*************************************************

 

part 2

 

"Jadeite, you disappoint me." Kunzite looked coldly down at the kneeling General. "Three of the Kingdoms finest warriors, your own High Captain among them, gone. Worst of all the offering to Metalia was also lost."

"I have no excuses Lord Kunzite."

"You were gifted with Eternal Sleep before, for your incompetence." Kunzite tapped a large crystal meaningfully.

Against his will Jadeite felt his eyes drawn to the figure frozen in the energy trap, like a bug in amber.

"Perhaps I made a mistake in giving you a second chance?" Kunzite pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"No, Lord Kunzite. I am . . .grateful," Jadeite forced the word past his lips, his soul burning at the amusement he saw glimmering in Kunzite's eyes. "The senshi took me by surprise with their tactics. I will not fail again."

"You may go." Kunzite made a dismissive gesture and Jadeite vanished.

"So my old friend," Kunzite spoke conversationally to the crystal monolith. "What do you think of your. . .self?" Kunzite's lip curled in a smile that would have made a shark nervous. "A most unexpected side-effect of my little project. I got rid of Sailor Moon but _you_ returned." Kunzite rose from his seat, adjusting his cape so that it fell smoothly from his shoulders.

"Can you hear me, in your Eternal Sleep?" Kunzite pulled off his gauntlet and caressed the crystals surface. By appearance it should have been cold and hard. Instead it was gently warm and tugged at him with an almost irresistible pull. One that would be fatal . . .or worse than fatal if he gave in to the crystals seductive call.

"Ahhhh, you want me, don't you?" Whether he spoke to the crystal or the man even Kunzite didn't know. His hand sank into the surface a few millimeters. "Beryl has a sense of humor, does she not?" Kunzite watched his hand melt into the crystal. "Eternal Sleep . . .but you're not asleep are you." A fraction more and he would touch the outstretched hand of the condemned man. "Jadeite, first among equals, Beryl's favorite . . ." Almost he could imagine the imprisoned hand straining for his. "Metalia's chief servant . . ."He stopped, no more than the width of a sheet of paper separating their fingers. Kunzite closed his eyes. Imagining their flesh meeting, hands clasping . . . pulling free into the light. Or surrendering to forever, trapped in pain . . .together.

Kunzite's back arched in delicious agony as he pulled free of the crystal. Pulling the gauntlet over his bleeding hand caused a burning pain that he could almost imagine was another hand holding his. "I have to go now. Some of Beryl's new allies are becoming fractious." He turned to go in a swirl of spider-silk. "I'm glad you're back." Kunzite gestured, plunging the room into darkness. "Beryl was too merciful."

************************************************

Jadeite strode through the dimly lit corridors, his face cool and controlled as always. It would have taken a subtler intelligence than most youma were gifted with to detect the fury behind his eyes.

"You are troubled, Jadeite?" The mind behind the soft voice was more subtle than any could imagine. "Perhaps you would allow me the honor of aiding you."

"Why, I wonder, do I feel that your aid comes with a price I would regret." Jadeite didn't slow his stride in the slightest, forcing the speaker to follow in his wake.

"You are unnecessarily suspicious Jadeite. It grieves me to see one of your nobility and accomplishments so demeaned."

"Kunzite wishes me dead, and himself on Beryl's throne. Neherenia wishes revenge on the White Moon and eternal youth, Mistress Nine," Jadeite glanced sardonically at his companion, "has no wishes except those of her master. Now what, I wonder, do you wish for?" The robed figure gasped and crumpled in on itself as Jadeite suddenly clenched his will like an iron fist. "Be as clever as your name . . ."A moan of pain issued from the face hidden beneath the dark cowl. "and return to your diamond prince." Jadeite relaxed his force, dropping his captive to the floor like an empty bag of rice. "I am dead, dammed and resurrected. Not stupid. Approach me again with your little games and we'll see what lies beneath those robes, just before I gut you like a carp and feed you to my servants." Thickening shadows crawled and slithered about the downed figure, whispering hungrily.

Jadeite smiled with real humor as the figure vanished with a sharp crack of imploding air.

"Was that prudent master?" A slim form materialized beside him.

"Perhaps not," Jadeite relaxed slightly as his lesser servants withdrew to a discrete distance. Their master needed no protection from this one. "but it was most satisfying."

"You have made an enemy." There was real concern in the voice.

"Another one, you mean." Jadeite sighed wearily. "One more can't matter. Nothing matters unless I can convince the Queen of her folly. These new _allies_ are going dismember the Kingdom like rats on a baby chick. And turn on each other once they've sucked the marrow." He beat his clenched fist against his thigh. "But no one listens to a dead man."

"You saved my life, master." The green skinned man lightly stroked the head of the tiny flower-woman growing from his breast. "Both our lives. We would have perished in the cold of space if not for you. Command us and we will destroy your enemies."

"No," Jadeite placed a companionable hand on the man's shoulder in a gesture that would have shocked any who knew, or thought they knew, the general. "I have no fields to manure with your blood. Keep yourself alive and in readiness. We will have but one chance to act, if that." Jadeite stopped at the doors to his quarters. "Perhaps I will even survive the attempt." The door closed behind him.

"Have no fear master," the figure turned away from the door in an oddly boneless manner, "you will not die again. This Fiore swears."

************************************************

"You're doing very well." Ami leaned over Soban's shoulder examining the page of kana Soban had painfully brushed. "There's one little mistake here," She took Soban's hand in hers and guided the brush. "The kana for 'a' has the cross stroke first," she drew Soban's hand across the paper, "the down stroke and _then_ a loop like this." Ami moved Soban's hand to dip the brush in ink. "You've made the down stroke and loop a _single_ stroke as if you were doing the kana for 'o'." Ami carefully moved Soban's hand through the correct motions twice more. "Do you . . ." She'd never realized how _tiny_ Soban's hands were. It made her feel strangely protective ----

"Anything wrong Ami?" Makoto asked.

Ami blinked, suddenly aware that everyone was staring at her. She realized she was still clasping Soban's hand and dropped it like a hot dumpling. "Ummm, no . . . nothing's wrong." She cleared her throat. "Do you understand the difference in the stroke order for 'a' and 'o' now?" She shuffled nervously through her papers, unaccountably feeling very flushed.

"Are you alright?" Soban looked concerned and little puzzled.

"Yes, yes. Fine. Ummm, yes I'm fine." What could she say. She didn't know what was wrong herself. "Why don't we quit for today." Smiling brightly she started cramming her books and papers into her bag feeling a little sad and lost.

"Ummmm, yeah," Minako decided she'd have a talk with Ami later, "how 'bout a little game?"

Soban groaned theatrically and the others grinned in sympathy.

"I don't know why you're upset," Rei groused, "you always win." She began setting up the game pieces.

"Yeah, if I could play like that I'd turn pro." Minako was about even with Makoto in skill which meant they both usually lived long enough to die well. Rei usually died early on in a suicidal death-or-glory charge. Ami _should_ have been the best, perhaps beating Soban, but she didn't trust her instincts and usually died second-guessing herself.

"There are professionals?" Soban looked a little ill at the thought.

"Oh yeah. It's not real big yet, but the prizes are getting larger every year." Minako informed her excitedly. "Some of the game manufacturers are starting to act as sponsors and----"

"That's OK," Soban said hastily. "I don't want to know. Geeez, and I thought things got strange at the Island." She muttered under her breath. "Well, let's get started."

"Ummmm, we've got this little problem with a game we're playing with some friends." They'd decided this would be a good "cover" to get Soban's help in analyzing their real fights with the Dark Kingdom. Makoto started helping Rei set up the board. "We . . .uhhhh . . .could you help us maybe analyze the game and . . .uhhhh . . ."

"Help you win? But wouldn't that be . . .cheating?" Soban quirked a grin at the group surrounding her. "OK, OK, turn off the lost-puppy-look." She closed her eyes in mock pain. "I give already. Why don't I take a----" She started to move from the chair, now _hers'_ by unspoken agreement, to get a better look. Before she could do more than tense her muscles Makoto had moved the chair forward, Rei pushed a footstool under her feet, Ami slid the game-board onto a table that raised it to a comfortable level and Minako appeared with a tray of snacks.

"-----look." She swept them all with a darkling glance. "You know, _some_ people like this sort of bootlicking, brown-nosing servility." She tapped a finger on the table top. "And I'm one of them. Keep up the good work."

************************************************

Soban rubbed the scar just under her blind eye. "Is that everything," she asked as Ami finished reading the notes for the game.

"Ummm," Ami flipped through the thick book outlining players, strategies and objectives supposedly for their next role playing game; but actually for their next planned move against the Dark Kingdom. "Yes . . .yes that's everything."

Soban puffed out her cheeks, then let the air out with a tired sigh. "I've got an easier way to do this----"

"Yes?" Ami and the others leaned forward expectantly.

"Everyone hold hands and repeat after me 'Our Father who art in heaven' . . ."

"Huh?" Makoto had trouble staying awake in English class.

"What!" Rei had gone to a private Catholic school .

"I thought it was a good plan." Ami's English was very good.

"I've never seen anything like it, full of tricks . . .," Soban traced a line on a diagram with her finger. " . . . traps," Soban flipped through the book, watching intricate diagrams appear and disappear. " . . .and ambushes. It's a beautiful plan," Ami started to smile. "until it turns around and bites you on the ass." Soban sent the booklet spinning across the game board, scattering the tokens like leaves. "Unless the guys playing the Generals are complete idiots they're going to beat you like a cheap rug." She thought a minute. "Actually they could be six months dead and still beat you."

Ami worried her lower lip while Makoto and Rei stared daggers at Soban. Minako shifted uncomfortably in place. She'd been a little uncertain about the plans complexity herself. On the other hand they'd been winning stunning victories with Ami in charge lately and she'd wondered if her doubts hadn't been based on jealousy as Ami gradually supplanted her leadership.

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see _you_ beat her!" Makoto thrust her chin out belligerently. "Ami's a genius and you're nothing but a----"

"Mako-chan!" Rei was furious. She didn't think Soban was right about Ami's plan but she took her duties as host _very_ seriously.

"I'm nothing but . . .?" Soban stared cooly at Makoto who flushed as she realized what she'd said. Or almost said. "I'm nothing but an illiterate, ignorant, cripple?"

The knuckles of Makoto's hands turned white as she fisted them at her sides.

"Makoto didn't mean----" Ami started, clearly distressed.

"Of course she did," Soban's voice was without inflection and her eyes never left Makoto's face. "Didn't you." It was not a question.

"Yes." Makoto was embarrassed at herself and irrationally angry at Soban for her embarrassment. "You've got some nerve putting down Ami's plan when she had to _read_ it to you." There was a sudden hiss of shock beside her and a cold leaden feeling settled in her belly as she realized what she _had_ said this time.

"I'm not as smart as Mizuno-sama," Ami felt like crying. She'd been Ami-chan just the other day. "I'm not even as smart as you are," Makoto had the grace to blush. "but I know a little about fighting, and this," Soban jerked a thumb at the game-book. "isn't just a cluster fuck . . .it's a _bounding_ cluster fuck." She moved off "her" chair to sit awkwardly on the floor next to the board.

"Let's play."

************************************************

Sailor Mercury sprinted down the alley, chest burning, frantically looking for a way out. She just needed a minute to rest. Just a----

"ZOI!"

The whirlwind of cherry blossoms slammed Mercury against the side of a building.

"Aaaaaaaaaa" Minako threw her game cards down in disgust. "I thought you said Mercury was the most powerful?" She asked Soban accusingly.

"I never said she was a kami." Soban gathered her cards and began replacing them neatly in their box.

"Hey," Makoto grabbed Sobans wrist. "You can't just quit without giving us another chance to win."

Soban glanced at Makoto's hand circling her wrist, then up at Makoto's face.

"Makoto. San." Makoto paled a little at Soban's toneless voice but didn't relax her grip. "Are you asking me to stay?"

"Uhhhhhh," something about Soban's cool relaxed gaze told her to choose her next words very carefully. "Yes, I'd like you to stay. To play another game. . .please?"

"Certainly." Soban began removing game cards from the deck and tension ran out of the room like water down a drain.

"Makoto-san . . ." Makoto looked over at Soban.

"Don't start anything you're not ready to finish."

Makoto nodded jerkily, then bent to set up her game pieces.

"Don't worry about it Makoto," Ami said wearily. She looked up from the loose sheets that held her notes for the past several games. She straightened the papers with overly precise movements and placed them carefully to one side. "You were right." She looked at Soban, then away. "This was an awful plan."

"Hey, we won the last game. And two more besides," Rei protested.

"We didn't win," Ami corrected. "We just didn't lose as badly. Out of nine games the Sailor Senshi have _survived_ three. We only defeated the Dark Kingdom once. And even then Sailor Venus, Rei-chan," Ami nodded in the direction of her friend, "was the only survivor."

"That was just luck," Makoto defended. "With a little practice I bet we'd do better."

"I worked for a kumo when I was a kid," Soban remarked casually, staring up at the ceiling, "and he----"

"Wait, wait," Rei held up her hand to stop Soban. "You worked for a _spider_?"

"Sorry, Ummmm, cat-burgler?" At the dawning looks of comprehension she continued. "He was akinaishi, _trade expert_," Soban translated the ingo, secret language, of the Japanese underworld. "He thought I might go into the business----"she stopped, shaking her head in annoyance. "The point is, he told me "one day some little shit is going to bet you ten million yen he can teach a cat to pee in your ear while doing a bon-dance on the ceiling."

"What does that have to do with any----" Makoto started to ask.

"And if you take this bet," Soban continued, "you're going to end up with an ear full of cat piss." She picked up a game token and idly made it dance between her fingers. "Never make bets unless the game is fixed, you're in on the fix and the fixers are close personal friends who owe you money." Soban flipped the small figurine of a Dark General through the air at Makoto who caught it reflexively. "I'll bet you the deed to the Island and my good eye that if we play ten more games I'll win at least six of them."

"That's crazy." Makoto sounded a little less certain than before.

"Watch," Soban lined up four game tokens across the edge of the board. "Zoicite's got a hit penalty of only one hundred thousand but his agility rating is two-fifty. That means you need to roll a nine or better to score against him." Scooping up a pair of dice in the dice cup she shook them across the board. "Seven." She rolled again. "Three." Again the dice rolled. "Eight."

"Well, yeah but----" Soban held up a finger to hush Rei.

"You've got four choke-points," She stabbed a finger at the game board, "with no fall back positions . . . everything has to go right, no mistakes." She smiled mirthlessly. "It's hard to be perfect once, four times is pushing it." She tossed the dice again. "Nine. Managed to do some damage." She grabbed the dice and tossed them from hand to hand. "You've got to roll a nine or better at _least_ four times . . .assuming you get the breaks to get Zoicite in position in the first place. It's even worse with the other Generals. I can't do the math, but I'm sure Mizuno-sama can."

"I . . .I didn't think of all that," Ami looked shame- faced at making such an elementary mistake. "She's right," Ami admitted, "there's only one chance in three of success with each roll and we'd have to get lucky four times." She gave Soban a wan smile. "I don't know why I didn't see that earlier. It's such a _basic_ part of game theory."

Soban shrugged. "Winning is making one less mistake than the other guy." She started to her feet, grimacing slightly as she did.

"Are you alright?" Minako frowned slightly in worry.

"Just a little stiff from sitting." Soban grabbed the edge of the chair and started to lever herself up.

"Have you eaten yet?" Rei asked suddenly.

"No." Soban answered innocently unsuspecting.

"Great, why don't we all go out to eat. My treat."

"Yeah, this is your one month anniversary for Ami's torture . . . errrrr . . . study sessions," Ami stuck her tongue out at Minako who just smirked,. "so we should celebrate your survival."

"I appreciate it," Soban tried to demure, "but I really need to get back to the Island."

"That's alright," Ami said cheerfully, "we'll just eat there."

Soban looked around at the smiling, eager faces (Rei's slightly pink). "You won't all fit on the back of my bike." She tried one last time.

"I'll go call a cab." Minako headed for the phone.

"This should be fun." Ami started putting her books and papers away. "Rei's told us all about your place."

************************************************

"This is a bad idea," Artemis hissed.

"I'm sorry, would you repeat that," Minako said, pushing the cat away with her free hand. "there was some static on the line." She pressed the phone against her ear as Artemis grumbled in the background. "Yes, Hikawa Jinja right across from the Upper Sendaizaka bus stop." Artemis could hear someone speaking on the other end, like the faint buzzing of an insect. "Fifteen minutes? Great. We'll be waiting. Goodby." She replaced the receiver, then gave her cohort a very dirty look.

"I was _trying_ to talk on the phone."

"And I was _trying_ to tell you this is a bad idea. All of you going off to _that_ place." Artemis put his paws on Mikako's shoulders, staring her in the eyes. "You don't know what could happen to you. I get a very strange feeling from that girl."

"You got a very strange feeling from Ami." Minako retorted. "You probably just ate some bad tuna."

"Don't listen to me," Artemis hopped off the table. "I'm just a cat after all. What do I know." He stalked toward one of the kitty door's Rei had installed throughout the shrine buildings.

"Don't be like that,"Minako coaxed. "I'll bring you something back nice from dinner."

"Just bring yourself back." He looked back over his shoulder. "I'm going on patrol. I hope you don't mind if I disturb your meal with news of a youma attack?" Before Minako could answer, the tip of his white tail had already disappeared through the swinging door.

************************************************

Padding through the darkening streets Artemis headed for the Crown Game Center. Fastidiously he stepped around a burst garbage bag. He could remember when Tokyo was one of the cleanest cities in the world and neon lights had made the city one giant carnival.

He ghosted through pools of dirty shadows, the evening breeze damp and heavy with rot.

Now, trash spilled onto the streets; no one cleaned it up. Lights burned out and weren't replaced. Everyday the darkness grew a little stronger. Just a little . . .but Beryl had time.

A sensor, not on the buildings original plans, opened the door at his approach. Artemis sneezed in the musty air. The game center had been closed for over a year. The original manager had left one day . . .looking for his vanished girlfriend . . .and no replacement had ever been found. The neighborhood had a bad reputation.

A thousand feet below ground ancient computers sent a signal to a camouflaged interface.

Artemis hopped up on the Sailor V game and touched the screen. Icons appeared and words scrolled across the bottom in a language dead for a hundred thousand years. He entered a command; more icons appeared and alpha-numeric characters crowded the display.

A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as ancient machines reported yet another increase in youma activity. His sensor coverage was spotty but some of the old installations still survived, here and on the moon. And other places. Vast computer and sensor networks, weapons platforms still alive and functioning millennia after the fall of the Moon Kingdom. He was comforted by the thought that the works of the Silver Millennium still operated flawlessly after one hundred thousand years.

Then he would remember the Kingdom had fallen when the systems had been new and intact.

He finished reviewing the summary of the weeks data dump. Had there been anything unusual he could have requested the raw data and re-aligned his sensor net. The youma were still using their chameleon fields, appearing openly only just before striking. It make them harder to track but it showed they were still too weak for a frontal attack. At least that's what Artemis kept telling himself.

"Code name 0091"

Artemis froze, his paw a millimeter from the power off switch.

"Code name 0091." The static laden voice came faintly from the speakers.

"Password." Artemis demanded hoarsely.

"The rabbit of the moon had some mochi."

"The mochi . . ." Tears clogged his voice. "The mochi of the moon is sticky."

"It puffs up when you cook it."

************************************************

The taxi moved slowly through the darkening streets. The elegant high rises of West Shinjuku had gradually given way to the crowded dirty streets and garish neon of the Kabuki-cho. Noses pressed against the glass, four school girls gaped at the bright electric signs advertising "love hotels" and "soaplands" where, for a few thousand yen, a Sopu-reedi would soap you up and wash you down before playing the "bamboo flute". Their driver had originally been reluctant to venture into East Shijuku after dark so Soban was sitting up front to provide moral support.

Crew cut yakuza toughs barked into cell phones, while African emigres, pretending to be New York movie agents, passed out handbills, speaking in accented English that neither they nor their prospective customers understood.

Dark suited pimps cornered demure school girls against shop doors, making them offers they weren't sure they wanted to refuse while pimply school boys hawked Viagra , ground rhinoceros horn and other illegal aphrodisiacs to balding salary-men with tired eyes.

"Did you know that Shinjuku has the largest concentrations of high rises and businesses in Tokyo?" Ami read from her guide book. "and that the Shinjuku station handles almost a million----"

"Wow!"

Ami's head whipped around at Makoto's exclamation to see a green-spiked-haired "goth" press a checked skirted . . .woman? against a lamp post, raise _her_ skirts and----"

"eeep." Blushing furiously Ami turned back to her book. ". . . a m . .m . .million and a half riders a day," she continued unsteadily. "Shinjuku has a vast network of underground passageways which are extremely useful in the rain. Shinjuku also has vast open spaces in the Central Park and Shinjuku Gyoen Park with skyscrapers watching over all that . . .that goes on." Stumbling a little she marked her place in her book, carefully _not_ looking out the taxi window. "I . . .I was just thinking," she said, keeping her voice low. " it's strange that we haven't seen any youma attacks in this part of town."

"Probably afraid of getting mugged." Minako offered, watching fascinated as a salaryman, objecting to the fifty thousand Yen price of a Budweiser at a yakuza run "sham bar", was beaten senseless with aluminum bats and tossed into an ally. He made one bounce before a horde of homeless men and women stripped him naked, one even shaving his head to sell the hair to wig makers.

"Hey!" Rei caught herself as the taxi stopped suddenly, throwing her forward. She and the rest of the girls started to untangle themselves just as the door opened automatically. Soban stuck her head in the door and began sorting them out.

"We're going to have to walk the rest of the way," she said apologetically, "The driver," she jerked a thumb at the pasty faced man in the front. "thinks his car is having _mechanical_ problems." Soban shot a sardonic look forward as she said this.

"How much do I owe you," Rei peered at the name plate mounted on the back of the drivers seat, "Dix-san?" She pulled out her purse as she exited the cab, followed by the other three girls.

"Never mind," his eyes darted nervously around the crowded streets. "The ride's on me."

"But you must let us pay you," Ami started to protest.

"I said never _mind_." the driver snapped, starting the taxi with a savage twist of the key.

"Wait a minute." Frozen like a rabbit under the gaze of a hawk the driver could only watch helplessly as Soban approached him. Her hand dipped into a pocket then flashed across the hood of his car in a quick slashing motion. "Leave that on until you get home. It'll make life easier." With a squeal of spinning tires the taxi whipped around, knocking over a trash can in his clumsy haste and hurried back the way he had come.

"What's with the crescent moon?"Makoto asked, watching the taxi disappear with indecent haste.

"What are you talking about?" Soban returned the bit of pink chalk to her pocket.

"On the hood of his car," Makoto pointed in the direction the now vanished taxi had taken. "You drew a crescent moon."

"That wasn't a crescent moon," Soban chuckled. "That's my face," she touched the heavy ridge of scar tissue that cut across her right eye. "People see this," she sketched a half circle in the air. "and they know not to bother the guy or they answer to me." Turning she linked arms with Ami and Rei. "We better get going if you want to eat."

"It sure looked like a crescent moon to me." Makoto muttered, following after the three.

Turning to say something over her shoulder to Makoto, light and shadow softened Sobans battered face, transforming the ragged scar into a moon in eclipse.

"It _does_ look like a crescent moon." Minako whispered to herself. Shivering at a sudden chill she hurried to catch up with the others.

************************************************

A short fifteen minute walk later they entered the Golden-gai, the underbelly of the Kabuki-cho. Looking around Minako decided it looked like a scene out of Blade Runner with a little Clock Work Orange mixed in, only not as warm and fuzzy.

"And you came here . . .by _yourself_?" Ami whispered to Rei, nervously clutching Makoto's arm.

"It looked a lot . . .different . . .in the daylight." Rei answered in a tiny voice. She scrunched inside her coat a little as a group of women in short skirts and high heels sauntered by. One of the women glanced down at Rei and her friends, then turned aside to whisper to her companions. All three women looked back at the school girls and burst into laughter.

The air was thick with sweat, sex and sake. The shadows were a little darker, the lights a little colder and the vices would have given Caligula nightmares.

"How did it _smell_?" Makoto muttered, fumbling in her pocket for a face mask.

"Watch where you walk." Minako advised, grimacing as her shoes broke free of a sticky spot. "How much longer before we get there?"She muttered an aside to Soban. "I'd hate to get lost down here this time of night."

"Lost . . .lost . . ."

The plaintive cry raised the hairs on the back of Minako's neck. Spinning around she dropped into a defensive crouch, Ami and Rei on her flanks with Makoto covering the rear. Soban somehow ended up in the middle.

"Have you seen it?" The shambling figure reached a pleading hand toward Makoto. "Have you seen it?"

Makoto jerked back in surprised revulsion. "Get away from us you----"

"Hello Aichou-ko," Soban pushed her way forward and took the stranger's hands in her own. "You shouldn't be out in the night air." She ran her hands over the figures ragged coat, frowning at the tattered vermillion material. "What happened to your coat?"

"I can't find it," Slender fingers, nails black with grime, picked ceaselessly at the material. "I've looked and looked." She pulled another strip of cloth free of the coat, ran it through her fingers and dropped it on the ground.

"Never mind," Soban sighed. "Go see Na-chan. Tell her I said to give you a new coat . . .can you remember that?"

"It's not here . . .it's not . . ." The nervous fingers stilled instantly when Soban placed a gentle hand on her cheek.

"I'll help you look later, OK?"

"Promise?" The figure asked in the voice of a small child asking for a treat it doesn't really expect to get.

"I promise," Soban assured the muffled shape. "Tomorrow, first thing in the morning." She pressed a wad of bank notes into the dirty hands. "Now go get something to eat and get some sleep . . .in a hotel," Soban commanded. "not on the street."

"I want to go home . . .I'm tired . . .I want to go home." The strange figure started to shuffle away, crying softly. As the girls moved past a dirty arm shot out and grabbed Rei in a surprisingly strong grip.

"The fallen blossom doesn't return to the branch, a broken mirror can not be made to shine."Rei tried to jerk away but was held fast. "But the branch will put forth new blossoms, priestess. And a broken mirror can be mended."

"What . . .what?" Rei was frozen in shock for a moment. "What do you mean? How did you know I'm a ----" but the strange prophet had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echo of her weeping.

"Errrrr . . .friend of yours?" Minako relaxed her defensive posture slightly. The denizens of the Golden-gai pushed past the little group, finding nothing unusual in four school girls forming a defensive circle in the middle of the sidewalk.

"She's been around for as long as I can remember." Soban replied, starting back on her way.

"That's an . . .uhhhh . . .unusual name she has." Ami fell into step beside Soban, Rei and Makoto bringing up the rear. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone called 'mournful child' before."

"It's a play on words, because she's always crying, looking for her lost house key . . .Aikagi . . . 'minor key' . . ." Soban paused to let everyone groan at the awful pun. "It's a street name, like most you'll hear in the Kubuki- cho." Soban gave a twisted smile. "You don't think anyone actually wrote _Soban_ on my birth certificate."

Makoto's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. "Uhhhh, I never thought about . . .I mean . . .what is your name . . .uhhhh if you don't mind telling . . ." Makoto floundered helplessly.

"I don't mind telling. I just don't know."

Ami stopped so suddenly that Rei ran into her back. Apologizing she frowned down at Soban. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I guess my brains got a little scrambled in the wreck that did this," she pointed at the scar bisecting her face. "I don't remember much before I woke up in the hospital and they told me I was an orphan." There were gasps of sympathy and Minako put her hand on Soban's shoulder.

"It wasn't that bad," Soban said, uncomfortable with the overt sympathy. "Clean bed, two meals a day, roof didn't leak and my-----and it wasn't to bad." She withdrew suddenly, as if she'd said too much.

Rei noticed that Soban was keeping something to herself. She opened her mouth to ask when she stumbled suddenly as if a great weight had been lifted, throwing her off balance.

"We're here," Soban looked a little self conscious. "I hope you like the food."

Ami took a deep breath, feeling as if a tight band around her chest had been cut. It didn't _look_ any different, she thought glancing up and down the street. Same dirty sidewalks, crowded with hard faced women in too tight clothes, yakuza punks in cheap suits, hair shiny with gel. A salaryman, aged before his time, negotiated unenthusiastically with a fuku clad girl young enough to be his daughter. The girl turned her head and Ami shuddered at the emptiness in her eyes. Negotiations complete the two started to walk down the street.

It was as if someone had thrown a switch. Between one step and the next the salaryman's head came up and there was a spring in his step. The girl looked up at the man with a sparkle in her eye. She said something and they both burst out laughing as they walked past Ami, arm in arm. Then, as if he'd been punched the man stumbled, the girl cried out angrily and the two separated, snarling.

"Welcome to the 'Island of Misfit Toys'," Ami jerked out of her reverie to see the others following Soban through the door. Pushing her observations to a corner of her brain for later analysis she hurried to catch up.

************************************************

"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered for everyone," Soban apologized.

"That's OK, I like surprises." Minako assured her.

"I . . .uhhhh . . .yeah . . .that's OK . . ." Makoto looked around nervously. A statuesque blond wearing a tiny leather apron, her rouged nipples joined with a gold chain brought the first tray to the table, pouring Aosudofu into the bowls already set before each of them.

"Eeeeep . . . ." Makoto averted her eyes, focusing on the green kuzu tofu.

"I thought, we'd do kaiseki ryori . . .since it's your first time here." Soban said diffidently.

"Kaiseki? That's kinda ambitious for a . . .uhhhh." Makoto floundered again, mind racing to extricate her foot from her mouth.

"The Island of Misfit Toys has excellent chefs,"The offended waitress replied in cultured Kyoto accents. "I assure you we are _quite_ capable of preparing the dishes properly. We also have a tea master attached to the staff if you wish tea ceremony as well."

Makoto wasn't sure which was more surprising; a gaijin speaking better Japanese than herself or a restaurant in the Golden-gai serving the Japanese national haute cuisine.

"I was just surprised that you were going to attempt kaiseki." Makoto said defensively.

"Kaiseki requires a rather sophisticate palet," the young lady said frostily. "perhaps you would like to look at the _children's_ menu."

"I think we'll stick with kaiseki," Soban interrupted mildly, placing a calming hand on Makoto, pushing up the brim of her hat with the other.

"And who do you----Soban?" The girl squeaked. "I didn't know----you look so _different_ . . .I . . ." She trailed miserably to a stop.

"I'm beginning to wonder about this _new_ look." Soban tugged uncomfortably at her tie. "I think I'll ditch this stuff and go back to my regular clothes."

"NO!" The waitress protested. "You look great. Not that you didn't look good before . . .uhhh . . .I mean . . ."

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Soban grinned at the flustered girl. "Assuming you're wearing any. Just relax and bring the next course." The girl turned to go in a jingle of chains. "And don't stay up too late. You've got a chemistry exam tomorrow."

"Ummm, a children's menu?" Rei asked, partly to diffuse some of the tension.

"We've got a day-care center too." Soban took a tiny taste of the hot soup. "What do you think?" She asked the table at large.

************************************************

The conversation had been pleasant and the food superb. Eventually Makoto and even Ami were able to stop staring at the staff and customers and concentrate on their food. Even the sight of a man, naked save for a zippered leather hood and a woman dressed only in a purple satin corset feeding a baby in a stroller didn't attract their attention. Although Minako choked slightly, holding back a laugh, when she saw the baby girl waving a rattle shaped like a coiled whip in one chubby fist.

They were just starting on the Hirame No Kimiae when Jules hurried up to Soban, bending to whisper urgently in her ear. She listened impassively then replaced the bit of flounder she was about to eat.

"All right, start moving everyone out the back. Send someone to get Baba Jun." She pushed away from the table, slipping her chopsticks into her pocket as she did so. "Make sure they get away from the area," she jerked a thumb toward Minako and the rest. "I'll try to calm things down."

"What about . . ."

"It would take at least two men to carry her. We can't spare anyone." Soban's face was a stony mask. "Her mind's too far gone to know what's going on. She'll never feel a thing if . . ."Turning away sharply Soban hurried from the room.

"What's going on?" Rei stared worriedly after Soban.

"Follow me,"Jules ignored the question. "I'll show you to the exit. Don't wait for a taxi or bus. Just head west as fast as you can and keep going until . . ." He stopped talking when he realized he no longer had an audience. Whipping around he just caught sight of Ami disappearing through the same door Soban had used.

"Ahhh hell. She's going to _kill_ me for this." He comforted himself with the thought he was unlikely to survive the night if things went wrong. Pulling out his cell phone he started issuing orders to the other staff even as he hurried to the back exit.

************************************************

 

"Not so fast." Rei hissed, pulling Minako back sharply. Soban was hurrying, but it amounted to only a moderate walking pace. Rei had to pull Ami back once or twice to keep her from catching up. Around them they could see men and women in the red, yellow and blue uniforms of Island staff gathering up clumps of patrons and hurrying them out side doors.

Following Soban at a discrete distance Rei and the others passed through several rooms and down half a dozen stair ways, always going down. Finally, when Ami estimated they must be two, perhaps three stories below street level, Soban pushed open a thick sound proofed door. In the dimly lit room beyond Minako could see a flickering large screen projection TV.

"Daisuke no baka!" The dialogue came clearly through the open door. As they watched the screen a short haired girl whapped a pig tailed boy over the head with a desk.

"Hey," Makoto leaned around Minako to peer into the room. "That's 'Mama Four'." She chuckled as the boy scooted away from the angry girl. "This is a great episode. See, what happens next----" She broke off as the others stared at her strangely. "Ummmmm, but that's not important now."

Minako motioned for her friends to follow her. Cat footing across the carpeted floor she and the rest squeezed, unnoticed, into the dark room before the door shut behind Soban.

"Hello Momiji-chan." Inside the room Soban knelt beside a wheelchair bound figure. "How are you feeling?"

"She's doing very well," A sad faced woman of early middle age bent to wipe some drool from the corner of the young girls mouth. "She especially liked the ice cream."

Ami looked at the small bowl of ice cream fixed to the arm of the wheelchair. There was a tiny depression where about a teaspoon of the confection appeared to be missing. She looked more closely to see that the girl was strapped firmly into the chair. Her head slumped sideways against a head rest and her mouth was slack. She was very young for a stroke, Ami considered the symptoms clinically, but perhaps head trauma from an accident? Or a congenital mental defect? She quickly discarded that thought when she looked into the girls eyes, full of life and amazingly brimming with mischief despite her terrible handicap.

"I've got an ulterior motive," Soban whispered conspiratorially. "I'm trying to soften up Momiji-chan so she'll talk her boy friend into dancing for the Island. I've got this little tiger-stripped thong for him . . ." She trailed off suggestively. The chair bound girl started jerking alarmingly and making horse honking noises. Ami started forward, thinking she was having convulsions, then realized she was _laughing_.

"What a wretched noise it makes." Ami twisted around toward the new voice. "It is past time I cleaned up this imperfect soul."

"Just try it you bastard," A tousled red head wearing a pink jumpsuit stalked from the shadows. "Try it and----"

"Easy, Kome-chan," A strikingly beautiful young woman with dark bangs hanging low over one eye placed a bandaged hand on the other's shoulder.

"Easy!" Kome hissed. "That bastard killed Yaegashi- kun, put Momiji in that chair and you----"

"It is my duty, in the Kingdom of the Roots, to cleanse the earth of imperfect souls."

Ami found herself clutching the cool cylinder of her transformation wand. With a conscious effort she forced her fist to unclench. Looking around at her friends she saw they were similarly affected by the cool arrogance of the newcomers voice.

"He reminds me of my senpai whom I loved and who spurned me" Makoto whispered. Her hands itched with the need to adjust the arrogant snot's attitude with a Supreme Thunder.

"I thought I told you to leave." Soban spoke conversationally without looking in their direction. Rising from the floor with an audible creaking she turned toward the shadowed figure and bowed.

"You honor us with your presence, Murakumo-san."

The mysterious voice stepped into the light and there were gasps from Rei and her friends on seeing the mans unearthly beauty. Chiseled features, more suited to a statue than living flesh, were framed by thick wavy hair that hung down his back, almost to his knees. His compact body moved with a predatory arrogance that completely suited his tone of voice.

"I am curious, Kushinada Hime . . ." The cool tones made the honorific an insult.

Rei stiffened. Princess? Could this poor girl be the princess they had given up finding? She caught Minako's eye and raised a questioning brow. Minako shook her head slightly. They would wait a little longer before acting.

" . . .why you associate with this trash."

"We are fortunate," Soban interjected smoothly. "that the Kushinada deigns to find our poor entertainments amusing." She indicated the anime still playing on the big screen. "We also have selections for other tastes. We have all of Kurosawa-sama's films, from 'The Seven Samurai' to 'The Bad Sleep Well'." She waited a moment to see how that news was received. "However you might prefer Mizoguchi's 'Sansho the Bailiff'."

There was a hiss of surprise from Momiji's friends and what sounded like a badly suppressed chuckle. Ami wondered if the arrogant man knew the film . . .about another arrogant young man who sacrificed principle for material gain and ended by being crushed and humiliated by those he despised.

From the stormy look on his face it appeared he _was_ familiar with Mizoguchi's masterpiece. "You are the first imperfect soul I shall dispose of this night." The stench of ozone filled the air and fire danced and crackled across his raised fists.

There was a sudden rustling clatter and Ami twisted her head to see a very impressive array of weapons in the hands of the people surrounding Momiji.

Soban's face didn't change expression as she took a step _toward_ Murakumo. "I am flattered that you deem me worthy of your personal attention." She took another step forward.

"What the _hell_ does she think she's doing?" Rei whispered harshly to Minako, a leaden ball forming in her stomach as she watched Soban take another step closer to the smiling maniac.

"She's stalling for time . . .to let everyone get out," Minako had no doubt Murakumo had power enough and more to level the building and most of the block. ". . .it's all she _can_ do." But the Sailor Senshi could do more, and the hell with secret identities. Her fingers tightened around her henshin stick and she started to say the words of power that would summon Sailor Venus. Before she could do so, it became apparent that Soban had an excellent understanding of her opponents psychology.

"Worthy!" Murakumo practically spat, lowering his hands. "You are nothing but trash, crippled and ugly."

"Is that all?" Soban asked mildly.

"It is enough." Murakumo said disdainfully, turning back to Momiji.

"Ah no, young sir,"Soban stepped between Murakumo and his prey. "You are too simple."

"Young sir?" Makoto mouthed, looking toward Rei. Her friend shrugged, puzzled as well.

"Why, you might have said -- Oh a great many things! Mon dieu, why waste your opportunity?"

Ami gave a little start of surprise as she recognized the line.

Soban tilted her head to one side as if thinking. "For example, thus: AGGRESSIVE: I, madame, if that face were mine, I'd cover it with a bag! FRIENDLY: You're lucky you've only got one eye, you can only see half your face in the mirror. DESCRIPTIVE: You're so ugly the maggots eating your corpse would puke."

"Cyrano . . ." Ami whispered to herself.

"What?" Minako glanced aside at her friend.

"Cyrano de Bergerac," Ami said in a wondering voice, unable to look away from the spectacle playing out before her eyes. "Act I, The Hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne, 1640."

Soban rocked back and forth on her heels, gazing blandly at Murakumo who seemed unable to cope with her strange actions. "INQUISITIVE: Are you really an orphan, or did your parents kill themselves when they saw your face?"

"But she's changing it . . ." Ami's puzzlement changed to horror as she realized Soban was repeating words she'd heard many times before.

"KINDLY: You are building up much merit for the next life with this penance." Soban slowly circled Murakumo, forcing him away from Momiji and the others. Reaching out she picked up a heavy glass mug, beaded with moisture, and took a sip.

"INSOLENT: Girl, you're the reason condoms were invented. ENTERPRISING: You're lucky, you don't have to buy a mask for the Bon Dance." Having turned him almost ninety degrees away from her friends and Momiji she stopped, standing in front of him.

"SIMPLE," She finished softly. "It would have been a blessing if she had died."

In the shocked silence Murakumo smiled sardonically. "Very amusing. Did you really think your pathetic little story could sway me from my purpose. You, your friends and the flawed Kushinada will all be cleansed."

"You can't kill Momiji," a new figure stepped forward, rust colored trench coat flaring. Placing himself squarely between the wheelchair bound girl and Murakumo, a young man with skin stained the color of old oak assumed a defensive stance. "You and all your Aragami die with her."

"An imperfect soul might not be able to comprehend the subtlety of my plan," Murakumo sneered. "but the blood of the Kushinada holds no power here. In one stroke I will eliminate the false Kushinada, T.A.C. and all who oppose---- "

"Errrrr, I hope you don't mind," Soban interrupted, "but I removed the Ceramic Field your agents placed around this room. It interfered with the acoustics." She added apologetically.

There was a loud guffaw from the group surrounding Momiji. Murakumo spun to face Soban. "You insignificant worm, I'll kill you."

"If I'm so insignificant you shouldn't need your friends to help." Soban glanced over Murakumo's shoulder. Involuntarily he looked behind him, almost instantly realizing he'd been tricked.

Soban slammed the heavy glass mug against his skull with enough force to stun a musk ox, a blow that would have shattered the skull of a normal human and did leave a fist sized dent in Murakumo's head. The chief soldier of the Aragami could have recovered from this blow, had Soban's right hand not grabbed the magatama at the apex of his chest. Crushing the blue, comma shaped bead in her fist she twisted----hard. Screaming in pain he fell to his knees, stunned for a moment.

Any sense of victory was short lived. Slender double edged blades slid from Murakumo's forearms as he recovered with inhuman speed. Soban compensated for her lesser reflexes with an uncanny ability to anticipate an opponents actions. She'd already dropped the broken mug, replacing it with her chopsticks from an inside pocket. Slapping aside his right arm with her left she reposted, driving the tips of her steel chopsticks toward Murakumo's temple. Impossibly his neck twisted and thinned, causing her killing stroke to miss by millimeters.

Unfortunately Soban lacked a similar ability to change her body's structure. She was further handicapped by being anchored in place. But she didn't dare release her grip on his magatama. Twisting at the last moment caused his blade to slice along her side, instead of piercing her heart. Tangling her left arm with his he drew back his right arm for the killing stroke she couldn't avoid.

In the bare two seconds this battle had taken, Kome vaulted a table and jammed the grenade launcher of her CAR15 into Murakumo's ear.

"The _worst_ luck," she growled, pressing the trigger.

"Stop!" The stern female voice rang in their ears and minds.

It was Soban's hand on hers, rather than the unknown person's command, that stopped Kome's finger.

"Release our servant."

Soban didn't look at Murakumo to see how he took his demotion to servant. Tightening her grip on his magatama she pressed her free hand against the wound in her side.

"I don't know," Soban grimaced, feeling a warm wet stain spread over her fingers and down her side. "I'd kinda like to blow a hole in Mr. Congeniality and see if his insides look like gummy bear bits." She looked over at Kome. "Whaddya think?"

Kome growled in agreement, jamming the barrel of her grenade launcher hard against Murakumo's head.

Murakumo tensed, preparing to throw off these imperfect souls. Makoto saw him start to strike and stepped forward. At the same instant the trench coated boy moved, crescent blades ripping free of his forearms.

The odd were against Murakumo and he knew it. While Soban held his magatama he was at a disadvantage, his power seriously compromised. If he dealt with her, Kome would fire and even he couldn't survive a HEAT round through his head. While he could easily kill Kome, Soban would do her best to rip his magatama from his chest as he did so. And no matter what he did, Kushinada would use the opportunity to tear his head from his shoulders and play kemari with it.

"I think we're just gonna kill him." Soban looked into an apparently empty corner of the room where two white robed figures materialized. "Don't have to worry 'bout him jumping out of a dark corner some night." She swayed a little, then steadied herself by clamping onto the comma shaped bead imbedded in Murakumo's chest.

The taller of the two figures threw back her hood, revealing a solemn faced young girl of striking beauty. "Release Lord So-sa-no-oh's servant. You are interfering with matters that are none of your concern."

"Your thug comes into _my_ place an' threaten's p . . .people . . .," Soban paled so alarmingly that Makoto jumped to her side to support her. It was a sign of Soban's distress that she didn't protest. " . . .threaten . . .I _make_ it my business." Gritting her teeth Soban forced herself erect, fighting pain and blood loss. "Give me a good reason _not_ to rip this sonnava bitch a new asshole."

"You dare bargain with Su-sa-no-oh?" The beautiful face tightened angrily.

"That little pip-squeak?" Soban sneered disdainfully, pointing at the smaller figure standing beside the girl. "I'm not bargainin' . . . I'm _tellin'_ him. Unless he want's to be pickin' little bits an' pieces of his _servant_," Soban gave a savage twist to the blue bead, forcing a grimace of pain from the kneeling Murakumo. "outa his hair for the next month, he'll give me what I want."

"What do you desire." If possible the girls tone became even colder.

"You, Su-sa-no-oh and pretty boy," Soban patted Murakumo's cheek insultingly. "leave the Island and never come back." The girl started to nod curtly in agreement when Soban held up her hand. "You don't bother _ANY_ of my people or customers, coming or going, ever again," the girls face tightened, but there was more. "and I want you to fix whatever you did to Momiji-chan."

"You _DARE_!" The girl was blazingly angry. "That one," She pointed a finger of outrage at the chair bound girl, "has offended my Lord Su-sa-no-oh and been justly punished for it. And you wish him to forgive her trespass?"

"Nah . . .I _wish_ to kick his skinny white butt up around his tonsils. This is just what I'll settle for."

"Do you know what Lord Su-sa-no-oh will do to you for your effrontery?" The girl threw back her cloak, drawing a sword in one smooth motion.

"Yeah, yeah," Soban answered tiredly. "Kill me, unimaginable torment, never forgive, yada, yada . . .been there," She smiled, a not nice smile that made her scar stand out. "_done_ that." She slammed her steel chopsticks through Murakumo's eye, driving them home with a savage twist. Murakumo convulsed, viscous green fluid fountaining from the wound. "He can probably grow a new eye," She jerked a thumb at Kome, still holding the grenade launcher. "but I bet he can't grow a new head."

"Stop!" The girl commanded as Kome's finger began to press the trigger. She turned to the slight figure beside her, communing silently with her god and lover. "Lord Su-sa-no-oh will grant your boon." She said finally, turning back to face Soban.

Su-sa-so-no moved silently forward, to stand before Momiji's wheelchair. Small white hands pushed his hood back, revealing a pale, beautiful boy, his face dominated by the blue crescent shaped bead in the center of his forehead. The bead began to glow, filling the room with a blue light.

Squinting against the brightness, Ami surreptitiously keyed her computer to record. As she watched, a stream of oily smoke appeared to flow from Momiji's mouth and be absorbed by the blue light. Moments later the glow vanished and the boy moved silently back to his place beside the girl.

"Momiji . . .Momiji-chan! Are you alright?" The sad faced woman dropped to her knees beside the chair, taking one of Momiji's pale, too thin hands, in her own.

"I'm fine, Matsudaira-san," Momiji struggled to sit up, her muscles atrophied from weeks of disuse. "Ummmm, can I have some more ice-cream?"

"Oh Momiji," The woman with bandaged hands was laughing and crying at the same time. "you can have all the ice cream you can eat."

"She'll get a belly ache," The young man moved to Momiji's other side, his tender touch at odds with his sarcastic tone. "she's such a child."

"Kusanagi no baka!" Momiji snapped, then started coughing.

"You mustn't excite yourself," Matsudaira took Momiji's wrist, feeling her pulse. "you've been very sick."

"Kaede," A haggard man, prematurely grey, stepped toward the young girl. "Kaede, don't go." He stretched out his hand in supplication. "You are the Kushinada . . .your duty is to protect Japan, not destroy her."

"What Japan should I protect, father?" The girl spoke without turning around. "The Japan of myth, green and beautiful, is dying . . .Lord Su-sa-so-no is it's salvation."

Soban snorted in derision. " We're here to help you . . .isn't that what the Imperial Army said to the Chinese in Nanking?" She released Murakumo, letting him fall all the way to the floor. "Beryl's got class . . .she wants to plunge the earth into eternal darkness and rule it forever. And the Dead Moon Circus, now there's a bunch with style . . . snappy dressers and some really cool monsters." Stuffing the tail of her shirt in her wound she limped forward until she was within arms reach of Kaede. She stood there a moment, the only sound the slow drip of her blood onto the floor. "You . . ." she said finally. "_You_ run around dressed in a sheet tellin' everyone you're gonna' save Japan by turnin' everyone into crab-grass." Soban laughed derisively. "That's pretty pathetic."

"Japan is crying out in despair," Kaede replied coldly. "Lord Su-sa-no-oh will cleanse it of the filthy corrupt humans."

"Give me a break," Soban swayed a little, "you're like the kid who spits in the candy to keep anyone else from having a piece, or breaks her toys so no one else can play. You're not the savior of Japan, you're just a spoiled brat."

There was a rustling sound behind her as Murakumo dragged himself upright. Soban didn't even glance at him as he moved past her to stand in front of Kaede and Su-sa-so-no, his ruined eye already starting to heal.

"While Lord Su-sa-so-no has promised to leave your wretched business and friends unmolested, you forgot to gain Lord Su-sa-so-no's protection for yourself." Murakumo smiled cruelly. Twinned blades slid from his forearms as he took a step toward Soban.

"I didn't forget." Soban replied softly.

Murakumo looked at the small crippled girl, bleeding on the floor. Then he felt the pain as his wounded eye regenerated.

"Come."

It was only the Kushinada's command that made him leave, Murakumo told himself as he followed his god from the room.

Soban watched the odd trio vanish. "Well, that was exciting,"she said to no one in particular as her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

*******************************************************************************