Shudo and the Ronin

Nippon – Japan
Edo – Tokyo

Ōishi Kuranosuke Yoshio, the Asano family’s Head Counselor and Samurai, stood in the courtyard waiting for the servants of the household to gather. At his side stood Asano-dono’s immediate family, trying their best to show bravery in the face of such a horrific occurrence.

Once the entire staff stood in the courtyard waiting nervously and talking amongst themselves, Ōishi-sama called their attention forward. There were more than 300 people assembled, from the lowliest maid to the high-ranking family officials. He began by explaining the situation.

“Asano-dono was ordered to commit suicide by the Shogun this afternoon.” The crowd rose in a wave of noise as the impact of the Head Counselor’s words was realized and rumors answered. Fear dominated all in attendance while cries of “Asano-dono is dead!” rang through the air.

When the crowd didn’t calm down after a few moments, one of the house guards called out, “Silence!” in a booming voice. All eyes were drawn once again to Ōishi-sama.

“Our Master’s death is unforgivable, and we Samurai will not let it pass unpunished. But this moment must be used to prepare for the immediate future! As the Head Counselor of this house, I am taking control.”

Ōishi called a small group of trusted Samurai together and ordered them to take what was left of Asano-dono’s family away and find them sanctuary somewhere in Nippon, outside of the main city of Edo. Ōishi knew that the family had been cast into ruin and would not rise to power again during this era. It was important to at least rush them to safety so they would not all be killed when the government officials arrived.

The family had already been informed of the circumstances surrounding Asano-dono’s death, and were quickly ushered to the stables. Surrounded by their guards, the sounds of their horses quickly faded away as they disappeared into the night.

The Counselor once more turned to the crowd. “The Shogun’s men will arrive soon to claim this house and all its possessions, including the servants. Everyone here will remember that we serve the Shogun, we are his vassals. You will all do as you are told.”

Ōishi barked out a string of orders to everyone, but young Shuichi’s attention faded away. His heart was gripped with fear. The Samurais’ would probably leave soon to take their revenge on Kira-dono, and there was a chance he would never see Eiri-sama again.

The Bushido code required that the Samurais seek revenge upon Kira-dono. Nothing would stop them from seeking out the man to slaughter him, along with his family. Shuichi could only hope such knowledge caused Kira-dono to shake with fear. The Asano household Samurai were renowned for their strength and prowess.

The chigo understood what such fear was; his heart pounded violently at the knowledge that his own life and that of Eiri-sama were very much in danger. There was a chance these were to be their last moments. Shuichi regretted never telling his Shishou how deeply he’d come to love him, but felt his chest swell with pride knowing that the man would die on his feet, fighting until his soul left his body. He swore that if he lived through this night, he’d write a song about it.

Shuichi was startled from his thoughts by the sound of trumpets and horse hooves. It sounded as if an entire army were outside their gates. Ōishi and a few of the other high ranked Samurai opened the gates to the Shogun’s men while the Asano family employees prostrated themselves on the ground.

From where Shuichi lay, he could not hear the conversation. Horses moved up and down the lines of servants with katanas drawn. When the chigo chanced a peek around the courtyard, he saw that all the servants were down on the ground with the exception of the Asano family Samurai. They stood in a line between the Shogun’s Counselor and the household servants, respectful of the situation but proud. Lifting up his body a little further, he could see Eiri-sama stood towards the end, hands on his hips and legs planted wide apart. He was the youngest of the Samurai, and by far the most handsome, his blonde shoulder-length hair tied in a tight knot at the base of his neck. Knowing he may never speak with him again made Shuichi’s heart ache.

He shifted back even further on his knees until he was nearly sitting, his hands still on the ground. His attentions were so focused on his Master that he didn’t see the attack until it was too late. A bamboo rod hit his right side hard between his hip and his shoulder, flipping him over onto his back to land face up. His eyes with a mounted Imperial Samurai. Pain bloomed from the point of impact, but he quickly regained his composure and threw himself back into the proper bow, face down on the ground once again. The Samurai pressed the bamboo rod into the back of Shuichi’s head, pushing his face into the dirt beneath him before moving on.

Shuichi was used to being disciplined, so at first, little more than a gasp escaped him when he was hit. Now that he was lying with his body prostate in the dirt once more, he slowed his breathing and un-tensed his muscles. The pain intensified and he couldn’t help but wonder how bad his injury was. His right arm fought against him, wanting to come down and hug against his body, but Shuichi refused to chance another hit from the soldiers and forced himself to remain in the proper position.

Before he was hit, he didn’t bother to listen to what was being said around him because he was concentrating on Eiri-sama. Now, the pain caused his heartbeat to pound in his ears and he couldn’t hear anything around him. He bit his lips to hold back his tears.

Fingers wrapped none-to-gently around his arms pulling him to his feet. Everyone was rising and the servant next to him was helping his stand, urging him to leave. “We’ve been ordered to return to our rooms for the night and continue with our work come the morning as if nothing has changed.”

The words took on a strange timbre for Shuichi. How could he possibly continue his work as if nothing was different? His work was to care for Eiri-sama, in addition to learning the Bushido arts. But if the Asano household was dissolved, he would never become a Samurai himself, unless the Shogun had agreed to take him in as an acolyte in the Imperial household. That was unheard of.

Following the crowds inside, he made his way back towards his room. On the way, he passed a water trough and splashed some cool liquid on his face, washing away the dirt. Once he entered his room, he dried off and knelt down on his tatami mats. The jostling of the people against him had aggravated his side, and he lifted his robes to look at where he had been hit.

A large red mark was darkening his skin and turning many nasty colors, including black and yellow. When he ran his fingers over the area, the pain was sharp in some places, dull in others. Taking many deep breaths, Shuichi tried to determine if his breathing had been injured by the hit. He decided it hadn’t, and pulled out his futon to follow the orders they were given. He’d lie down and hope that Eiri-sama would come to him tonight and tell him what would be expected of him from now on.

Shuichi put out the lights in his room. Crawling into his bedroll he laid down, favoring his right side and stared off at the side of the door, waiting for Eiri. The house had fallen quiet. To Shuichi, this silence was more telling than almost anything that had come before.

In such a large household, noises could be heard at any hour. There were always things to be done. The water had to be kept hot. Someone would be walking to relieve themselves. A baby would be crying. Couples would be heard making love. But tonight, even the horses which normally whinnied and neighed into the night, seemed to be unnaturally silent.

Pressing his face into the bed, he cried, afraid of what the future would now deny him. Through the silence, he listened for the sound of swords slicing through flesh as the Samurai impaled themselves in the courtyard. He knew that the Shogun would order the Asano family warriors to commit suicide. Shuichi would never see his beloved Master again. He fell asleep while his tears still fell.

;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/;/

“Wake up! I’m getting ready to leave – we have no time!”

His covers were torn from his body and a single light shone in front of him, lighting Eiri-sama’s face.

“Shishou-sama?” Shuichi was glad he had worn robes to bed. His injury was not visible to his Master’s eyes.

The Ronin took a deep breath and sat down with folded legs before his chigo. “We don’t have a lot of time. I need to ask you something very important. I want you to make a decision. Are you awake?”

Rubbing his eyes and mirroring his Master’s position. The chigo moved slowly, masking the pain in his side with a large yawn. He started to stretch, but his side burst into pain making him shrink down. Eiri caught the movement and stared at Shuichi, but the boy quickly covered by answering “Yes Shishou-sama, I am!”

“Good. Listen to me closely.” Eiri continued. “The Shogun has not ordered our suicide. Instead he has given us a choice. We can either enter into his service and become Imperial Samurai, or go off into Nippon and become whatever we choose to be. Ronin. I’ve made my choice. I’m leaving this city, and offering you the chance to go with me. Shuichi-kun, if you do, the road will be very dangerous.

“Ōishi-sama, myself, and 45 other Samurai have decided to leave and become Ronin. We were given orders by the Shogun not to take revenge upon Kira-dono for the death of our Daimyo.”

Eiri lowered his voice and moved in close to Shuichi, glancing around them quickly.

“We intend to follow the Bushido code. Do you understand?”

Shuichi did understand. The 46 Ronin that were to leave the household with Ōishi-sama were planning to kill Kira-dono for what he had done to Asano-dono, defying the Shogun’s orders. It meant that Eiri would eventually be forced to commit suicide, or would be killed by one of the Imperial Samurai, but Shuichi might be able to change his mind in the meantime. It was worth the time it would buy him.

“Yes Sishou-sama, I understand.”

Eiri stood and began pacing around the room. His thoughts rolled in turmoil. There were so many things to take care of, so many plans to form. “Good. If you come with me, I will continue to teach you. I’ll keep you at my side. But you will no longer be working towards the honor of becoming a Samurai yourself one day. You will never attain that glory and must give up that dream. I ask much of you, but…”

Eiri stopped and took a deep breath. He had grown very fond on his chigo in the time they’d spent together. Shuichi was a talented acolyte, a pleasurable companion for his bed, and a pleasing singer. The Samurai knew he was being selfish, coming to the young man and asking him to leave with him like this. He could at least be happy in the knowledge that Shuichi had a good chance to make a life for himself after they had their revenge on Kira-dono.

Before he could finish, Shuichi stood up and began gathering his few belongings, laying them out on his bed roll. Again, working under the guise that he was tired, he kept his injury hidden from the Samurai. Eiri had enough to worry about. The last thing he needed was to add an injured companion to his list.

“Shuichi-kun, you didn’t let me finish.” Eiri put his hand on the chigo’s shoulder, stopping him.

“There’s no need, Shishou-sama. I’m going with you. I know you need to gather your belongings. Should I meet you at your room or somewhere else?”

This was another trait that Eiri liked about the younger man, although at times it could be annoying. When Shuichi made up his mind, nothing could change it.

“Meet me at the courtyard entrance to my room.” He turned and began to leave.

Shuichi reached out to grab his master’s arm, but Eiri was too quick for him. He had intended to say aloud the words he’d kept inside for far too long, but once again the moment seemed to have escaped him. His heart felt as if it broke in his chest, making the pain in his side seem non-existent.

Eiri caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. Raising one eyebrow in question, he looked at his chigo and waited for an explanation.

Shuichi snapped his jaw shut and blinked, realizing he would be able to say what was on his mind. “Um, I just wanted to tell you that…” His voice grew softer as he spoke and tears began to threaten. All the emotions of the night threatened to overwhelm him. Swallowing hard, he began again. “It’s just, we’ve been with each other for a long time, and I wanted you to know how I feel…about you…” Once again, his voice faded away.

The Samurai walked back to Shuichi’s side and reached out to touch his face.

Eiri was always rough with his chigo, but tonight, instead of crushing the smaller man to his body, he gently threaded his fingers through his hair, while his other arm wrapped around his back, tugging him closer. Eiri stood holding him, waiting for Shuichi to calm down.

The smaller man leaned his head against the Samurai’s chest and began to cry. He knew he was making a mess of himself, but couldn’t help it. By nature, Shuichi was an emotional person. His attempts to say ‘I love you’ coupled with the events of the past few hours were just too much for him. He bit his lip and tried to catch his breath while Eiri stood patiently holding him.

Shuichi worked up his courage and lifted his head, quickly wiping away his tears before claiming a kiss. He winced in pain, but this time to cover it he became more aggressive in his affection, pulling Eiri closer and tighter. They held on for a few moments, letting the world around them pass by. Shuichi tried to let his kiss say what his words couldn’t. He hoped his master understood that this one simple kiss was so much more than just a meeting of lips.

With that Eiri was gone, and Shuichi was left to continue packing his meager belongings. He stood in the middle of his room and for few minutes, taking deep calming breaths. The kiss had centered him somewhat, and he felt he could now focus on getting ready to leave.

The chigo walked around his small room and gathered his items. Among them were a flute, a few weapons, candles, ink, brush and scrolls, some clothing, some personal items, and the few precious gifts Eiri had given him over the time they’d known each other. He rolled everything up tight into his bedroll and strapped it securely onto his back, wincing in pain occasionally.

His side wasn’t feeling any better as time passed. Instead, the bruising seemed to be getting worse, so Shuichi tried to favor it more, walking with care. He waited silently on the porch outside Eiri-sama’s room in the small square-shaped courtyard.

This courtyard was for the Samurai rooms, and many had people waiting at the doors. Ōishi-sama was already leaving with a Geisha, as were several others. Some Samurai were leaving alone, and some took entire families with them; wives and children. A few left with young male lovers at their sides.

The sun would rise soon, and Shuichi sat on the porch in silence, waiting for his Master to emerge. He didn’t have to wait long before Eiri-sama opened his door and stepped out into the pre-dawn light. He was dressed in his riding clothes, but with his weapons within reach.

“Let’s go. My three horses are ready and waiting for us. We’ll stop in the city to buy supplies and then start looking for a place to live. Ōishi-sama is going to Kyoto, so we’re heading towards one of the distant northern coastal towns.”

Shuichi stood up and followed close behind Eiri-sama. As they walked, he took time to look around them at the home he’d grown up in. His mother had been a servant in this house, and his father one of the Samurai. He’d been raised with many opportunities made available to him, the greatest of all to become a chigo under Eiri-sama, and someday a Samurai himself. But now he was climbing into a saddle to ride out of the gates one last time. Chances were he would never set foot within this home again, nor would he ever become a Samurai.

As the sun finally rose, Eiri led them out into the city of Edo. Shuichi watched his Master closely, noticing the Samurai never once looked back after they passed through the gates of their former home. Resolving to have the same strength, the chigo did the same and sat as tall in his saddle as his injury would allow.

The city began to wake up around them. Lanterns were extinguished and gates were opened, showing early shoppers available wares. Making their way to the markets, the weary men purchased supplies knowing that they would have to sacrifice some speed if they were to travel the distance Eiri-sama had in mind. The spare horse was to be laden heavy with packages containing mostly dried fruits, fish and meat, rice, spices, teas and herbs, cooking pots and pans, as well as some medical supplies.

Shuichi had saved up a bit of money over the years, and decided to use some of it now to purchase a biwa. Although he’d become quite good at playing the flute, he was unable to sing while playing it. The biwa, a lute, would allow him to sing to his master while he accompanied himself.

Eiri watched him make the purchase and laughed. “Planning on gouging out your eyes and becoming a priest?”

Smirking, Shuichi ran his fingers over the decorative inlaid wood before securing the instrument to his saddle. “That would be more appropriate for your brother, wouldn’t it Shishou-sama?” They were referring to the blind priests that use to play the biwa many centuries ago, and to Eiri’s younger brother who was living a life devoted to Buddha.

“If my brother were to blind himself, it would prevent him from indulging in his favorite pastime. Harassing beautiful young men. Hurry up. Let’s move on to the next store.”

They continued shopping, Eiri allowing Shuichi to handle most of the transactions. The younger man was good at haggling down the prices and finding the best deals. He also had a good eye for picking out items they would need as they traveled. The Samurai found himself appreciating the boy’s good sense when he saw him purchase a large jar of thick oil, knowing it would come in handy in the wilds.

All Samurai were well versed in many different skills, not just those of the warrior. Eiri-sama was an accomplished hunter, poet, botanist, writer, musician and healer, among many other trades. He had passed much of his knowledge on to Shuichi, and intended to continue to do so as long as they were together. His chigo had a thirst for knowledge, although the boy’s physical attributes leaned towards the weaker side. With much practice, he had the potential to become well skilled with the light crossbow, and his prowess with a wakizashi could be honed into something passable.

As they stood in one of the shopping districts, Eiri noticed a change in the air around them. The market, which was a bustling center of activity, suddenly quieted down. Loud sounds of bartering, calls of prices and enticement, were turning to whispers. He looked around and saw that eyes were purposely avoiding him.

It seemed as though the news of the events of the previous night was finally making its way through the streets of Edo. In the past, Eiri had been regarded with respect and honor. Now, he was Ronin, and was treated as one feared. He was an unknown, and the people of the city would rather he finish his business and leave.

His mood had been strangely calm to this point, as if what was happening hadn’t really set in yet. Seeing the people of Edo grow silent and weary around him seemed to snap something inside the Samurai, and his quiet complacency was gone, replaced with a barely contained rage.

“Let’s get going now!” Eiri’s voice boomed through the air, cowering those around him. He would not let their attitude dictate a change in him. He was still a Samurai! He was still bound by the Bushido code, and would live his life with honor! These peasants were beneath him, and had no right to turn their noses up at him!

The chigo quickly packed up the last bundle on their pack horse and mounted his saddle, biting the inside of his mouth hard against the pain in his side. He tasted a bloom of blood, but ignored it. They made their way through the silent streets quickly, forcing the crowds to part for their steeds until they reached one of the Northern Gates. In the same manner as they exited the Asano house, the left the city of Edo behind them, without so much as a glance backwards.

Eiri set a good pace for their horses, slowing them down from a gallop to a steady canter after a while. Normally such a speed would have been simple for Shuichi to maintain, but the injury in his side was throbbing with pain and caused him to gasp for air while he slid in his saddle. The noises he made were lost with the pounding of the hooves as they moved North-West into the wilds of Nippon.

They continued on for what seemed like forever, stopping only to allow the horses to cool down every couple of hours. When it came time to break for lunch, they let the horses walk free by a lake while Eiri pulled out some dried fruit and fish. Sharing some fresh water, they didn’t speak much.

Shuichi sat and observed his Master closely. Eiri-sama was furious, his anger barely contained. The chigo had seen him angry many times in the past, but never to this extent before. He looked like he was ready to explode, as if the slightest provocation could provoke him to kill. Rather than tell his Master about the injury to his side, Shuichi continued to remain silent.

The Samurai methodically chewed and swallowed his food and drank his water. Staring off at the lake, he ignored most of his surroundings, his mind replaying the events of the past 12 hours over and over again. His hands itched for blood.

Ōishi-sama told them to be patient. He said they would gather again when it was time to take revenge for their Daimyo, but Eiri found the idea of waiting unacceptable. They were Samurai! They should have marched upon Kira-dono’s house immediately!

Eiri sighed. He knew that had they attacked Kira-dono they would have been instantly slaughtered. The man had fortified his house in a show of cowardice, knowing his life was at risk
Ōishi-sama insisted the Ronin that stood with him go out and make lives for themselves, convincing Kira-dono that they were not interested in revenge. Their intention was to get Kira-dono to lower his defenses. Once that happened, they would make their move.

Shuichi walked to the lake to splash water on his face. As the day moved forward, the heat began to affect him, making him feel hotter and hotter. The pain in his side had receded a bit as they sat, but the chigo was not looking forward to the next leg of their journey. Cantering was an easier speed to handle. The smooth movement of the horse caused him to slide back and forth in his saddle. But when they slowed to a trot he was forced to post, lifting himself up and lowering himself down with each stride. This caused stress on his side that was becoming unbearable. As with any journey, they were forced to switch back and forth between speeds at different times. It was hell on the young man.

Eiri motioned for them to leave. Shuichi bit his lip as he climbed onto his horse and followed the Ronin back onto the road.

“Shishou-sama, do you know where we are heading?”

“Akito, by the Northern coast. We’ll settle there for now.”

“But Shishou-sama, isn’t that outside the Shogun’s territory?”

“Of course it is!” Eiri’s voice had a biting edge to it. “Now be quiet and let me think!”

Shuichi immediately fell silent. He had no desire to provoke the Samurai any further. Eiri-sama would explain his choice when he was ready, not before. Shuichi would just have to accept this for now.

Akito was a many-day’s journey from where they were, hundreds of miles to the north. It could possibly take them a month or longer to get there. That explained why Eiri-sama had purchased so many supplies and spoken of stopping in many small villages along the way.

Despite the length of their journey and the extreme pain in his side, Shuichi felt his heart pound with excitement. He had never been so far away from Edo before. Kyoto had been his furthest journey, truly nothing when compared to the distance they were to cover by the time the reached the city of Akito. It was like moving to another world, and the chigo wondered just how different it would really be.

They continued riding for the rest of the day, alternating between keeping their horses at a canter and a trot. They were able to cover many miles in this manner, putting much distance between themselves and their old lives.

Eiri barely spoke as they rode, other than to occasionally curse Kira-dono’s name or demand to know why fate had twisted him so. The anger surrounding him was nearly physical, and Shuichi did his best to stay as far away as possible, not wanting to feel any of that anger directed at him.

Already, it felt as if their time at the Asano manor was part of another lifetime. The chigo couldn’t help but think that most of this day passed as if in a dream, the landscapes melting into one another as they flew through them. They stopped once more to eat and rest, and the heat seemed to rise within him rather than lower as the day went on.

“We’ll ride just a little more and camp for the night. It’s my intention to avoid villages for a few more days and camp outdoors.” The sun was already failing and dusk settling in around them when Eiri spoke. He turned to look at his chigo just in time to see the younger man slump in his saddle and fall to the side, hitting the ground hard.

Pulling up on the reigns, he jumped from his horse and ran back to Shuichi’s side. He was lying on the ground unconscious.

Eiri had been in this area of the woods before with his troops, and knew there to be a stream nearby. Putting Shuichi before him on his horse, he led the three steeds a little further to the water’s edge and set up camp for the night. His companion was feverish and having difficulty breathing, so Eiri worked fast to make him comfortable.

By the time night had fallen, their camp was well set. He laid Shuichi out on the bedroll and began undressing him, looking for the source of his illness. Immediately, the bruise on this boy’s side was revealed. Cursing under his breath, Eiri examined him to see how bad the injury was.

The good news was that no bones seemed to be broken, and his lung was not punctured. It was a harsh bruise made worse by a day of intense riding and hard stress. Shuichi had pushed himself to keep up with the Samurai, making himself ill.

Eiri brought back two cooking pots of clean water. One he kept cool and used for a cloth across Shuichi’s forehead, hoping to bring down the fever. The other he used to brew a medicinal tea for the chigo to drink once he awoke.

Shuichi’s fever-effected dreams had him back at the manor. He was in his room trying to wake up for Eiri-sama. Deft fingers flew over his naked skin, leaving behind trails of erotic fire, arousing and enticing him. His blood rushed through his body, making him feel hotter and hotter, and he struggled to wake so he could wrap his arms around his lover’s body, drawing them closer together. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind refused to let go of sleep, and those fingers continued to tease, tease, tease.

Eiri brushed his hand against Shuichi’s face – the skin beneath his fingers hot with fever. His boy gasped at the touch and began to wake.

When his eyes opened, he expected to find himself at home in his bedroll, the ceiling to his room above his head. Instead, the roof above him moved with firelight dancing on tree branches, stars peeking as soft night breezes pushed everything back and forth. He was under a light blanket lying on his back, Eiri-sama to the side stirring something in a pot.

“Do you know where you are?”

Shuichi swallowed, his throat fighting against the lack of moisture. “Um, I think so. We’re heading north to Akito, right?”

“Right. Want to tell me what happened to your side?”

Shuichi flinched with the question and peeked under the sheet. His riding clothes had been changed out to a light robe, and a strange smell was coming from his side. The pain was less, and had been replaced with an odd numbness.

“I’m sorry Shishou-sama. It was an Imperial Samurai. He hit me with a bamboo rod last night.” The chigo sat up gingerly and lowered his eyes in shame.

“Did anyone look at you before this?” Eiri-sama’s voice was level and cold; the kind of voice he used when speaking with one of lower rank who was wasting his time.

“No Shishou-sama. I looked at it myself.”

“I didn’t see any bandaging or ointment. You looked, decided nothing was wrong, and that was it?”

“Something like that.”

“Hn.” Eiri lifted the pot from the fire and poured a small cup. “Drink this. All of it.”

Shuichi sipped the foul smelling tea. It was bitter and made his tongue tingle. “What is it?”

“It’s made of huang lian and skullcap. It will help lower your fever and heal you. I rubbed aconite on your side to help reduce the swelling.” Suddenly Eiri moved in on him fast. “Listen to me closely. What happened today was unacceptable. If we’re going to be together, we have to depend on each other. I can’t have you getting sick or hurt and not telling me!”

Eiri stood and stormed over to the water’s edge. After all that had happened with their former home, knowing that Shuichi had withheld his injury and illness infuriated the former-Samurai.

“We need to keep one another well informed of everything that’s happening. If you’re hurt or sick, you have to tell me immediately. Our trip should have taken us a few weeks, but now we’ll have to slow down so you can heal. If you had been wrapped properly, if we had dealt with your fever, tonight you could have been sitting at the fire’s edge singing to me instead of having me tend to you like a woman.”

He walked back to the chigo’s side and dropped to his knees. Shuichi was cowed by the Ronin’s anger. Eiri didn’t want to be abusive, but needed to get his point across to the younger man. This situation needed to never occur again. He reached out and took Shuichi’s hand. “Injuries will happen. Illnesses will happen. We’ll deal with them together. Swear to me that you’ll always come to me and tell me what’s happening, even if you think I’ll be angry with you.”

Squeezing Eiri-sama’s hand tight, Shuichi nodded. “I promise. I will. I’m sorry Shishou-sama. I didn’t want to burden you.”

With a sigh, Eiri handed Shuichi his tea again and encouraged him to drink more. “What do you think you are now? You’re more of a burden than had you been honest from the beginning. Tomorrow, we’ll keep the horses at a canter as much as possible, and stop when you need to. Keep drinking.”

The chigo turned up his nose at the tea. It was extremely bitter.

“It’s the huang lian that’s so bitter. Drink it.”

Pinching his nose, Shuichi downed the contents of the cup quickly, grimacing when he was done. He handed Eiri the cup and laid back down, wincing with pain.

“Don’t get comfortable. I still have to wrap you. Come over here.”

“I really am sorry Shishou-sama. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.” Shuichi stood slowly, wincing and crying out with pain. He walked to Eiri’s side, waiting to be told what do to next.

“You’re always trouble. Whether you’re dropping your katana, missing breakfast, or hurting yourself so you can’t sing, all you are is trouble.” There was mischief in his voice again, and Shuichi smiled.

“Can’t sing? Who says I can’t sing?” He opened his mouth wide, and Eiri wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Don’t you dare strain yourself any further boy! There’s been enough of that. Any more and I’ll be forced to find a Geisha to travel with us, just to keep me happy while you heal.”

Shuichi pouted and slapped the older man on the arm. “You do that and I’ll show you the real meaning of the word burden.” It was rare that they joked so intimately. Eiri-sama normally carried himself so much higher, that even when he was being touched, he was nearly untouchable. These little stolen moments were pure gold to Shuichi. Sadly, they never lasted long.

“Stand up straight and open your robe so I can wrap your side.”

Doing as he was told, Shuichi took a deep breath and held it as Eiri-sama wrapped the cloth around his middle again and again. They settled down to eat. When they were done, Eiri sat with his back against a tree. Shuichi laid down on the ground next to him, putting his head in his lap.

“I really am sorry for all the trouble I caused. But at least my side does feel better. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

Shuichi closed his eyes, but didn’t sleep. Instead he listened to the sounds of the night around them. The horses occasionally stomped their feet and huffed into the night. The wind rustled the leaves and unknown creatures went about their business. But through all these new sounds, Shuichi could hear his Master’s breathing and felt a hand stroke his neck. The chigo found it very comforting.

He drifted in and out of a feverish state before finally crawling back into his bedroll. He struggled to find a comfortable position to lie in, but Eiri joined him soon, and they found warmth being near one another. Luckily, the tea had a sedative in it, and before long, both men were sleeping through the night.

TBC….

A/N: This took a LONG time to get out. I hope it was worth the wait. It’s a little more difficult to keep them in character when doing such an A.U. story, but I hope I succeeded!!!!

Once again, special thanks go out to AshCat!!! She’s my beta, research partner (she found all the cool info on those special herbs and plants) and she constantly encourages me to write more more more!!!!

I’m not trying to stay especially historically accurate with this story. I’m dipping in and out of the realm of realism. I’m not following any one retelling of this story, and while it is a tragedy, as you can see, I didn’t put it in the tragedy sections (hint hint). If you REALLY must know how it ends, here’s a BIG hint. Eiri is the youngest of the 47 Ronin. Enough said.

See you soon!!!

~ffpanda