Nenji turned at the sound of a small wheezing cough, and smiled thinly. The little raven might just make it after all. "aa… karasu-chan..lie back.."

The boy opened one eye slowly, brilliantly green even in the dim light of the candle. Something bitter and viscous clogged his mouth and he gagged, trying to croak a word from his battered face and bruised throat. K..Kaa..san…?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"KAASAAAAN! Kaa-san!" Hideyotsua Aoshi ran through the small villa, his armour of paper and bamboo flapping about him like a flurry of angry pigeons. In the courtyard, his mother knelt, arranging flowers. Her glossy raven hair was caught back by simple, lacquered wood pins, and her jade-hued eyes were tender as she watched her small son barrel towards her.

"Aa-chan.. you shouldn’t run so.." Eiko said mildly, holding her arms out to him. "Masako said that Tou-san was coming home.. that he was coming home from the war.." Aoshi panted, trying to catch his breath as he hugged Eiko tightly. She nodded, smoothing the boy’s hair.. so like her own.. and chuckled softly. "Hai, hai… I received word just today that he and his men are coming home.. I’m having Masako prepare all his favorite foods for his return.. and you.. you will wear your very best clothes, onegai?"

He nodded excitedly. "Kaa-san.. he’s been away for so long.. will he remember me?" Eiko held the boy at arms length a moment, pretending to study him intently. There was nothing of Matsuo’s broad face in the boy.. only her own delicate features, her own frail frame. "You are unforgettable, my dearest one. Unforgettable. Now go, little samurai.. and put down your arms.. Masako will have dinner ready soon, ne?"

Aoshi nodded quickly. "Hai, Kaa-san!" and as quickly as he had run to her, dashed off. (So full of energy) Eiko smiled, even as her eyes grew dark and she felt a chill tremble down her spine.

~~~~~~~~

Aoshi fidgeted as the band made it’s way up the pathway to the house. The horses were rough and rank from travel, their armored passengers not much better. The lacquered iron armor of the lead rider, bearing the Hideyotsua family crest, gleamed in the autumn sun, though, and the boy felt a thrill of excitement run down his spine. "Kaa-san.. is that…..?" he squeaked out, tensing, half wanting to run up to the stranger who was his father. Eiko's hand clamped firmly down on the back of her son's gi. "Hai. But you will behave with some dignity, ne, little warrior?"

The boy made an exasperated little sound, and dropped his head, defeated. The few remaining household retainers gathered near the villa's veranda, dropping to a properly respectful pose as the lead rider dismounted, removing his fearsome masked and horned helmet. Eiko bowed as well. "Hideyotsua-sama" she said delicately. "Welcome home." Only Aoshi didn't bow, huge green eyes fixed on the rough, armored man with his shining swords. A faint breeze stirred the crimson leaves of the maple trees that surrounded them.

Matsuo made a snort not unlike his brown steed and lifted Eiko's chin. "You've kept well, wife." He commented blandly. "Unlike my fields." He pulled his hands away, something unspoken passing between them as the boy stared up at him.

The samurai looked down, then, into the boy's eyes. "This is my son?" He asked in a tone that implied there best be no other explaination, and Eiko nodded. "Aa-chan.. Aoshi.. you had not yet been born when your father was called away. This is him, the esteemed Hideyotsua Matsuo-sama.."

Aoshi swallowed, transfixed by the man's piercing dark eyes. He finally remembered to let go of the skirt of mother's kimono. "Tou-san…." He squeaked out again, bowing awkwardly. His father grabbed him by the shoulders roughly. "Small. Weak. My blood barely touched him." Matuso said sourly. "We'll have to try again, Wife. Do better next time."

Eiko didn't answer, only looked down at the polished wood of the veranda instead… but Aoshi could feel the tremors that shook his mother's slender frame.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The atmosphere in the villa took on a decidedly different tone in the following weeks. What had been a quiet, pleasant place became tense.. almost hostile. Eiko's refined, composed face never slipped while serving the newcomers, but in the dark of night, Aoshi heard sounds coming from his mother's rooms that he'd never heard before.

The sounds of crying.

Despite Masako's admonitions, the samurai held a strange fascination for the boy and he watched them as he could. During the day, some were almost pleasant to him. They roughed him up, and kidded the small-framed boy, but they were friendly enough.

It was at night, when the sake flowed, that the timbre of their laughter changed, took on a meaner quality, and the servants tried to make themselves scarce. Aoshi would peer at them through the faintest break in the sliding panels between rooms. They were loud and frightening. Not at all the warriors his mother had spoken so respectfully about. At night, they became like the oni, and Aoshi found it harder to sleep, their harsh voices creeping into his small room

It was one of those nights, as the frost was settling in a silver sheet on the soon barren grounds, and his breath showed in pale puffs that Hideyotsua Matsuo called for his wife and son.

"H..Hai, Matsuo-sama?" Eiko looked drawn.. paler than Aoshi had ever seen her. The large man grabbed her roughly by the wrist. "You. Boy. The world doesn't tolerate the weak. This era will not stand for those who cannot survive alone. Are you weak, boy?" The words ground against him like broken shards and the boy backed away, green eyes widening with fear. He tried to stay quiet, but a tiny sound escaped him, a half-broken sob.

Matsuo looked down at him with a sneer. "That's what I thought." He offhandedly threw Eiko to the floor. "You will have to do better with the next one. This child…." The samurai knelt for a moment and grabbed Aoshi by the chin. "This child is useless." As casually as he'd dealt with Eiko, he shoved Aoshi away, sending the small boy tumbling painfully.

"Aoshi!!" Eiko's voice broke as she watched the boy fall, and reached for him. But her hand was intercepted by Matsuo. "I need a useful heir, Wife. He's no concern, now"

Aoshi sat on the floor, staring as Matsuo bore down on Eiko. He was trapped in a horrible reverie as the samurai brutalized her, green-eyes wide and fixed in terror on the scene, afraid to make a sound, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. But there was a sound, a thin, high wail…not a cry or a scream, but the sound a dying rabbit would make..

And it was coming from his mother. It went right through him, and the little boy's green eyes narrowed suddenly. Not far, not out of reach at all, Matsuo's katana and wakazashi lay on the floor, tangled in the sash he'd discarded as carelessly has his son.

Small, pale hands tightened on the hilt. It was so heavy, but he drew it with a huge effort. "LEAVE MY MOTHER ALONE!!!" With the force of his anger behind him, the child swung the wakazashi at Matsuo, leaving a bloody track across the far bigger man's back.

The samurai roared, turning on the child, Eiko forgotten at the moment. Still clutching the bloodied sword, Aoshi panted like a frightened animal. "I'll never forgive you for what you've done! NEVER!"

Matsuo didn't seem to hear him, eyes black with rage, and descended upon Aoshi more like a tiger or some wild animal than a man. Time took on a strange stutter then, flashing past the boy through a red haze and the strobing pain of the blows from Matuso's fists.

Abruptly it stopped, and Aoshi felt his mother's arms around him, and Masako's voice, tinged with anger and panic.

"Eiko-sama.. please, hurry.. this way…we don't have any time." He slowly opened one eye to see the heavy-set woman standing there, brandishing a garden hoe like weapon, Matsuo's unmoving bulk at her feet. "The others will be here soon, Eiko-sama…" she urged. "I'll carry Aa-chan.." There was a tiny sob from Eiko, but she relinquished the boy to Masako, and stumbled behind the older woman out into the freezing night.

~~~~~~~

"Ma..Masako.. I can't run anymore…" Eiko sagged to the carpet of frost on the ground, the scent of pine as thick around them as the trees in the dark. "I can't…" She sobbed quietly for a moment, hugging the remains of her kimono around her, the white cranes on the silk glowing faintly in the silver light that filtered through the dense branches.

"Kaa-san…" Masako had nearly forgotten she was holding the boy in her haste, and set him down, where he promptly hugged his mother. "Kaa-san… please…" he whispered. Every part of him hurt badly, and there was a strange, coppery taste in his mouth. The fine black brows knitted together in a frown. "Don't be scared, Kaa-san.. I won't be weak…"

In the distance, there were voices sharpened by the cold air. The words were mostly indistinct, with the exception of "Matsuo-dono" and "revenge". Masako took Aoshi by the hand, and crouched next to Eiko. "Eiko-sama.. madame, you have to… if not for you…"

Eiko nodded weakly in assessment, and the broader woman helped her to her feet. "There now.. my relatives live not far from here… we'll be safe with them.. we'll be there by morning….We'll be safe by morning…"

~~~~~~~~

The sun was staining the morning sky a pale grey-gold as the sound of a horse's hooves rang sharply in the cold air, in time with a rider's off-key humming.

Kashiwazaki Nenji, Okina of the Oniwabanshuu of Kyoto, was not a man who cared for the cold. Nor did he particularly like the countryside. His personal preference would have been to have spent a day tucked under the covers in a warm room with a beautiful woman and a bottle both within easy reach.

He grunted. The assignment had been too important, the information to be retrieved too delicate for him to feel comfortable trusting it to any of the other onmitsu, however, and had taken longer than he'd expected in the first place.

But still, Tetsyua-sama would be pleased. The Okashira was no doubt waiting impatiently for his return. Nenji's mind wandered as he guided his horse down the rutted path that passed for a road in this part of the country. After several minutes, he became aware of another scent mingled with the heady aroma of pine. A scent he was all to familiar with.

The scent of blood.

Frowning but curious, he followed the stench to it's source, barely off the road. The sight that greeted him didn't shock him, but it repulsed him, nonetheless. They hung from the tree, grey and rigid as the stones that jutted up from the ground.

Nenji frowned further. Neither woman had been dressed for travelling, so bandits seemed less likely than at first glance. With a disgusted sound, he cut them down, his own sense of gallantry and honor moved. He couldn't let them, even though strangers, remain as they were.

He was doing his best to bury them, when something white in the bushes caught his eye. With a grunt, he set the rock down, and brushed the undergrowth aside. A child, balled up tightly, as battered and torn as the two women. The onmitsu closed his eyes and took a deep breath, kneeling beside the small form. His eyes flew open again when the faintest of ragged breaths caught his ear, and the palest of breaths steamed from the child's mouth.

Gently, as if he were handling the emperor's finest porcelain, Nenji gathered up the child in his own cloak. The delicate features and small frame made him first believe it was a girl in his arms, glossy black hair matted to her face with blood and dirt. It was only a moment later that he realized it was a little boy, his breathing harsh and labored, like the croak of a raven. The Okina bundled him carefully. The resemblance between the child and the woman who had worn the remains of the finely woven kimono was obvious, and as he set the boy down to hurriedly finish placing the stones, Nenji's curiosity began to burn brightly. (just what had transpired here?)

~~~~~

Nenji had been doubtful that the child would survive the rest of his journey home, and the thought of explaining his delay to the granite-faced Okashira made him more than a little nauseous, but it only took a look at the small form in his arms to quell any thoughts of abandoning the boy to better his speed back to Kyoto. Besides. There was a story here.. and Kashiwazaki Nenji was nothing if not inquisitive.

~~~~~

"Kaa-san?" The boy looked around the room, brilliant eye fixing on the older man. Nenji was a little put off by the clarity of the gaze, as if the child already knew the answer to the question he hadn't asked yet.

The Okina refreshed a damp cloth and laid it on the boy's forehead. "She's gone, little raven." He felt a peculiar admiration for the boy's lack of hysterics… even if it seemed to be only shock. "You've been asleep for a little while.."

~~~~~

To no one's surprise, Makimachi-sama's daughter in law, Yui, had taken over care of the unconscious child with a display of maternal intensity that would have left some women stunned and gasping for air. Nenji felt a stab of possessive jealousy as he handed the boy to her, and immediately felt an equal stab of guilt. Yui was very young, and had only recently wed Tetsuya's eldest son, but there were already rumors that she was barren.

For the remainder of his slow -paced return, he had talked to the boy, dubbing him his little raven, as much for his harsh breathing as for his glossy black hair. Part of his mind pictured the child, happy and laughing as it should be for someone so young, but another part couldn't imagine the boy anything but a still figure carved in ivory.

So, despite Yui's admonitions to leave the boy be as the doctors treated him, Nenji couldn't bring himself to leave. He returned each evening, "just to check on things", until the night the child awoke.

~~~~~~~~~

The boy sat up slowly, tears welling up with the painful movement. "There, now.." Nenji supported him, as much as someone so light needed support. "You were hurt very badly.. you're still weak."

"I'm.. not ..weak.." The boy croaked, a strange light in his jade-green eyes. "not.. weak…grandpa…" Nenji was taken aback for a moment. He wasn't the youngest of the Oniwabanshuu, but as a man in his 30's, he was hardly past his prime. "Ok, then. You're not weak. But you are hurt." He pouted a little bit. Grandpa indeed. "Even the strongest needs to rest when injured, Little Raven."

The boy seemed to consider this, and lay back again. The tears still threatened behind the brilliant eyes, but he held them at bay. Nenji smoothed back his hair, and looked at the serious expression on the boy's battered face. "This is the home of the Oniwabanshuu… you're safe here. Now. Do you.. do you have a name, kid?" Nenji gave the boy his best reassuring smile.

Gingerly, the child turned on his side away from him. "……….Aoshi…….." Nenji nodded. Aptly named, with his pale skin, and the shadowy purple highlights in the hair Yui had so gently washed clean. "Aoshi. Do you remember what happened? I found you in the forest..with…." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it.

"…they killed kaa-san…and Masako…….."came the weak reply and Nenji could see the tears spilling across the boy's face as he said it. Aoshi took a shaking breath, trying to stop, and wiped the sleeve of the robe Yui had dressed him in for warmth across his eyes. "Who…are you? He turned back towards Nenji, and the black brows knitted together. "Do you have a name?"

Nenji almost broke out laughing at his own words rasping out of the boy. "You can just keep calling me grandpa, ok?" he said with sudden affection at his quick little raven. "Ji-ya.." the boy nodded, satisfied for the moment.

Nenji watched him in the flickering light, as the boy slept again, and was there, snoring, when Yui found him beside Aoshi in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued.