He took a few deep breaths, concentrated on slowing his breathing, getting
his heart rate back under control. He was almost afraid to touch it again,
then shook his head. He was being silly. It was a scarf, nothing more. He
picked it up off the floor, shook it out. It hung limp, barely moving on the
gentle breeze. He folded it with no more problems, put it on top of his
dresser. He put on his pajama's, turned off the light and stretched out on
his bed and tried to relax.

 He couldn't. He shifted positions uncomfortably, ended up back on his back.
It was too hot. Everywhere the fabric of his pajama's touched him prickled
and scratched. He couldn't stand it anymore, leapt to his feet and stripped
till he stood naked. Why was it so hot in here? The cool evening breeze
gusted, flowed through the window and over him and he threw back his head at
the sensuous shudder that it caused, flaming the need that was growing in
him. Was this what the other boys meant?

 The smell of jasmine and the sea grew stronger. He lifted his eyebrows as he
turned towards the dresser. The white and gold rectangle seemed to glow in
the moonlight. He crossed to it quickly, obeying some instinct that he didn't
really understand. He wanted release from this fire that burned in him and
this scarf somehow held the key. He shook it out violently, held it up before
him. It swayed gently then hung straight, now resistant to the breezes.

 "All right!" He whispered at it in a fierce hiss. "You started this, you end
it!" A part of him wondered if he was going insane, talking to a piece of
fabric like it was a sentient thing. He let go of the edges in startlement as
it came to life in his hands, wrapping itself around him lengthwise, the
breeze pushing at him gently, back toward the bed. He stepped back as the
fabric whispered against his skin like the silken touch of butterfly wings,
sending little tingles of erotic pleasure through him as he followed it's
urging until the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees.

 He sank down, lay back and closed his eyes as the scarf continued it's
roaming dance over his body. It was so easy to imagine the golden eyed woman
from this afternoon taking the place of this piece of fabric and the touch of
it changed from the cool soft whisper of fabric to the warmth of fingertips
and soft hot kisses. He groaned softly, his body arching with tension as the
sensations engulfed him, didn't know that he was hovering above the bed and
glowing with red power that could not reach beyond the translucent golden
bubble that had formed to contain the passion of a Dragon.

 Tsuzuku rode the wave of pleasure up, hung for a moment as nothing but pure
sensation, then was engulfed by the thundering red brilliance of his release.
The scarf stretched out to cover him as he settled to the bed, panting, the
tingles of his orgasm still running through him. He put one hand possessively
on the scarf, held it against his chest. That was...incredible. He smiled,
realizing that word and none of the others that popped into his head could
accurately describe what had just happened. He knew he should get up and put
his pajama's back on. Matsuri was coming in the morning to cook breakfast and
help clean the house and tended to open doors without knocking first. But he
was tired. No exhausted, he corrected himself with a wry grin, every part of
his body was loose and relaxed and resistant to his mental commands to move.
He'd just rest for a few minutes, then get up.


*************


 On the other side of Tokyo in an upstairs bedroom of the Japan Chapter house
of The Order of Solomon's Seal Jasmine sat bolt upright, breathing hard and
blushing. She took a few shuddering breaths, blinked into the softly moonlit
room and hoped she hadn't woken any of the other 'sensitive' members sleeping
there tonight. She had had erotic dreams before, but nothing like this! It
had been so real and full of Tsuzuku Ryudo. She drew her knees up, wrapped
her arms around her legs, holding the position by clasping one hand around
the other wrist and rested her forehead on her knees, worked on slowing her
breathing and heart rate.

 She knew Elenora had come in from the adjoining bedroom, didn't look up as
the bed moved slightly as the girl jumped up to sit by her sister.

 "You smell like sex." The twelve year old said frankly.

 "I know." Jasmine whispered back.

 "I told you you should have gone and gotten it back as soon as we found out
who they were." Elenora sighed.

 "I know. I just didn't think that this would happen. I'm not even sure what
happened! I hope I didn't wake anyone." Jasmine sounded so unsure of herself,
a rarity in her sister.

 "I don't think so." Elenora reassured her as she leaned against Jasmine,
wrapped an arm around her waist in a loose hug. "If you had, they'd be
knocking by now, I think."

 Jasmine nodded, gave her a little smile. "You're right, as normal."

 Elenora snorted with a self-righteous grin. "Nice of you to admit it. But
still, maybe we should turn on the TV and see if there have been any reports
of a Fire Dragon running amok."

 "That's not funny, Elenora." Jasmine responded with a worried scowl.

 "I know. I'm sorry, Jasmine. Uh-oh." She said as the soft knock came on the
door.

 "Come in." Jasmine called softly.

 Shubata opened the door with one hand, his diminutive frame wrapped in a
simple kimono as he balanced a tray on the other, switched on the overhead as
he came in.

 "Well, well. That was...interesting, Jasmine." He said with a gentle grin as
he brought the tray with teapot and cups to the bed. "And no, there are no
reports of a Red Dragon running rampant." He  sat on the bed by her feet,
smoothed the blanket down so the tray would stay steady and began to pour
them tea. "Though the observer on the Ryudo house called in scared out of his
wits. Seems like there was a sustained visual coming from Ryudo Tsuzuku's
bedroom window, but it never manifested. We were lucky, Jasmine."

 "I'm sorry, Sensei! I didn't know this would happen! It just seemed the
right thing to do! It wanted to go with him!" Jasmine wavered on the edge of
tears which frightened Elenora. Whatever had happened had affected her more
than any of them suspected. Jasmine hadn't truly cried since their parents
had died eight years ago.

 "There, there, Jasmine-chan." The old man soothed and patted her hand, took
it into his own and pressed a warm cup into it. "Drink. It will help settle
your nerves. It is as much my fault. I should have known that if I let two
such powerful dragons meet, sparks would fly." His eye's sparkled with
internal humor.

 Jasmine smiled tentatively back as she blew over the surface of the tea,
then sipped at it.

 "So, tomorrow, you go and get it back. I don't want anything linking either
of you to them, especially since Tamanji and her crew have arrived." He told
them with a frown.

 "Tamanji's here?" Elenora squeaked.

 "Yes, she's here." Shubata nodded solemnly.

 "Why?" Jasmine demanded, her mood shifting to deadly seriousness.

 "I don't know yet and that is causing me some anxiety. They've managed to
totally elude the Observers set on them again. You know we lost track of them
three months ago. It was just through sheer luck, if you believe in such
things, that they where spotted downtown. They are either here because you
are here, or because they too have heard the reports of dragons. Either
option is not good and we'll all have to be on our guard."

 "I'll go get it right now." Jasmine started to uncurl, stopped when Shubata
put a restraining hand on her arm.

 "It will wait until morning, Jasmine. You are tired and need to sleep." He
mentally re-enforced the effects of the herbal tea, caught the cup as it slid
from her nerveless fingers and he lowered her back onto the pillows gently,
all ready asleep as Elenora watched in shock.

 "What did you do!?" Elenora growled at him, the dark violet aura of her
power starting to form around her.

 Shubata sat up slowly, regarded the young dragon calmly. "There are many
herbs that work on the Children of Dragons, young lady. You should make a
study of them. Your sister is exhausted, more than she realizes and needs to
have all her powers and wits about her if she is to deal with the Dragon
brothers or Tamanji. She is asleep, nothing more. Which is what you need to
be also. Would you care for a cup of tea?" He finished with a quizzical
smile.

 Elenora's aura vanished as she shook her head wide-eyed, no.

 "Then off with you! This old man wants to grab a few more hours also." He
made a graceful motion with his hand towards the little bedroom off of the
main one.

 Elenora hopped off the bed, gave him a suspicious glare. Shubata could feel
her 'look' at him with her power. She nodded, seemingly satisfied with
whatever she saw, gave him a formal bow, then yawned, all of the sudden
nothing more than a sleepy twelve year old girl.

 "Good-night, Sensei." She muttered, heavy eyed as she wandered back to her
bed. "Oh, I would like to see those books on dragon affecting herbs, too."

 "I'll have them sent to your room tomorrow." Shubata smiled at her
retreating form. He tucked the light blanket in around Jasmine, then gathered
the tray, walked silently to Elenora's door, peeked in. She was already
taking the deep breaths of sleep. How he envied the young. He knew he would
get no more rest this night.

 That Jasmine would give Ryudo Tsuzuku that damned scarf had been totally
unexpected. What had she been thinking, to do such a thing? But then again,
it might not have been her choice. He had taken the most of this opportunity
to study it and had asked two of the most powerful psychics in his
jurisdiction to 'read' that innocuous piece of fabric. It had knocked one out
and left the other in shock.

 He had read the faxed notes Catherine had sent, but it didn't hold anything
he didn't already know. It was an heirloom of the Tanaka Family and a
precious relic in it's own right, the Order being able to trace it back
almost two thousand years. They suspected it was even older. That it held
some sentience was beyond doubt and all of it's Dragon's had treated it like
a living entity. None of the Elders could decide if it was a psychic
manifestation or a magical thing. Catherine herself believed it a combination
of both. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it was in the hands of
the Ryudo Dragons and that put the lives of 'their' Dragon's in jeopardy.

 When that freak accident had orphaned Jasmine, Tamanji and Elenora at
eleven, nine and four the Order had broken it's rules for the third time in
it's thousand year history and interfered in the affairs of a Family it
Observed. Catherine had taken them under her wing, raised them and taught
them to use the powers of their unique heritage. Powers that vastly benefited
the Order also. Unfortunately, they had lost Tamanji along the way. That one
could only see the darker side of her soul and the wealth, pleasure and power
her talents could bring accompanied by an unreasoning hatred for the Order
and her eldest sister.

 He shook himself slightly, roused himself from his reverie. "Good-night,
Little Dragon." He whispered with a fond smile, then his face turned serious
and he went to tend to business.


************

 It was just past two in the morning when Hajime got home, his soft leather
briefcase bulging with papers. He really had to dip into their meager savings
and buy them a good computer. It would have been so much easier to just make
copies of the disks instead of waiting forever for the print-outs. He slid
out of his shoes, wandered through the darkened house to drop the briefcase
on his desk then took the stairs two at a time.

 He made his rounds, peeking in at Amaru, then Owaru, then headed for
Tsuzuku. He knew that Tsuzuku would be embarrassed if he knew his eldest
brother still checked on him at night, but it had become a habit from younger
days when Tsuzuku had suffered from nightmares after their parents had died
on a holiday trip in that earthquake.

 Many people had come to the funeral and had told him and Grandfather that
his father had literally held up the ceiling of the hotel, giving so many of
them the chance to escape. Mother had helped carry the wounded out, thrown a
little girl out of a third story window to her mother just as the building
gave totally away and buried both Father and Mother in tons and tons of
rubble. It had taken the clean up crew a week to reach their bodies.

 He leaned to glance around the door, straightened and started to close it,
froze as his brain caught up with what his eyes thought they had seen. He
could have sworn he saw a small golden dragon stretched out over his brothers
naked form, it's nose resting against the hollow of his shoulder and it's
tail wrapped around and down one of his legs.

 He opened the door enough to step through quickly, pushed it shut, his body
taunt as he prepared to met whatever threat might be lurking. One part of his
brain tried to identify the faint musky smell that hung in the room as he
relaxed a little with a perplexed smile. What he had thought was a dragon was
nothing more than a sheer fabric scarf with a dragon's image on it. But why
was it draped over his brother like that and why was Tsuzuku naked? He never
went to sleep nude. None of them did because none of them knew for certain
when Matsuri would decide to pay them an unscheduled early morning visit.

 His unease grew as he moved silently to his brothers bed, his vision
shifting slightly as it had started to do of late. The thing glowed with
power. He reached down and closed his hand around one end, pulled gently, his
intention to ease it off his brother for a closer look. Tsuzuku frowned in
his sleep, hugged it back to his chest with both arms as it rose, rolled to
his side away from him, taking the end from his grasp.

 That decided him. He was getting it away from his brother now, whether he
woke him or not. He went around the bed, leaned down and took a firm hold of
the side of the fabric in both hands and pulled. Tsuzuku opened his eyes.
Hajime stared in shock as they glowed solid with white power. Tsuzuku kept
the scarf pressed to his chest with one hand, reached out with the other to
touch Hajime on the center of his chest with his fingertips. The small surge
of power sent him reeling backwards.

 "Tsuzuku!" He whispered in shock as he rubbed at his chest. Tsuzuku closed
his eyes, rolled to his other side, the top of the scarf with the dragon's
head shifting as he moved so that it hung down across his back and seemed to
regard Hajime with a it's dark gold eyes.

 *What is that thing and where did he get it?* He narrowed his eyes back at
it, his unease turning into fear. Whatever it was, it was effecting his
brother dangerously. Then his brain clicked in with the awareness of where he
had smelled that vaguely familiar musk. He had been seven when he'd walked in
late one night on his parents making love, frightened by a dream of dragons.
This same smell had permeated their room and nine months later Owaru had been
born.

 His eyes widened in surprise. He went back around the bed, switched on the
lamp on the night stand to it's lowest setting. "Tsuzuku!" He called softly.
"Tsuzuku-kun, wake up!" He touched his brother's shoulder cautiously,
avoiding the fabric of the scarf, ready to leap back if Tsuzuku should strike
out again. His brother's skin was reassuringly cool under his fingers. He
held his breath, waiting. It seemed as long as he didn't touch the scarf, his
brother wouldn't react. "Tsuzuku-kun, wake up!" He said a little firmer and
gave him a little shake.

 Tsuzuku blinked sleepily at him. "Hajime?" Then he sat up quickly, his
stomach fluttering at the alarm he saw in his brothers face, the scarf
sliding down to pool in his lap. "What? What's wrong?"

 "Are you all right?" Hajime kept his voice calm and even as he moved to sit
at the foot of his brother's bed.

 Tsuzuku gazed at him, his brow wrinkling in incomprehension, then he looked
down at his naked self and blushed, reached out to pull the sheet up to his
waist over the scarf. "Yes. I'm fine."

 "What happened, Tsuzuku-kun?" Hajime asked, all of his senses tuned to their
limits, trying to detect just what kind of hold that scarf had on his
brother.

 "It was nothing, Hajime-kun." He smiled gently and shrugged.

 Hajime folded his arms across his chest, shifted his weight back, his
expression full of questioning disbelief.

 "I had an interesting dream, nothing more." It had to have been a dream.

 "Share it with me." His brother asked.

 Tsuzuku paused for a moment, tried to find a graceful way to explain what
had happened. "It was personal, Hajime."

 Tsuzuku wondered at the little flicker of alarm he saw flash across his
brothers face, but it was quickly hidden by a knowing smile.

 "Ah, I understand." But he didn't, not really. From everything Grandfather
had told him and his own experience, what had happened to Tsuzuku wasn't
possible, yet.

 "Tell me about the scarf, Tsuzuku." Hajime demanded in a quiet tone. He
needed to know what was happening if he had any hope of keeping them all
safe.

 Tsuzuku raised his eyebrows but obediently answered the question as he
pulled the scarf out from under the sheet. "A young woman I met at the school
today gave it to me." He shook it out, down towards his brother. The perfume
of it rose up just as strong as it had been this afternoon.

 Hajime took the end and straightened the image. Now that he could see it in
the light, he could tell it was a masterpiece of work. "A woman you didn't
know just gave this to you?" His voice was full of suspicion.

 "Hajime-kun, women I don't know give me things all the time." He reminded
his brother with a wry smile. He normally just gave them right back, like he
had tried to do with the scarf.

 "Women give you flowers or candy or love notes or trinkets. Not a
masterpiece like this. It should be in a museum." His brother answered back,
reaching out cautiously to touch the golden embroidery like he expected it to
shock him. "Who was it, do you know?"

 "Not really. She was with a tour group. Her name was Jasmine. I think she
was American." Then what Hajime was suggesting came together in Tsuzuku's
mind. "You think she was an agent of the Sisters? But...it's just a scarf,
Hajime! What harm can it do?"