I was alone in the space where Ronin had left his mark.

He looked not a moment older than the day Ronin had first met him.

Then they went down the street, Ronin leading the way.

Two men came in and sat down at Ronin's table.

Ronin went across the room and pulled at a window door.

In stories about a ronin, it usually doesn't end well for him.

Ronin felt the pressure from the other's hand and stood his ground.

Show Ronin the truth, the way you showed it to me once.

The ronin was very big, and his hands were enormous.

Something else would be fine if it will kill Ronin.

So quickly were they covered that Ronin could not even be sure.

He turned his attention back to Ronin as if she did not exist.

Ronin thought he liked to hear the sound of it.

Names,' said the one who talked, and Ronin gave them while he wrote.

Once one of the ronin tried to protest something she was saying.

Then he figured on the lead they had over the Ronin.

Ronin pressed back against the wall again, his face going white.

During the time of "47 Ronin," the social structure had already changed.

He lived always with the shame of having once been ronin.

But no one had told them what to do if they and their charge were carried off by ronin.

Ronin forced himself to sit completely still and say nothing.

Ronin thought: So it has been a mistake after all.

Ronin looked first at the little man, because he held the torch.

The light was too dim for Ronin to be sure.

The moment Ronin saw the bands, his decision was made.