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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.

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Chapter Nineteen:

War of the Usurpers: Part 7

A/N: The Hojo are caught in a confusing pincer tactic deployed by two unusually cooperating (or are they?) rival/ enemy clans.

Warning: Lime-squint alert*

*

Stubborn steps make the shinobi constantly watch over his charge. Saburo had insisted on responding to his eldest brother’s summons no matter what. Despite his frail condition he was slowly making his way towards the heart of the palace while Kotarou passively tagged along from behind.

When the youth’s fever subsided, the remaining lapses in memory of Odawara’s siege were filled. Saburo now remembered in startling clarity the abduction of Hanaiin-hime. His failure to rescue her has awakened a restless guilt not quelled by empty soothing words. This feeling of inadequacy… he was willing to be punished unduly for.

After all she was the one who patched him up when a certain protector tore him open. Kotarou felt something stir inside him again as he watches his pale young master push himself and voluntarily enter the beast’s den for the sake of a woman.

“Stop following me. I’ll be fine by myself!” Saburo lashes out at him leaning heavily against the wall of an adjacent drawing room.

“It can’t be helped, Young Master. If I remember correctly, things didn’t go quite well the last time you were in the lord’s company.” Kotarou had to dutifully remind him. Normally he was a submissive participant in his lordling’s outbursts but when the youth was weak enough to stagger, he was not as easily shaken off either.

In a few long strides he was by his young master’s side urging the stubborn lad to lean on him instead.

Saburo claws at the fabric of his front and pins him with a gaze burning with accusation. “Things also didn’t end well when you were in my company at that time.”

Kotarou barely registers the feel of those nails cutting sharply at his skin. His fingers travel on their own accord at the bandaged wrapping around Saburo’s neck.

The lordling suddenly finds the strength to instinctively draw back with a gasp.

“Forgive me, Young Master.” The protector said softly, hand still outstretched. “Please allow me to stay by your side.”

Saburo could find nothing on that blank face or feel any warmth from those dark eyes devoid of life and emotion. He turns away for fear of falling into the depths of an endless void. “Damn you. You dare ask me that much?”

“I am not forgiven then.” The shinobi concludes, hand falling limp to the side.

Saburo still ends up clutching his protector’s arm. He couldn’t stand by himself anymore. “Not for now. No.” He says firmly with an unfathomable expression. And Kotarou understands allowing his young lord to grasp his shoulder for support as he kneels down taking hold of one slender leg. He kneads the exhausted muscle, stimulating the pressure points to promote blood circulation.

“You certainly have no shame, coming up with any excuse to harass me with your touch.” Saburo fights hard to keep the tremor out of his voice as Kotarou painstakingly labored against the weakness claiming his legs.

“If Young Master only listened to me and waited for his physician then he needs not to subject himself in my amateur ministrations.” Kotarou replies grasping the arch of one foot delicately before applying one therapeutic pressure too hard.

Saburo yelps inelegantly. He would have kicked if long deadly fingers did not hold his leg captive. “Are you trying to break it or make it better?”

Kotarou pacifies him by releasing the offended limb. And then donning a more formal demeanor, he carefully puts distance between them. “Young Master, should we really keep the daimyo waiting?” These words regrettably bring Saburo back into cruel reality.

“You were the one stalling me.” Saburo snaps at him tepidly. He may not admit it but the massage has eased the tension previously consuming him like wildfire. “Perhaps you should tell me the reason.”

“I only fear for the repeat of last time.” The shinobi sticks to his previous argument though it was nothing but a lie.

Saburo doesn’t see through it but makes a dent on the shinobi’s armor with this remark, “For all I know, fear is an emotion, is it not?”

So… alike.

The brothers were…

His mask almost cracked. If the young master could at least put up a tough front then he had no cause for worry. “Pardon me, Young Master. It was only an expression of stating my concern for you.”

For Hojo Saburo his truths were lies and his lies were truth. There seems to be no middle-ground between them… no dividing line where they could meet halfway.

The youngest lord of the Hojo sharply turns on his heel abandoning his shadow in the deserted hallway.

XxXMOBXxX

A pair of bushi guarding the daimyo’s chambers bows low before him. Steeling himself and his racing heart, Saburo only looks straight ahead as they reveal the closed room.

Several heads turned at the sound of his approach. Bushi garbed in flowing and elegant kamishimo etched with family crests and swords of honor meant official business for the reigning clan of Sagami.

To have an audience made up mostly of Hojo generals and being the sudden center of their attention for arriving late unnerved Saburo. He had expected the summons to be of personal nature. Foolishly, he had thought his aniue wanted to talk to him in private. To have him come alone, unknowingly for a formal assembly… was this his aniue’s way of showing his displeasure towards him? It was no wonder that unfeeling stone was adamant to confine him in his room.

Dampening his rising temper he crosses the threshold like a prey willingly letting itself be ensnared.

“Saburo, sit next to me.” A familiar cold voice commands.

Startled, the youth lifts his head and their eyes unwittingly meet. Did he hear that right? Saburo had never thought to be addressed this way by their eldest. Only Ujiteru-ani would care enough to single him out among a powerful crowd and (he realizes with a start) also the one who had the undisputed place beside the daimyo.

“Saburo,” Ujimasa calls again, now with a hint of impatience.

“Aniue?” The youth finds his voice after just standing there unable to act his usual self because of this man.

“Have I to repeat myself, boy?”

Nothing protects him from the sharp daggers in that piercing gaze. Would he succumb again to being the erring youngest sibling who couldn’t fend for himself?

“Aren’t you proud of me? I managed to stand up for myself.”

“I am proud of you.”

I will keep making you proud of me. I shall waver no more.

Saburo slowly regains his bearings, battling against irrational fear and drawing a complete blank to seal his previous vulnerable expression. He answers firmly, “No, aniue.”

He strides fully across the room and settles on the empty space by the daimyo’s right. Maintaining a stern façade, Ujimasa was secretly pleased of this behavior.

“You were ill for nearly two days. Has your fever subsided?” The daimyo asked in a cool detached tone.

The lordling offers a small nod. Perhaps a closed expression is the only way the youth could repel psychological attacks. Sincere or not, Saburo had been fooled a time too many to simply believe and trust things as they appear.

If this was your intention then it is certainly working. Ujimasa’s thoughts stray on that night where a shinobi exposed his master as much as he bared himself. In his pensive mood, he easily ignores the nervous tension steadily rising between every samurai gathered within the room. Like Saburo, the Go-Hojoshi retainers simply answered the summons of their master without knowing the reason why.

Before the murmuring could get any louder, a scurrying courier announced, “The army from Mimase has arrived, Ujimasa-sama!”

Ujiteru-ani…! Saburo almost stood up if not for a warning glance.

War-beaten, tired, and sleepless men still clad in their blood-crusted armors came pouring into the room. The only act of courtesy they could do in this unconventional place of assembly was to leave their waraji⁷⁶ behind. This makes one wonder why the army had to report to the daimyo indoors when the castle grounds were much more suitable.

As the samurai entered one by one, their uncharacteristic silence and grim expressions immediately give off the impression that something was wrong. Two generals who led the army came forward and prostrated before their overlord despite their injuries. Ujimasa remained tight-lipped, giving them a weighty stare though he knew they were waiting for his permission to speak.

Saburo turns to his aniue and watches those eyes narrow and harden. He was familiar with that gaze. It was evident of a coming storm.

“Ujimasa-sama, if it pleases you I’m willing to stay bent like this until you command me to my death but please have pity on Ueda-dono’s old bones.” Daidoji Masashige, who was infamous for addressing the daimyo like an equal breaks the ice. It was no use wasting time, delaying the inevitable.

Ueda Tomonao snarls at his ill-mannered companion. “No, Ujimasa-sama! Unlike a certain scoundrel, this “Old bones” is willing to bow before you until his last breath if you deem it so!”

“Silence! You two just spoke before Tono-sama allowed it! Such insolence!” The chief vassal, Matsuda Norihide rebukes.

Amidst the beginning argument of the key retainers, a pacifying voice was oddly missing. The one who mediates through several opinions of military-inclined men in behalf of the daimyo… Saburo quickly becomes painfully aware of his position beside the master of the household and notices belatedly that Ujiteru was not with the returned army.

Caught by a blind panic, the youth with his heart pounding madly searches every face he sees, deluding himself thinking that he might have missed his aniue in this large crowd.

He could not find him.

Where…?

Where are you?

A nameless fear grips Saburo beyond words. No… You can’t be…

“All three of you have spoken needlessly. Perhaps I am being too lenient.” Ujimasa pointedly remarks. His previously injured hand twitches and then curls into a tight fist. The dry cold gaze quivers and a sliver of emotion escapes unnoticed. “Do I have to make a head count or ask the spirit of my deceased mother how many of her children are in this room? Speak! Masashige!” Like deafening thunder, the daimyo succumbs to his anger.

If it were possible, Daidoji Masashige lowers himself more and responds in a broken voice, “I take all the blame, Ujimasa-sama. I do not seek for your forgiveness. I have gone into battle with your confidence and yet I bring you back nothing! Not even your brother…”

Saburo clamps a hand on his mouth to stifle any sound. Ueda shuts his eyes painfully, the chief vassals are petrified, and Matsuda Hideharu pales considerably.

“Address your commander appropriately!” The Sagami no Kami rages. Gone was the preternatural calm he often wore as a mask.

Masashige takes a deep breath, remains prostrate and tries again with a neutral voice, “I, Daidoji Masashige report to His Lordship, Ujimasa-kou that we have ousted the Takeda at Mimase and severely incapacitated their daimyo Takeda Shingen-dono… However…” He pauses, trying to collect himself and failing miserably. “Ujiteru-sama has…” His shoulders shake and he curses himself for not being a better vanguard. For a moment, the strapping general feared he wouldn’t be able to continue. Weren’t war commanders, hardened enough to expect the loss of lives in battle? Yet tears blurred his eyes and others who aren’t just grown men but samurai had forgotten to be warriors in the beginnings of grief.

“Ujiteru-Taisho-sama has been killed in battle.”

Saburo stopped dead hearing those words. Gasping uncontrollably, he bit the inside of his palm and still feel like passing out. No… No…! NO! He screamed silently.

You can’t abandon me…!

I’ll truly be alone!

He couldn’t cry. He refused to renege on his promise. Stiffly folding his hands on his lap, he forced himself to listen to the rest as his mind went numb and his heart died slowly, quietly.

“Is that all?” The daimyo’s question was a mere rasp.

“No, Ujimasa-sama.” Masashige’s tear-softened eyes grew murderously sharp. “The Takeda…! Those cruel bastards have left us nothing to mourn over!”

“What do you mean?” Ujimasa wore the terrifying face of a demon that majority of his subjects cowered in fear.

Ueda Tomonao uttered in a chilling serene tone that was out of place. “They took him.” His dull eyes, like Masashige’s lit up in rage. “The vile Takeda had taken our beloved lord’s body as they fled! –As a prize no doubt! Curse them to hell!” He spat on the ground.

“Tono-sama! Let me amass an army! I shall chase the Takeda to the very ends of Japan if I had to!”

“Silence!” The master of the household bellowed. Then in a shift in mood no one could have predicted turns to the person sitting beside him. “Saburo, what think you?”

The youth stares back, wide-eyed and perplexed as to why this man would care to ask for his opinion. In his sorrow he could only wish the earth to swallow him up and shed his tears until none were left.

“How shall we avenge our brother? Do I command the vassals who failed Ujiteru to die by their blades or...” Ujimasa pulls his katana free and presents it hilt first to his otouto. “Would you kill them yourself?”

Saburo did not dare move or even breathe. He stares blankly at the sword weighing heavily on his open hands.

What was this?

Why was he being asked to do this?

And both choices… They simply have the same end-result.

It was cruel. He was being cruel again.

Matsuda Hideharu, Ujiteru’s second-in-command quickly took pity on the boy. He heard the young lordling could barely get out of bed and yet upon doing so receives the most dreadful news and now was being forced to bear such a burden he didn’t deserve.

Just before Ujiteru left for Mimase, he thought of nothing but his family, his soldiers, and the safety of his homeland. Hideharu was already swept by a sense of foreboding that he called after his lord, reasoning with him— arguing with him one last time. The Mutsu no Kami was unyielding and stood by his decision.

“Ujiteru-san!” Hideharu yelled as a last resort.

Ujiteru stopped, looked back, and smiled. “I never thought you would address me that way again. And at this circumstance, no less.”

Hideharu flushed but if the lord was stubborn he was just as determined. “Wait for the reinforcements.”

Ujiteru sighed. “If anything shall happen to me, the gods have willed it. Take care of Saburo for me.”

The youth’s lips blanched. His head throbbed and paralyzing fire burned in his veins… the fever was returning. In his weak state, if he chooses the last option presented to him he wouldn’t be able to lift the blade. And he already knew there was no correct path on both choices. It was an unnecessary bloodshed. So he chose to be unresponsive.

“Saburo-sama does not need to command. I am willing to commit seppuku⁷⁷ and follow my lord in the afterlife.” Hideharu said, intentionally shifting the crowd’s focus on himself.

His father immediately protested. “Hideharu! Watch your tongue!” Norihide snaps in fear for his son’s life.

“The young still have a life ahead of them. I have lived long enough. Had not Ujiteru-sama came to our aid, I should have perished first. Let me be the one to follow him.” Ueda offered, already unsheathing his weapon.

“Hold it, old man! The bushi still need your guidance! And…” Among the Go-Hojoshi generals, Daidoji Masashige surprisingly was the most emotional and couldn’t hold back his tears. “I am the one responsible. I failed His Lordship… I failed you all!”

The decision no longer rested on young Saburo’s frail shoulders. Honorable men are willing to take their own lives for absolute loyalty. A samurai’s fate was to follow his lord even to his grave.

“No life shall be taken in this room.” A clear voice shatters the men’s resolve like a summer storm.

Was it the fever causing him to act unusually bold? Saburo thrust Ujimasa’s sword against the tatami and used it for support as he stood up. As much as he knew his aniue would probably kill him later, he could be the passive observer no longer. He wouldn’t wish it to end like this…

“Aniue, you have given me the right to decide thus I choose neither. We have already lost one great general. What good would it do our forces if we sentence more to death?”

To say that Ujimasa had been stunned would be an understatement. This was probably the first time, the boy stood up to him in public. “Is that so?” He asked, putting his rigid mask back in place.

“Yes.” Saburo answered with conviction. For Ujiteru-ani…

The master of the household stared into fierce amber eyes and secretly marveled in their intensity. What more can you do if you could turn a stone into soft loam? “Very well.”

Did their daimyo just agree to his youngest sibling? It was the generals’ turn to be shocked.

Even the veteran war commanders were impressed. It seems Hojo Saburo wasn’t only a child with a pretty face. He had spoken like a true general.

Despite his throbbing temples and ever-weakening legs Saburo instantly became wary. Their eldest wouldn’t submit to another so easily. His gut told him he had been manipulated to make this decision. What could the Sagami no Kami be thinking?

“However, keeping the generals alive isn’t a solution in itself, am I correct, Saburo?” Here it comes…

“Someone has to take his place and avenge him. Do you all not agree?” Another trap—

He had fallen into another one.

More creases appeared on Hideharu’s aggrieved face. He is too merciless. The boy had no one to protect him now. I do not have enough power to save him, Ujiteru-san. Forgive me.

Saburo had broken too many of their expectations. He wasn’t about to stop. “Then there is no one more suited than I, aniue. I will take Ujiteru-ani’s place and avenge him.”

Protests quickly erupted among the crowd of experienced warriors. “He is but a child, Tono-sama! How would he fare against battles to come?”

“Norihide, you are my chief vassal and yet you oppose me at every turn.” Ujimasa heaved a fake sigh.

“No Tono-sama! It’s just that… I am only concerned for your brother’s welfare.” Matsuda Norihide amended swiftly.

“You owe him your lives. Would it be so much to ask to adopt him in your ranks and train him to become a fine general himself?” This statement received no argument until…

“Ujimasa, what foolishness is this? You have barely mourned for your brother Ujiteru, and yet you are already sending your last sibling to his death! Shame on you!” Hojo Genan, supported by two pages interrupted the military affair. He was still in his bed clothes and only donned an outer robe to lessen his shabby appearance.

“Genan-oji, shouldn’t you be resting in your room? The physician strictly recommended you not to get out of bed.” Ujimasa lifted a hand to his forehead. The dreaded piece that could imbalance his plans has arrived unfavorably.

“How can I rest well when you seem to have forgotten about my daughter? Saburo himself could use a physician’s care he looks ready to fall over there.” It seems the frail old man’s ki was as sharp as ever. The daimyo had no choice but to respect his elder and dismiss the Go-Hojoshi retainers. He did not want to bring Hanaiin’s abduction out before he could properly identify her captors… or who is behind them, rather. His goals had veered toward the Takeda from the start. With Shingen incapacitated, they were weak. It was the best time to strike them. Yet the Uesugi’s covert activities at Hakone niggled at him. The identity of the hostage that Kotarou brought was too enticing to be true. Was this another crossroad the Uesugi and the Takeda were unwittingly or advertently laying at his feet?

As much as he wanted to set his priorities straight, he couldn’t think clearly at the moment. Like looming shadows, the abyss of sorrow awaited him at every corner. And the worst thing was that he was not allowed to show this weakness… such was the curse of being the clan head.

But when Saburo collapsed he found himself moving before he could think. He caught the slender body and awkwardly but gently laid it against him (careful of the katana) as he sat to the privacy of the nearly empty room. The youth was burning up, his cheeks were flushed, and he was panting softly as he breathed.

“What were you thinking inviting him to this meeting I was also told nothing about?” Genan demanded in the righteous anger of a parent.

Ujimasa didn’t answer and instead commands, “Akito, bring this bundle to him. I know he is waiting outside.”

The ceiling creaked ever so slightly and then a gap on the wooden panels appeared. A shinobi dropped gracefully and silently before them. “Yes, Tono-sama.” The daimyo’s protector received the limp body and halfway across the room vanishes from sight.

“Are you going to similarly send me away?” Genan asked stubbornly provoking the other to speak.

“I have arranged for us to discuss about this later. The men are tired, Ujiteru is dead, and Saburo is ill. Should you be so impatient?” Ujimasa replied with uncharacteristic cynicism.

“You forgot to add that my daughter has been abducted. You summoned your sick brother to your chambers, send his escorts away to bait him, and when the news hit, you say you have no time to grieve for Ujiteru! What cold monster has my great nephew become?”

“I have already become a monster long ago. This should be unsurprising to you.” Ujimasa answered nonchalantly paying more attention to the warmth lingering on his skin as he had held Saburo.

“What are you planning?”

Ujimasa showed him the coin with the engraving, “Negotiations to be done at Hatsushima Island.”

“Since Hanaiin has been taken by Sohei as Akito confirmed, this leads to bigger things. Practicality speaking, your daughter has no value unless the enemy could connect the dots and lead them back to me. It means they are counting on our connection as relatives and governors of both Odawara and Hakone. If our relationship weakens, you’ll refuse to cooperate with me. Then the enemy will have a fortress and that is a strategic move I cannot allow. Hence I have done measures to counter that. Kotarou brought me a hostage but he too is of little value. Merely a child, like Saburo but if we play this right we could have leverage against the Uesugi.”

“This proves the Uesugi is behind all these!”

“That is questionable. Kagetora-dono could be baiting us just the same. The Sohei are neutral. It is essential they remain that way or the Bakufu shall relinquish favor upon them. The fact that they are behaving rather strangely, favoring the Uesugi as you suspected could mean someone more powerful than the Bakufu is influencing them.”

“The Uesugi could not be more powerful than the Bakufu! It is preposterous to even imagine so!”

“They are not. Alone, the Uesugi could hardly stand a chance against us. But if they were to join with another powerful clan wouldn’t it be more plausible? The Uesugi is targeting Hakone, the Takeda are taunting us to chase after them, and the Sohei are beckoning us to an island at sea... What if all three of them were in this together?”

“WHAT?” Genan was flabbergasted.

“That is roughly a theory, nothing to get worked up with. Yet the more this drags on the more all three of them are somewhat starting to play a role. So Oji-sama, which of the three should be my priority? Would it be your daughter who might not be alive, my brother who might not be dead, or my people of Odawara?”

“I…”

“If we can’t even choose a solid answer then this is not a time to collaborate about this. You have previously suffered from an attack, yes? It is unwise to put more strain on your health.” The daimyo stood up, bowed to him, retrieved his katana, and headed for the inner chamber of his spacious palace.

“Ujimasa,”

The Hojo Clan Head paused while Akito opened the shoji from within.

“You and Ujiyasu are so alike. Do not repeat the mistakes he had committed that nearly destroyed the family. If any case, family should be your priority.” Genan reminded him before leaving as well.

Ujimasa looked into his hands. He and his siblings shared the very same pair. They inherited it from their father. Would his own, like Ujiyasu’s cause more unhappiness and sorrow to his clan? He could only hope not.

“Ujimasa-sama?” Akito being the only shadow with a heart calls worriedly upon his motionless master.

“Leave me, Akito. I wish to be alone. Go and see if the physician has treated Saburo.” The daimyo said very quietly.

At first he wanted to argue. In the past few days, Tono-sama has frequently sent him away leaving the master vulnerably unprotected in his absence. But when the man hung his head, Akito caught the whiff of salt in the air and understood at once. “Yes, Tono-sama.” The protector bowed and was gone in a blink.

Ujimasa’s lip quivered, his forehead creased and he quickly pressed a hand against his eyes. Not a moment passed and his palm felt wet.

TBC~

76 – Straw sandals

77 – The ritual suicide involving the cutting of one’s stomach. The slang term is called ‘hara-kiri’.

Post A/N: This is a sad chapter… I know. *Unwraps a box of tissues for herself and the readers. Please R&R.
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400 Years Apart