Osaka, Japan

Jessan Hoan was a Thai woman living in Japan. She came here from Hong Kong as a member of the Hand, but secretly, she was spying on them and Matsu’o Tsurayaba’s operation for the Clan Yashida.

Matsu’o wasn’t pleased at all with the death of Cyber. The assassin hadn’t come cheap and Matsu’o had hoped the man would be able to make short work of Mariko Yashida and her apparent bodyguard, Logan. Instead, Matsu’o was sent a package with Cyber’s head in it and a note that read “BACK OFF!”

Hoan knew Matsu’o was planning a counterstrike. He wouldn’t let that offense go unpunished and he had his methods. Historically, the Hand was an order of highly trained ninja warriors that had lasted throughout the centuries.

Today, they were a major player in the Japanese underworld and with the Clan Yashida trying to go legitimate, it had caused problems for Matsu’o’s operation. It wasn’t something he was prepared to deal with for much longer. Once Mariko Yashida was out of the way, Matsu’o could move in and absorb the operations of the Clan into the Hand.

Mariko was every bit as dangerous as her father, unfortunately. Perhaps even more so. She was not someone to be trifled with. But from what Hoan had learned, Matsu’o had other resources at his disposal to contend with Logan and Mariko, resources which he was now putting into effect.

Hoan walked at a brisk pace down the streets of Osaka. Soon, she would reach the Yashida compound and she was careful to be sure no one was following her. But as skilled at Jessan Hoan was, she was no match for her tracker.

As if like lightning, Hoan was suddenly whisked into an alley and slammed against the side of a building. The hand which held her still was delicate and there was a burning hatred in the eyes of her attacker.

“Off to inform Yashida?” asked her attacker in Japanese.

“What are you talking about? I was just going home,” said Hoan.

“Lying to your companions in the Hand is frowned upon, Jessan. I would think a woman such as yourself would know this.”

“If you’re going to kill me, just kill me quickly and get it over with,” said Hoan.

“As you wish.”

Hoan made no sound as she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. The blade burst through her back and when it was removed, she slumped to the ground. She looked up at her attacker and smiled, choosing not to give the killer the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

BOUND BY HONOR

Part II: Homeward Bound

By Dino Pollard

London, England

Kitty Pryde phased her head slightly through the wall of the office of Doctor Cecilia Reyes. She heard four sets of voices. One was Cecilia’s. The other three were her teammates—Jean Grey, Scott Summers and Hank McCoy.

“It’s not looking good, period,” said Cecilia. “There’s really nothing I can do for her and her vitals just keep slipping. We have no way of helping Kitty, not with what limited resources I have here. I just run a private practice, that’s all.”

“Unfortunately, I’m inclined to agree,” said Hank. “During our time with SHIELD, I studied a lot of their files on mutant physiology, but I’m nowhere near experienced enough to treat Kitty.”

“That means Black Air is our only option,” said Jean.

“Except we can’t reach Wisdom, and even if we could, I’m not so sure he’d help us,” said Scott.

“Maybe we should remand her to SHIELD’s custody,” said Hank.

“So they can imprison her?” asked Jean. “Or worse, experiment on her like they did Logan?”

“What’s your solution, watch her die?” asked Hank. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but we’re running out of options. We need to do something to help her and that’s certainly not going to happen here.”

Kitty closed her eyes while listening to these words. More than anything else, she wanted to scream out for them to just shut up. What’s worse is they were discussing her future without her present. That’s what she found the most insulting, being treated like a child in such a fashion.

Finally, she just walked through the wall and into the office. Cecilia, Scott and Hank all looked up in shock. Jean wouldn’t even look at Kitty, however. Kitty had a feeling that Jean sensed her presence and just chose to do nothing about it.

The young redhead stood from her seat and walked over to Kitty. She looked into the brunette’s eyes and Kitty could hear Jean’s voice in her head.

“Obviously, you know the situation. Whatever happens from this point on is all up to you.”

“Kitty… listen…” Hank began.

“Quiet Hank,” said Jean. “I’m connecting all our minds to Kitty. This is her life and whatever course of action we choose will be the result of her decision. So come on, Kitty. Tell us what you want to do.”

Kitty looked into Jean’s green eyes. Then she moved to Hank’s eyes, Cecilia’s and finally looked at Scott. She closed her own eyes and thought about her options. If she chose to go away with SHIELD, there was a chance they could save her life. They could possibly reverse the effects of Harpoon’s arrow, or at the very least halt her deterioration. But was that something she wanted?

“I want to go home.”

“Home? Home where?” asked Scott.

“To my parents’ home, in Chicago. I’m not a child, I know I’m dying and I know there’s nothing you guys can do to stop it. And I know SHIELD might be able to help me, but after what we’ve seen from them, I don’t trust them. I’d rather go home and die in peace.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” asked Cecilia.

Kitty nodded.

“I’m tired of living like this. Not being able to touch or speak—it’s like being locked away in a prison. I’d rather be dead than live with this.”

Osaka, Japan

Three Hand ninjas crept into the master bedroom of the Yashida compound. They were dressed from head to toe in red, the sacred garb of the Hand. One of them held a kunai in his hand, a small blade which resembled a gardening tool. He approached the bed and lifted it up, prepared to bring it down on the occupant.

Three razor-sharp claws tore through the blanket. They were attacked to a fist and the claws were jammed right into the ninja’s throat. The blanket was thrown off and Wolverine stood there, dressed in jeans and a tank top.

“Evenin’ boys,” he said in Japanese. “We’ve been waitin’ for you.”

The two remaining ninjas sprang towards him, each of them holding a short sword called a ninja-ken. They swung their blades simultaneously, but Wolverine blocked them both with his claws. He brought one set of claws down on a ninja’s wrist, severing it and used the other to stab the remaining ninja in the head.

The one with the severed arm slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of the stump. He looked up at Wolverine, who calmly knelt beside him, his claws retracted.

“Now, don’t you feel stupid?” asked Wolverine with a grin.

“We’re just… decoys,” said the ninja.

The smile faded from Logan’s face and he darted from the master bedroom down the hall. He looked over the edge of the railing and he could see the first floor, where the Silver Samurai was contending with several Hand ninjas as well.

“Kenuchio!” said Wolverine.

“Go to Mariko, forget about me!” said the Silver Samurai.

Wolverine wasted no more time and tried to open the door to one of the guestrooms. It was locked, and with a SNIKT, his claws popped out. He tore through the lock and pushed the door open just in time to see Mariko slumped over on the ground. She was still alive, although barely, and blood was pouring from her abdomen. Wolverine was about to move towards her, but then he picked up another scent in the room.

“Whoever you are, come on out,” said Wolverine.

Mariko’s attacker came suddenly from behind. Logan turned a moment before the attacker struck. He didn’t have a chance to really register her appearance, all he knew was that she was a woman.

Wolverine grabbed her as she came at him and flung her out the window. She gripped his arms, however, and pulled him with her. The two landed hard on the grass. Wolverine pulled himself to his feet. His adamantium skeleton ensured there would be no broken bones, but her?

He looked and saw she was already on her feet. He raised his claws and moved into a fighting stance and she did the same. She lifted her hands and spread out her fingers. Long, metal claws emerged from her fingertips and they gleamed in the moonlight.

“…what the hell are you?” asked Wolverine.

“My name is Yuriko Oyama,” she said. She leapt at him and brought her claws down in a stabbing motion. Wolverine deflected them with his own claws and fell back. He moved in, slashing towards her, but cutting nothing but air. She leapt over his head and drove her claws into his back.

He elbowed her in the face and pulled himself free of her claws. Before she could recover, he thrust his claws towards her and snagged one of her arms above the elbow. Her blood spilt out onto the grass.

He could already feel his healing factor repairing the damage she inflicted on him. She drove her foot against his head in a powerful kick that, had he not had an adamantium skull, would probably have caused a concussion.

She brought her claws down on his, but they only clanged together and sparked. She looked shocked at this and he slashed again, cutting across her abdomen. Yuriko leapt back and cringed from her wounds. Logan felt he was slightly dizzy from the attacks inflicted by her claws, but the effect quickly wore off.

“Your claws…” she said. “They’re adamantium?”

“So are yours,” said Wolverine. “Where’d you get them? Weapon X?”

“My father… developed the process,” said Yuriko.

“Shoulda known they came from Japan—all the best stuff usually does,” said Wolverine.

“You do realize that no matter what happens, Mariko Yashida is as good as dead,” said Yuriko.

“What’d you do to her?” asked Wolverine. Yuriko just smiled.

Rage boiled inside the Wolverine. He could feel the animal fighting to cut loose and the thought of losing the woman he loved allowed him to let the beast free without any consequence. He leapt at her and brought his claws down across her face, disfiguring it. Yuriko barely had a chance to defend herself at all as Wolverine’s claws tore through her flesh. Although he had a healing factor, Yuriko had no such advantage. Blood was spilling out from her wounds freely, and she fell to her knees.

“What did you do to Mariko?” he asked again.

“My claws… they’ve been coated with a toxin,” she said with a smile. “She’ll die, very painfully.”

Wolverine cried out in rage as he sliced open Yuriko’s throat. She gurgled as she choked on her own blood.

London, England

Kitty Pryde stood in the middle of the Morlock tunnels, surrounded by her teammates in the X-Men. Jean had connected all their minds together so they could all say their final goodbyes to their friend.

There was not much anyone could really say at a time like this. Although Kitty had been with them for several months, she felt she had never really been given the chance to connect with her teammates. She was thrust into their ranks at a very strange time, right before the business with the Shadow King and Weapon X. And even then, she had spent most of her time with Wolverine.

Many of her teammates offered sympathies and the words “I wish I got to know you better” were frequently brought up. She felt saddened that she herself had not made any extra effort to reach out to them. Instead, she mostly kept to herself the entire time she was with the team.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time. Maybe things would’ve been different in a different time and place. But I guess this is the way the world works, huh? I don’t have any regrets, though, and I’m glad I was part of this group.”

“Are you ready?” asked Gateway as he approached her. Kitty looked at him and nodded. Gateway opened a portal for her. “You know the drill. It’ll take you to your home.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you all doing this for me and letting me make my own choice.”

She turned to the X-Men and gave them a smile and a wave before vanishing inside it. When the portal reopened, she found herself right outside the house she grew up in, located in the suburbs of Chicago.

Kitty walked through the wall and allowed herself to rise into the air, floating into the bedroom. She saw her parents asleep in the bed. Kitty approached them and smiled as she looked at them. If she could speak, she would tell them how much she loved them and how sorry she was to have gone missing for so long.

She looked over the photographs her mother had framed on the dresser. There were a lot of them with Kitty, from when she was a little girl to her teenage years and her high school graduation and prom. Kitty smiled as she remembered all the fun times she had in this house.

Her mother stirred slightly and sat up in bed. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room but nothing was there. A look of confusion spread across her features and she nudged her husband, waking him up.

“What?” he asked.

“Did you hear something?”

“No, why?”

“I dunno… it feels like there’s someone else in here.”

“Maybe it’s a ghost,” he muttered. “Now go back to sleep.”

She lay back down and rested her head on her pillow. On her nightstand was a photograph of her daughter. It was a senior photo. She felt emotion beginning to well up and tears started to fill her eyes.

Osaka, Japan

Logan rushed back into Mariko’s bedroom to find the Silver Samurai bandaging her wound. Once Logan came in, Kenuchio approached him with a somber look on his face.

“The wound wasn’t great, but… it doesn’t look like she’s going to make it,” he said.

“I know, Yuriko poisoned her,” said Logan.

“Logan…?” said Mariko. Her voice was low and weak, barely above a whisper. With his heightened senses, though, he could hear it perfectly clear.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Kenuchio. He left the room and Logan moved towards Mariko, who was lying on the bed. He lay next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head on his chest and tangled her fingers with his own.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner,” he said. “We should get you to a hospital.”

“No, no hospital… just hold me,” said Mariko.

“Are you in pain?”

She closed her eyes and he could tell she hated admitting it. But finally, she said, “yes.”

“I wish there was somethin’ I could do.”

“There is,” she said. “Your claws. Use them.”

Logan looked down at her in shock. “You can’t be serious.”

“Logan please, I don’t want to suffer,” she said. She looked into his eyes with her own dark brown ones and Logan’s usually gruff demeanor softened. “End my pain, please. Don’t let me die like this.”

He lifted her chin and pressed his lips against her own. He broke the kiss as he placed his fist over her chest. He held her close to him as he whispered into her ear, “close your eyes.”

Logan shut his own eyes as well and sighed deeply. With a simple flex of unique muscles he possessed, his claws shot into her chest, piercing her heard. It was quick and painless for her.

He laid her lifeless body down on the bed and stepped outside of the room. Kenuchio stood in the hallway, leaning up against a wall, arms folded across his chest. At Logan’s approach, he turned to look at the man who was once his bitter rival.

“She’s gone,” said Logan.

“I thought so,” said Kenuchio. “It was only a matter of time.”

“Look, I don’t like you Harada. But Mariko trusted you, an’ her judgment carries a lot of weight with me. So you’re gonna finish what she started, okay? You’re gonna make the Clan Yashida legitimate.”

“I take it you’re not staying,” said Kenuchio.

“I don’t belong here,” said Logan. “That’s why this is up to you.”

“I understand,” said Kenuchio. “Mariko and I grew up together, I loved her like a sister. I would do anything for her.”

“Then do this.”

“I will, you have my word.”

“You better pray that’s enough,” said Logan. “Because if I find out that the Clan Yashida is involved in anything Mariko would’ve been against, I’ll be back.”

One Month Later

Matsu’o Tsurayaba sat in his office, contemplating the events of the past month. Although he had succeeded in the death of Mariko, he hadn’t counted on Harada taking up her cause. Now, things were getting even worse for the Hand, and Matsu’o knew what to expect.

“Hello, Matsu’o.”

Matsu’o turned in his chair and saw a man dressed in a mandarin-style suit. He wore a trench coat over it with his hands in his pockets. His long, black hair was tied behind his head and he had a very prominent moustache which hung below his chin slightly in the Fu Manchu style. His eyes were dark and there was no doubt about his Chinese ancestry.

“I knew you’d come,” said Matsu’o.

“I see you’ve failed again. Maybe it was a mistake to leave you in charge of the Hand.”

“I can succeed in this, I promise you that,” said Matsu’o.

“I think not. I’ve been around for over a century and I plan to have my operations continue far into the future. Unfortunately, I don’t believe you are a part of that, my friend.”

He pulled his right hand from his pocket. There was a leather glove on it and he slowly tugged it off. As he did, Matsu’o felt a sense of dread overcome him. Each finger on the hand was decorated with a ring. The man pointed to the one on his ring finger.

“Do you know what this does?” he asked.

Matsu’o shook his head.

“It’s a disintegration ray,” he said. “I first usurped control of the Hand about fifty years ago. Since then, no one has failed more than you, Matsu’o.”

He pointed his fist at Matsu’o and a beam of energy erupted from that ring. The beam struck Matsu’o and when the light diminished, there wasn’t a trace of him left.

“The Mandarin doesn’t play games.”

NEXT: Phoenix Rising