Ronin

A TGS-based story

by C.S. Hayden

Disclaimer: Gargoyles is the property of Disney and Buena Vista Television. Characters from "Yama's Path" by Kimberly T. appear by permission. All original characters and plot are the creative property of Christi Smith Hayden.

From the journal of Kirin, teacher and weapons master, formerly of Ishimura

Kobe, 1995

It was a curious turn of events that led me to the Tengu. I had been wandering like the masterless samurai of old after I left the pain of Ishimura. My love of learning made me roost near universities where I could listen in on classes and use the library at night but after a few years, even that paled. I found that I missed the companionship of my kind but I could not yet force myself to return home. Instead, I let the winds take me wherever they would and, as chance would have it, I found myself gliding over the Kobe region, surveying the massive earthquake damage. I helped where I could – discreetly, because unlike Ishimura, humans here were unaccustomed to gargoyles. I daresay there were a few reports of miraculous rescues due to my timely intervention and the thought of this pleased me as I sailed off into the mountains. The media had reported a land slide that was causing flooding in the low-lying areas below so I thought it was worth checking out. What I found was not what I expected.

A female gargoyle with long silver hair was struggling to cross a slope of newly-fallen rock. I wondered why she did not fly past the dangerous obstruction but on closer inspection, I could see that one of her wings was gnarled and twisted. She had a large bag slung on her back with plants and other things in it. I hesitated – I had not seen another gargoyle for years – but then the decision was taken out of my hands as the ground trembled with another aftershock. The female cried out as her footing slipped and without thinking, I swooped down to save her. I apologized for the abruptness of our meeting and introduced myself as I carried us both aloft.

Her name was O-tama and I could see by the subtle lines on her face that she was my elder by a few decades. She spoke with the soft drawl common to western Japan and I had to listen closely to understand her. Without going into much detail, I explained that I was a traveler from Ishimura and had decided to stay for a while to help out with the earthquake damage. She gave me a long withering stare like an owl searching for a mouse in the grass, clearly deciding whether to trust me or not. In the end, she chose to direct me to the Tengu village secluded high in the Rokko Mountains.

I knew of the Tengu, of course. They had suffered badly when the atomic bomb went off in Nagasaki in 1945 and had spent some time in Ishimura recovering. I was only a young hatchling barely out of the rookery when they were finally strong enough to go off on their own. Our arrival caused considerable commotion; swords were drawn before O-tama was able to vouch for my good intentions. She was the clan healer and a female of high status in her own right, besides being the mate of Takamatsu, leader of the Tengu. I put myself in her charge and soon redeemed myself by being able to take over some of the heavy tasks. Most of the Tengu were older gargoyles and several had been badly injured in the earthquake With my help, the burden of rebuilding was eased and they welcomed my assistance.

After so many years of solitude, I found it difficult to let my guard down. My stay with the Tengu was tenuous at best; I had overheard some of them talking about me and complaining that I was not very sociable. The truth was that as much as I wanted to be part of gargoyle society, I did not want to risk being hurt again. It took three rather small troublemakers to help me find the way.

Sweat trickled down the back of Kirin's neck as he balanced the door in the groove. It was a tricky job but Goro had been satisfied with his work on the other buildings so the dappled green gargoyle had been left to finish O-tama's hut on his own. The breeze shifted, blowing a wisp of red-gold hair across his face and he braced himself to keep the door from moving. Until it was mounted correctly between the upper and lower rollers, he couldn't tighten it in place and until it was tightened, he didn't dare let go of it.

"O-tama, O-tama!" The smallest of the Tengu's three hatchlings shrieked at the top of his lungs. "Tak's picking on me!"

"I am not!"

"You are so!"

Kirin didn't have the luxury of seeing just what they were doing but he'd seen enough of the Tengu hatchlings to know they were up to their usual hijinks. Takakura, the ruddy ringleader, had a bad habit of picking on the others when he was bored and feathered Mozu, as the smallest, was his favorite target since tall and gangly Tancho tended to fight back. "O-tama is not here," he called out. "She went to pick herbs with Miza. Go and see if they are back yet."

"But Miza's not there!" Mozu's voice was beginning to panic.

"Can't hide behind your mother's skirts now, can you, featherhead?"

"Tancho! Help me!"

"You leave Mozu alone!" There was a flurry of grunts and scuffles as bodies hit the ground and began to roll around in the dirt.

Ignoring the squabble, Kirin grimaced as the door finally slid into place. He tested the smooth motion as it moved in and out, nodding approvingly. "That should please her," he said as he slid the door shut and started to turn away. "Now, what seems to be the prob--?"

Rolling around in front of the hut steps, Tancho manage to jam his foot into Tak's stomach and kicked Tak off, propelling him away a little harder than perhaps intended. Tak careened off of Mozu, tripped on the porch steps, and collided face-first into Kirin's newly hung door, his long nose and both arms tearing through the washi covering of the latticework.

Kirin grabbed Tak by the back of his grey tunic before he could damage the door further and turning, snatched up the other two before they could escape. He curled his lip and growled low in the back of his throat. The Three went limp in his grasp like a trio of pups in the mouth of a mother dog. He gave them a firm shake and plunked them down hard on the porch step.

"Don't… move… a muscle," he admonished them each in turn. Glaring at them, he began to examine the damage. It was not as bad as he first feared; the door itself was still balanced in its track and once he replaced the rice paper, no one would ever know. Mozu was sniffling behind him and it brought back the sound of his old rookery keeper's voice in his head. 'Never lose your temper with hatchlings, Kirin-kun,' Miya had said sternly. 'You tower above the little ones, you great fierce thing – if you make them afraid of you, they will learn out of fear, not for the love of learning.'

Sighing so that his fishlike whiskers twirled around like wind chimes, Kirin scowled at the hatchlings. All three of them were staring up at him with huge eyes. Tancho had a protective arm around little Mozu but Tak had his chin out in hopes that no one would notice how much his knees were knocking.

"Oh, for Buddha's sake," Kirin grumbled, "I am not going to skin you and eat you."

Mozu stuck his feathered head out from behind Tancho's back and quavered, "Y-you're not?"

"Of course not." He resumed carefully trimming the damaged paper off the door frame. "I'd have to have a jug of rice wine to wash you down with. Raw hatchling leaves a nasty taste in the mouth." He caught their wide-eyed expressions out of the corner of his eye and fought the urge to smirk.

"He's trying to scare us," Takakura scoffed, folding his arms over his scrawny chest. "He's just making it up."

"Now cooked hatchling," Kirin continued as he took a throwing knife out of his leather gauntlet, "tastes like chicken." He began to carefully excise the tatters from the bamboo frame. The sharp knife hissed as it slid through the washi like hot butter. Flicking a glance their way, Kirin could see they were all staring at him with wide, round eyes. "A hungry gargoyle would rather eat the moon than the likes of you."

"Huh?" Tak tilted his head to one side. "That's crazy – no one can fly that high."

Kirin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "You mean, you've never heard the story?"

"Story?" Tancho asked, his eyes going wider still. "What story?"

"Once upon a time when the world was young and magical, there was a very hungry gargoyle." Kirin kept working as he dropped into story teller mode. "He was a big gargoyle, which is not the same as being fat, and it took a lot of food to fill him up. One night, no matter what he ate, nothing satisfied him. He ate a lake full of fishes and washed it down with barrels of rice wine. He ate a whole farm of vegetables, even the spinach, which proves he was really hungry. Finally, he looked up at the moon, which in those days, as everybody knew, it was made of mochi. 'Surely, such a big mochi will be big enough to fill me up!' he said to himself.

"So the hungry gargoyle unfurled his wings and leaped up into the sky. He flew higher and higher. It took half the night but he finally reached the moon. He took a bite of it and to his surprise, it was sweet! He took another bite. It was yummy! The moon wasn't just mochi, it was filled with delicious red bean jam! Pretty soon, the hungry gargoyle was eating hand over fist. Finally, when he had eaten the moon almost to the rim, he felt completely full. Unfortunately, there is such a thing as too many sweets. His tummy rumbled and bubbled and then there was a huge, enormous, earthshaking belch--and the hungry gargoyle exploded into a million bits. They spread all across the night sky and began to shine and sparkle and twinkle like stars. Because," Kirin said, raising one furry eyebrow and smiling slightly, "gargoyles are really just diamonds in the rough."

"What does that mean?" Tak asked skeptically. "Goro and Makino belch all the time and they don't explode."

"Maybe," Mozu began tentatively, "maybe it means that sometimes things are more than they seem?" He ducked back around Tancho but Kirin merely smiled at him.

"Very well done," Kirin said as he collected his trimmings. "It's a bit like this door. At first, it looked like a real mess but if you three help, we could have it fixed in no time." He took a roll of rice paper from the basket of tools. "Mozu, do you know if O-tama keeps some water in her hut?" The small hatchling brightened and nodded vigorously, raising his crest. "Good – go and fetch a cupful of water and a small bowl. We need to thin out the glue to use with this paper."

While the small hatchling scampered off, Kirin beckoned to the other two. "Now both of you come here and hold the edges down for me so they don't curl." He took a homemade wooden ruler out of the bucket and measured the individual panel. "Let's see…. we need to cut five pieces at seven inches wide by ten inches wide." He traced off a rectangle, creasing the lines on the paper with the edge of his talon and then handed the ruler to Tancho. "Here you go – do it just like I did, seven by ten."

"Seven by ten?" Tancho repeated, looking curiously at the ruler. He glanced at Takakura who shrugged. Tancho chewed his lip and stared at the measuring stick pensively.

Kirin had seen this look before but never on hatchlings as old as the Three. "The long lines represent inches," he explained carefully. "Just count them off." Putting words to actions, Kirin pointed out the numbers with a talon tip. "See? 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7. See? Easy, isn't it?" He helped Tancho trace the line onto the paper and then squared off the ruler at a right angle to the line. "Now, we need ten inches on this side. What number comes after seven?"

Tancho squirmed. "This one?" he asked pointing at the next line on the ruler.

"And what is it called?" Kirin prompted.

"He doesn't know, all right?" Takakura blurted out. He crossed his arms back over his chest and sulked. "Nobody tells us anything. We're just stupid hatchlings."

"Ah." Kirin traced off the longer line, making sure Tancho saw. "See where I stopped? That's 8… 9… 10 – ten inches. Now put another ten inch line on the other side and a seven inch line on the bottom." While Tancho busied himself with that, Kirin commented to Tak, "You may be hatchlings, but I doubt you're stupid. All I've seen you Three do is run wild all over the place – doesn't anyone give you your lessons?"

"Sometimes," Tancho admitted, "if they don't have anything better to do."

Mozu came out with a bowl of water in his hands. "When it's cold, we have lessons," he offered. "Mostly it's Doryo reading from the clan scrolls."

"Boring…." Takakura snorted.

"I see." Kirin nodded approvingly at Tancho. "Very good – now let Tak have a turn." He waited until the two had traded places and he had Tak repeating the task that his rookery brother had just completed. Mozu watched intently and when his turn came, he did it without hesitation. Kirin traced off one last panel and cut them all out with his knife. "Tancho, look in that bucket for a brush." He glanced around, spying a toy lying just under the porch steps. "You know, if we had a ball, I know a counting game that the hatchlings in Ishimura play."

All three hatchlings perked up. "We haven't had any new games in a while," Tak said, trying not to sound too interested. "How do you play?"

"First," Kirin said as he took the brush from Tancho and began to apply the watered down glue to the edges of the washi paper, "we finish repairing this door. Then if that ball turns up, we will play a game."

Suddenly, Kirin had three extra sets of eager helpful hands.

Having caught a glimpse of silver hair through the tree branches, Kirin kept a straight face and gave nothing away as O-tama and Miza came into the clearing so that they could surprise the hatchlings. The Three had caught on to the number game very quickly so he had reversed the order on them and had them chanting it backwards. Mozu bounced the ball off his feathered head and passed it to Tancho, all the while trilling in a high, musical voice that was easily heard over the other boys:

"Five

perching crows

four

low clouds

three

wild geese

two

rows of willows

one

moon in the sky."

Takakura whooped as he caught the ball from Tancho and kicked the makeshift ball high into the air. "This is a fun game," he called out enthusiastically. "Let's play it again!"

"Very nicely done, young ones!" O-tama clapped her hands together. "We could hear you singing all the way from the kitchen!"

Mozu ran and threw his arms around Miza's legs and looked up at her with his head against her hip. "We weren't too loud, were we, obaasan?"

"A little," Miza said gently as she ruffled the downy feathers on his head, "but a happy noise is always a welcome sound." There was no doubt that she was Mozu's mother; she was tan-colored with a slim beak and feathered wings tipped in black and had the same head crest and golden eyes like her son. "Are you and your brothers ready for a snack? I have some steamed dumplings and pickled plums waiting for you."

"Yay!" Takakura and Tancho galloped past, leaving the ball lying forlornly in the dust. "Race you!" Mozu sprinted after them, easily catching up before they all disappeared into the trees. Miza merely shook her head and laughed as she followed behind.

"Ah, well," Kirin said as he began to pick up the area, "I hope they leave something to eat for the rest of us."

"Not to worry, Kirin-san – there will be plenty for all." O-tama came and sat down on the edge of her porch. "Miza and I were surprised to see you with the hatchlings, much less to be playing a game with them"

"It is nothing." Kirin shrugged carelessly as he collected his tools. "Hatchlings are hatchlings, whether it be here or Ishimura."

"Our males often lose their temper with the Three. You seemed quite at ease with them." She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. "One might think that you have had some experience with children."

Kirin gave her a withering look but the Tengu healer merely gazed back at him. He was beginning to learn that while O-tama might appear weak with her withered wing, her inner strength more than made up for it. Sighing, he sat down on the porch besides her. "Before I became a weapons master," he admitted, "I worked in the rookery as a teacher. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"Ah – I thought so!" O-tama smiled. "We take turns teaching the Three but everyone has their own ideas about what they should be learning. Doryo bores them with clan lore, Bana tries to hammer good manners into their stubborn heads, Goro encourages them to play in the mud -- it is no wonder that our hatchlings run wild."

"They are not so bad," Kirin conceded. "I was making them help repair your door when I discovered that they did not know their numbers. I was teaching them a counting game before you and Miza came."

"We heard you," O-tama chuckled. "None of you were musical but, as Miza said, you made a happy noise."

Smiling in spite of himself, Kirin admitted, "I suppose that is true. They seemed to like it."

"I think you enjoyed it as well."

"Perhaps." He toyed with the torn hem of his tunic. "I always liked teaching the little ones. There's something about the way their eyes light up when they catch onto a new idea. It's –" He realized that he was saying too much and bit his lip to keep from talking further. That life was in his past and there was no point in dwelling on it.

O-tama reached out and gently brushed her knuckles across his brow ridges. He flinched but it was merely a platonic gesture, calm and soothing. "You loved teaching," she stated matter-of-factly. "Why did you not say so before?"

"I gave up teaching to become a weapons master," Kirin said at last. "Everyone was pleased. They all thought my size was better-suited to being a warrior than to being a teacher." He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice but somehow she picked it up.

"But you missed it."

"Yes."

The Tengu healer said nothing but continued to caress his brow ridges. Kirin found himself leaning towards her as he relaxed. Gargoyles were inherently tactile creatures and after so many years living away from his own clan, he found he missed even the smallest social interactions. The first contact that a hatchling had fresh out of the egg was the touch of its mother's lips on its brow. No matter how old a gargoyle became, it was a touch that always got a response. He nearly groaned when she moved on to brush the loose hair out of his eyes.

Breaking the silence, O-tama ventured, "You know, we have been taking it in turns to teach the Three but it has been slow going. Doryo has no patience, Bana and Kiyo get too easily distracted, and too few of us know enough written Japanese to be able to teach it." She turned his head with her fingertips. "You have worked willingly besides us for many weeks now. Takamatsu feels that you would be a worthy addition to our clan. If I speak to him, would you consider becoming teacher to the Tengu?"

Kirin's eyes widened. "It is a generous offer," he said slowly. "I do not know what to say."

"You would be free to teach the hatchlings as you like," O-tama continued. "Takamatsu and I feel that the Three should know more than just the traditional clan lore. We are an old clan but they are young and they should be prepared to face whatever their future holds." She looked at him shrewdly. "You have lived in the world, Kirin-san. Can you make them ready?"

Staring at her, Kirin's mind was racing. He hadn't taught students as young as the Three in over ten years but he had to admit that he'd enjoyed interacting with them. It was clear that their eager minds needed activity just as much as their growing bodies. He looked at the ball in the dust wistfully. "I suppose," he said with careful consideration, "we could try it and see how it goes."

O-tama clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I will speak to Takamatsu at once."

The very next night, construction began on a schoolroom and I was wholeheartedly welcomed into the Tengu clan. At first the Three resented giving up so much of their freedom for education but I kept my lessons playful and interesting. I suspected that their rambunctious behavior was due to boredom and soon even mischievous Takakura was drawn into his studies. We concentrated on the basics – reading, writing, math and sciences. In time, even some of the adults began to sit in on the lessons when I began teaching the Three the basics of kanji. Since the Tengu lived near two major port towns, they had no objections when I began teaching English as well.

I took care of my own needs but the Tengu began to show their gratitude in subtle ways. Small comforts would appear in the schoolroom like a thick padded futon long enough for my tall form and colorful cushions to sit upon while reading. I was welcomed into the males' council and ate my meals with them instead of by myself. I began to feel content in my new life but I was still uncomfortable around the females. The hurt caused by my former mate's betrayal ran deep and I did not know if I would ever recover from it.

Fortunately, O-tama knew of a cure.

In the village of the Tengu

Spring 1996

Miza knocked politely on the doorframe. "A thousand pardons, Kirin-san," she called out, "but O-tama was wondering if the Three could be excused from their lessons early. The berry patch is ready to be picked and she wants them to help her harvest them before the birds eat them all."

"Ooh, sensei!" Mozu trilled excitedly. "You haven't tasted anything so good as obaasan's berry tarts!" He beamed at Miza who returned his adoring look.

"Really?" Kirin closed his book and began to shuffle the papers together on the table. "Finish writing your kanji and you can go."

The Three hastily finished and tossed their papers on the table, splattering the wet ink. Kirin shook his head and cleaned up the mess. "Well, it's sloppy but still readable, I suppose," he commented to himself.

"I'm so sorry to have been a distraction."

Kirin looked up to see Miza standing inside the room. Feathered and slender, she was one of Takamatsu's offspring from an earlier mating, her mother having died in Nagasaki. O-tama had helped raise Miza and treated her as her own daughter. "It is nothing," he said dismissively. "They were getting restless. I was thinking of taking them outside to play games. O-tama will get better use out of their energy."

"Very true," Miza agreed. "I was wondering, Kirin-san, if you would like to use the bath house while they are gone? I have filled the tub because I know how messy the Three will be when they get back."

It was a tempting offer, Kirin reflected. He had been bathing in the hot springs or the river because he didn't want to impose on his hosts' generosity. "I don't know," he said slowly, "I'm sure that one of the others might –"

"Oh, they are all busy," Miza replied. "If you like, while you're soaking, I can wash and mend your tunic." She pointed to it. "I've wanted to fix the rip in that hem for ages."

Kirin looked ruefully at his clothes. He was still wearing the same tunic that he'd left Ishimura in; true, turning to stone and back kept a gargoyle and his garments clean enough but years of wear and tear had taken a toll on his garment. "Well," he said finally, "it has been a long time since I've had a civilized bath. I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"Good!" Miza smiled, crinkling her eyes. "I'll fetch a spare robe for you while you get started." She bowed and left the schoolroom before him.

The bath house was located in a sheltered nook in the mountainside and screened from prying eyes by several red cedars. Water was supplied by an ingenious system of pipes into a double-walled tub on a raised platform. The outside was fitted with wooden planks and ceramic tiles lined the inside, providing perfect insulation in all types of weather. Kirin dipped out a bucket of water and undressed, hanging his tunic near the door where Miza could get at it without having to enter. He poured the bucket over his head, reveling in the warm water sluicing down his body. There was a handy bag of rice bran soap to use and Kirin applied it vigorously, relishing the tingling sensation of being truly clean. Several buckets of rinse water later, he was stretched out neck-deep in the steaming tub with his head propped up on the edge. The warmth seeped into his bones, lulling him almost to sleep when something cool and smelling of herbs trickled into his hair.

"Stop that!" Kirin exclaimed indignantly as he snapped his wings around his waist modestly and caused a small tsunami of water to slosh over the edge of the tub. "What are you doing?"

"Washing your hair," Miza answered pertly. "You may not be able to see the back of your head, Kirin-san, but the rest of us are tired of this untidy mop. It looks like birds have been nesting in it." She began to work the shampoo into an aromatic lather, digging her fingers into his red-gold locks. "Do not worry – I do O-tama's hair all the time. I will be gentle with you."

Closing his eyes as soap trickled down the sides of his face, Kirin protested, "That is not the point! I do not want you doing it!"

"I do not mind, Kirin-san," Miza laughed, "but if you prefer, Bana has wanted to get her claws into your hair for ages."

The thought of the plump, boisterous older female with the parrot beak barging into the bath house while he was naked was more than Kirin could stomach. "Very well," he said slowly, "you might as well finish what you've started."

The feathered female gave a trilling laugh and continued what she was doing. Her fingers massaged his scalp as they threaded around his antlered horns. His head and neck often ached from the weight of them so he found her ministrations very soothing. He heard her dip out another bucketful of water and tilted his head back as she poured it over him. She shielded his eyes with her hand to keep the soap out and combed his hair back with her fingers.

"There," Miza said softly, "that gets the top half done. I'll work my way down now."

True to her word, Kirin only felt an occasional tug on his hair as she worked on his tangled mane. He settled back in the steaming water and let his mind drift. Females had been a difficult thing to get used to again. During the terrible period after his mate left him, Kirin had heard the Ishimuran females gossiping – Ikeike had made sure everyone was sympathetic to her plight and set him up as the villain instead of the victim. As result, he had become bitter and distrustful of the entire gender. Only O-tama had managed to get past his resentment and to win his trust. It was sad, really, he reflected as he listened to Miza humming as she worked, because some of his closest friends growing up had been female. He didn't think that he'd ever have that kind of companionship again.

He dozed off again only to be re-awakened briefly by Miza's hands rubbing his neck and shoulders. Her fingers moved up and slowly stroked the curve of his ears. Kirin rumble-purred low in his chest and drifted off in a pleasant dream or so he thought. The water rippled and a warm body joined him in the bath. Innocent touches soon became intimate caresses and before Kirin was fully conscious, he and Miza were entangled in a lover's knot. He tried to pull away from her but Miza had her legs and tail wrapped tight around him.

"How did this happen?" he demanded. "Why are you doing this?"

"Does it matter?" She gave a throaty chuckle. "Parts of you do not object."

"Mi-za," he growled as he rose, lifting her over the tub's edge with the intent of stopping things before they went too far. Miza was proving to be persistent. "You are a mated female. We should not be doing this."

"I am free to give my favors where I wish, Kirin-san," she said coyly. "Are you going to be so rude as to refuse my gift?"

"But I –" He grimaced, baring his fangs. His body was betraying him and she knew it.

"Shhh…" Miza put her fingers over his lips. "You need this." She flexed her hips, hissing as she drew him further inside her. "And so do I."

Kirin tried to hold back but a long-denied mating drive was driving him further into lust. It was wrong, terribly wrong but passion was overriding his senses. With a stifled roar, Kirin gave in to his body's needful urges and lowered Miza to the bathhouse floor.

Afterwards, they lay panting and exhausted on the wooden floor. Kirin barely had enough strength to drape his wing across their naked bodies. "So," he asked breathlessly, "just what did I do to deserve this?"

"You've done many things for us," Miza answered simply, "and you've been very kind to my Mozu. He's never been happier and I appreciate that." She smiled and stroked back the hair falling over his eyes. "Goro has always been disappointed in him, because Mozu is so small."

"Goro?" Kirin raised himself up on one elbow. "He is Mozu's father?" Goro had been one of the first Tengu males to call him friend and they had grown to respect each other. It was disturbing to think that he'd encroached on Goro's territory.

"It is all right, Kirin-san," Miza said, seeing the panic in his eyes. "We Tengu have open matings. My second egg, the one that is in the rookery now, I had with Makino." She let her fingers drift over his chest lazily. "Perhaps when I come into season again, you would like to do the honors, neh?"

Ice water froze in his veins and Kirin pushed away from her. "I'm sorry," he said shakily as he rose to his feet and stumbled to the door. "Thank you, Miza, but I –" He turned and bolted from the bathhouse as if demons were chasing him.

The schoolroom was dark, lit only by the pale column of moonlight streaming in through the open door. Kirin had been curled on his side staring at the woodgrain of the wall for what seemed to be hours. Dark memories haunted him from an earlier time. He could hear distant voices as clearly as if they were in the room with him.

"—the differences in gargoyle and human metabolisms aside, you would seem to have some form of testosterone deficiency, possibly hormonal dysfunction of the hypothalamic-pituitary-gonadal axis which would affect the production of –"

"Please, brother – I would not ask if there was any other way! An open flight would shame Ikeike too much. I cannot do that to her."

"This council has been convened by for the purpose of dissolving the formal union of weapons master Kirin and wingleader Ikeike. We will now hear the formal reasons for this action –"

"—I had to be fertilized by another male! Kirin is no better than a eunuch! I demand that our mating be undone!"

Afterwards, everyone had said that Kirin had acted honorably in the face of dishonor as he accepted the council's verdict stoically like the samurai of old. The fact of the matter was that he had been too emotionally paralyzed to do anything else. Everything that had ever mattered to him – a mate, children, a future – it had all been swept away in an instant and he had never said one word or ever shed a tear. He'd kept his private shame bottled up inside him where no one else could find it … until now.

The floor creaked and a soft blanket covered him. Cloth rustled as someone kneeled besides him. "Kirin-san?" O-tama asked in a voice just above a whisper. "Are you all right?"

He shivered and said nothing.

"I am truly sorry," she continued. "You spend so much time alone; we thought perhaps you might enjoy pillowing with Miza. She is afraid that she offended you."

"No." Kirin licked his lips. "She was quite wonderful. Tell her it was my fault, not hers."

"What is wrong then?" She reached over and stroked the damp curls from his face. "You are only making yourself ill, acting like this."

"You never asked me why I left Ishimura."

Her fingers brushed his brow ridges. "I assumed you would tell me when you were ready."

"Miza said—" his voice broke, "—she said the breeding season is open here."

"Yes?" Her voice was puzzled. "I know that it is only on certain nights in Ishimura but we do not have the numbers to be strictly monogamous here. A breeding female is encouraged to have offspring by more than just one male."

"She offered that to me." A shudder shook his body. "I cannot have that honor."

"Why? I asked if there had been any problems but Miza was most complementary. She would have not offered otherwise."

"I can't."

"Is there another female?"

"No." Taking a deep breath, he forged ahead. "I can't breed."

O-tama's fingers paused. "But she said that you performed well — that you gave her much pleasure!"

"When the clan healers in Ishimura can't diagnose a problem, we consult with human doctors in the village." His voice dropped. "I cannot father a child, O-tama. There is something wrong with me."

"Your seed is weak?"

Kirin gave a half-hearted shrug. "I suppose – the doctors said many things that I did not understand and wanted even less to hear."

Unexpectedly, O-tama curled up behind him and stretched her arm around him with her chin on his shoulder. She seemed to realize that how difficult it had been to tell her. Several minutes passed before she spoke again – he could tell that she was considering his situation very seriously. "I knew something had wounded you but I never imagined this."

"Please don't tell anyone," he said hoarsely. "Everyone knew in Ishimura. The whispers, the stares -- I couldn't bear it."

"That is why you left?"

His voice sounded hollow in his ears. "Yes."

"What the healer hears is for the healer's ears," she answered back. "Do not worry, Kirin-san. If anyone asks, I will say that your heart was broken and that is true enough, neh?"

"Truer than you know," he admitted.

"Then that is all that will ever be said." O-tama began to rub his back and shoulders with the blanket. "Your skin is like ice, Kirin-san. I will have a brazier lit in here." She dropped a dark blue yukata with a white pattern in front of him. "Put this on, please, while I take care of that." Taking a firm grip on his arm, O-tama pulled him up to a sitting position. "You will be dressed when I get back, neh?"

Kirin felt like a wayward hatchling being lectured but did as O-tama asked. It was clear that she felt that he'd spent enough time feeling sorry for himself. There was a chorus of anxious voices outside and he sighed, knowing that a ring of curious Tengu that had been lurking at a discreet distance. He belted up the robe and padded over to the window overlooking the gorge.

As Kirin watched the rushing water below, he realized how close he'd come to sinking into that dark depression that he'd been in back in Ishimura. Until Miza mentioned wanting to share her mating season with him, Kirin had locked that personal shame away but apparently he would never be free of it.

"Come along, boys," O-tama said quietly. "Carry in the brazier and put it next to the table." Kirin cast his eyes towards the door to see the Tengu healer carrying a covered tray while Tancho carried a small brazier and Mozu brought in a pail of coal. They were wearing clean tunics but Kirin could still see traces of berry stains on their fingers and lips.

"I see the berry picking was good," Kirin commented as he settled down on his usual cushion at the table. "Did any of them make it to the kitchen?"

"Bana and Kiyo are sorting through the baskets now," O-tama commented as she set down her tray and dismissed the hatchlings. "It was a good harvest. You see," she said as she picked up a bottle and a wide-toothed comb, "I've been tending this particular grove of bushes for many seasons. The human farmers around here would never attempt to grow this variety. They would say that the ground is too rocky or the mountains are too cold or the weather is too wet. In fact, I got the original plant from a farmer's compost pile. Its branches were broken and battered."

The warm scent of wintergreen oil filled the air as O-tama rubbed it into his hair. "If it is so much trouble to grow," Kirin winced as she began to slide the comb through his tangles, "why bother with it?"

"Everything has its own possibility, Kirin-san," O-tama said simply. "As long as there is life, it is worth nurturing and by doing so, nothing is impossible. Perhaps you came to the Tengu to begin your own healing, neh?"

"I—" Kirin shook his head, stunned by the directness of her logic, "I do not know."

"Then that is where we shall start."

To be continued in Part II of "Ronin" …..