Shiro awoke in bed, a green jade statue of a bass having been placed on his chest. The statue seemed to emanate a feeling of calm, a warmth even he could feel, and he knew better than to remove it. Instead he settled back down, recalling the events that had lead up to his current state of injury. While attempting to stop the intruders he had been caught in one of Saito-sama's storms. Being undead, and not phased by human feelings of fear and panic, Shiro could perfectly recall the events. Most of his body had been crushed by a large boulder, the event managing to knock him unconscious. The very fact that his body had been rebuilt spoke of powerful magic, there were few in the Empire who were capable of such healing.

Shiro sensed him coming before he entered the room, but it was a surprise all the same. Sensing Arezawa-sama's energy, he had begun to doubt his own senses. And yet the Right Hand of the Emperor walked into his sick room, seeming to briefly check the statue as well as several charms he had hung on the walls. Then, as Shiro was still trying to wrap his head around the mage's presence, Kiyoki addressed him. Smiling coldly, he sat down by the side of Shiro's bed. "Shiro of the Kurotai (black sword), is it not? I'm sure you're well aware of who I am." Shiro could do nothing but stupidly nod in response. "Good. Now, you were found in the Gardens after the... incident, with most of your body destroyed. No doubt you were trying to apprehend the intruders, yes?"

The question suddenly returned Shiro's voice. It wasn't good for your loyalty or motivations to be in question, when you served the Emperor. Those who were suspected of treason had a tendency to disappear, either to the dungeons or on some suicide mission in enemy territory. "Yes, sir. I was attempting to assist when Saito-sama's storm damaged me." Under normal circumstances Shiro would never have dared point out the negative side effects of the notoriously destructive warrior's rampages. However under the Onmyoudo's piercing gaze he felt like withholding information would cost him far more than any insult he might cause to the Dragon Guard.

After a moment of silence Kiyoki continued, not acknowledging Shiro's reply in any way. "The people who intruded into the gardens were dangerous opponents. In order to get as far as they did they must have broken through a variety of security measures unnoticed. They supposedly survived the storm and eluded Saito as well. Even the Storm Elemental was defeated." Kiyoki spoke with both interest and annoyance in his voice, as if he were facing a particularly vexing conundrum. "Unfortunately Saito was able to describe only one member of their group to me. You will need to amend for your failure by giving me any information you possess."

Saito nodded again. So this was why the Emperor's Right Hand was speaking to him, and had rebuilt his body. Being reminded of his failure further reminded him of what the consequences would be of subsequent mistakes. Those who could not properly serve the Emperor were doomed to serve as his amusement. As such he told the mage all he had discovered, recalling with perfect detail the events that had transpired just yesterday. The frost dragon, the cowboy, the luminous mysterious figure in the sky, and the strange sea creature. He informed him of their abilities, as far as he was aware of them, and their appearances.

When Shiro was done speaking, Kiyoki smiled. But this time it was genuine, a look of satisfaction. "Good. You do the Emperor proud. You would do well to continue serving this diligently, Shiro." Shiro nodded, relieved. It had been Kiyoki that had granted the assassin his immortality, and it was Kiyoko that could with the same ease remove it, if he so wished. Kiyoki stood, and moved towards the door. Before leaving, he turned around one last time. "Had you lied during our encounter, my wards would have turned you to dust. Your honesty in this situation is appreciated." With that, the mage left.

Sighing, Shiro once more lay down. He had no need for rest, physically, but he felt like he needed to recuperate from the stress. Being in that man's presence was terrifying. With a mere word he could order the death of any man in the world, with a mere gesture he could take away the very gifts he had bestowed. Truly, Kiyoki was the Right Hand of the Emperor. The Right Hand of God himself. To know that one's life is hanging by a string, and to see the hand holding the sword that might cut it, is a terrifying thing indeed. For a moment Shiro allowed himself to feel pity for those who had caught the onmyoudo's attention. But just for a moment, as such treacherous thoughts might end him in this place. His life was the emperor's, as was his death. Nothing else mattered.