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400 Years Apart	By : Cynthermes Category: +M to R > Mirage of Blaze Views: 4238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mirage of Blaze and its characters solely belong to Kuwabara Mizuna. I’m just going to creep into a corner of her sand box and play the part of a wannabe historical writer. No profit has been made in the construction of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Eleven:

Three Parts Triangle: Part 3

A/N: It was Ume Matsuri but instead of celebrating at the heart of Odawara Saburo sulks on the shores of Sagami Bay not knowing that danger lurks nearby.

>> This is the last part of my Mini Arc.

Warning: This chapter contains mature themes, violence, and political intrigues that can induce neurosis so if you want to keep your sanity please don’t read. But for those Naoe-types who have a penchant for mind games please ENJOY!

***

He was alone.

No one would come for him.

No one…

“Saburo-sama, what brings you here?”

“You’re by yourself. Where is your loyal protector?” Takahide who spoke first and his younger brother, Katsuhide who seconded were the last men he expected to see. And unlike him, they have company. The Matsuda twins were joined by a dozen bushi. Some of them he recognized as lower-ranked retainers of his family. They emerged from the nearby rock formations and seem to be hiding there for some time. Leering faces, slight drunken gaits, and with a look in their eyes he was learning to be accustomed invites nothing but trouble.

“I should ask you the very same question.” Saburo unsheathes the first tanto while they circle him without drawing their blades. These arrogant bastards! They dare mock him like this!

“Be careful with the dagger Young Master. Put it away before you could hurt yourself.” Takahide cajoles with a sick mimicry of Kotarou. He boldly approaches and attempts to take the dagger forcefully by hand.

Saburo teaches him a lesson and sharply swings the tanto missing his fingers by a hair’s span but gets him nicely on the palm. Blood gushes out of the flesh wound making Takahide cry out in pain. “You damn brat! Using that dagger like a freaking woman defending her virtue about to be lost! Ha!” Apparently the lesson doesn’t sink into his brain and he tries again. He tackles Saburo like a deranged bear.

The lordling sidesteps, kicks him hard on the gut making him double over and using the sheath lands another blow to the head. Takahide was down by the second and for his trouble some of his companions laugh at him instead. “Beaten by your ‘woman’ way to go, Takahide!” They jeered.

Katsuhide however was not very amused. He helps his brother up and with a determined expression draws his long sword.

Now in clear danger, Saburo assumes a true fighting stance. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This?” Katsuhide laughs. “This is a testament of your ignorance, Young Master.” His contempt doesn’t even rival that of his elder brother’s.

As if that was the cue they have always waited for, all thirteen men unsheathe their blades. Saburo takes a deep breath; fourteen katanas versus one tanto, he was more than outnumbered.

“You do not know how long we have prayed for this moment to come! Using you, to finally exact revenge against your beast of a brother!” Takahide shouts like a battle cry and together with his younger twin, attack Saburo at the same time.

What?

These men only have hatred for his brother.

What have I to do with all these? Saburo parries Takahide’s blade almost effortlessly. He was only a man filled with arrogance and little skill. His forceful, unrefined strength could be used against him. So when he lunges a second, a third, and a fourth time, Saburo slides his dagger smoothly along the edge of the long sword and waits for the uncontrolled brute force his foe shall muster before turning the tables on him: stabbing an unguarded belly while in full vertical swing (it doesn’t reach deep enough), he swiftly withdraws the weapon before evading another incoming slash.

While Takahide was not one to be feared, Katsuhide was another matter entirely. What the younger lacked in strength of personality was bolstered in his fighting prowess. Many subjects of Odawara-jo have been fooled by his pretentious docility and meek manner. Few have known that only a handful could compete with his sword skills. And to all the traitors fighting for the honor of drawing the first droplet of his blood, Katsuhide worried Saburo the most. A shockwave of raw force slammed on his wrists, radiating towards his arms, each time he barely manages to throw his blade in between them.

As his muscles spasmed in pain at the constant battering blows he dealt and received, it dawned on him he wouldn’t be able to keep this up. The humming numbness of bruised nerves was weakening his grip on his weapon. The constant dodging, parrying, and running in loose sandy terrain was not helping him stay on his feet. What were a few sword street fights and drunken brawls’ experience compared to dueling with true samurai? Their semi-coordinated assaults heavily bled his endurance and stamina. He could not be on the defensive if he wants to remain alive.

Unbeknownst to him, his fierce glaring eyes only turn the inebriated men on. Their gazes flare unholy light watching his lithe body move gracefully with the dagger. Saburo was breathing hard, skin flushed from exertion; his hair was about to come loose from his riband and his sweat only added sheen to his fine features. They imagine him in the same state, the same appearance, naked, spread eagled, screaming, forced to receive them one by one…

The former buke⁴³ of the Hojo had stopped chasing him for some time now. They simply waited for Takahide or Katsuhide to maneuver him on their fighting space and that was the time they attacked. With them not showing signs of fatigue while he being the exact opposite: the tactic proved efficient. Saburo finds himself surrounded. The bushi lay scattered on a loose formation covering his escape route on all four sides. He really much felt like a cornered piece on one of Ujimasa-ani’s shogi boards. But this time, the danger was real. He could lose his life in one wrong move.

“You play hard to get, Young Master.” Takahide drawls patting the shallow wound on his belly. The Danjo’s grace must be legendary, he thought. For he not only ensured their escape pass, he inadvertently saved his life from Saburo’s blade. Was Kousaka Danjo gifted with a spiritual foresight of some sort?

“Taka-ani, we should end this! We’ve wasted enough time already.” Katsuhide was rather becoming impatient. The length of time it was taking them to subdue Saburo irks him. How could a seventeen-year-old brat with incomplete kenjutsu training hold out like this for so long? This resistance was starting to get on his pride as a sword master.

“And what do you suggest? We can’t kill him, *he* needs the boy alive.” Takahide seems to remember the throbbing injury in his palm making him falter with his weapon. And that was what Katsuhide needed of him. “And so do we.” He licks his lips in anticipation. When the boy falls… he will be the first to claim the spoils. “Clear the way, I’ll take him on alone.”

Takahide observes his brother adopt a different stance and relents. He wasn’t in shape to continue anyway. Thrusting his blade down the sand he turns to the others, “You follow what he says. Don’t interfere or he will cut you down for blocking his path.”

Katsuhide didn’t even care if they get in the way or not. He was already charging, crossing blades with a flat-footed Saburo who could barely keep up. Their lapse in conversation must have distracted him. Boldly using that to his advantage he swings full arcs horizontally snapping the blade close to his body (no room for an opening) and forcing his young opponent to retreat rapidly backwards.

Lightning fast and unbelievably strong sword strikes rain down on Saburo. How was he supposed to parry or dodge those long precise strokes when he could hardly get a grip? His leg muscles were starting to burn from the abuse they were compelled to withstand.

Out of nowhere a glint of metal catches his line of sight before perilously swerving upwards. A slash he never anticipates swipes diagonally close to his eyes, cutting a few hairs near his forehead.

Saburo moves away quickly darting to the left and breaking for a run before his attacker repeats the fatal motion.

“Fool! Didn’t your master tell you that turning your back on your opponent equates death?” Katsuhide was hot on his heels, pursuing him before he could go further. Saburo twists his foot, pivoting just in time, widens his stance and lifts his blade to receive the massive blow that came crashing down on him. He winces; the high-pitched clang reverberates on his trembling fingers transforming into an ache from the strain of putting up with the weight of a man pushing his aggression against his crumbling defense.

Stuck in a deadlock with neither of them relenting, Katsuhide makes a mistake of looking directly into Saburo’s eyes. A fiery determination to win blazes into those tiger’s eyes making him feel bloody hot down there. His focus dwindles a little and Saburo wastes no time in seizing the upper hand. He bows to the uncontrolled force like a bamboo bending for strong winds, absorbing the energy before snapping it right back to the source.

The sudden absence of the opposing force nearly throws Katsuhide off balance. Just when did the brat learn a maneuver like that? He deflects Saburo’s delayed slash with his scabbard irately. It was fortunate the runt didn’t manage a counterattack soon enough or he would be seriously injured. The boy was getting weak, his slowing reflexes was a testament to his undeniable exhaustion.

“Look at them go.” A burly samurai whistles through his teeth impressed by the continuing exchange of swordplay.

“Who would have thought he could put up such a good fight?” Another remarks; hand already elsewhere kindling a dirty flame.

“Oi, do that when he’s down!”

“Hmph, spoilsport.”

Saburo haven’t the slightest thought that while he was desperately fighting for his life those around him cast their bets on how long he would last in the duel. To them he was nothing but an elusive prey waiting to be subjugated into the most humiliating carnal horrors that even a hunted animal could not hope to endure. But just like one being sought relentlessly, Saburo was getting sick of his pursuers both literally and figuratively. Betrayal seconding a betrayal was hard on his juvenile sensibilities. He was barely coping from his protector’s abrupt desertion. And now this?

If they have something against his aniue why don’t they go and harass the Sagami no Kami instead? Or was it because… he was the more favorable, easy target?

In that case… I won’t go down quietly… Saburo managed a considerable distance from his stationary foe: Katsuhide was merely observing him; long sword poised in the most basic of stances. Those eyes noted the slight unsteadiness of his grip on the tanto, which hurt a ton just by keeping it raised this way. His fatigue was transparent: short breaths, flushed skin, and sweat drying uncomfortably into the cool air of early eve.

The sun has set and he barely noticed the red moon rising in the sky. So engaged he was in this unheralded battle for survival that he failed to realize he was trapped. Two closely-knit boulders obstructed his rear and yet his opponent seems paying more attention to his poor martial form. Could I fool him? Could I bluff my way out? Bravado becomes Saburo’s last resort. I’m on my own.

No guardian would come to protect me.

These supposed protectors of my family came to kill me.

It would be his final maneuver. Make it count.

“I surrender, Katsuhide.” Saburo declares, drops his dagger and with hands in the air, approaches.

All fourteen men stood, dumbstruck. “What?” The Matsuda twins utter at the same time.

Among them all, Katsuhide was the most outraged. The fire he had seen in those eyes when their blades clashed was… gone? This brat! HOW COULD HE? I wanted to defeat him! I want to be the one to extinguish that haughty flame! He feels like he had been led on, goaded like a fool.

Saburo was about a step away wearing a bemused expression. Just when did he close the gap? He seems unarmed, “I lose to you.” A soft warm hand lands on his gauntlet. “There’s no need for this.” Katsuhide repeats his previous error and meets Saburo’s unwavering gaze. And deftly, just as simply, his weapon was pried out of his fingers, plucked out, falling to the side. So entranced he was on the feel of that touch that he blindly registers Saburo’s other hand taking the shorter blade off his sheath.

“No!” Takahide’s yell of warning came too late. With a grunt of pain, he was already falling. His back hits the sand and he finds his own weapon staring him on the face. He ached from where the blunt edge connected against the vulnerable part of his gut. Someone was teaching this brat the weak pressure points of the body.

“A bad move and your severed head will happily roll towards the waves.” Saburo warns, gesturing vaguely towards the sea while the pointed tip never left to keep Katsuhide in check.

“Katsuhide!” Takahide calls again in panic for his twin’s safety. The younger one calms his brother with a look that passes discreetly between them.

“I underestimated you, Saburo-sama. You are not unskilled with the sword as many buke⁴³ believe you to be.” A calm veneer houses a seething inferno of defeat.

“Praises will get you nowhere.” Saburo blocks his attempts at negotiation.

Katsuhide doesn’t give up. “If only you were the true master of the Hojo, things would be different. My brother and I would have gladly served a wise, honorable lord.”

“What are you trying to…?” Emotion leaks into those imperious eyes.

“You hate your brother don’t you? We hate him too and that makes us the same.” Katsuhide continues, lying passively, carefully gathering sand in his fists.

“Lies!” Denial.

“You don’t believe me? But if you were to stand guard before his chambers at night, the name he calls out on his bed would drive *you* mad!” Katsuhide snarls throwing fistfuls of sand on the lordling’s unguarded face.

Saburo stumbles as he vigorously rubs the sting off his eyes.

“Let me tell you something else.” Katsuhide recovers and picks the shoto out of his prey’s reach. “There is one thing that your brother shares with the rest of us.” His lustful gaze rakes Saburo’s lithe body. “Do you want to find out?”

The other bushi were gathering towards them. “The fact that he let you leave his side shows his lack of compassion. Or perhaps he has given the permission to do whatever we want with you as his parting gift?”

Saburo couldn’t tell who speaks anymore. The underhanded trick left him half-blind on the ground, his mind reeling of the dark implications behind Katsuhide’s words.

“So in behalf of your brother, we are to violate you until you wish for death.” Demons speaking on his ears, laughing, roaring, mocking him… hands reaching for his clothing, distorted faces… no escape, no way out…

A thrusting blade slices through the air cutting the nearest filthy arm off the hunched Saburo. Blood splatters, hysterical shouts of pain, and surprise jolts him, making him squint up to a towering man wielding a naginata.

Musanaga no Unsui moves in between him and apparent danger. An outsider has involved himself in his personal matters, this he was having none of. Saburo staggers to his feet. “What are you doing?”

Musa looks at him carefully but only spots slightly reddened eyes and the old wound. “I’m glad you are alright, Tsune-sama.”

Saburo scrunches his face. Can’t the man answer a simple question?

“It’s that performer!”

“A lowlife! Scoundrel, how dare you!”

“My arm! My arm! He slashed my arm!”

“Kill him! He’s just a piece of filth!” Disarray claims the turncoats of the Hojo in the face of this man. The bushi thoughtlessly attack their human obstacle all at the same time. Their main fighters Takahide and Katsuhide being injured previously have placed them at a disadvantage.

Avoiding even a step to separate from him, Saburo watches in awe as the ‘piece of filth’ expertly engaged his opponents already down by half using the pole of the naginata. The bushi’s swords get knocked off their hands whichever way they wield it. And when they come back for more, Musa doesn’t put any qualms on smashing bones, breaking noses, and snapping joints with his bare hands. His sparring performance with his fellow was no fluke. He was a skilled warrior able to single-handedly defeat the Matsuda and their followers.

“He’s a monster!” They wail in panic.

“Who are you? Having such skill… you can’t simply be a street performer!” Takahide demands, overwhelmed.

“I’m a piece of filth as you said; defending the person I adore the most.”

Saburo resists the urge to bury his reddened face on his palms in obvious embarrassment. How could this man speak so intimately about him with a straight face?

“My tiger cub has earned himself an admirer, charming.”

And just when harsh tides were beginning to abate, a familiar face illuminated by moonlight from seven years ago shows himself to Saburo.

Kousaka, Musanaga scowls. He had to keep himself from verbally reacting to preserve his cover.

There was movement behind the mamushi. In the radiance of the scarlet-tinged full moon, dozens or more of men in horseback were faintly outlined. Only the ones flanking Kousaka brought torches so their actual number was uncertain. They could be bandits or pirates to any commoner but in the trained eyes of one of the Uesugi’s Ten-ou⁴⁴ their taciturn, disciplined, and composed demeanor could only be mustered by bushi with rank.

The Takeda were intent on the siege.

“Danjo.” Katsuhide acknowledges his presence but was blistered by the strength of a cold glare sent his way.

“As always, I tire of the wait so here I am. But never did I envision this scene even in my wildest dreams!” One must always watch themselves before this man’s temperament. Most couldn’t tell if Kousaka was pleased or enraged but as far as Naoe was concerned the mamushi was preparing to spit venom on his feet.

“Takeda—! How did you breach the protective walls of Odawara?” It was Saburo who calls attention to himself in shock.

“Oh my, he finally noticed me! I’m touched and no dear cub, we didn’t come tearing down any walls. We were welcomed to celebrate Ume Matsuri. You don’t need those lanterns for the festivity. WE’LL SIMPLY SET ODAWARA ON FIRE! I’d figure even the stars would be envious! What do you say?” His jest couldn’t be more serious.

Saburo puts himself forward albeit his battered state. “I won’t allow it.”

Now’s the time, Nobutsuna. I am putting you on stage. It’s your turn to pour great admiration for your poisonous flower and entertain all of us while you’re at it. Kousaka simply gives them a secret smile and addresses the performer instead. “Unsui, if you wish a real test of skills, go try them on my men.” He mounts an idling horse and begins to steer away, heading directly towards the jokamachi.

Kiba-tai⁴⁵ of the Takeda came pouring into the seaside. The Matsuda turn tail and flee wishing for no further involvement in the affairs of their former home ground.

“Cowards!” Saburo shouts but was truly relieved to see them gone for good. He stubbornly stays on his feet facing another round of enemies. He then throws an irate stare on the street performer getting ahead of him again, unafraid of the apparent danger. Is this man merely a travelling entertainer?

The general of the Takeda seems to ignore his significance for once. If they want to deal a preemptive strike against the lords of Odawara wouldn’t killing him as per example or taking him hostage the most logical means to achieve one of their objectives? Why turn their swords on this outsider who doesn’t have anything to do with all these?

“Tsune-sama stay put for a while. I will somehow get us out of this mess soon.” Musanaga says over his shoulder like he totally has the situation under control.

“Don’t treat me like a bad leg or something! I can still fight and shouldn’t you be running and leaving me behind? You have no ties to Odawara.” Saburo bristles being regarded like some damsel in distress. *You* stay out of my way and let me teach these bastards a lesson, dammit!

Musa swings the naginata towards the closest enemy knocking him off his horse. “I have rather become attached to your hometown. And entertainers aren’t always entertainers by trade. Some of us are runaway criminals and thugs who wanted to make better at life. I, in particular have a settle to score against a snake from the Takeda.” Tsune gives him a most adorable puzzled (???) look and he chuckles dealing evenly with the storming ashigaru. If he knew better, these men were here to simply keep them distracted, away from where the real fighting should take place. What are you really up to, Kousaka?

Just when he realized the enemy’s probable intentions, the higher-ranked bushi drop the act and stop fooling around. They gather into a tight formation using the height of their mounts to their advantage. Unsheathing their long swords they charge by two’s. Musa appears unfazed until they ride past his reach and turn their attentions towards Tsune instead. No! Nobutsuna you careless fool!

Tsune has somehow left his side and was now open for attack. He does admire the boy’s strong will but winning wars did not solely depend on courage. You can run like a coward and still turn the tide of battle as exemplified by that malicious snake, Kousaka.

With complete disregard for his safety, Naoe races to reach the boy. Ashigaru pursue him from behind while other mounted bushi attack him on the flanks. He maneuvers his weapon in a wide arc and tramples anyone blocking his path. The curved blade slashes bodies, thrusts past weak straw armor while the pole startles horses and causes much bruising damage. Never had he unleashed so much violence almost losing his cultured years of military training until now. Still he couldn’t get there fast enough. An agile bushi skirts past him and with his naked blade raised, prepares to strike a vulnerable Tsune.

Saburo watches with wide defenseless eyes as the sword descends on him in a slow hypnotic motion…

I am… going to die.

XxXMOBXxX

“The systematic evacuation of Odawara has begun. The signal was the start of the lantern dance as you have ordered, Ujiteru-sama.” A joushi reports for the second overlord of the Hojo who stands brooding by the vantage point of the watchtower.

The Mutsu no Kami feigns inattention so the retainer clears his throat, “We wait for your command.”

“What of my brother? I want news on Saburo.” Ujiteru’s tone was calm but there was a lingering stiffness to it that betrayed his worry.

“Sagami no Kami-sama called off the search party and told them to focus on the sortie.”

“WHAT?” Ujiteru turns, furious. The vassal almost cowers at the strength of his glare.

“Ujiteru-sama, please understand. A Takeda army was sighted approaching the secluded gates of the outskirts. If the search party runs into them, they will only be a hindrance to the shinobi masquerading as the dancers. Our preparations will all be for naught.” Since when was Lord Hojo Ujiteru subject to emotion? He was usually very collected, perceptive to reason and having to reiterate his (Ujiteru) plan for him was excruciating on the part of his second-in-command.

“Are you telling me to abandon Saburo?”

“Fuma Akito and his unit were on the move the moment Saburo-sama left the castle grounds. They will be reporting to us soon.” Matsuda Hideharu⁴⁶ answered calmly.

What their spies whispered and their scouts shouted entering Odawara’s perimeter was what they least expect. Not the Uesugi but the Takeda have amassed an army of an estimated 10,000 in number marching towards the jokamachi. Genan-oji’s remaining couriers in Hakone have ensured that Sohei (who are supposedly neutral and independent) under the employ of the Uesugi were still encamped there. And the night before, the Matsuda twins also conferred that Uesugi-Nagao Kagetora sent a message of his intentions to besiege Odawara. It was to restore the honor of the Uesugi and in behalf of his adoptive father Uesugi Norimasa whom their late father Ujiyasu brought crushing defeats, years’ prior⁴⁷.

When the war banners of the Tiger of Kai were spotted instead, the original plan was hastily revised to cope with the unexpected enemy. The burning of the jokamachi was delayed in anticipation of the enemy’s full charge. So far nothing has gone awry except Ujiteru’s mood.

Hideharu was truly getting worried when everything war-related seems to fly past his lord’s mind. Ujiteru-sama was very much not himself today and he feared it would affect the outcome of this siege.

“I will not order the burning until I hear that report,” was his final and cold reply.

“But my lord, the enemy—!”

“Aniue intends to create “a moat fire” no matter what. The Takeda will not manage their way inside the castle. I at least do not intend to accidentally burn Saburo along with the enemy!” Dark coals of fury were directed at him.

Hideharu bows in obeisance, mollified. “Of course, Ujiteru-sama.”

XxXMOBXxX

Like an unperturbed lake, the Sagami no Kami sits meditatively. His most trusted vassals all gathered around him save a missing pair who volunteered to be the search party and has yet to return. They have successfully housed the evacuees within Odawara-jo’s walls. All was going smoothly as he had planned it until his chief advisor, Daidoji Masashige wearing a grim face, approached him.

He nodded once hearing the not so good news. As the current head of the clan he made it a point to keep private matters private so in the privacy of an adjacent room the two discussed.

“It’s Ujiteru being his usual coddling self so I’m not surprised.” Ujimasa makes light of the situation already thinking of another countermeasure.

“You’ll tolerate this? Mayhap, what is happening to your brothers these days? They both seem “off” their usual selves.” Masashige voices his observations with a disapproving tone.

Their eldest shrugs. “Let Ujiteru be. In the meantime, gather me an army at Mimase Pass. I want to catch the tiger’s tail as it flees in terror.”

The chief advisor raises a bushy eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

“The army is to act as a deterrent; hold the Takeda’s retreat as long as they can.”

“Hmm…? You want me to bag you a robin?” The twinkle in his eye satisfies Ujimasa. He was already willing to set out.

“Yes exactly. I am getting tired of the enemy’s political intrigue. This relay between the Uesugi and Takeda has gone for far too long.” The current Sagami no Kami and the chief advisor interact like old comrades. Masashige was one of the honored few who need not address Ujimasa so formally.

“I’ll bring Ueda-dono with me.” The Suruga no Kami rises to his feet and prepares to leave when,

“Masashige,”

He flashes Ujimasa a toothy grin, “Yes my lord?”

“Make sure the robin tweets. A half-dead bird is no good for me.”

Daidoji salutes him and departs.

XxXMOBXxX

Death hovered from above.

Saburo couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and couldn’t even cry for help. His energy reserves from the fight with the Matsuda were spent. He could only look up foolishly at the blade about to claim his life.

A distinctive clink of metal hitting metal halts the fall before a large body envelopes him protectively.

In a last desperate attempt, Musanaga throws his weapon like a spear to knock the sword off enemy hands. The accuracy of his mark strikes the target dead on but no time to gloat he runs; gripped by the fierceness of an unnamed emotion he had never felt once before in his life. He willingly puts himself in danger, back against the enemy to wrap this young vibrant heart in safety.

“You fool.” Why are you doing this for me? Saburo’s protest was muffled on that broad chest.

The spears, swords, and daggers he was expecting to hurt him never came. The horses were whinnying in fright, spooked by something. Their riders were screaming in anger and pain. A sudden pandemonium befalls the Takeda’s kiba-tai.

A dead body covered in dark liquid…blood and struck countlessly by shuriken slumps beside Saburo’s feet with a thud.

Shinobi. Saburo straightens, pushes against that strong torso so he could survey his moonlit surroundings. Figures that must have been clad in black, move swiftly, soundlessly, and expertly to dispatch the startled cavalry. The Takeda couldn’t clearly see past their assailants’ camouflage and didn’t know what they were really up against. They were easy prey to the crafty ambush clearly a trademark of the Fuma.

One by one the remaining foes drop to the ground. Musanaga grabs the opportunity when an unharmed horse loses its rider and saunters close to them. He carries a startled Tsune, mounts him on the stolen horse, rides behind him, and makes a single turn to retrieve his weapon, sheathing it on his back before galloping away from the scene.

“Wait, what are you— where are you taking me?” Saburo’s back rested heavily against the man’s broad chest, as much as he hates to admit it he was exhausted and he really wanted to lean into the other’s warmth forever.

“Tsune-sama this place is very dangerous right now. Would you consider eloping with me?”

The boy’s response was an immediate whack to the head. “Ow!” That hurt. Who knew this scrawny youth could pack a lethal punch?

“Couldn’t you be serious for once? PUT. ME. DOWN.” Tsune fumes.

“Tsune-sama stop struggling, you’ll fall off.” Musa restrains him bodily in a one-armed embrace and whispers, “I may not provide you the life of a prince but I’ll try my best to treat you as one. I’ll wake you up in the morning, cook the meals for you, wash your clothes, chop the firewood, and keep you warm at night.” Saburo finds himself flushing hot on the hardly wholesome last phrase. How could this man affect him so?

“Alright! Just tell me where we’re going! This isn’t funny anymore.” As they gallop past the outskirts, dark blurs of shadow keep up with them on the alleyways and on the shingled roofs of deserted houses.

“I’m taking you to a friend where you’ll stay safe for the time being.” Musa seems unaware that they were being tagged stealthily.

“No! I have to go to my family!” Odawara was under siege. The Takeda probably have the castle surrounded. He was shut out… Ujiteru-ani…

“Your family must have taken refuge in the daimyo’s castle but going there is not an option. You have seen the Takeda ride out before us. It would do no good if we run into them instead.” They were caught in a heated argument when it happens.

A dark figure darts out of nowhere and detaches Tsune from his companion, effectively snatching him away.

The shinobi lands on his feet in the distance cradling a limp youth in his arms. “Tsune!” Musa reacts too late. It had happened so fast and his reflexes were dulled by the sole focus of his attentions. He rushes for the abductor but the ground beneath them explodes.

When the smoke clears, both Tsune and the dark figure are gone.

Musa grinds his teeth in despair and rage. He has failed. Twice he was distracted to safeguard Tsune properly. He wanted to blame his sleeplessness but it was ultimately his fault.

Driven by anger he cleaves the closest shack in two. Someone was shouting in the background but it wasn’t for the loss of the house. “Musa! Musanaga!”

Jin easily parries his furious blade. “What has gotten into you, Nobutsuna? And where have you been? The siege has started a few moments ago!”

“I…” For an instant, Nobutsuna appeared to be in agony as he grasped something on his chest like he carried the entire nation on his shoulders. Then gradually his gaze hardened turning cold and deadly like the eyes of the stoic war commander Nagahide was accustomed to. The persona of “Musanaga no Unsui” was shed hastily like old worn skin. “It’s late. Let’s go.” Tsune, I’ll find you.

“Are you sure?” Nagahide searches for cracks in the armor but could find none.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

“No.” What is with this murderous aura? Nagahide wonders. “The Sohei have familiarized themselves with the castle’s layout and are already in position to grant us entry.”

“I met the mamushi on the way here, that’s all.” Naoe belatedly explains his hellish mood but Nagahide wasn’t buying it. There was only one person who could burrow under that hard surface; stirring the embers of a frozen heart that refused to beat a long time ago.

“Right… But would you do me a little favor and tell me the exact plan. Just a gist is enough.” Nagahide pinches his thumb and forefinger together in another show of sarcasm.

“We will start a full-scale war and bring Kagetora-sama a valuable hostage. Our goal is to abduct the flower of the Hojo.”

XxXMOBXxX

Saburo blinks the languidness off his eyelids. The scenery around him was swiftly moving sideways. Was he still riding with Musanaga? Did that man succeed in persuading him to elope? –Wait, what? His thoughts were a little messed up and his head felt heavy. He tried to adjust his position but couldn’t. A tall lean man clad in black was carrying him and was running incredibly fast.

“You’re awake, Saburo-sama.” A smooth baritone voice rumbled low in proximate closeness. The shinobi held him as if afraid to let go.

“Fuma Kotarou…?” Saburo croaked. There was something different in his protector.

He definitely guessed wrong for the shinobi laughed quietly. “It’s Akito, Saburo-sama. My name is Fuma Akito.” Kotarou would never willingly show him a sliver of emotion but this one certainly did.

“We’re going back to Odawara-jo?” As he was asking this question, Saburo happened to glance upwards. Dark smoke sailed into the skies from several directions. What is happening? It took a while but the scent of burning eventually reached his nostrils. In the distance large flames were a bright angry red.

Odawara was on fire.

TBC~

Post A/N: You might have noticed that some of the historical data in my plot do not tally with genuine historians’ account: (e.g.: Ujiyasu’s early death, Genan’s relationship with Soun etc.) This was done for some elements of the plot to “work.” Then again, this story is an AU because the real Saburo would not remain with his blood clan. So please don’t use this fic as reference material to study for your Japanese History Exam! (Bows)

43 – Samurai/bushi;

44 – The current head of the Naoe is one of the “Four Heavenly Kings” of the Uesugi.

45 – Japanese cavalry;

46 – The second son of Matsuda Norihide. Norihide is currently Ujimasa’s principle and highest-ranking retainer. His son, Hideharu is distantly related to the Matsuda twins, Takahide and Katsuhide. But unlike them, he remained loyal to the Hojo Clan until the very end.

47 – This I would call an impending Hojo not Hojo versus the Uesugi not Uesugi war. During Ujiyasu’s reign, the Ogigayatsu-Uesugi particularly Uesugi Norimasa suffered defeat after defeat and was pushed all the way to Echigo. There Norimasa (in exile) was forced to give up his lordship, campaigns, and remaining assets to his vassal, Nagao Masatora/Kagetora who changed his name to Uesugi Kagetora as his heir.
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400 Years Apart