Nabeshima Cho walked to the restaurant wearing a wide-brimmed hat that concealed her delicate facial features. On either side were two young retainers who seemed rather indifferent to the person they were guarding and a maid followed behind her. Cho untied the strings to her hat once she stepped up to the familiar restaurant. She came to this restaurant often, for it was known well for its noodles and it was also her own family's estate.

She knew to knock three times before entering the restaurant. The retainers stood by the door as the woman walked in. The maid slid the hat off her head and the woman knew exactly where to go. A devilish smile played upon her lips as she looked at the few customers that inhabited her family's home. It was always going to be her family's home. Not this soba restaurant which she disapproved of, but never had the heart to tell her older brother.

Being the only one to uphold her family's traditions and still be alive was an accomplishment.

"Oniisama!" Her voice called out, melodic in nature. "I come with a gift." She added a giggle.

“Kuso...” Cursing lightly, Kazuya scrambled to serve the remaining dishes. He had been in the back of the kitchen all morning, testing his new recipe's on innocent customers. So far, only one had to seek medical treatment. That was a huge improvement compared to yesterday's chaos. The Nabeshima estate was spacious, with a large eating area settled out in the front gardens. Hearing his sister's voice caused Kazuya's skin to crawl. Cho had a way with grabbing his attention and the servants rushed to keep his temper in check.

“I thought I told you to keep her out of here!”

“I'm sorry, Kazuya-sama...she was very persuasive.” One of the serving girls helped him into a silk kimono and quickly fitted it around his form. His work clothes would be abandoned, but not without some resentment.

Barely flinching, he walked past her and eyed a dish of noodles that had something odd jutting from its center. The shuriken was quickly wrenched from the bowl and it quickly launched toward Cho. Sinking in the wall behind her, he let her think if the action was purposeful, or if he had intended to hit her.

Customers began to file out, when his true anger began to show. “Unless the gift can replace my lost customers, I'm not interested!” Picking up the abandoned bowls, he forced them into the hands of a waitress who scurried to the back room.

“Now that you've cleared my restaurant and scared my new girl to death, why are you really here Cho?” Kazuya dislodged the shuriken from the wall and teased her with the weapon. “I think this is yours...” He grinned at her, albeit challenging and with the same ego he had from their last meeting.

Twirling the shuriken between his fingers, he dared her to take it from him.

It was just like old times.

Cho smiled. She seemed amused by Kazuya's anger. She just moved out of the way of the shuriken and watched him twirl the shuriken around his finger. Her small hand pushed the bowl of noodles aside. Her hands folded in front of her.

"I don't know why you get so angry to see me, Oniisama." She shrugged.

Cho had figured out a long time ago that her older brother didn't like when she visited because each visit would start nicely and end horribly. She tilted her head and yawned boredly.

"I lied. I don't have a gift for you." She offered a giggle. "But I'm here, so you might as well entertain me with tales and tidbits of what you have heard. And I will repay you by not burning this place down. How about that?"

Cho would probably not burn the restaurant down. She seemed amused. "Oh, those people will be back. Your noodles are delicious enough." Her hands ran across the table she sat at as though she were looking for something.

Sighing, Kazuya looked over his sister. She looked well, considering he hadn't seen her in weeks. Passing her the shuriken, he took the bowl of neglected noodles and began to eat. His recipe was nothing special, or something that demanded his attention, but he enjoyed the process of creating the traditional dish.

Most of the patrons that filtered in his restaurant were commoners. Now and again, he'd come across a lone samurai, or imperial looking for something quaint, but it was a rarity. Since the death of his parents, Kazuya had plenty of free time to make up new recipe's. He enjoyed the simple life of a soba chef, compared to risking life and limb as a shinobi.

Slurping up the last of the noodles, he finally spoke to her. Keeping her in complete silence always got under her skin. Her company kept some of his sanity, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. “I was offered a job by some imperial ass, but I decided to turn it down. The new girls can barely look after the restaurant on their own. It would have been a nightmare.”

Everything he had just said was a lie. Kazuya had to be careful and watchful of unwanted eyes and ears lurking about for tidbits of information. Passing her an unsuspecting amount of money, he smirked at her. He had taken pleasure in killing the man and enjoyed the payment for doing the job even more. Anything he made went straight to his sister, or for supplies in the restaurant. He was gaining a small reputation and managed to keep his movements subtle.

“Unfortunately, I have nothing to report. I'll close the restaurant down for awhile, so we can discuss your living arrangements.”

Reaching for another bowl, Kazuya began to interweave the noodles with the chopsticks. In mere minutes, the food was gone. Taking a fluted pitcher, he poured the saké into simple cups and sipped thoughtfully. The aroma of the fermented rice beverage took over.

Before Cho's arrival, he had taken up an odd job with an imperial to take care of one of his rivals. Kazuya usually left his victims with a slit throat and stripped of their valuables. Before the man died, he gave Kazuya all of the information he needed for the imperial. While the man still had his vocal cords intact, he had whispered something strange. Ever since the man's body had been disposed of, he was still guessing at its meaning. Perhaps it was a fond nickname, but it didn't settle right with Kazuya.

Giving a shinobi a nickname, or tag of any sort, meant that you weren't exactly covering your tracks like you thought you were. Maybe Cho had heard of something familiar during her travels.

When they moved from the table to the back of the room, he shut the door and made the servants leave for their homes. “Just before I killed the man, he called me Red Blade. I thought I was doing a better job, but it would seem others know about my talents.” There was no quick fix for a growing reputation, other than to fail, or become notorious.

“Should I be worried, Cho? I don't want the damned shogun showing up at my door.” He had a feeling his reputation was growing by his killing methods. Kazuya was not an easy man to be tracked down, but it wasn't to say that it was impossible.

The tone of his voice had a hint of sarcasm and not necessarily actual worry. In truth, he was flattered that he was gaining the reputation for the small jobs he had acquired.

Cho sat with a thoughtful expression on her face. She ran a finger along her lips in thought before her brother broke the silence between them. Cho was less unnerved this time because she was mulling over her thoughts about Lord Akiyama. She was drawn out of her thoughts when Kazuya began talking. She listened and laughed softly as though what he said was very casual.

"I agree about the girls." She mused, doing what she could to keep prying eyes and ears away. "They should spend a week with the Akiyama. They'd be whipped into shape in no time."

Well, either whipped into shape or molested. It didn't really matter.

"Speaking of the good Lord Akiyama, I hear word that he's showing some fondness for the Lady Kurohara." She smirked. "He has told me a few times and even writes poems in her name out in the garden. Lord Akiyama burns them, though. He is too embarrassed to share them with the good Lady Mizuke."

She took the small cup of sake and lifted it to her lips.

"It's a shame. The poor Lord Akiyama is too shy to profess his love for his Lady for he fears he will be rejected." She seemed to be sniffing the sake for poison.

Cho sighed softly, placing the cup on the table without taking a sip. "I don't believe that you have to worry about the Emperor or the Prince coming to your humble noodle shop, Oniisama. I feel that your shop will be safe. However, it would be a great honor should they come." She drank the sake.

"You should make your best noodles for them." There were always rumors of people plotting against the Imperial family. She was, in her own way, giving him the order to kill them should they have the knowledge of Kazuya's identity.

Kazuya listened to his sister albeit too intently. He had forgotten about his sake and took notice of her fair use of codes. Serving an imperial would be a great honor, but he would be shocked if the Prince came to his humble shop. This was not the place to serve someone of his high caliber.

Listening to the love affair of Lord Akiyama, he smirked openly. “She should be with someone who isn't a coward with their commitment. Granted, I can't see Lady Kurohara with someone like me.” Kazuya knew that Lady Kurohara was out of his reach, but it would be amusing if he could help Lord Akiyama pursue her.

Noticing the gleam in his sister's eye, he took her information as some form of mischief. “I will make my noodles for whomever I please. But you should hold your tongue and be careful who you keep company with.” He paused thoughtfully and instantly became reminded of Jiro. She was more than likely still traveling with him. Kazuya had never approved of the man, but there was little say he had in it now. “I don't want to end up burying a sister because of petty gossip.” His voice was a little more serious, but it was slurred from the sake working its way in his system.

“I think I should start focusing on sake for the shop...” Which meant that he would be drunk that evening and for the rest of the week.

Cho laughed softly. She seriously doubted Lady Kurohara would randomly fall in love with Kazuya. Cho's attention moved to Kazuya's facial expressions. With a slight shake of her head, she rolled her eyes.

"I don't know if you've forgotten, but I sort of have no choice in the company that I keep." She drank more sake.

A bitter facial expression scrunched up with the contact between her tongue and the sake. Suddenly, sake was not fun to drink. The room fell silent and she fully turned to the door. Immediately, she dropped to the floor in a full bow.

To everyone's surprise, the Prince's bodyguards filed in, followed by the young Prince. His hand traveled through his long hair as looked around the room.

"Who is in charge here?" His voice was low and calm as always.

Kazuya didn't have time to bow, but he was utterly shocked. The sake began to spill out of his cup from nerves. He quickly wiped up the mess with a simple rag and was suddenly the voice of a military unit. Servants came in from every direction and seated the Prince to his private table. Snapping his fingers at Cho, he gave her a forgiving look and then whispered his orders to her. “Keep him entertained for me. You know how to dance...show him your talent!” If all went well, maybe the Prince would take a liking to his sister. He could feel his heart race against his chest. Praying silently, Kazuya hoped he wouldn't pass out on the floor.

“I am in charge here, but Cho will be your serving girl. She would love to keep you company and make your stay enjoyable. It is a great honor to have you in my humble shop.” Bowing deeply, he disappeared into the back of the kitchen. The smell of alcohol was still thick in the air, but he quickly rid the scent with freshly cut vegetables and spices. While Cho entertained the Prince, he would be busy gaining his bearing and preparing himself for the meal.

This meal could define him and his shop. Peeking from the kitchen now and then, he began to prepare all of the ingredients for the most basic, to the most delicate of the soba dishes. Kazuya never imagined his dream actually taking form- but here was the Prince enjoying some of their finest tea.

Serving girls would arrange flowers in the room to brighten the space. Candles would be placed and lit low for an ambient lighting. The flurry of his serving girls had transformed a dull dining room into a lavish restaurant.

Normally, one of the Prince's swords would have left its sheath and Kazuya's head would have left his shoulders. Strangely, the absurdity of everything amused Masahiko. He twitched, then looked to the bowing woman.

Stiffly, Cho rose and looked around. She was very uncomfortable. Cho bowed once again to Prince Masahiko. He turned his attention to her. Two of the girls started to play music for Cho while she danced a very basic dance. The Prince was seated at a table with one of his guards.

His finger ran across his chin. In this way, Cho seemed ageless. She turned, looking at Masahiko from the top of her fan. Masahiko's blue eyes brightened as he seemed to recognize her. He didn't say anything until after the music died down. The Prince clapped and Cho bowed.

"Please, join me, Cho-chan."

Cho bowed and sat down across from the Prince. He grabbed her hand. "You are very graceful, Cho-chan."

Cho blushed. "Thank you. The honor is too great." She didn't look into the Prince's eyes.

"Oh, here." Masahiko's hand moved under her chin and she blushed immediately.

A girl came, placing tea on the table. Cho sat back and served tea to the Prince. She bowed.

Masahiko was amused. "This doesn't appear to be a normal restaurant."

"It is my family's residence, the Nabeshima's estate. I am the daughter, Cho, and my brother Kazuya-sama owns this restaurant. He makes very wonderful noodles. I do not live here anymore, as per an agreement made between the Akiyama clan and my parents."

He tilted his head. "You are married?"

"N..No, Masahiko-sama."

Masahiko was known for being a bit of a flirt. He also was not one to spoil the opportunity to have a pretty woman such as Nabeshima Cho waiting on him.

"I thought your clan had vanished, but I see it is not so." He reached out and caressed Cho's cheek.

Cho laughed a high pitched laugh.

Kazuya got to work in the kitchen. His nerves settled, once he felt in his element again. Kneading and working the dough, he flatted it out into a perfectly circular shape and began to fold it. Once completely folded, he blanketed the mass in flour and brandished a blade. Cho might see the glint of the steel, as he hurriedly cut the flour into elongated noodle shapes.

Kneeling in front of the table, he measured by eye to keep the perfection. Noticing that one was slightly out of shape, he spun the blade in his hand and shaved off the annoyance. Cho would hear the quick clank of his blade hitting the cutting board. He was a little too adept with a simple cutting knife.

Gathering up the noodles, he placed the noodles in a cooking basket and submerged them in the boiling water for seconds at a time. Once they were done, he began to add the colorful spices and vegetables. The scent of ginger and wasabi oil would invade the atmosphere, while he placed them in neat mounds into delicate porcelain bowls. Small cups would accompany the bowls with the typical sauce for soba.

He would have to personally deliver the meal and that began to set him on edge. Kazuya double checked the meal again and even straightened a simple flourish. Without hesitation, he carried out the meal with a practiced balance. His sister had never actually seen him work, but she wouldn't be so surprised by his abilities. “You honor us, Prince Masahiko-sama. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

Serving the Prince first, he bowed and then served Cho. Everything was in place and he only had to wait for his critique. Kazuya stepped back into the kitchen again and waited with an impatience he had never experienced before.

He began to speak out loud to himself:

“I might as well set the place on fire and lock myself in the kitchen if he doesn't like it.” Kazuya nervously rearranged items in the kitchen and tried to busy his mind. It was a difficult task, when the Prince was about to share a meal with your sister.

He started to move the spices up on the shelf, when Kazuya noticed that one had been added to his collection. Pausing, he glared at the jar in an almost accusing manner. Upon further inspection, he noticed that the powder was not a spice at all, but a toxin used to paralyze.

Cursing out loud, he fumbled with the powder and quickly separated it from the pile. Rushing out, he didn't know what to do, other than yell out a warning. "Cho! Don't let him eat that!" He wondered what his father would have done, if he had been in his position. Death could be inevitable, especially if he was accused for poisoning the Prince.

Judging by the powder, the paralyzing substance had been left by his careless girlfriend. She had a way of tampering with his property and making his life a living Hell. He hadn't seen her in weeks and doubted he would be able to logically explain the poisoning.

You couldn't very well accuse someone, who lacked the ability of making an appearance.

The pair had spent a majority of the time talking about Cho's freedom and of the Prince Cho's fingers wiggled slightly as she was served the noodles. Her eyes traveled to the Prince and the Prince was daring her to eat first. Cho ate slowly. She was surprised that her brother's noodles actually tasted delicious. She had never had any noodles quite so delicious in her lifetime. Maybe she was wrong at being so hard on Kazuya. She dipped her noodles into the sauce and eyed the Prince to see if he was enjoying his meal.

"These noodles are quite delicious." He said simply.

Cho bowed. "You honor us greatly, Prince Masahiko-sa-"

She saw Masahiko's eyes droop downwards and he slumped to the side. Cho began to feel a strange numbing sensation. Before she could scowl and yell at Kazuya, she slumped face first into her bowl of noodles and sauce.

The guards were soon on their feet, looking for the culprit. The culprit mainly being Kazuya.

Kazuya didn't know what to do, except pretend like that jar of powder in his hand was in fact an antidote.

Looking to the still form of the Prince and to his sister, he had to think quick. He hadn't actually planned on poisoning the poor bastard, but now royalty was slumped over on his noodles. The guards brandished their blades, but Kazuya refused to be put to death over this misunderstanding. His mind went through his usual tactics. He could try to fight them off, but his weapons were stored in the back room and he wouldn't be able to move fast enough.

Blackmail.

Isn't that how you always got out of trouble? (That's what his girlfriend had taught him anyway. She was always so sweet, until someone cornered her.) His mind raced for a plan and his lips slowly curled into a smile when one formed. Slicking his hair back, he pulled off the cooking apron and willingly stepped in front of the guards. No doubt, his sister could hear everything and possibly even witness his reckless bravery.

“If you want your Prince to live, you'll remove your weapons. I possess the antidote. That powder in his meal is a poison that will stop his heart in minutes- unless you let me save him.” Smirking with a coy arrogance, Cho would see her brother in a very different light. Within minutes, his entire demeanor had changed. He was no longer a jovial cook, but a calculating criminal. Kazuya was not the type to lose...even to a snobby Prince like Masahiko.

The guards looked at each other grimly and pushed their blades on the floor to Kazuya. Scooting the blades behind him, he kept watch on the guards and made his demands clear. The powder wasn't really as deadly as he described, but the Prince would have miserable side affects afterward. At most, he would be terribly sick the next morning.

“I demand that you make me his personal guard and employ my sister...she's working with me. You can make this happen, or I can get rid of his body in an unceremonious fashion.” Kazuya flipped the jar in his hand and forced the guards to notice it again. They mumbled amongst themselves, before finally agreeing to his demands.

They couldn't let their beloved Prince die to some scum like Kazuya. It was better to have him under watch. The Prince could always terminate his position later.

Getting up in one of the guards faces, he made a point crystal clear. “If you think about backstabbing me, or my sister, I won't hesitate to treat you even worse than your Prince. The next time, it won't have an antidote.”

Gathering up the weapons, he moved to the back room and made the announcement that he was preparing the antidote. Kazuya was actually switching the bottle with the correct one, but the guards didn't need to know that trivial detail. He brought the antidote out in a more colorful bottle and had the Prince drink the liquid.

His sister would be treated next.

Prince Mazahiko, might not be against having such skilled Shinobi, even if it was the most unconventional way of having them employed. Kazuya smirked at the Prince drooling all over his embroidered kimono.

The guards barely flinched, watching the entire thing come to an end. Turning to the guards, Kazuya folded his arms and smugly smiled.

“I just saved your Prince from an untimely death. You should be bowing.” Neither guard moved, but he knew it hit a nerve that they had to depend on someone like him.

He was enjoying this far too much.

“Don't move too fast, Prince Masahiko...or you'll get sick and black out.” He purposely left the formality out of his name. Royalty always thought they were invincible, until they came across an unsuspecting commoner. Kazuya had certainly been the least type to suspect of a crime. His restaurant had appeared the most humble and even his demeanor the trusting sort.

Kazuya had a feeling that he could teach the Prince a few lessons as his personal guard.

Masahiko's eyes stared straight ahead.

Damn it. How could I not have seen this coming? This is not very attractive. I'll probably be a mess. This is so embarrassing.

He listened to the man, Kazuya, speak.

Personal guard? Is that what he wanted? All he had to do was ask. Now my hair is a mess, my kimono is a mess. This is terrible.

Once he had been given the antidote, feeling began to drift into his extremities as only a tingling. Very slowly, he rose, picking noodles off his face with clumsy fingers. He felt dizzy and weak.

"Fine. Fine. If that is what you want, you shall be my personal guard. And your sister will be under my employ as well. Send a messenger to Lord Akiyama. I demand an audience with him." He thought he said, but it may have come out slurred and jumbled.

Cho groaned. She realized what had happened and she wasn't sure of whether to applaud her elder brother or slap him. She swallowed her pride and swiped at noodles stuck to her face. How many times did she fall for that? Fifteen? Twenty? She lost count. Cho's hand traveled to her forehead.

"You do us a great honor. Probably greater than we deserve." She mumbled something to that effect.

The Prince just grunted in agreement.

“Look on the bright side. At least you'll get a cute serving girl and a talented shinobi.” Talented, maybe, but he didn't have the intelligence of past masters. Cho would more than likely beat him senseless later and report the insanity to Izumi. With the personal guard title, he could secure his family more than a soba shop ever could.

He doubted the Prince would let him cook for him again.

“This is actually our hideout. Very few know of its location.” By few, he meant that no one knew. If they did find out, they always ended up buried and forgotten.

Prince Masahiko, would never know that it had actually been an accident. Kazuya decided to go to the grave with that information. He hadn't had an actual guest in his place for awhile, so he didn't really know what to do with the prince now.

“I suppose we should give up a place for you. My sister can show you to your room. Now that I am in charge of your welfare, you no longer need two guards to look after you.” Kazuya ushered the guards out of his soba shop and closed the door behind him. He was mentally exhausted and doubted he could give a believable explanation to anyone.

He knew that being a personal guard to a prince, would be a completely different path than a shinobi. At least he knew that he could use his skills and help his sister with employment. From the look of things, his day hadn't been so bad after all- however, he couldn't say the same for his sister or the prince. With some luck, maybe the two would form a bond and gain some sort of attraction with one another.

“We can end formalities...my name is Nabeshima Kazuya.”

Cho sighed softly. It took all of her will to not roll her eyes at her brother, but as Masahiko looked over at her, all that seemed to melt away. Cho had a high amount of attraction to Masahiko, which she didn't voice. Masahiko just bowed his head. He seemed to just agree with whatever Kazuya suggested.

"It's an honor to meet you." He said solemnly.

Cho led Masahiko to the guests quarters. She sighed. "I am going to run a bath for you, Your Highness."

With soft footsteps, she walked behind a screen, getting water ready.

Masahiko was now sitting on the floor. Cho sang, badly, trying to keep herself calm.

"Cho-chan, come and sit with me." Masahiko seemed to be warming up to Cho.

Cho knelt down on the floor in front of Masahiko, looking downward. Masahiko smiled warmly towards her. "Cho-chan, I want you to be more than some serving girl. I want you to be my scout. Do not tell your brother of this position. I don't need that idiot to be jealous." He muttered.

Cho chuckled. "I'm very honored for this privilege."

She looked upwards towards Masahiko.

Goodness. Look at those eyes. The way his cheeks dimple when he smiles.. His silky black hair.

Cho blushed and looked away. "I'll go check on your water, Masahiko-sama." She scooted away.