It was safe to say that once the small community they’d managed to form in this camp had ran themselves a safe distance away and noticed that the men of the camp that had taken the back end up hadn’t caught up with them yet, they would surely slow in their pace; awaiting any sign of the men. It would be possible that they’d taken care of the threat and would catch up soon, just as possible as it could be that a bigger legion of soldiers shows up and slain the men of the camp and were well on their way to alert their comrades or come after them. Either way, whichever happened, the fleeing people of the camp could and would be ready to race away once more. But for now they hesitated and watched hopefully, anxiously for the men.

Ayameko’s red-sighted rage was abruptly shaken upon the Professor’s slack demeanor. Suddenly he was happy-go-lucky; grinning and conversing with the soldiers like old friends. Wait…is that what they were?

Old friends?!

Aya’s eyes transformed to slits, narrowing at the corners and scrutinizing the movements the Professor made, and the reactions of the soldiers. There was no possible way the Professor would befriend such people, and yet to her absolute bewilderment, here he was greeting them as if he’d known them since childhood. She’d admit, the possibility of a fellow revolutionary ally being present—if it were truly him—was reassuring. But what was a soldier of the kensai doing with him?

Yoshi’s young mind couldn’t correctly process the events unfolding around him. He had readied himself so bravely to fend off the soldiers if he must, if only it meant the successful escape of his friends and just a little more time for them. He knew nothing of revolution and heroes of movements, and when he had turned to Aya and Keane for answers—all he received was more confusion. For goodness sake, Aya seemed angered at Keane and the new arrivals, and yet Keane seemed delighted at their presence. The boy didn’t know which side to turn to. Keane’s delight frightened him; who could possibly be overjoyed at the arrival of a kensai soldier? Had he gone mad? Especially since the boy was growing up in a world such as this. These things just weren’t making sense.

The glare Ayameko offered the soldiers remained on display. Taking a few guarded steps forward, Aya reached Yoshi—who was still a small distance from the three men—and stood as stone beside him. The anger welling up in her eyes did no good in response to one of the men’s words of supporting Maguro and the revolution…no kensai soldier had any business in the revolution! And Aya would make sure the man was well aware of that!

“Keane?” the young boy asked suspiciously as he stood beside Aya. His eyes bore into the man he trusted and looked up to, admired even, with a confused and disturbed wonderment. Although he couldn’t exactly decipher what was happening, he dared not ignore the feeling that something bigger than he was taking place. Questions needed to be answered, questions that remained unspoken for the time being since Yoshi was unable to put them into words. He didn’t need to feel betrayed or tricked in this moment, it’d be too much for his young balance.

If Aya were writing a book, she would’ve called the next moment ironic. For, in a moment of irony, the kensai soldier vomited and the woman—in her boiling anger—wasn’t able to hold back the abrupt and inappropriate laughter that erupted from her at the sight of such a burly, dangerous man uncontrollably and involuntarily emptying the contents of his stomach. Served him right, in her opinion. Score one for the revolution team.

Keane was about to eagerly turn and face the crowd when Mr. Kazamika happened to have his little gastric rebuttal. With an expression at once annoyed, sympathetic and amused, the professor would lightly pat the warrior on the shoulder. May have been stress, a stomach virus, whatever, but that wasn't the point at the moment. Keane would pivot around, only to be interrupted by a series of disparaging eyes. And one bout of laughter. Shaking it off, and with his face turning to a solemn expression, he would raise his hands in the air and bellow towards the crowd.

"I know that these people seem suspiscious, especially the man in the Kensai armor! However, these men are not enemies! I met one of them not too long ago in my efforts to resist Gardini's crushing grasp! And frankly, if the man in the armor even wished to hurt anyone, do you think he could in the state he's in? Look, I know I haven't been here for a very long time, but I hae pledged my life to defending this camp! And I do not take such things lightly, so I would surely not lie on this matter! It matters little what you presume of these people, for they are in truth, perhaps more dedicated to our cause than many of you here today! at least give them the chance to prove themselves!"

Putting his arms down, Keane wished he would have had more time to prepare a speech. That one sounded awfully rusty. He needed something to wrap it up, something that could drive the point home to the listeners. With a quick few seconds of thinking, he would say, soft enough that few would hear him: "Don't judge by appearance alone. You may end up just as bad as Gardini."

Now that no one was running around or screaming anymore--for lack of people in the immediate vicinity to run and scream!--Chujutsu would be able to address them loudly and calmly. If they could just hear what he had to say, they'd surely--

And then Jin vomited.

For a brief moment, Chujutsu's eyes widened in surprise--until a sense of urgency kicked in, and he moved closer to his ally. Keane had already patted him on the back, and the woman with the makeshift militia had started laughing, but that didn't put Chujutsu at ease. He set his hand between Kazamika's shoulder-blades and bent down to be at level with the hunched over Kensai.

A number of things could have been wrong with him! Sometimes, when a body wasn't accustomed to the flow of mana, being directly involved with it could sometimes poison the body--and the same applied to Chujutsu's techniques, though they didn't use mana as an energy source.

"Are you okay . . .?" The well dressed revolutionary asked with genuine concern.

Chujutsu turned his head and whispered a nearly inaudible thanks to Keane, but turned again to go back to attending to Kazamika. If his body was rejecting mana or energy transfers, then there could be some serious problems!

"I'm fine."

Jin seemed ready to straighten his posture, but when he felt Raikou's hand on his back he decided, and rightly so, to stay bent at the waist for a little while longer and collect himself. Deep breaths to help his mind cleanse the sickness, and in time he'd be able to stand without the noxious sense of vertigo that had rampaged through his systems moments ago.

The woman's laughter was insulting. Kensai did not get laughed at; they were watched with respect and awe. She jabbed at the remnants of his pride, already shattered from having to turn his back on his brothers and the man he once served, and she made it no better. The woman was presumptuous, condescending, and outright mean-spirited.

She did not sit will with Jin Kazamika.

The kensai used the sleeve of his weather-worn shirt to wipe brusquely at his mouth and make sure that nothing remained from his catharsis.

"Thank you, I'm fine." Jin bowed once to Raikou, once to Keane, and then merely looked at the boy and the woman beside him. He did not offer them rancor, Jin was careful not to push the tensions any higher than they need be. He just looked at them, then turned to the men closest to him.

"A wildly unpleasant sensation, but it's passed and I feel much better. Better than I did even an hour ago. I thank you deeply for your concern.

"My appearance must be confusing but I assure you, these are the garments of a life I left far behind me. My sword, my life, exist now only to further the revolution. Almaster poisons the lands, and only a coward would watch his home being burned to the ground and do nothing."

The Professor’s impromptu speech resulted in a brow raise from Ayameko. The disbelief that crossed her countenance in fact just about had her jaw slack. How could anyone in their right mind have befriended anyone involved with the kensai, past or present it didn’t matter, once a kensai always a kensai! The man was a natural killing machine, the carnage was in the water he drank, the food he ate; the air he breathed! The fact that the soldier had puked before them made her happy, made her feel a little better than him she had to admit.

Truth was, he probably vomited due to his guilt; good. The man deserved, at the very absolute least- guilt. If his guilty conscience got the better of his barbaric presence, it was all the better. Forget the infamous name the Professor had mentioned and the fact that he trusted the man who accompanied the kensai soldier, Aya’s mind was made.

It took only a look from the kensai that he would look upon her so, did she confront his eyes directly in return. Simply she stared at him in silence, her abrupt and unexpected outburst of laughter having long since passed. Moments would count and seem like an eternity, and she’d stare—not glare or gawk, mind you—but stare she did. This man before her, though maybe not in particular, had killed her father, had murdered him with a cold soul. Also, who was to say that he wasn’t in fact the man in specific who ended her father’s life? Allowed him to draw his last breath only to snuff out his light? These thoughts plagued the young woman’s mind, tore at her being.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t accept him.

At the kensai’s deliberation, his false concerns he expressed of home and cowardice, Aya wanted to scream at him. Rather, teeth were drawn to lip and drained to pale from their harsh pressure on the flesh. The eyes that simply stared with no rhyme or reason narrowed now with ruthless enthusiasm. Some talk he spewed from his lying lips, she thought, able to stand before them still donning the kensai garb and his weapons and claim he was for the citizens. Pfah.

**

“If you’ve truly left the life of a kensai behind, and are here now seeking the same shelter and retribution we have; then we welcome you. However, understand our cautiousness if we keep eyes on you for now.” One of the more ‘leading’ men of the camp announced once Jin had straightened himself right from his stomach uproar. The other few men standing around nodded in agreement and mumbled, glancing to one another and to the three newcomers; one not so new since having arrived a day or so ago with Ayameko.

The men of the camp would simply greet Jin and Raikou, as they had every new arrival, and then took it upon themselves to venture off after the citizens of the camp in attempt to reason with them, explain the situation, and bring them back. The camp was still in stable condition since everyone fled and no major destruction was made. They would be able to continue inhabiting their makeshift sanctuary for the time being.

**

“Ew..”

The sound the man made as he vomited, and smell after, and the cleaning process following everything made Yoshi grimace. It was quite disgusting, and Yoshi despised throwing up! The worst was when you just finished eating and your food didn’t get the chance to digest yet—never mind, yuck!

The boy’s hand wound itself insecurely into Ayameko’s. It wasn’t that he favored the woman or decided to take her side; in all honesty he preferred Keane!—but with his confusion running rampant he wasn’t clear on where to go. The woman made for a safe and stable rock, something to lean on for the moment.

But the boy trusted Keane, even if what he said sounded ridiculous and impossible. Even the men of the camp, the leaders, even they seemed to believe the new arrivals. Yoshi would waste no time getting to know these newcomers, this Jin and Raikou that had scared all the people of the camp away with their approach.

Holding steadfast to Aya’s hand, Yoshi leaned forward and away from her, closer toward Keane and Jin and Raikou and, using his free hand to brush his wild and matted hair away from his eyes, the boy pushed forth a half smile; it was a start.

“Hi, I’m Yoshi Katsurou. Welcome to our home.”

While Keane was able to reationalize a good many things, especially to himself, he had never been able to rationalize giving a reason for someone to distrust him. And in this case, no matter what course of action he took, he would give someone that reason in the end. He do one of two things. First, he could side with the interlopers and lose the trust of his new friends. This he did. Second, he could side with the villagrs and betray the trust of a truly kind and hgonest person. As well as someone who apparently was sick.

While he stewed for a second in his shame for not finding a third choice, a nagging realization cam to Keane's mind, making him jump and start inching away from the situation. With a curt wave and a nervous voice, he would say: "Well, uh... I suppose that's ettled... now if you excuse me, I have a... small lake to take care of."

With that, he would dash back to the hastily disguised reservoir on the side of twon and hope beyond hope that no one had walked over it, and thus fallen in.

It was tense, but all and all, things seemed to settle down once one of the men directly addressed Jin. Well, they made it in. That was a sigh of relief! For a moment there, Chujutsu thought they were going to be kicked out, or worse.

He watched Keane leave--quicker than Chujutsu could muster a temporary goodbye, at which he found himself a tad bit confused. Where did the professor have to go in such a hurry? Perhaps he'd find out later. For now, he briefly reflected on the experience they'd had here-- a learning experience, truly.

Chujutsu kept this learning experience in mind for future reference. If he were ever to take Jin to another possible refugee camp again, he'd have to insist that Jin wear different clothes. It would be deceiving only on the outside; if asked, neither Chujutsu nor Jin would lie about it. The effect would likely be far less drastic, though. After all, there was a huge difference between "used to be a kensai and still wear the clothes" and "used to be a kensai and no longer wear the clothes." Presentation often made a whole world of difference. As an artist, Chujutsu knew this more than anyone else.

As he thought about this, the youth that had stuck by the woman and the men ready to defend the camp called out to he and Jin. Chujutsu looked around briefly to try and find the location of the voice, only to look down in surprise--surprise which quickly turned into a smile. His wasn't a condescending smile, nor malicious, nor an innocent smile--rather, it was genuine, like Chujutsu truly appreciated the welcome.

"Thank you, Katsurou-dono," Chujutsu replied pleasantly, "My name is Raikou Chujutsu; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

He was a kind man-- not an innocent man, as an innocent man would have never taken a life before, but a man that acted out of genuine feeling. Chujutsu was a humble man, at that, and one that knew tact. He spoke to a young boy as if the child were of a higher social class than he-- the dono honorific entailed the utmost respect, and the use of it towards anyone and everyone, even women, children, and enemies alike, may well have confounded his fellows to no end, but not in a truly terrible way.

The two men were filing away the same idea at the same time. Jin wore the clothes of his past primarily for convenience's sake, but a small part of him was loathe to simply burn away the last gossamer tethers he had to a memory before all of this war nonsense. That aside, experience just finished its lesson in teaching Jin that it was not worth the hassle. He would trade his kensai garb for the rebel's attire and be done with it.

Jin watched, his eyes trailing slowly, as Keane made his way away from the troupe now that the conflict of interests had been resolved. The man was in quite a hurry, desperate to get to wherever it is that he needed to get to. Jin wondered what it was that could drive the man so quickly away from a newly added branch of the resistance. Those curious thoughts, however, would have to wait for another time.

At the moment, Jin and Raikou were being address.

They bowed in tandem and waited until Raikou spoke to say anything at all.

"Thank you Yoshi Katsurou. But you should not call this camp your home. Call this your resting spot. Call it your hideout, but not your home. Your home, like all of our homes, has been taken from you. And as surely as the sun rises, we will take it back."

Melodramatic? Maybe a little, but it strained his heart to see so young a child forced into so oppressive a situation. He wouldn't have wished this fate on any man or woman, much less on any child, and the only thing it did was fuel his body for the cause.

"Is there any place where I can rest, and perhaps drink some water? We've been walking for some time, and I've been hurt due to my own…indiscretions." He kept his eyes away from Raikou. "I just need a place to sit, where I won't be in anyone's way."