"Don't tell me it's time to get up,"she groaned,not even bothering to open her eyes.All she wanted to do was keep on sleeping.Her mind felt fuzzy with it,as if she was semi-conscious at best.

"Sorry darlin',"Logan said,sounding tired himself."But we gotta go out in the real world or somethin'."He pressed up against her,and she leaned back into his warm,solid body,sliding her arm over his.

"Damn it,"she grumbled,wanting nothing more than to put a pillow over her head and hide from the daylight.The family wouldn't fall apart if she wasn't around for one day,would it?

Well,maybe not.But there'd be no family left if Logan missed a day.Shit.

She let her fingertips slide gently over the back of his hands,over knuckles and down to his fingers,once again marveling at how soft his skin was,especially for a man.And it wasn't like there was much else on Logan that was soft;he might as well be carved from marble just like the statue she once compared him to.It took her a long time to figure it out,and when she finally did,she felt like a complete idiot-his skin was soft because it was new.It was always new.It wouldn't allow him to form calluses,nonetheless scars.He didn't shed dead skin cells either,because he never had any:even his skin didn't die.It was constantly replenishing itself,repairing itself,but without stray surface cells dying off.She didn't know how that could be,but it was.And if she thought about it too hard,it did give her a minor case of the creeps.

But she also realized somewhere inside him might be the key to human immortality,or something very close to it.She hoped no one ever figured that out,because she shuddered to think what people would do to him if they did.

It was funny,in a bleak sort of way,her worrying about him.No one could take care of themselves as well as Logan could.But he did hurt,as he said,and she could still remember him coming back from that failed assassination attempt on Ryan last month.Ryan wasn't hurt,and supposedly Logan wasn't either,but behind closed doors he peeled off a shirt sodden with blood,and several metal objects fell to the floor-bullets.He'd been shot five times and admitted he barely remained conscious.He looked pale and as weak as Logan could look,even though the wounds had healed over already.He said he needed a bit of time before his blood replenished itself but he'd be all right,then sat down with a glass of whiskey ("Fluid levels.") and promptly fell or possibly collapsed into a sleep that looked like death.He even had an explanation for that:"Sometimes,when whatever controls the healing process needs a kick start,I just sort of shut down.It's like death,I suppose,but it's not.I always wake up."He then gave her that smirk of his,the one he always gave before he said or did something he knew was wrong,and said,"A coward dies a thousand times,a brave man only once."

She stared at him in disbelief."You're no coward,Logan."

He shrugged,that smirk that she sometimes wanted to rip off with her fingernails still on his face."Maybe I was in a past life;maybe this is payback.I hear karma's a real bitch."

She didn't find that funny,and somehow doubted he did too.

He continued to nuzzle the back of her neck,which she really liked,and she wasn't sure if she could credit his mutant super senses for him knowing that,or simply his ability to be observant.He was a very passionate man,which was fun, although occasionally tiring.And she couldn't believe that the family hadn't figured it out that they had had a more than business relationship for over a year now.

Well,to be fair,they kept it under wraps.Around the family,and during 'working time',they were all business,as she knew the family would go absolutely ballistic if they knew she had a gaijin lover,nonetheless Logan.If anyone ever paid much attention,maybe they'd notice that sometimes the looks they exchanged were a bit more than friendly,or sometimes,leaving a room,his fingertips would very gently brush hers,and it was all she could do not to shiver.

Perhaps the fact that it was clandestine made it more exciting.

But she loved him rather hopelessly,and the worst part was she knew she shouldn't.She knew there could only be trouble in a relationship like this-look how "Romeo and Juliet" ended-but logic and emotions rarely got along.She knew he loved her too;he didn't even need to say it.He let her into his life-that was proof enough.

And what a sad and troubled life it had been.He left huge gaps,and he didn't say how old he was,but he did admit Akira Kajahara had taken him under his wing,not his father or grandfather.He didn't specify,he just said he ended up in Japan "sorta by accident",and was "half out" of his mind when Kajahara found him and saved him from himself.Kajahara felt Logan had the potential to be a great samurai,the best that had ever been,but he himself was not sure he ever lived up to the "old man's" expectations (he referred to Kajahara fondly,and she suspected he had become a father figure for him).He claimed to have no memories of his real parents,or when he was born,month or day.In fact,he frowned deeply when she asked,and looked almost indescribably sad."If I try to think of my parents," he admitted reluctantly."I just get a sense...of fear,pain...death.I think something awful happened to them,Riko,and I think it's my fault somehow."He then tried to smile,and failed."I told you I was poison."

He still held many secrets,and she knew he'd tell them to her in his own time.He wasn't used to letting people in. Keeping them at arm's length was for their own protection as well as his own,or at least that's what Logan seemed to believe at any rate.But he was starting to thaw,at least for her,and that felt good.

She had spent enough nights at the guest house talking to Logan,playing chess,and debating books before they became lovers that no one thought it was funny that she continued this behavior.They might have if they knew she snuck out almost every night,and snuck back to the house early in the morning (or,conversely,waited for him to leave and get in the house before she left-he provided cover,in a way),but honestly,as long as she was available for ideas and solutions they'd never give her credit for,the family didn't care much what she did,as long as it didn't 'shame' them in some way.Of course,being with Logan was 'shameful',in their limited definition of it,but fuck them.For one time in her life she could honestly say she was happy,and she didn't care if they liked it or not.

"Why don't you go,"she murmured,settling her head deep into her pillow."I'll get there after you."

He continued to nuzzle her neck,gently moving aside her now shoulder length hair,and asked quietly,"Do you ever get tired of sneaking around?"

"All the time.But what can we do?You know what would happen if we came out about it.You're fired on the spot, and I wake up in a monastery somewhere in Tibet."

"Marry me.That way,when we throw it in their face,it's all nice and legal.And 'honorable'."

"Are you serious?"She replied,then opened her eyes and did her best to look at him over her shoulder in the grey half light of early morning."Are you actually proposing to me in bed?"

He shrugged."We spend most of our time here."

"True."She rested her head back down on the pillow,and considered it,biting her lower lip to stifle the sudden urge to giggle.Why did she want to laugh?

Because it seemed funny.Because her father and Ryan and Uncle Hachiro would absolutely hit the roof,and it would serve them goddamn right.Because she loved Logan enough to risk it.

"Do you love me?"She asked.

"Forever,"he replied,without hesitation.

From someone else,she would have dismissed it as a man simply telling a woman what she wanted to hear.But Logan,while a man of secrets,was not one of artifice:he generally told people what they didn't want to hear.

She entwined her fingers in his,and said,"Let's do it.Yes,Logan,I will marry you."

It was possible some major shit would hit the fan because she married a foreigner,but she really didn't care.It wasn't like they knew she was marrying a mutant.

If they ever found out he was a mutant,they'd probably kill them both.

**

It was early enough in the morning that the streets and sidewalks were as quiet as they'd ever get-the morning commute didn't begin in earnest for at least another hour-and almost all the neon was off,save for a few stragglers, the most obnoxious of which was a large red neon Coca-Cola sign that took up half a building,the red wave constantly surging and ebbing in a way that would make you seasick if you watched it too long,throwing blood red shadows on half the block.In the soft blue light of a new day,it seemed obscene.

Bettenchi did not go for those type of garish electronic displays,but it didn't have to;the pyramid of small televisions in the front display window,all dark for once but usually showing cartoons,was enough to bring customers in,if the life sized cardboard cut out of some anime girl with round,fist size eyes,impossibly long legs,and a skirt so short it was more of a suggestion of cloth than an actual piece of clothing,didn't bring in the prurient.

It was a manga shop,selling comics and videos mostly to adults;sure there was stuff for the kids,but in less than an hour the shop would be open and it would be enjoying one of its peak times-when businessmen on their way to or from the subway would stop in to buy one of the many hard core pornographic comic novels that made up at least half of Bettenchi's stock.Nothing like reading a little cartoon rape/snuff on the train.

Dayu had missed that cultural boat.He didn't understand why you would look at porno cartoons when the live action stuff was so much better.Perhaps that was his Western education showing,the 'cultural pollution' that his father had worried could make him 'soft'.Soft his ass.He couldn't wait until he had an opportunity to show him how 'soft' he was.

Since the store was not yet open,Dayu had to knock on the glass front door.Looking over the 'Closed' sign,he could see moment in the aisles made up of display racks of comics and videos,and heard vaguely,through the muffling layers of glass,"We're closed.Come back in thirty-"

The young,bespeckled man at the end of the aisle stopped as soon as he saw who was standing outside the door.He frowned sourly,and with great reluctance came to the door to let him in.

The young man was Kenji 'Ken' Asari,Japanese by birth (but only half by blood) yet raised alternately in France and England by well off parents,so he spoke Japanese with a sometimes comical accent that was half-European and half-Cockney.He was an astute businessman who also owned manga shops in Osaka and Kyoto,and was very close to becoming a millionaire,thanks mainly to savvy investing.But he was also,on the side,something called a 'Watcher', and reported back to some secret council in England about demon activity in Japan.He also occasionally slew demons,but where he found the time was a bit of a poser,at least to Dayu.

He was very reluctantly working for them,and Dayu didn't completely trust him.His father was blackmailing him over the fact that his sister,Keiko,was a vampire.Kenji could have killed her but didn't,and she promised to leave Japan and never bother him in any way again.If the Council discovered this he would be kicked out,because a vampire was a vampire,former family or not,but Kenji had a weak spot for his younger sister and refused to kill her again.He never even informed the Council that she had become a vampire.

Which was good news for them,as it made him easy to manipulate,since he still wanted to be a Watcher.But why?It wasn't like they paid him or anything.

Asari held the door open for him as Dayu came in,then closed and locked the door behind him."You people never give up,do you?"He sighed,speaking English with a slightly upper crust British accent.

"We only want information,"Dayu pointed out."I thought you Watchers liked watching."

Asari gave him a dirty look as he walked past him,back down to the aisle where he was stocking new comics in a display rack.Asari looked very young,his face round and with a Western sort of softness around the eyes,but he was actually in his mid thirties,and far more sophisticated than his scruffy jeans,sweatshirt,and tennis shoe clad appearance would indicate."Not people,no."

"So he's a person,is he?"Dayu walked down the aisle,slowly following him,but Asari seemed to pay no mind to him at all.He simply knelt down beside the rack and started loading in books,pulling them out from a cardboard box on the floor beside him.

"As far as I can tell,yes.He doesn't appear to be any type of demon I'm familiar with.He may be a half-breed,or perhaps a mutant."He was filling up a rack with brightly colored books showing women in tight suits and extraordinary cleavage shooting lasers at big,slobbering tentacled things.So a scifi manga as opposed to a snuff one.

"A what?"

"A mutant human,one with a strange variable in his DNA.I believe some American scientists refer to it as an X factor.I know the official position of the Japanese establishment is mutants don't exist,and if they do it's only in backward parts of the world where one would expect these sort of things to happen,but it's a worldwide phenomenon,and it appears to be growing exponentially."He straightened his black plastic framed glasses on his face as he looked up at him,warming to the topic."The Council has two prevalent theories on why.The first is it's an unexpected byproduct of the industrial revolution,with the increase of mutagenic compounds in the environment,or possibly a natural,selective response to the increase in the demon population.Humans evolve to take on demons in their own terms.I must admit that theory fascinates me-"

"I could really give a fuck,"Dayu snapped impatiently.He didn't come here for a lame brained lecture from a snobbish smut purveyor.Asari scowled at him,possibly for saying a bad word.So he was a hypocrite too?"How is he a mutant exactly?"

Asari shrugged as he turned back to his stacking,but it was a shrug that seemed dismissive more than anything else."I suppose you've witnessed it yourself.He seems to be almost indestructible,at least by bullets and blunt trauma."

"If it breathes it can die."

That seemed to make Asari's spine stiffen."Not always.And even things that don't breathe can still die."

Dayu really didn't care."What,you didn't find any medical records on him or anything?"

He went back to stocking comics,his shoulders slumping slightly as he relaxed."As a matter of fact,Mr. Takabe,I found no records on him at all,even using Council resources.Mr. Logan technically does not exist,nor has he ever existed.He is a cipher."

"How is that possible?He does exist.There has to be at least a birth certificate,something-"

"I assure you,there is nothing,"he interrupted impatiently."Even if the Logan name is a pseudonym-which I believe may be the case-there is no one matching his description anywhere.It's quite possible he's lived his entire life underground,trying to avoid the stigma that the mutant label often brings with it.It is also equally possible that he is much older than he appears to be,or can alter his appearance to some degree.Without knowing the specifics of his mutation I can't say for sure."

"How can you learn the specifics of his mutation?"

"Ask him,but I don't think he'd tell me.I think the blackmail has come to an end,Mr. Takabe.I don't see how I could be of further use to you."

Dayu frowned down at the back of his head,and was seized with the sudden urge to kick him,but there was no point, was there?He pulled his handgun out of his coat pocket,the silencer already attached.

Asari looked up,and he looked disappointed more than surprised."Ah,I thought it might end this way."

Only then did Dayu realize that Asari was reaching into the box with his right hand,and he bet he wasn't going for another comic book.

He pulled the trigger just as Asari whipped out his own gun.The top of the Watcher's head seemed to explode, fragments of brain and bone splattering all over the display racks as he fell backwards,crushing the box beneath his spasmodically twitching body,the gun falling limply from his hand.

If only Logan was this easy to kill.

The men-all Japanese,all muscular in that steroided,weight lifter sort of way;muscles that had little or no connection to the real world-seemed to freeze momentarily,then shared confused looks."Who's the leader of your little group?" Bob asked,sauntering casually towards the elevator.Logan retracted his claws and followed,partially out of curiosity. He knew what Bob could do,yet it was always a bit stunning to see it in action.He seemed to do nothing, and yet everything changed;it was like reality tilted slightly to the left whenever Bob was around.

"I am,"the man in the middle said.He was the biggest of the gunmen by six inches,and while they all wore white Arrow shirts and dark ties with matching sport coats,the leader wore a black tie and a dark blue jacket,as if he figured 'close enough'.

"Your name is..?"

"Gary."

"Okay,Gary,who's the big boss man?"

"Mister Takabe."

"Is he here?"

"No."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know.I wasn't informed."

"Shit,"Logan muttered under his breath.They would probably go on to Malibu,but they had no guarantee he'd be there either.

"Takabe has a young woman working for him,half Japanese,possibly a mutant.Do you know her name?"Bob continued smoothly,as if he was having a friendly conversation with this man,and not an extremely one sided one with a man who was locked in the grip of a psychic full Nelson.

"Emma Nagal,but he usually calls her 'Hellion'."

"I guess 'Arsonia' was too gauche,"Helga commented wryly."And...oh,what's the name of that bug that farts fire?"

Logan tried not to,but he couldn't help laughing.Even Bob cracked a smile.

"You don't know where she is,do you?"Bob wondered.

Gary shook his head."I never know where she is,unless she's here.She comes and goes as she pleases."

"Yeah,I bet she does,"Helga said."Nobody likes sittin' around with a stick of dynamite that can go off at any time."

"All right.You know what Gary?This never happened.You and your boys are going to go upstairs,drink,play cards, and make several prank phone calls to the police.You will not be surprised when they show up,and you will offer no resistance.Go on."

Gary lowered his weapon so he could reach over and hit the right elevator button,and the doors began to slowly close,
taking the men back upstairs.

"You really are evil,you know that?"Helga told Bob,giving him a pat on the back.

"Can't help it,"he replied."Demon,you know?"

"So,Malibu?"Logan prompted,as Helga slid her arm around Bob's shoulders,and snaked her tail around his waist. For some reason their displays of affection made him feel not only uncomfortable but wistful.No one ever loved him quite like that.

(Yes,someone had.)

And that thought,unwelcome and strangely transient,made him feel even worse.Both sick and furious at the same time.

Bob shrugged expansively with his hands."Why the fuck not?The beach is pretty at this time of day anyways.I'll call the cops myself,see if they can dig up some records on Emma Nagal."

"You know somebody on the force?"Logan asked,leading the way out the doors.

He looked back over his shoulder,and Bob gave him a broad,shit eating grin."No,not at all."

Logan realized,in retrospect,he probably should have guessed.

***

Tokyo-1980

It led Logan inside some faux pagoda looking place that called itself  'Tora Tora!',and Logan wished he were actually Japanese so he could be really offended.

Tiny pagoda shaped multicolored lights framed the doorway as he walked into the loud bar/nightclub,separated by rice paper screens into two different areas:a 'family friendly' part with disco pop music and bad karaoke,and an 'American' bar where Yankees could get plastered in  an atmosphere that reminded them of a drive-in restaurant.At least on the alcoholic's side,someone was disgusting the rest of the patrons by playing "Whole Lotta Rosie" on the jukebox.

Even in the miasma of cigarette smoke,cheap beer,and bad aftershave,he caught the scent.

He looked around,and caught the eye of an elegantly dressed brunette sitting on a stool at the end of the leather padded bar.She looked like a middle aged divorcee,small wrinkles in the corner of her deep brown eyes that gave her a seasoned but not old look,wearing a trim,short blue and white jacket and skirt set that showed off shapely legs and made her look like a flight attendant.She gave him a silky,seductive smile,and then got up and walked back into the shadows of the bar,swinging her hips more than necessary.

That sneaky bitch.

She had taken a table in the most shadowed part of the bar,lit with an occasional multicolored echo from the tacky pagoda lights,and by the time he got there she had changed her appearance to a perfectly kitsch version of a geisha girl,complete with white pancake make up and tiny cupid's bow red lips,black chopsticks holding her long ebony hair up in a traditional knot,while she wore a high necked,Mandarian collar silk dress in the brightest turquoise imaginable.

"The dress is all wrong,"he told her,taking the chair across from her at the small table and sitting down."It's Chinese."

"Oh,fuck it,Logan,it's Asian,"she replied."Do you think these redneck fuckwads would know the difference?"

He sat back in the rickety wooden chair and sighed,shaking his head."You were always very classy,Raven."

"I told you not to call me that,Wolverine,"she hissed,her appearance instantly changing.It was like a wave rolled over her body,starting from the top of her head and quickly moving down.The geisha girl quickly melted into teenaged blonde jailbait,a California girl in a tight red half shirt that just barely restrained her extreme full breasts and exposed a flat belly,and she flipped her long,straight milk blonde hair over her shoulder."Be nice to me,or like maybe I'll scream rape."

He scoffed,crossing his arms over his chest."Man,have things gotten that bad for you,Raven?Are you that frightened of me?"