Seikage shut the door to her chamber behind her and slipped to the floor. Things on the estate had calmed down now that Lord Jizen had left for Touran. Before her own departure, Seikage knew she had to ready herself for her mission. In front of her was an ornate censer made from white jade, candles placed on either side. Behind was a medallion of the same jade, a carving of Byakko. Her shrine was simple, but always tended with the utmost care and reverence. Seikage placed incense in the censer and lit it, then the candles. The spicy scent wrapped around her, filled her consciousness with each deep, even breath, carrying her soul on invisible wings to divorce her completely from the physical world. Seikage began to slip away, into an almost trance-like state, the floodgates to memory being thrown open in her mind. Emotions swirled around her like the incense, resting on her and moving on. Connections could be unearthed, tying every emotion to a time and place, events both insignificant and of monumental importance.  She felt the warmth of contentment as she saw herself kneeling before another, distant shrine to Byakko. Sairo-koku, the brothel in Mou Tu. Kneeling next to aneki.

	Aneki...longing flowed through her, tinting her vision of the past as if she were seeing it through colored glass. Aneki, a sister by name, not blood, but her only family in that God-forsaken place. Aneki, who had given her a name, taken little Seikage under her wing, protected her little imouto as best she could. Slowly, as if emerging from a thick fog, eikage felt the calm presence of her aneki at worship beside her, allowing the longing to be left behind. Always a sense of peace surrounded aneki. Not the same sense she got from master. His sense was slimy, like the dead fish Seikage had been sent to fetch at market. Slimy, cold, and intrinsically evil. She stayed out of master's way, hid behind aneki's skirts when he passed.  Seikage had called him Warui for years, behind his back. A sharp pain, a jab of fear like a knife. The day he found out, dragged her out to garden, aneki running behind, begging the little eight-year-old be released as he flung her into the shed, locked her in, and left her for a day without food or water. Fear had turned to an overriding sense of doom. Something was happening, she was getting older, and master was starting to notice.Confusion, such confusion, all a blur. The next year. Seikage had felt tension, building up, dying down, rising again. Always, the walls seemed about ready to collapse on her from the intangible weight. Aneki tried to stop master, tried to stop him from hurting the increasingly willful and rebellious nine-year-old, tried to hold back his thoughts of making Seikage 'earn her keep.' Resentment, anxiety, fear, all the bad emotions in the house ready to burst as the banks of the river did after a storm. A sudden spike of fear, from aneki! Hatred from master. They were talking in the kitchen. "Time for that little brat to work!"
	"No, she's only nine! That's too young!" 
	"You dare DEFY me?!"
	NO! Her own hatred, her loyalty to and fear for aneki. A hand raised to strike her aneki. The flash of the knife's blade. Shining, flying, splitting the air, shrieking, terror, confusion, revulsion. The knife came away covered in blood, a torrent flowing from master's neck. Dead. Stone dead with no time to cry out. The knife dropped from her hand into the pool of blood at her feet. Face passive, soul screaming.  Aneki looked calm, inside waves of terror rolled out and over Seikage. She watched the young girl. Angel of death, taking aneki's protection into her own hands.  Suddenly, grabbing Seikage's arm, hauling her away. Terror not that master would hurt her. He was dead.  No, terror that imouto-chan would be found. That they would see the stains of red on her light brown tunic.  That she wouldn't be able to protect Seikage against that which might come.  She shoved Seikage into the same shed of the year before, her terror overriding imouto-chan's. Aneki walking away, the ripples of terror touching Seikage with less intensity.
	Fading
	Everything fading, 
	Calming.
	Storm clouds gathered above her, outside. 
	In her heart the clouds had broken, leaving a strange calm in the wake of violence. Everything still, blurry, light and world receding. Closing her eyes. Exhaustion, then, mercifully, sleep.
	Later that night a lone shadow stole out into the woods, carrying a satchel, armed to the teeth, and wearing a black cloak. The shadow stopped, pushed back the hood of the cloak, and took a last look back at the estate, not nowing when she could hope to return. Seikage, her duties at the estate completed, turned her mind back to her mission.  Soundlessly, she made her way deeper into the forest and was gone.


	Snow swirled around her, slowing her progress. It had started two hour out from the estate. Seikage could imagine Kiri's delight the next morning when the little girl would wake up to the sight of snow outside the window.  The beautiful, crystalline powder, however, was not what Seikage needed for a three-day journey on foot. Shifting the weight of her satchel, Seikage stopped at the edge of a clearing to get her bearings. The wind had picked up, blowing the edges of her raven-black cloak around her. Growling in frustration at the cold and the near-zero visibility provided by the snow, Seikage slipped off her satchel and pulled out her long-sleeve tunic, finally submitting to the fact that her cloak and her short sleeve tunic simply weren't enough to combat the freezing temperatures. As she fastened the clasps on her tunic, she heard a noise close by, one not natural to the forest. She grabbed her cloak and put it on inside out, exposing the white side, so as to blend in with the snow. Then, she hung her satchel from a tree branch and moved silently from one tree to the next, towards the road.
	When she reached the underbrush near to the road, she fell on her stomach, ignoring the freezing snow against her tunic, and began crawling carefully closer to the sounds. Two body lengths from the road she stopped, and held perfectly still, her cloak covering her completely.  The voices were that of two men. "K'so! I can't believe the strap on my bag snapped! We have to find it!" one said. "What's in that bag that's so important?" asked the other. Leader and follower, Seikage thought, listening to the tones of their voices. One's in charge. "That's the bag with the map in it, baka! How else are we supposed to find Kikaku?" the leader exclaimed.
	Kikaku? Why would anyone be traveling to that town? "Kisama! You dropped the bag with the map?!?" the follower replied. "I didn't DROP it, the strap broke!" the leader growled in frustration. Seikage shook her head. Morons, she thought. Making so much noise in the middle of the night on a road where there might be bandits lurking. "Look, we had better find it. Majime-sama ordered us up to Kikaku, so we have to hurry. Here, gimme that," barked out the leader. A few seconds later one lit a torch, throwing shadows into the darkness. "You think the uprising in Kikaku will help the cause?" the follower asked. "If Majime-sama says so, of course it will," the leader replied. Torch in hand, he turned to look for his bag. He found it in the hand of the cloaked figure. "Looking for this?" Seikage asked, bag in hand. 
	"What-? Where did you come from? Gimme that!" the leader cried, grabbing for the bag. "Don't be so grabby. I'll give you the bag if you give me some information." The man scowled. "Don't make us hurt you, girl. Gimme my bag and I'll let this slide." Seikage grinned. "I don't think so. Tell me about this 'uprising' in Kikaku, and I'll give you the bag." Seikage stood easily, a cold look taunting him to try anything, the hilt of one of her swords just visible beneath her cloak. The leader glared at her, and finally spit out a few words of explanation. "The people of Kikaku have rejected the false god and taken up the cause of the one true god.  Now hand over the bag."
	"Just a moment. How exactly did they 'reject' Genbu?" Seikage asked. "Enough questions. Hand over my bag!" he yelled. "Fine.  Here," Seikage said, tossing the bag at his feet, scattering his belongs into the snow. The leader turned and handed the torch to his companion, then knelt to collect his belongings.		As he picked them up, he realized his map was gone. "K'so!" he cried, snapping his head up to stare at the girl.
	His eyes encountered nothing but the snow, and darkness.

	Back at the clearing, Seikage slipped her satchel off the tree, then placed the map inside. "Kisama." Who is this Majime they spoke of? They must be of that new cult Sekinin and I heard of on our last mission together, Seikage thought, touching the tiny jade medallion of Byakko she wore tucked under her tunic. But an uprising at the shrine in Kikaku? I hadn't realized this little fad was that serious. I must report to Jizen-sama, soon.


	Cursing the dark, the forest, her missions, the cold, and especially the snow, Seikage tramped along on her way to Touran.
	If only I were a Genbu seishi, she thought. Then I'd probably have the power to control this storm instead of having to go walking through four hours straight of nothing but cold, wet flakes. Growling more obscenities under her breath and adjusting her satchel, she wearily tried to recall how long it had been since anything interesting had happened.  After she had encountered the two men on their way to Kikaku, four hours before, the only other events of note had been encounters with small, furry forest animals, most of which had run in terror at her unexpected intrusion upon their dwelling places. 
	Her visibility had been down to effectively zero for at least two hours, with no sign of the storm letting up.
	That's it, I can't take it anymore! There's only so much continuous snow and cold I can stand. Bringing her head up against the blinding whiteness, Seikage started scouting for a place to rest for a bit. She hadn't gone another 50 meters before she saw a dark blur to her left, a good distance off. Stopping, she looked more closely. Beneath the heavy cloth of her tunic, her seishi symbol began glowing a faint white as her eyes clearly distinguished rocks, small plants, and, luckily, no sign of animal life.  Giving a glance back at the road, Seikage trudged in the direction of the small cave, hoping it would bring her at least a few minutes relief from the raging storm.




	Light was beginning to seep through the thick, heavy clouds when Seikage's eyes opened. Floundering, only half-conscious, her hand touched on the rough walls of stone, providing an anchor with which to close the gap between her and reality. What? I fell asleep?! Seikage berated herself for her stupidity. First mission rule, she thought, is sleep equals death. Glaring out of the cave at the intruding light, she gathered her satchel and stepped outside into the blinding brightness of a snow-covered landscape. It was still snowing, but not quite so heavily as before. Still, it was not a light flurry. Seikage scowled at the idea of once again walking through thick snow, but having no choice but to get on her way she started moving. I have wasted enough time as it is. I must hurry to next town to meet Jizen before he continues on to Touran. 
	Judging by the light, Seikage decided she had wasted two hours asleep in the tiny cave. She was fairly certain that if she walked quickly, she would make it to the inn, where Jizen was staying, in two hours, in time to speak with him before he started again to Touran. Seikage would then spend a few hours resting at the inn before continuing to travel behind her master. Alone as she walked Seikage had only a small part of her attention taken by her surroundings, so the rest she left to thoughts flowing, without any logical connection, through her mind. Seikage thought about how Jizen had taken her in when she was only thirteen. She had been a street rat in Mou Tu. Living by her wits she had acquired some skill at silent movement, essential for a thief.  For that was her occupation, her one source of income, and the skill that kept her alive. Jizen had caught her in a fight with a young man, a victim of her thieving skills, and had gotten a demonstration of her tactical sense when her small form went up against brute force. Jizen had watched as she'd used her attacker's weight and his slower speed to beat him in more of a contest of tactics than strength. That was when he'd decided to offer her a place in his household as a ninja. She had responded with suspicion and sarcasm. She had not lived so long on her own by accepting every seemingly kind-hearted display of charity. Her observations of him that evening, however, accomplished by sneaking across palace rooftops for a view of the courtyard attached to Jizen?s rooms, had helped her overcome some of her paranoia. She had watched him lamenting his long absence to one of aides, worrying over the well being of his wife and young daughter. The faint glow of a candle had revealed the kind expression on his face as he spoke of his daughter. Seikage felt her barriers go down, unable to rein in the emotional, trusting part of her spirit she had so carefully repressed since she had first realized its potential danger. Her mind made up, she waited near the palace until dawn, when she saw him making preparations to leave with his entourage. She had followed them until they were outside the city and a convenient time to ask him if his offer still stood presented itself. 
	When she'd approached him, he had indeed still been willing to offer her a place. So she had spent the next six years as a ninja. The path she was still on now. 
	A slow path. But, as she had predicted, she reached the inn under two hours later, cold, tired, and very glad to see the early morning light (even masked by the clouds) illuminating the small stop-over town.  Mustering strength and energy, she stepped up to the door of the inn and flung it open.
	Striding into the main room with confidence, she scanned it by reflex. Three dead-drunken men sprawled out in the corner. Two more asleep at the tables. Broken cups, half-eaten food, and one very exhausted inn keeper. 
	"Seikage-san? How are you?" Zenbu Harau, the owner of the inn, asked. "Oh, fine," she said, making her way to the bar. "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Yes. Sake. Warm sake. It is freezing out there!" she exclaimed, knowing the alcohol would be no trouble. It wasn't like she'd lived nineteen years for nothing. Her tolerance for alcohol was not only useful, but a true skill, especially when an enemy expects that after your fifth shot of sake you will be very tipsy. Not so for Seikage. Must be something in my blood, she thought. Oh, well, who cares? I just want something warm to drink! Zenbu returned, bearing a cup of sake and a bowl of rice, her usual. She gratefully accepted both. "So, has Jizen-sama awakened yet?" she asked as she shoveled some of the warm rice into her mouth. Zenbu was well aware of the connection between the two and quite happy to keep it a secret due to the generous tips both Jizen and she dolled out every visit. "No, he is still in his chamber. But I expect he will rise soon, then you may have the chamber until evening." Seikage nodded. Business as usual.
	"And the drunks? Were they any trouble?" she asked. Zenbu looked over, a rueful smile on his face. "No, no trouble, my dear. Just your typical morons. We only had one interesting thing, two men who were in here yesterday, stopping on their way to Kikaku."
	Seikage repressed her impulse to display any emotion and simply said, "Two men? They get drunk, or were they a bit better than this lot?" Zenbu laughed. "No, they were okay. A bit stupid, but they only had a drink each and food, which I suppose means less profit for me, but also less brawling and broken cups and tables. They kept to themselves, in the corner, talking in secret." Seikage nodded.
	"So you didn't hear much of what they said?" she inquired. Zenbu shook his head. 
	From above, Seikage caught movement out of the corner of her eye. At the top of the stairs appeared Jizen, he aides following behind. He came up to the counter, paying Seikage no mind.
	"Here you are, Zenbu-san. As always, your hospitality and services have been most appreciated," he said as he handed a small pouch of coins to the inn-keeper, who smiled broadly and responded, "It was my pleasure to once again host you, Jizen-sama. Safe journey." Jizen nodded and proceeded to the back to ready the horses. As soon as he was gone, Seikage threw back the shot of sake, then stood. "I'll be back in a moment, Zenbu-san," He nodded, and Seikage followed Jizen. 
	Outside, in the swirl of snow, Jizen had mounted his horse and was waiting for Seikage's report. "Jizen-sama," she said as bowed, "I have news, although what significance it holds I do not know." "Yes?" Jizen said. "On the way here I met two men traveling to Kikaku. They reported an uprising in that town, against Genbu, in support of what they said was the 'one true god,' which I believe refers to the cult Sekinin and I told you of after our last mission. They also spoke of someone called Majime, and I take it he is some sort of leader-figure. They continued, but not before I hindered their progress a little," with this Seikage produced the map from beneath her cloak and handed it to Jizen. "Also, Zenbu said the men were here yesterday, but stayed apart at a table in the corner, talking." Jizen nodded as he took the map. 
	"Indeed, I saw them. Good work, Seikage. Now you may rest." Seikage bowed and watched as Jizen and his men rode away, then slipped back inside. She thanked Zenbu for the sake, picked up her satchel and made her way up to her room. She was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.