you still alive?"
     Sage blinked hard, finally recognizing Kento. He had been so 
sick, he hadn't even known who was carrying him.
    "Wh- what're YOU doing here?" he asked shakily.
    "I live here, silly. And I'm takin' your sick ass home." Kento 
offered him a broad grin. 
    "Ok....." Home sounded like an excellent idea. He stood up 
and immediately wished he hadn't. He swayed violently, almost 
falling.
    "Whoops - easy there." 
    Kento caught him before he hit the floor. Sage reeled, grateful 
for the solid bulk of Kento to lean on. Beyond the range of 
Rowen's pain, he was feeling better, but he still having trouble. 
Any sheilding he used to have in place was shot. He'd have to 
rebuild his meantal walls. Until then, he was vulnerable. The auras 
of Cye and Kento were strong. At this proximity, they were 
dazzling. He felt giddy from their brilliance.  If Rowen was full of 
pain and negative vibrations, then these two were just the opposite. 
Cye radiated pristine, cheerful energy like a blast furnace while 
Kento glowed with strength like a small sun. Sage could only blink 
in awe. It was like standing in a roomful of people, but there were 
only two of them.  Coupled together, they were stronger, their auras 
practically blinding. Instinctively, Sage sheilded his eyes. No use in 
that - this was no natural light. It was like being in the presence of 
Saints. That was an unlikely comparison. 
    The Mori kid was pouring something into a spoon now and had 
the audacity to try to get him to swallow whatever it was.
    "Here."
    Sage glared at him with a look that could have peeled paint. Who 
did he think he was?
    "Ugh - take that away. What IS it?" The stuff smelled like 
peppermint.
    "A little of Mama's medicine. So ya don't toss again."
    Sage wasn't about to swallow anything. Who was 'Mama'? Probably 
that huge woman in the kitchen. Feeling just enough recovered to 
behave obstinantly, Sage turned his head aside.
    "Aw, don't do that...." coaxed Cye, trying another angle with the 
spoon. Sage kept his mouth firmly shut, jerking his chin back 
uncooperatively.
    Strong hands grabbed his head and held him still.
    "C'mon, we don't have all day!" growled Kento from behind him. 
Sage sqwuaked at the indignity of it all. Unable to pull free, he 
whimpered in protest at this treatment.
    "Hey, give it a chance," coaxed Cye patiently. "What have you 
got to lose?"
    "Not much," admitted Sage grudgeingly. He'd thrown up all he 
could. With Kento hanging onto his head like this, he didn't have 
much choice. He swallowed the stuff down, half-expecting to toss it 
right back up. Much to his releif, there was no rapid return trip for it.
    Against his muffled protests, Cye settled him under a heavy quilt 
and put a cold cloth over his eyes.
    "Just lie still. You'll feel better in a few minutes."
    Sage was unconvinced and still silently seething at the casual, 
familiar way he was being handled. But he did as he was told and 
closed his eyes. There'd be time to be pissed off later when he was 
feeling better. These two were treating him like he was a little boy. 
He was just too sick to be embarrassed about it. 
    Couple of do-gooders, he thought ruefully. Just what he needed. 
A Pity Parade. His head still throbbed, but he allowed himself a quick 
feel at what they were thinking about him.
    He found himself surprised. And a little intrigued.
    They radiated not the pity he had expected, but a deep and honest 
concern for his well-being. They barely knew him, and they were 
actually worried about him. Sage was used to dealing with the usual 
shallow pity and feigned interest human beings offered a fellow human 
in distress. Most people just homed in on themselves without extending 
much beyond a passing concern about those around them. He was 
unaccustomed to encountering someone who actually gave a sincere, 
honest shit about what happened to the person next to them. For 
some reason he could not fathom, both Kento and Cye gave a major 
damn about what happened to him.
     He wondered why that was.
     Despite his irritation with them only moments before, Sage 
suddenly felt much better just knowing he was in their company. 
Something seemed to fall into place within him. An odd feeling off 
peace washed over him and he allowed himself to do something he 
never did in the presence of others.
    He relaxed.
    Cye blinked, feeling a queer pressure inside his chest. He placed 
a hand over his heart, as though he hoped to reach back to whatever 
it was that had touched him. As soon as it had happened, the 
sensation passed. He looked over at Kento, who had a funny look 
on his face too.
    "What is it?" asked Cye. Kento thumped at his own chest, 
looking uncomfortable.
    "I think those meatballs I had last night are comin' back to haunt 
me," he joked. As if to affirm this, he burped loudly. Cye shook his 
head, not so sure that it was only meatballs, but unable to offer any 
saner explanation. 
   After half an hour, Sage announced quietly that he was feeling 
better. He let himself be helped into his coat. The three of them had 
to dodge the black and white streak that was Malachai as they went 
through the den. Kento shook his head.
    "Schizoid cat!! Wonder what the hell is wrong with HIM?"
    "Your cat," shrugged Cye. "You should know."
    Carefully guiding Sage downstairs, they took him to the bus stop 
and escorted him home.


    A light mist had begun to fall in the chilly air, slickening the 
concrete roadway. The air felt heavy and grey around them as the 
bus let them off at the adress Sage had given them.   
    "Here we are," announced Kento,shivering slightly in the cool 
dampness. He shielded Sage with his coat against the cold. The 
complex they were standing in front of was huge. Kento was 
convinced that not all of it could be the medical building.   
    "I had no idea Date Clinic was so big..." he murmered to Cye, 
who was staring up at the huge grey and white building. His blue 
eyes were large. 
    "I know this place!" he said. "My mom brought me here 
yesterday to get stitched up."
    "Hey - it's a small world!" grinned Kento. "Let's go in before we 
all freeze our asses off." He huffed out a cloud of steam, doing his 
impression of a Sky Dragon. Cye shrugged - he hadn't noticed the 
chill.
    "Hey man - zip your jacket! It's COLD out here!"
    "Yes, Mommy," teased Cye, zipping up so he'd stop fussing. 
    They guided Sage up the walkway, through the entrance and into 
the lobby. The interior of the building was all white tile, with sparkling 
fixtures and bright lights. A few stern-looking rubber plants provided 
the only color. Kento wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of 
disinfectant. He wasn't sure he cared for this place - it was too 
clean. He poked Sage.
    "Man - this is some pad. You LIVE in a hospital?" 
    Sage shook his head, wincing at how bright it was in here. 
    "Just...  take me up front."
    Kento shrugged.
    "Your wish." 
    They took him up to the front desk, under the disapproving 
stare of the white-haired woman sitting behind it. Kento winced 
a little under her glare. She looked like she'd been build right 
into her surroundings, all starched and unpleasant. The woman 
reminded Kento of how witches were supposed to look. The 
stern-looking orderly scowled over her glasses at them. Her 
violet eyes widened when she recognized Sage.
    "My goodness - and what are YOU doing here? You've been 
giving the young ladies such a hard time that the school threw 
you out again, eh?" 
    Her tone was teasing, and Kento was surprised when she 
reached out to pat one of Sage's white hands that were gripping 
the edge of her desk. At least she knew how to smile. Sage 
managed to smile weakly in return, putting a hand gingerly to 
the side of his head. 
    "Say no more, dearie."  She waved them down the hall.  "You 
gentlemen take him to room 4B. The Doctor will be with you shortly."
    "Thanks, Mrs. Z," offered Sage over his shoulder. 
   They made their way down the wide hall together, with Sage still 
leaning most of his weight on Kento and Cye. Kento glanced back 
in the direction of the lobby.
    "Wow - she's nice. To look at her, you'd think she eats nails 
and little kids for breakfast!"
    Cye shrugged.
    "She seemed nice to me."
    "She's nice allright," remarked Sage. "But don't ever get her 
mad! If you do, it's Armageddon."
    Once in the examining room, Cye and Kento paced the room 
while Sage perched uncomfortably on the paper-covered  table. 
Cye crossed his arms, glancing around the small room nervously. 
He hated hospitals. One trip here was more than enough. Hospitals 
did not make him think of health and healing. They only brought to 
mind illness and death, no matter how bright the place may be. His 
father had died in a hospital. 
   Kento caught his look. He walked over and put a steadying hand 
on Cye's shoulder. 
   "Are you okay?" he whispered worriedly.
   Cye was staring blankly at the floor.
    " I'm....  yeah. I'll be ok."  The sooner they were out of here, the 
better.  The clock on the wall ticked monotonously. "Wonder what's 
keeping the Doctor?"
    "I hope he comes in soon," muttered Kento quietly. "I'm getting 
hungry!"
    The door to the room creaked open. A tall, attractive blonde-haired 
woman wearing a white lab coat entered. Her rather anxious grey eyes 
softened when she saw Sage sitting there. She smiled at him with 
such open affection that Kento was left breathing a trifle hard. He had 
to look hard at the clock to make sure it hadn't stopped. The woman 
walked over to Sage.
    "What happened, darling - are you alright?"
    She put her arms around Sage, holding him close and smoothing 
his hair. He leaned against her tiredly. Kento and Cye exchanged 
stunned glances. This was some bedside manner!
   "Hi, Mom," mumbled Sage wearily. 
    Kento smacked himself mentally in the head. Oh. Of course, 
Stupid.
    Judith peered into Sage's pale face.
    "What is it, dear? Another one of your headaches?"
    "Yeah," he winced at the memory. "It was worse before though...  
I feel a little better now." 
    His mother pressed a glass of water into his hand.
   "I'll get your pills."
    She selected a small vial from the supply cabinet and dropped 
two blue capsules into his palm.
    "Thanks," he said, downing them gratefully.
    "You know, I wish you would take them with you." 
    Sage grimaced. His head still throbbed. The last thing he needed 
right now was a lecture. Seeing her son's expression of pain, Judith 
let the subject drop. She checked him over breifly, taking his pulse 
and listening to his heart. Sage remained hunched and silent, far 
from his usual talkative self. His silence was a cue that he was 
definitely not well. She brushed his hair out of his face.
    "You look like hell, kid. I'm prescribing a quiet weekend. No going 
out. Period."
    Sage gave a tired shrug to indicate that he understood, even if he 
didn't agree. Judith gave him a reassuring hug, wondering why he 
didn't just collapse on the spot. He looked thouroughly wiped out.   
Shaking her head at him, she turned to Cye.
    "And what are you doing back here, then? Any problems?"
    "No, ma'am," said Cye. "We just brought him home."
    Judith touched his face.
    "Does your lip hurt?"she asked, inspecting his stitches.
    "No," he mumbled around her fingers.
    "It does look better. How's that eye?"
    "Much better, thanks. I, uh, had some ice on it earlier.
     Kento snickered rudely, earning a foul look from Cye.
    "And this..." Judith indicated Kento with a wave of her hand. 
"...Must be the 'Gorilla' that hit you."
    "What?!" cried Kento.
    "That is how how described him, wasn't it, Sage?" 
    "Uh...." Sage flushed, the first good color he'd shown since 
that morning.
    "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled, squirming uncomfortably. 
Judith smiled. If Sage was well enough to be embarrassed, he 
was feeling better.
     Kento shrugged massively.
    "Ah...  I been called worse."
    "Well, uh, thanks for bringin' me home." Sage pushed his 
hair back with the heel of his hand, frowning as if just that 
gesture made his head hurt. He was squinting a lot. Kento 
wondered if the flourescent lights in the room bothered him. 
Judith handed a quart of Gatorade to her son.
    "Drink this down."
    Sage made a face.
    "Aww Mom...  that stuff's terrible." 
     She gave him a no-bullshit look.
    "Your electrolyte balance is way off - I can tell just by looking 
at you. Now you can either drink this.....  or I can arrange a nice 
little IV for you."
    "Gimme the Gatorade," he huffed. He'd drink a gallon of the 
stuff before he'd submit to an IV.  He sipped, grimacing at the 
taste.
    "Bleah."
    Judith smoothed his tousled hair back. It kept falling 
stubbornly over his one eye.
    "Dear, if you were so sick, why didn't you come home? You 
know how your headaches get - they worry me."
     For some reason, Sage suddenly looked guilty. 
    "He didn't look like he'd make it home by himself," offered 
Kento."The Nurse wanted us to bring him home."
    Judith gave him a grateful look.
    "Thank you. I'm sorry you boys had to miss class."
    "I'm not!" grinned Kento. He liked Doctor Date.
    "I wouldn't have been able to come for him myself," she 
continued. "Things have been busy here today, and my husband 
is working at the Dojo."
    "The Flying Dragon?" guessed Kento.
    "Yes, that's it."
    "Hey - I go there twice a week for Judo."
    "I'm surprised you haven't run into Sage there. He's quite 
good with the sword."
     There was a note of pride in her voice.
    "Do you work with a blade?"she asked.
    "Not me," laughed Kento. "I'm better at knocking things 
down with my head!"
    "I can see that," murmered Sage quietly.
    "Hey!!" Kento glared at him. It was nothing compared to 
the look Judith leveled at him.
    "You will be civil, Sage. He went to the trouble to bring 
you home."
     Sage muttered something that barely passed as an 
apology, gulping noisily at his Gatorade. Judith offered Kento 
an apologetic look. Sage was capable of being very bitchy 
when he was coping with a migraine. She reached for her wallet.
   " I owe you boys a little something." She extracted a bill. 
Kento held up his hands quickly.
   "No! I mean, thanks. But you don't have to pay us."
   "Take it," she insisted, stuffing the money in his pocket when 
he wouldn't take it from her hand.
   "That's to cover your bus fare. With some leftover to...."  She 
eyed Kento's girth. "... Well it should feed one of you, at least."
    Before Kento could protest, Doctor Date shooed him and Cye 
out into the hall.
    "You two boys go on. I have a lot of work to catch up with here."
    "Ok - uh, is he going to be allright?" Kento peered worriedly 
past her.
    "Oh, he'll be fine," she said, with a cheerfullness that did not 
entirely fool Kento. She brushed her wavey blonde hair back from 
her face with the same gesture Sage used.
    "Thankyou again for bringing him here."
    "Sure thing."
    The door closed, and Cye and Kento were left staring at each 
other blankly in the hallway. Kento was the first to speak.
    "Well, YOU were awfully quiet. What cat got your tongue?"
    "Kento...  did you see the same thing I did?"
    Kento clapped him on the back hard enough to almost knock 
him over.
    "I sure did! Man, she is a knockout!"
    Cye gave him a disgusted look.
     "Not that, you idoit! Sage.... did you see the way she was 
acting?"
    "Well, he IS her kid....  the lucky stiff."
    "I meant, she's so worried about him. I'm sure this has 
happened before."
    Kento's expression turned serious.
    "What do you mean, Cye? He justed fainted...." he paused. 
"And he threw up a coupla times."
    "Kento, he is really sick! I mean seriously sick. There is 
something very not-right about him."
    "Maybe he's got his hair on too tight," joked Kento. But 
there was no humor in his voice. Cye was right Whoever he was, 
this boy was decidedly unhealthy. They were both silent as they 
walked out of the complex and into the cool air.
    They stopped at a tiny storefront for some Ramen and 
candybars. Cye doubted this would hold Kento til he got home. 
They stood around for awhile, eating and waiting for the bus to come. 
Kento kept shivering and stamping his feet against the cold. He 
wondered why Cye wasn't doing the same.
    By the time the bus pulled up, Kento was thoroughly chilled and 
was glad to get on the overheated bus. 
    "Do you think Sage will be ok?" he asked as they rumbled 
towards home. 
     Cye shrugged, looking uncertain.
    "Well, if he's going to be sick, he's in the right place."
    "You know, I was kidding earlier when I asked him if he lived in a 
hospital....  do you think he does?" 
    Cye made a face at him.
    "Don't be silly. I'm sure he's got a real home someplace."
    Kento folded his arms, leaning back in his seat.
    "I hope you're right, Cye."



    The bus pulled away from the curb with a blast of exhaust 
as Kento and Cye ran to the Fung resturaunt. Cye was careful 
to stay BEHIND him. It was not wise to stand in Kento's way 
when he smelled food!
    They thumped up the back steps to the kitchen.
    "Man am I hungry!" declared Kento, for the third time in ten 
minutes. 
    "Hey, Mama!" he yelled as they came trooping in. "What's 
to eat?"
    Mama, who was stirring miso soup at the stove, turned towards 
them. Here gaze fixed on Cye for the first time that day.
    "Oh, Fish!!" She dropped her spoon with a splash. "Who did 
your EYE?!" she fairly shrieked. 
    Cye jumped, and Kento stared at her. She never went into hysterics 
when HE came home with a black eye. Mama just blinked at Cye for a 
moment, shocked by his condition. She had been so busy before with 
Sage and the lunch crowd, that she had hardly looked at either of 
them. Now she was cradling Cye's face in her hands, turning him to the 
light and fussing over his bruises.
    "Sweet Little Fish!" she exclaimed. "Your poor eye!" 
    Cye squirmed uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
    "It - it's really not that bad."
    "Not that bad!! It looks like someone hit you with a house!" She 
clucked over him, shaking her head at his injuries. His bruised nose 
and scuffed jaw had not escaped her notice. 
    "I want the name of the hooligan who hit you!" 
    "Well, I did get in a fight with Rowen yesterday, and -"
    "I know that - and I also know he doesn't hit THIS hard! Some big 
bully hit you in the eye, and I want to know who!"
     Her eyes narrowed when Cye kept silent. 
    "Young man! I asked you a question - WHO DID YOUR EYE??" 
    Cye was  a lousy liar, and it was worse when he tried to stay 
quiet. He looked unhappily at Kento, unwilling to incriminate him. 
Mama followed his gaze. 
   "Well??"
   "Uh..."mumbled Kento.
   She read her son's guilty look. 
   "You??!"
    Kento jumped. Shit, she was fast! The heavy wooden spoon 
was already in her hand.
    "Give me a hundred and one very good reasons WHY you had 
to hit him - before I set your tail on fire!"
    Kento gulped hard. He was doomed - he hadn't seen her this 
pissed off sice he wrecked the car last year. Cye, braver than he 
was wise, stepped between them. 
    "Mama, stop. It was...  sort of my fault. Please don't kill him. 
I'd miss him."
    "How was this YOUR fault?" Mama still looked angry. The back 
of the spoon tapped the countertop impatiently as Cye formulated 
his defense.
    "He had to break up me and Rowen somehow. He just kinda... 
cuffed me. I'm ok."
    Her brows furrowed. She shot a look at her son.
    "You still hit him, yes?"
    "Just once!! Rowen hit him LOTS of times!"Kento was backing 
away, frantically looking for a way to escape.
    "It doesn't matter. There was no excuse to hit him."
    "Yeah, but - "
    "'But' nothing - you're still in hot water." 
    "But he JUMPED me!"
     Mama stopped. She turned and stared at Cye.
    "YOU jumped KENTO???"
    "Yeah." Cye looked guilty.  "Y'know, if you whip him, you 
gotta whip me too. I started it." 
     He prayed she wouldn't calll his bluff.
     Instead, she started to laugh.
    "Oh, Fish - that was not a bright move!! What WERE you 
thinking!?" She couldn't seem to stop laughing. She dropped 
the spoon on the counter.
   "Allright, Kento, you're off the hook. After all, you had to 
defend yourself from this....  brute!" She dissolved into giggles.
   "I don't see what's so funny about it," pouted Cye. 
Nevertheless, he was releived. At least she wasn't mad anymore. 
Kento gave him a grateful thumb's up. Carnage had been averted. 
Mama wiped her eyes on the corner of her apron, gesturing to Cye.
    "Come here, young man - let me see that eye."
     Cye protested without much spirit as she started in on him.
    "Between you, Kento, MY Mom, and SAGE's Mom, I'm being 
fussed to death!"
    "Don't forget about Adrianna's special treatment,"  winked Kento.
    "Oh, shut up!"  hissed Cye furiously.
    "And what 'special treatment' would that be?" asked Mama. 
Kento slapped his knee.
    "She KISSED him, man! It was just TOO funny."
    "Now, Kento, don't tease," Mama scolded, collecting her medical 
kit.
    "Sit," she commanded, pushing Cye into a chair.
    "Put your head back."
    Knowing better than to argue, Cye did as he was told. Mama's 
large hands were gentle as she worked.  She carefully applied a 
dressing and damp cloth over his eye, doing the same for the rest 
of his bruises until only the end of his nose showed.
   "Whfg's goinf on?" he protested, voice somewhat muffled by the 
cloth. 
    "Stay still," she admonished, adjusting his bandages. "This will 
take the swelling down."
    "What is that stuff?"  
    Whatever she'd put on him smelled like herbs.
    "One of Mama's little secrets for patching up bad boys who fight. 
Now sit still."
    "I'm all wrapped up like a mummy!" he complained. He could hear 
Kento chuckling behind him, which didn't improve his mood any. Cye 
fidgited.
    "How long do I have to sit here?"
    "Half an hour, then you can get up."
    "A half hour! But I'm hungry right now!"
    "You and Kento are surely brothers!" Mama laughed. She dished 
up a plate of food and handed it to Kento.
    "Feed him."
    "What?! But what about me? I'm starved!"
    "Not likely that you are. Once he's eaten, you can have some 
dinner."          
    "But Mama!"
    "Don't whine, or I'll give you a real reason to whimper. Consider 
this your punishment. You get to eat AFTER you've fed him." 
    Cye grinned smugly to himself, secretly loving the whole idea. 
This had to be real torture for Kento.
    Grumbling, Kento began hand-feeding him vegetable Chow Mein. 
Cye couldn't move his head because of the wrappings on his face. 
He decided not to give Kento a hard time, since he was hungry. He 
ate as quickly as Kento would feed him. Which was pretty fast. Cye 
needed no encouragement. Mama's food was magnificent. Things 
went well until Kento tried to give him a glass of water. Unable to 
raise his head to drink, Cye nearly half-drowned in the process. 
    "Oops," mumbled Kento, trying not to laugh. Cye spluttered 
indignantly at him. Deciding he was better off without Kento's 
help, Cye refused any further attempts at feeding.
    Kento shrugged. More for him. He began digging into his own 
plate.
   As soon as they let him, Cye sat back up. Ruefully, he blotted 
water and Chow Mein off himself. He rubbed his stiff neck. At least 
his face felt better. 
    "Thanks, Mama."
    She reached out and ruffled his hair, then Kento's.
    "You warriors - promise me there will be no more fights."
    Kento grinned, ducking her hand.
    "No more fights. Between me and Cye, at least."
    Cye laughed at the poisonous look Kento got from Mama.
    "It's something, at least," Cye defended.
    "I suppose. I can't expect much better." 
     She sat down with them for a few minutes, getting herself a 
late lunch while there was a lull in business. Their conversation 
turned to Sage.
    "And how is your friend? The one who was so sick earlier."
    "Your medicine worked. He was a lot better when we left him," 
remarked Cye, deciding not to tell her how ill Sage had seemed 
to him. He didn't want to worry her. Kento, bolting down his 
second plate of Chow Mein, paused long enough to shoot him a 
questioning look. Why hide this from Mama? It wasn't like Cye 
to be less than truthful. He went with the flow, however, putting 
in his two yen.
    "He'll be ok, I think. His mom's a Doctor."
    "Good. When he is all recovered, bring him over for dinner 
some night."
    Kento exchanged a look of trepidation with Cye. He wasn't 
sure that Sage the rich yuppie would consent to eating here. 
Mama's feelings would be hurt if he refused, though.
    "Well, I'll try. I'll ask him, but he's not really my friend. I don't 
know if he'll come."
    "No?" Mama looked disappointed. "He seemed like a nice boy."
    "I don't really know him," explained Kento. "I see him around 
at school, but I never even talked to him before today. He wouldn't 
have been here if he hadn't been sick."       
    "Well." Mama finished her bowl of Ramen and stood up. "Then 
it seems that fate has thrown you three together. Perhaps you were 
meant to be friends."
     Kento scratched his head.
    "I dunno. He kind of keeps to himself. Except where the girls 
are concerned!"
    Mama frowned at him.
    "I'll have none of that rude talk here. You just invite him over."
    "Ok, I will," mumbled Kento, wilting a bit under her glare.
    "C'mon, Cye. I think you better go home before your mom 
starts to wonder where you are."
    "Shoot!" yelped Cye. The clock read past 4:30. It was a bad 
night to be late.
    "I better not break curfew tonight! Mom won't let me go to 
Aquarium tomorrow if that happens."
     Kento tossed him his bookbag.
    "Then you'd better move your tail. I don't plan to go all by 
myself!"
    "I can't wait, Kento - Okanashi is so cool!"
    "Well, don't oversleep," he warned. "I'm gonna be at your 
place by eight."
    Cye grinned eagerly, shouldering his bag.
    "Don't be late - I want to see my friends!"
    They both laughed, with Kento fairly pushing Cye out the 
door so he'd catch his bus home. Kento was in a hurry to see 
him off. There were rules in his own house too. If he didn't do 
his homework tonight, neither one of them was going to get to 
go.


    Rowen walked the darkened streets of his neighborhood, 
hands shoved deep in his pockets. His breath formed 
smoketrails in the clear night air. He had originally been headed 
straight for home. The night was cold, and he'd looked forward 
to a hot cup of tea and some relief from the wind. It was not to 
be. He  had heard his father throwing furniture against the wall as 
he was coming up the apartment steps. And he had turned right 
around, preferring to freeze rather than get beaten up again. He 
knew far better than to enter the house when his father was like 
this. Now he trudged aimlessly along the darkened roads alone. 
He passed sagging tenaments with peeling paint and abandoned 
storefronts. Wandering onto a nameless street, he paused to 
throw stones at a tattered billboard. Broken glass littered the 
sidewalk. He kicked at it listlessly.He had no money in his 
pockets, but he despearately needed something to eat and a 
warm place to stay.                   
    Rowen hung around one of the local shops for awhile, 
sniffing hungrily at the food smells until they threw him out. 
No one wanted him around. He slouched dispiritedly against 
a brick wall, letting his body slide down until he was sitting on 
the dirty sidewalk. Rowen hunched miserably on the street 
corner, wondering what he could do for money. Short of stealing 
it of course. The last thing he needed was to be arrested. He 
preferred his freedom to a jail cell. Even though prison was 
warmer and they fed you there. It would not look good on his 
academic records if he got sent to Juvenile Hall. Places like 
those scared him.
     Rowen sat on the cold concrete, trying to ignore the hollow 
ache in his stomach. People filed past him without a glance. 
Someone threw a few yen at his feet. Big help. That wouldn't 
even buy coffee. He stared at the ground miserably, getting 
colder by the minute. And hungrier. 
    A pair of well-shined brown oxfords stopped in front of him. 
Rowen frowned at them, wishing bitterly that people wouldn't 
stare at him. He hoped it was no one he knew. It wasn't. He 
looked up to see a well-dressed, handsome man in his thirties 
gazing down at him. There was an expensive watch on his left 
wrist and two gold rings on his hand. The man gave him a kind 
smile. 
    "You look hungry, boy. Would you like something to eat?" 
He held out a well-manicured hand.
    Too hungry to be on his guard, Rowen took the proferred 
hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. The man shook his 
head sympathetically, brushing some of the dust from Rowen's 
jacket.
    "Been having a hard time of it, I see. You're thin. Have you 
been on the streets long?" 
    The man's dark brown eyes glowed with concern. His smile 
was so welcoming that Rowen let himself relax a little.
    "Just tonight. I - my father's a real....  Well,  it's just not safe 
for me to be at home right now if you know what I mean." He 
pulled back his jacket to show him the bruise on his collarbone.
    "That's terrible! He shouldn't treat a pleasant boy like that. I 
can't imagine what's wrong with him."   
      Rowen warmed to 
the man's sympathetic tone. It was hard finding anyone who'd 
listen to his troubles. 
    "Thanks. It's not easy living with him. But it's better than 
the streets."
    "It's not so terrible. A smart boy like you would be better 
off out here than with him."
    Rowen's back twitched, a small warning note tugging at the 
back of his mind.
    "How so?" 
     The man's hand came up, brushing the hair back from 
Rowen's face.
    "You need to ask. You're bright enough to figure it out. 
You're a handsome boy. We get you cleaned up and fed, and 
you could turn a few heads!"
     His finger traced Rowen's jaw softly.
    "Might want to let those bruises heal up."
    Rowen shivered, suddenly colder than he'd ever been. 
The man's smile turned from kind to predatory, his jeweled 
hand closing on Rowen's slight shoulder.
    "A boy like you could make a lot of money out here. You 
could buy whatever you wanted. You'd  never have to go hungry." 
    Rowen's body seemed frozen. Horror gripped him. The guy 
was a Pimp. He wanted him to turn tricks...  He brought his face 
close to Rowen's. 
    "I can help you."
    Rowen tore loose, giving a hoarse cry. He fled in terror, away 
from those beckoning eyes, the sinister smile. He'd never do... 
that.  He'd die first. He ran, sobbing with dread, not looking back 
for fear that the Pimp would follow him. Only when he was certain 
no one was after him, did he dare slow down. He sought refuge in 
a public park. Too scared to sleep at ground level for fear of  what 
was down there, Rowen hitched himself up high in a tree. It still 
had some leaves, which provided him with some cover from prying 
eyes and a little insulation from the cold air. Not that it mattered if 
the cops saw him. He didn't really care if they picked him up now. 
Anything was better than running into that Pimp again.... 
    A shudder coursed through him at the thought. He shivered, 
clinging tighter to the branch and peering down fearfully through 
the leaves. He was only fifteen, for Christ's sake. Who'd want to 
do a fifteen-year-old kid? Shit, he really WOULD kill himself 
rather than lead a life like that. 
    Hoping that there truly was a Hell so his father and the Pimp 
could both burn in it, he curled up and tried to sleep. The 
memory of the Pimp's terrible, hungry eyes would not let him. 

    The Pimp had not followed him. There was no sense in 
running after him. It would look very bad for a guy in an 
expensive suit to be chasing a scared pretty boy down the 
street. He didn't need for the cops to pick him up. The Pimp 
stayed on the sidewalk, regretting having lost the blue-haired 
kid. Some of his clients liked exotic fare. 
    He shrugged, leaning against the lamp post. There would 
be others. There were always others. Maybe he'd get lucky 
and this kid would change his mind. A week on the streets, 
and he'd be begging for the chance to sell himself to some 
rich bastard. 
    He leaned nonchalantly against the post as the beat cop 
drifted by, trying very hard to look like a guy lighting a cigarette 
instead of a Pimp hustling for desperate kids. 


       

    Cye picked up the ball from his nightstand and frowned at 
it. The ice-blue crystal glowed softly in the dim light. He stared 
at it for several seconds before lifting his gaze to the open 
window. A late September wind blew into the room. The curtains 
fluttered in the stiff breeze. He was standing there with his shirt 
off as ice crystals flitted around him.  There was frost on the 
windowledge. Instead of freezing, he felt only slightly cool - he 
wasn't uncomfortable at all. Cye approached the window, blowing 
a frosty breath into the air. It was NOT his imagination. It was 
damned COLD in here, but he just did not feel it.
     This was an experiment, and it was creeping him out. The 
ball was obviously protecting him somehow...  no way. Maybe 
he was just toughening up. Or maybe it was the ball. But how 
could that be? It couldn't be. But it might be. There was no way 
it could be -
  Cye growled and shook his head, sick of arguing with himself. 
There was only one way to find out. He closed his fist determinedly 
over the ball and stalked down the hall to Kami's room.  Before he 
could talk himself out of doing it, he knocked on her door. When 
his sister opened it,  she whistled.
    "Hey - look at you. It's Mr. Chippendale!"
    Cye flushed. He didn't usually walk around without his shirt.
    "Oh hush -I was getting ready for bed. And...   and....." 
    The ball in his hand seemed to burn icey cold, and he 
suddenly felt hot. He almost forgot what he was going to say.
    "Well?"  Kami was growing imaptient. She tossed her auburn 
hair out of her eyes. "What did you want? I'm not going to stand 
here all night."
   Cye jumped.
   "Oh - uh...."
   "What's that in your hand?" she asked suspiciously. "That 
better not be another snail!"
    He had to grin - she was terrified of snails.
    "No, it's..."   His hand tingled fiercely. It was like he was 
hanging onto an electric fence. Before he could think the thought 
that the ball did not WANT to go to Kami, he thrust it out at her.
    "Here. Do you want this?"
    "Ooo! Cye - that's so pretty!!" 
    She snatched it up, cooing over it.
    "Can I really have it?"
    He hesitated, wondering if he should have passed it off so 
easily. He felt very queer now that he was not holding it anymore. 
Like someone had taken a piece out of the middle of him. Kami 
glanced at him.
    "Well?" She was turning the ball over.  "This looks like a pearl 
or something - what is it?"
    "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I have no idea what 
that thing is, Kami."
    "Well,whatever it is, you must have been holding it awful 
tight. It's so warm!"
    "It's what?" 
    "Feel it." She laid the ball against his cheek.  It burned him 
with its iciness. Cye jerked back as though he'd been bitten, a 
fearful look in his eyes. His sister stared at him.
    "What is wrong with you, Cye? You're acting so weird."
    "I- " Suddenly, he could not answer. A tremor shook him and 
he wrapped his arms around his bare chest.  He was COLD.
    "Shit, Cye - put on some clothes! You're shaking like a leaf!" 
Kami tossed hima crocheted afghan. "I'm telling mom you're 
wandering around like that."
     Cye glared at her, huddling into the afghan.
    "Don't be a tattletale, Kami. I'm fine."
    She had her doubts about that - his teeth were chattering, 
and his eyes looked wild. She shook her head at him. Little 
brothers could be so strange sometimes!
    "Go to bed, Cye - you look awful." 
     With that she ducked back into her room and took the ball 
with her. Cye was left blinking at her closed door for a witless 
minute. The cold snapped him out of his stupor and he ran, not 
to his room, but to the bathroom. He needed to warm up big 
time. Cye drew the bath as hot as he could stand it and plunged 
in. The windows steamed up from the heat, but he still shivered. It 
took a long time for the warmth to seep through to his bones. The 
water was much hotter than he usually liked it, but he could not 
seem to get warm. Cye refused to dwell on what this meant, 
concentrating instead on the whorls of steam that drifted up from 
the water's surface. He hoped no one would catch him shivering 
the hot water like this. There was no reasonable explanation for it. 

    Kami turned the blue-white crystal over in her fingers, wondering 
where Cye had gotten it. It must be glass, she decided. There was 
no way HE could afford something like this if it weren't. She set it 
in her jewelry box. It looked distinctly out of place among her colorful 
rings and the necklaces with kittens on them. She cocked her head. 
Odd. The little ball didn't seem to shine with the same brilliance now 
as it had when Cye was holding it. Maybe it was the light in her room.
    Shrugging, Kami flopped down on her pink and white bedspread to 
read for awhile. Tonight was Friday, and she could stay up late. 
Opening her new Harlequin romance novel, she began to read.
    

    Cye stayed in the tub for a long time. He only got out when 
his mother tapped on the door and asked him if he was planning 
to spend the night in there. Taking the hint, he reluctantly stepped 
out. The cold air was like a blow, knocking the breath from his 
body. He toweled off hurriedly, scrambling into his warmest 
pajamas and flannel robe. He returned to his room for a book and 
was struck by how cold it was in there. Belatedly, he realized his 
window was still wide open. He shut it with a bang. Ridiculous to 
have a window open in such weather. What had he been thinking? 
Grabbing his fuzzy slippers, he cranked up his heater and left the 
room. It would take a while for things to warm up enough for him 
to sleep in there. 
    Still shivering, he went into the kitchen for a hot cup of tea. He 
was on his way back out, hands cupped around a steaming mug, 
when he ran into his mother. Her eyes widened at his attire.
    "Cye Mori - have you lost your mind?!"
    He blinked at her in confusion. She waved a hand at him.
   "An hour ago, you were whining about how hot you were - and 
now I find you dressed like this!!"
    "Um...."
    "What is a Mother to think?"
    Cye fidgited uncomfortably. There was no good explanation for 
this. 
    "I, uh....  I got chilly, I guess," he offered lamely.
    "Honestly, Cye! Are you feeling well?" She pressed a hand to his 
cheeks and forehead.
    "Are you sure you don't have a fever?" 
    He backed away uneasily. 
    "Really, mom - I feel fine."
    "You don't LOOK fine, young man. I think you may be sick. Let 
me take your temperature."
    "Mom!!" he protested feebly. But there was no defense when she 
was in one of her moods and he knew it. She fetched the thermometer.
    "If you're not well, I don't want you going out tomorrow," she 
declared. "All that damp air at the Aquarium - it's not healthy, Cye!" 
    "But MOM!!"
    "Open up."
    "Honest, I feel fine. You don't have to-"  She cut him off by sticking 
the thermometer under his tongue. Cye bore the indignity patiently as 
she fussed over him. Of all the times for her to get it in her head that he 
was sick! There was no way he was letting her keep him home tomorrow. 
After a few minutes, she retrieved the thermometer and squinted at it. 
Cye couldn't tell by the faces she was making whether this was good 
news or bad news.
    "It's normal. That's strange."
    " I TOLD you I was okay."
     His mother looked unconvinced. 
    "I am still calling Mrs. Fung. I want you to stay home tomorrow."
     Cye shot up out of his seat.
    "You will NOT!!"
     His mother just stared at him. Cye never raised his voice to her, let 
alone disagreed. For him to be so angry was terribly unlike him.
     "What - has -gotten - into - you?" 
     Her voice was almost a whisper. Kami, having heard Cye yell, had 
stuck her head out her door to see what the fuss was. She retreated 
hastily before things escalated. Maternal detonation seemed immenent. 
No sense in being hit by flying debris when their mother exploded. 
    "I'm going to the Aquarium with Kento tomorrow, and that's IT!!" cried 
Cye loudly.
    His mother frowned, blue eyes hardening. Her voice was tense.
    "Don't yell at me - please."
    Cye ran a  hand over his face. Playing the emotional balancing act 
with his mother sometimes wore him very thin. He steeled himself to 
be patient.
    "I'm sorry," he said softly, glancing at her from between his fingers. 
"We had this planned since last week. I REALLY want to go." 
    Seeing the determination in his eyes, she compromised.     
    "Not if you're sick. If you're sick, you are staying home."    
    "Not if I'm sick," he agreed quickly. "If I've got a fever tomorrow, I 
won't go."    
    To Cye's surprise, she let him off with that.
    "Allright. But I want you to get a good nights' sleep. You have a 
long day ahead of you."
    "Ok, Mom."
    "BUT - I will be checking on you in the morning." She shook a 
warning finger at him.  "If you are the slightest bit -" he cut her off by 
kissing her.
    "Goodnight,  mom - I love you."  
    He escaped into his bedroom before she could lecture him further. 
She was left shaking her head. Cye had been so moody lately.  All the 
fighting he had been doing in school troubled her. And now this. He 
seemed like a different person. Settling down with the cup of tea he'd 
poured but never touched, she set her chin in her hand. Maybe this was 
just a teenage thing. She hoped that's all it was.
    

    
    A cold wind creaked through the trees outside, a naked branch 
scraping at the windowpane like a grasping dead hand. Sage started 
at the thin sound and sat up in bed. Oblivious to her bunkmate's 
restlessness, Minx purred sleepily. She shifted to commandeer the 
pillow, tucking her nose between her patchwork paws contentedly.
    Sage shivered, peering out into the night with haunted grey eyes. 
He tried to tell himself nothing was out there, but that old lie had lost 
its usefullness a long time ago. There WERE  Things out there....  
terrible Things. In the fathomless blackness outside, terror lurked. 
Sage abandoned his attempts at sleep and uncurled from his 
bedsheets. He padded barefoot over to his desk and sat down heavily 
in the oak chair. The house lay silent around him. It was the middle of 
the night, when the mortal world slept and the other one, the one next 
to it, stirred fitfully at the edges of his mind. Sage had always hated 
the dark. During the daytime he chased it back with bright lights and 
a loud voice.
    But those were slim defenses now. At night, the fear rose up to 
take him prisoner and make his existance hell. Sleep was impossible. 
Every time he tried to settle, some small noise or prick of his senses 
would snap him to alertness. Exhausted, Sage shielded his throbbing 
head with his hands, trying to block out the random chaos he still felt. 
Things stirred at the fringes of his mind, rustlings and flutterings and 
snatches of voices he could not comprehend.
    The psychic overload he had experienced earlier that day had torn 
away his mental sheilding, leaving him open to every bit of random 
energy imaginable. Color oozed from every object in the room. This 
was not the usual way he sensed the auras of things.The patterns 
were hazed and smeary, like spilled watercolors. And bright. Much 
to bright to look at. 
    He tried to stand, but staggered. Stripped of his defenses, he was 
vulnerable to everything. Even the sleepy thoughts of late commuters, 
blocks away, clamored loudly in his head. He could feel the tree 
outside the window slowly drawing in on itself in the slow way that 
plants do, readying itself for the coming winter. He even heard the 
dogs. Heard Minx. Knew exactly in an instant what had gone on in 
her day. Felt what she felt. He tried to connect to the warm, relaxed 
state of her furry mind, in an effort to calm himself down. It was little 
help.
    A dull blue pulse of pain flared in the distance. Unconsciously, 
his mind turned in that direction. He recognized its source at once. 
It came from the same boy as this morning. Shock, fear, disbelief - 
a wave of chaotic emotions surged at Sage.
    He clutched his head frantically, shutting himself off from the vision. 
He was too weak to handle it now. He had to back away. If he looked 
too close, he might go mad.
    The jangle of unfiltered emotions from everyone within miles 
seemed to rise up at him, raking at his naked senses. It was like 
tuning in to a hundred radio stations at once and knowing exactly 
what each was saying. Sage jerked his head from side to side, 
eyes shining with pain. The psychic bombardment was unrelenting. 
Complete mental overload threatened to send him screaming over 
the edge.
    He had no choice but to protect himself. It was tearing him apart.
    Forcing himself back to reality, he crawled to his closet and 
yanked out a large white bag. It was unmarked, but the power of the 
thing surged through Sage's body like an electric shock.  In too much 
pain to be neat, he dumped the contents out on the floor. A tangle of 
candles and brackets spilled out in disarray. This was powerful stuff, 
meant for warding off demons. But worked very well against all 
psychic assaults. Sage knew that if he didn't ward himself NOWand 
COMPLETELY, he'd be a mindless, jibbering idiot by morning. The 
strain had already frayed his sanity. The strain had already frayed 
his sanity.
    With hands that shook, he set up the candles. Eight brackets of 
nine around his room. Managed to light them without setting fire to 
himself. They were plain white candles, ones that had been blessed 
by priests. A single charcter of warding had been carved into each 
candle. Sage knelt and arranged nine more around himself in a circle. 
These last were huge - six inches wide at the base and nearly three 
feet tall. He lit them as well. Sage repeated a single, fervrent word of 
protection as he did all this, mentally pushing back the chaos that 
pummeled at his mind. He focused his concentration on the word. It 
was his only salvation.
   The word was "nothing".
   And that was what he would feel for at least a week after performing 
the spell. Nothing. No empathy, no night terrors, no emotional storms, 
no trespassing in other peoples' dreams. It also meant no intuition, 
creativity, ingenuity or compassion. 
    It was a trade he was more than willing to make. Anything to make 
it STOP. To psychically castrate himself was perhaps not the best 
solution for the problem at hand, but he was desperate and this was 
all he could think to do. 
    He cast clear seawater and Bay Laurel in a wide circle around 
himself, still chanting. Sweat streaked his brow. He could feel 
himself shutting down now, the tide of madness receding. His last 
move was to cast the salt. 
   Sage stood in the center of his ring of candles, deliberately 
pouring a heavy circle of salt in a wide arc around him. More than 
a pound of it. As the pure white streamed down, Sage felt himself 
grow numb. It was as though someone were slowly drawing a heavy 
curtain across his senses. The clamor of emotional static subsided, 
leaving a hushed void in its wake. Sage felt as though he were melting. 
The circle of white closed, and his mind went completely blank. It felt 
like a massive door slamming shut. He dropped to the floor with not 
enough wit left to stand. 
    Silence. Blackness. Emptiness.
    Nothing.
    It was like being struck deaf and blind. He huddled on the carpet 
for several minutes, stunned by the stark silence. His body quivered 
slightly as his tired brain slowly staggered back to semi-working 
condition. He blinked sluggishly, dimly aware of the sputter of nine 
times nine candles and the steady drip of wax. Vision returned gradually. 
Sage lifted his head shakily from the carpet, almost afraid to look up. 
Nothing strange greeted his eyes. He saw only candles. Plain, ordinary, 
boring white candles. In an ordinary room in an ordinary house on an 
empty street. He breathed out slowly. The place looked normal.  There 
were no auras or glowing colors around things. It was nice to look 
around his room and NOT see everything lit up like a city block. He 
nosed around cautiously with his mind, struggling to sense anything 
beyond the black wall he'd set around himself. He was dimly aware of 
the cat snoring on his bed, of the tree branch that still scraped at his 
window. Could feel the gentle warmth radiating off the candles. That 
was all. Beyond what his ordinary senses could detect, he felt nothing.
    Sage raised up on his kness, mind adjusting now to the emptiness. 
All but his most basic senses had been obliterated. The silence was 
incredible. He closed his eyes, savoring the PEACE of it all....   
    Tears slid down his face. Everything was so blessedly still. He 
wished this could last for more than a few days. But he knew that he 
could not...  SHOULD not close himself off from the world forever.
    It was, however, a terrible temptation to do exactly that. 
    His gaze wandered over the brackets of white candles and a 
small smile tugged at his pale lips.
    Christ, he thought. It looks like a Sting video in here.
    He'd be cleaning wax off the carpet for days. No matter. He rather 
looked forward to the mindless task.  Sage sat back on his heels. His 
mind felt incredibly clear. In this eddie of calm, he was able to reflect 
rationally on what had happened to him earlier. He frowned down at his 
white hands folded in his lap. 
    It was all because of that Hashiba boy. Just touching him had 
sparked off a cascade of horror that spun everything into a 
downward spiral for Sage. How could one person hold so much 
pain inside? At once he  felt a stab of pity for Rowen. Whatever 
had hurt him had also reached out to Sage. It had been powerful  
enough to throw him to the floor and shatter all his carefully 
constructed mental barriers at a blow. If it made HIM feel that bad....   
    Rowen must be in constant agony. 
    It was the holes that had disturbed him the most. Rowen's aura 
was scarred with ragged, gaping voids that oozed wretchedness 
and pain. Only truly sick people had those. His life could be nothing 
more than a constant misery if his aura looked like that. 
    Sage could not imagine what had hurt him so. 
    Or rather, he did not WANT to imagine it. He had a few guesses 
as to what had happened to Rowen, but he did not begin to let 
himself imagine those horrors now. He clutched himself, feeling cold.
    From his brief encounter with Rowen, it was obvious that his pain 
was ongoing, Every time a healing had begun, the old wounds to his 
soul had been ripped open afresh. Sage had gotten no clear picture of 
what might have happened to Rowen, but whatever it was, it had been 
terrible. 
    The truly damning thing was that it was sure to happen again. There 
was nothing he could do to prevent that. Sage drew a hand across his 
burning eyes, feeling suddenly weary.
    His body was shutting down, shoving him towards sleep. This time 
he did not resist it. There would be no nightmares tonight he knew. 
No dreams at all. No visions of disasters he had no way of preventing, 
no wild fantasies, no other-wordly battles with undead enemies. Just 
black velvet sleep. Aching, Sage dragged himself to his feet.
    Slowly, he dismantled his circle and extinguished the candles. 
His movements were slowed by his mental lack of feeling. He had 
to look at things now before he picked them up  or moved them. 
Otherwise he'd end up knocking things over. He could not sense 
where things were. He moved like a sleepwalker, putting things 
away. His parents knew he was into meditation and "all that new 
age stuff". But he was not sure what their reaction would be if they 
saw his room  the way it looked now. He swept up the salt, pushed 
the bag of candles into his closet and hid the spilled wax as best he 
could under some dirty laundry. He'd get down to the real cleanup 
later. He had the whole weekend to worry about picking wax off the 
carpet.
    Nature tugged him in the direction of the bathroom. After he had 
finished, he peered foggily into the mirror over the sink. For once he 
could see himself without the unearthly, shifting green aura and 
glowing eyes staring back at him. His own reflection startled him by 
its plainness. How ordinary and uninteresting he looked now. Just an 
overtall kid with drooping grey eyes, a pale face and uncombed yellow 
hair. His normally radiant eyes seemed empty. Without his supernatural 
attributes, much of his unearthly beauty had faded. He looked very flat 
without it. Sage pushed his hair back, hating how limp he looked. He 
still looked somewhat better than average, but he lacked now the spark 
that sent the girls reeling. Being up all night did nothing to help his 
appearance. He was glad he had no place to go tomorrow. His admirers 
at school would hardly have recognized him. 
    Sage wondered painfully how many of his gang of young ladies 
loved him for only that superficial glow of prettiness and nothing 
more. Probably most of them. His white hands tightened on the 
edge of the ceramic sink. He wondered if any of them really liked 
him for himself, if any would still love him if they knew the secrets 
he was living with. Sage didn't know why he saw the things he did, 
or how it was that he knew the thoughts of others, he just knew 
that he did. He had given up a long time ago trying to explain this 
to anyone. People only laughed. He killed the bathroom light, 
shutting off the train of depressing thought about how alone he 
was in all this.
    But I'm NOT alone, Sage corrected himself. He was not the 
only one around here with a soul that was too big for his body. 
Cye might not be a mage, and Kento was definitely not one - but 
both boys were at least as powerful as HE was. He'd never 
encountered anyone else like them. It was not natural to find two 
people like that in the same district, let alone standing right next 
to each other. And Rowen was a third extremely powerful spirit, 
though he was damaged. If he could knock Sage down when he 
was feeling bad....  Sage wasn't sure he wanted to see what he 
could do when he was whole. That was three...  and he himself 
made for a fourth. That was too many.
    Sage didn't know what to make of it. That sort of power 
usually resulted in warfare between those that held it. But this 
felt more like a partnership.....   It was too bizarre. Even between 
Cye and Rowen, Sage could sense a strange comraderie forming. 
As though they might eventually become friends in spite of their 
fighting. Sage wondered why he didn't feel the least bit threatened 
by these three. Together they could take him out easily. He'd 
had psychic skirmishes with rivals in the past. But he had sensed 
no malice from Kento and the others. Even the mental beating 
he'd taken from Rowen had been purely unintentional. 
    He tripped over the hall table in the dark and swore. He'd 
forgotten it was there. Normally he could navigate in the dark. 
But now...
    Mundanes need flashlights, he reminded himself.
    He limped back into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed, 
his mind still churning with confused thoughts. He wondered, 
before sleep took him, how Kento, Cye and Rowen tied into all 
this. And if any of today's hell had any connection with his 
visions of the Youja. The memory of the undead horror made 
him shudder and pull the covers up over his head. He hoped 
THAT thing was just a figment of his hyperactive imagination. 
That and the grasping armor both.
    If they weren't just his imagination, they were all in a 
shitload of trouble.


 Next Chapter: Okanashi

************** ATTENTION ALL ARTISTS!!! ***************

    I am now putting together a collection of fan art from this 
story. The collection will contain YOUR ART from chapters 
1-10 of Samurai Souls. Draw what you want, send as many 
pictures as you want. I may not use everything that is sent, 
but everyone who sends art will have at least one picture 
used. Just a few "rules":
    1) Please keep your art 8 1/2 x 11" or smaller. This is 
the page size for the book. Put several drawings on a 
page if you like.
    2) Please make your art dark enough to reproduce on 
a copier. Pen and ink are great, marker is fine, REALLY 
dark pencil is ok.
    3) Keep the art relevant to what happens in the story. 
You can send other things if you want, but only drawings 
that are from Souls will be used in this collection.
    4) Send your pictures to: 
Kajite Gray / Soul Art                                                
464 West Hill Road                                                
Vestal, New York 13850

      If you send them anywhere else, I'm not responsible 
for what happens to them.

    If you would like your artwork returned, please include 
a self-adressed, stamped envelope. Otherwise, I'll 
assume it's mine to keep. (=  If you are able to mail things 
flat, it will be a great help when things go to print. Please 
keep in mind that I am planning on an April release date for 
the book. That gives everyone plenty of time to draw and 
send things in. And it gives ME plenty of time to put the book 
together and have it printed. The books will be 100 pages or 
more (depending on fan interest) and will be professionally 
bound with plastic comb binding. It'll look pretty slick. The 
books will be in black and white, as color is tremendously 
expensive to print.
    The string attached is this: If you want a book, you will 
have to pay for one. I wish I could just give them out for free, 
but I don't have the money to do it. I'm looking at a printing 
cost of about 10$ per book.  DON'T SEND ANY MONEY 
NOW!!! If you do, I'm sending it back. Please, don't send 
anything. If you want a book, send me an email telling me 
so and I'll put you on the reserve list. If you are on the 
reserve list, you will be expected to buy a book. Please 
don't change your mind later. The print run will be based 
on how many people want a book. All contributors will be 
credited for their work, and we will list your name and 
email on the credits page so fellow online Ronin Fans can 
tell you how great you are.

    So...  sounds good? Would you like to show off your 
drawing skills to the world? Then send me art! I've enjoyed 
the positive responses and fan letters I've received so far. 
I'm glad to know so many people are enjoying this fic. It's 
been great fun to write it. I'd love to see your pictures.

   This notice will be on the next 3 chapters. If somewhere 
along the line I decide I want some specific drawings (like 
if there's nothing drawn for chapter 6 or something) I'll add 
a note on a later chapter.        Ok, all you RW fans - start 
drawing!  (=