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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
- 20
- 21
- 22
Chapter 21:

War of the Usurpers: Part 9

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

Disclaimer: See (chapter one)

Warning: CITRIC LEMON. Semi-hardcore. R-18, so no underage readers allowed.

*

Dark grey like his dream…

The skies mirrored the turbulent storm raging inside him. Lightning hissed, thunder growled, the heavens expressed vehemence.

At dusk, Kotarou stood facing the sea wearing a grim expression. The rain had stopped but enormous gloomy clouds stay out of mere contempt.

Traces of his young master linger here. An ominous sandal with a missing pair and a broken sake jar were the telltale signs of Saburo’s state of mind.

Long lethal fingers caress the shards of ceramic on stone. He gathered them in a fist and clenched until the ragged edges tore his skin, making him bleed.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….......................

He roared.

The shards were pulverized—

TWO TIMES!

IT HAD HAPPENED TWO TIMES!

And he wasn’t there to protect him. When the traitors cornered him here… it wasn’t his half⁸⁰ that rescued him.

And now when he got himself dangerously drunk to grieve in solitary, someone else had saved him first. He was no fool. Saburo would not leave his waraji on the sand for a swim. The young lord has only one thing in mind... And if that one had not caught on time, Tono-sama would be the last scion of the Hojo, alive.

And if Tono-sama wasn’t a smidgen equally incapacitated by the hand of bereavement, he would be demanding why his otouto wasn’t in his room, resting.

It would be nightfall soon and still in his shame, he couldn’t find his wakasama.

Didn’t he learn himself how much grief could change a person? Tono-sama did not use to be that cold, detached, and passionless before the deaths of his parents and his wife altered him profoundly. Now he had to deal with the loss of a brother…

A brother that was closest to his young lord as well. The effect it brings Saburo… would be nothing short of disastrous. He should not be left alone at all costs— lest he commit…

It had already been too late for him.

By the time he arrived… Saburo would be…

“Hahaue!⁸¹”

A child screamed as he was held back by two elders. He was sobbing and yelling as he struggled against their grip.

“Hahaue! Please! Don’t!” The child continued fighting his guardians who made little effort in containing him. He was too small. Even for born shinobi, his strength was no match for grown members of the clan.

Lady Momochi, who was wearing a plain red kimono, avoided direct eye contact. She sat in the traditional position with legs folded neatly while a dagger firmly held by her hands was poised against her belly. Behind her was the kaishakunin⁸² who would assist her at the moment of agony.

A mother’s instinct made her steal a glimpse of her sons before determinedly staring straight ahead to face her people. She had chosen to die an honorable death. She had vowed to hunt and assassinate the unworthy ones who stole and learned the Sonshi’s secrets. The sacred text would never be used again by those who possess its knowledge and thus a mass execution was to be performed on keepers and felons alike.

She, being the last true keeper of the Sonshi shall perish as well.

She will take the esoteric foundations of shinobi lore to her grave.

“NO!” The boy shouted as his mother plunged the blade— her blood gushing out copiously...

The kaishakunin quickly offered the merciful blow. He slashed the honored lady’s neck so no death throes would ensue. It was done so skillfully that only a select few could accomplish it without complete decapitation.

Witnessing how life fled from his mother’s eyes equally sapped the boy’s sensibilities away. He stopped crying, merely sinking down his knees like a heavy stone falling to the ground. His reaction was a complete opposite to his twin who continued sobbing softly. Yet unlike him, Akito needs not be suppressed like a prisoner. He meekly but bravely accepted their mother’s death.

As the gathered crowd of shinobi dispersed, the child remained where he was. No amount of pulling or convincing words could make him move from the spot where he remained. And when they looked into his eyes they were driven off as if death itself gazed upon them.

Only his twin was able to embrace him without a second thought. “Aniue, let’s go home.”

The boy didn’t answer just allowed himself to be consumed by silent grief and deadly hatred. “Don’t look like that! Cry for Hahaue a little!” Akito started weeping again. “Or if you won’t…” He hiccupped. “I’ll cry for the both of us.”

His half could not know how much he saved him with those words.

If ever he should lose his brother…

He’ll kill himself.

As the future clan head of the Fuma…

That was unacceptable.

He had to distance himself, to build a wall between them. He had to hate him.

…lost.

To lose one’s brother… He and his young master would be thinking the very same thing.

So what can he do…?

How can I save you?

He squinted. For the first time in years… a familiar sting was making itself known in his eyes. Could it be that you…

…have returned me to the way I was before?

He took advantage of the solitude and gave in. Kotarou closed himself to the world and indulged himself in tears.

Hot pain and boiling anger… no… fierce jealousy woke from their long slumber.

I’ll find you.

Saburo.

XxXMOBXxX

Amber, crackling, and warmth in the form of something heavy (not to mention sweaty) rudely disturbed his much needed rest. Barely coming to, he pries off the thing encircling his torso and realized with a start his state of undress. He never slept naked.

Not once did he ever…

He froze.

Someone groaned behind him.

Blinking fully awake, he finally remembered where he was… if it was a hearth (and not a lamp in his room) that illuminated the bedrock of a cave he currently lied on then the heavy thing that currently half-draped itself on his side was the man… Naoe Nobutsuna.

Oh, what has he gotten himself into!

His head throbbed and he swallowed. His throat was very dry and hurt a bit from… he felt his face heating up in absolute embarrassment.

Did he really scream that loud?

Then… Then— something did happen between them? ! He stifled a gasp when another arm snaked itself around him and held him tighter. His fleeing attempts were further discouraged when this action caused his body to press against the man’s bare chest. They ended up facing each other.

Saburo braced himself then relaxes when he heard a soft snoring sound. The man was still asleep. He was just moving by instinct. Yet being possessively embraced in this way seems hindering his escape.

Or maybe Naoe really has no intention of letting him go.

They were enemies.

Even as they lay tangled like lovers, it does not erase that fact. He was simply deluding himself…

It didn’t matter if Nobutsuna was the first who touched him intimately. Aren’t grown men just thrilled with the hunt? Once they captured their prey their interest simply disappears.

This man, Naoe, despite his compassionate words – lies; he would still probably kill him. But…

Comely face, long dark lashes, serenely closed eyelids, straight slender nose, a slack mouth: the man’s expression was breathtakingly gentle in sleep. As if possessing a mind of their own, the youth’s fingers wander and hover; not quite making contact on the man’s cheek.

A small bruise on the jaw caught Saburo’s lingering gaze.

He had hit him… as if he owned him. Even between foes, this behavior was unheard of. Duels were settled with swords not fists… Only a master would have the right to strike his vassal.

And though Naoe did hit him back, the force was restrained. It didn’t even hurt when he could have been more violent. Such a tender man… How could he have been the assailant who attacked him and the passing entertainer who saved him at the same time?

Saburo, deep in thought has not noticed that the current object of his sole attentions now watched him in return.

A hand slowly guided his ghosting fingertips and overlapping the spaces between, covered his own. The youth was coaxed to touch the man’s face. “See something that attracts you?”

Saburo gasped. Though the fingers that entwined were gentle, the gaze that reflected his startled expression was anything but.

It scorched him to ashes.

He only wanted to avert his face and run away… “I… I wasn’t,” looking at you—“!”

Naoe suddenly pins him to the ground.

In the blazing fire, Saburo was covered by the man’s shadow. “Oh?” A bemused brow told him he might have just said those words aloud. “What does Tsune-sama want to convey by his actions?”

The lordling’s pounding head contributed further to his irritation. “I’m not…!”

His protests were ignored. Soft lips brush against a captured wrist. His tengu was just as adorable when he was irritable. “Then could it be that you wish to continue to where we left off?”

I’m not done with you, said those fiery eyes.

Saburo turns away only to unwittingly expose himself. He trembles; a soft whimper escapes his lips as a hot mouth weakens him. “Nnh…No.”

Naoe licks the old wound, wanting to possess him, all of him... “You don’t seem to care for yourself much, Saburo. Otherwise, why would you let someone do this to you?”

The youth reels into another shock. How could he have forgotten about Kotarou? How could he have let himself fall into such unguarded ease succumbing to this man’s touches?

He was… the lowest form… an utter fool.

Just how long of a moment passed? His protector was coming. No matter where he is, Kotarou would find him.

“My life, whatever happens to me… is no concern of my enemy!”

Enemy…

Naoe feels like he has been stabbed all over again. Only this time the pain was more than skin-deep. “So that’s all there is to it. I’m nothing more but an enemy to you.” What did he expect?

Naoe sighed. He loosened his hold but didn’t let go of Saburo. “Didn’t you listen to a word I said?”

“My cousin, where did you take her?” I can’t trust you…

“She is safe, that much I can assure you. No harm shall come upon her.” The man feigned calm. He had to release the youth lest his desire for him become too overwhelming. But Saburo wasn’t exactly fighting him off like a cornered animal. He was almost oddly submissive beneath the man’s larger form.

“What does the Uesugi want with her? She is a girl who lived most of her life secluded in the mountains. I doubt my brother would even spare her a thought.”

What is he…? Naoe became puzzled.

“She would have no value as a hostage. But simply asking you to hand her over would not be possible, correct?”

Saburo could not be… “I have… no value to my family as well so it wouldn’t make a difference if I trade places with her. Would you give her, her freedom if you take me instead?”

A strange emotion seized him. The sharp nonphysical pain was replaced by a slow incinerating burn. “She is that important that you would sacrifice yourself?”

“Hanaiin is innocent! A young woman should not be involved in the wars men fought!” Such desperation… Naoe was shamed to feel such a thing called jealousy for a defenseless girl but he couldn’t help it.

Jealousy and desire were a lethal combination. It made the hearts of even the most righteous men cruel. “If you have no value… then I can do whatever I want with you.” The man quietly whispered this threat like sweet nothings on his ear. He traps the youth’s arms above his head in a single grasp, straddles him and proceeds to violate him slowly.

Saburo meets Naoe’s devouring gaze. This is the man who neither saved him nor assaulted him. The passing entertainer was gentle and protective while the assailant was emotionless and cold-blooded. He had so many faces but which was the real one?

A lascivious touch sends his thoughts scattering. A finger entering a most unexpected place of his body shakes his resolve of surrender … “Uhnh… N-No!” It plunged deeper, twisting, and stroked a spot that made him spiral into heat. The familiar passion that sapped all his strength was growing again. If he were the hearth then the man would be tending the embers, painstakingly working on the flames until it consumed itself without a trace.

“Ah… Stop…” His body shuddered, spasming uncontrollably every time the man rubbed that spot. Saburo’s head thrashed, hair fanning out into messy tendrils. He obtained an enticingly disheveled appearance. “No…!”

“No?” Naoe licked the taut abdomen leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The lithe flesh of the youth couldn’t hide its trembling excitement. “One who possessed no value does not have the right to refuse.” Arduously he stimulated that erotic place, adding another finger until Saburo was gasping and shaking in heavy arousal. His own youth was being used against him.

Naoe liked him this way: flushed crimson, struggling to keep his mind on the subject of negotiation. He didn’t need to worry after all. Saburo had willingly struck the deal.

“I…!” Being violated provoked indescribable carnal sensations. That a man could be pleasured inside… came as a shock to him.

A restless need ate at him. He craved for something more than thrusting fingers turning him into a writhing mess.

“Promise me…” He said breathlessly. “Promise me that… when I agree to be your hostage, you will release my cousin!”

The beast inside the man growled. Even at a time like this! He thinks of her! Reining in control, Naoe tonelessly responded. “Rest assured.” Then he buried them deep causing the youth to groan.

Saburo clawed the fabric at the abrupt pain. “That…”

“Hurts?” Naoe supplied, withdrawing from the tight passage. A little blood was mixed with the body fluid. Making certain he watched; the man sucked them off in front of a wide-eyed virgin. “Tell me Saburo. Have you not taken a man inside you?” A question, it was not. The man already knew the answer and yet he does only to assert dominance.

Saburo’s heart thudded rapidly at the sight of Naoe tasting his… He couldn’t say it— not even in his thoughts did he imagine a man wanting to ingest another man’s… After he… But that place was unclean wasn’t it? So why does Naoe appear to be enjoying it?

Was it some sick perversion? To his shame, Saburo finds himself unable to stop watching. He swallowed dryly.

“It will hurt. If you allow me to do what I want with you, your untried body will suffer first before it achieves rapture. Fortunately I have the remedy.”

The youth observes the man take the bottle of salve he had used on his wounds earlier and in liberal amounts, coats his entire hand in it.

“Like I said, I have no value. So it doesn’t matter.” His words do not make sense. Yet Naoe feels that it was spoken from the heart and was believed to be the truth. Another pang of emotion rips him apart. Why does he ache so? Why does this youth evoke such pain in his soul?

“A protector shielded you from me. If you have no value, a shadow would not carelessly show itself.” I knew he is coming but you are mine now. I will make certain he understands. Satisfied with Saburo’s following gaze, Naoe trails his hand slowly and grasps himself. After this… his touch would no longer be enough to stave the hunger.

If it were possible, Saburo turns even redder at the seductive display. He gulps when the intentions of the man’s fevered stroking finally hit him.

Naoe was massive.

His hard flesh was frighteningly engorged. The way it pointed upwards, straining into depravity was sexually menacing. For a moment, blind panic made Saburo want nothing to do with this.

I’m not letting you get away. Naoe’s desire-filled stare pierced him, freezing him in place.

Not so gentle hands grabbed his ankles and spread his legs. Saburo felt his modesty dying a painful death when the words, “Don’t look!” and “It’s not meant to be stared in that way!” caught in his throat. He only managed to keep his mouth hanging open and the ever-present blush to taint his cheeks. He leaned backwards on his elbows as he scrambled for balance. Only the bunched robe underneath could offer the poorest of cushions.

His legs were raised high in the air and no amount of kicking or back paddling would successfully keep his avid pursuer away.

Naoe did the next unthinkable… He licked the soles of his feet that were scraped raw from walking barefoot. Saburo hissed at the peculiar ticklish and arousing sensation. What is seriously wrong with this man? Naoe seems to find the dirtiest places of his body attractive! “Sick… pervert.” The lordling murmured though he also secretly liked it.

The skilled mouth travelled from the tips of his toes, to his calves, to his knees and higher up to his thighs. Naoe palmed the bend of his legs and lifted him until his face was level with the puckered bud of his… backside. He flicked his tongue on the damp hole and when the tip wriggled against the sensitive ring, Saburo uttered a high-pitched moan.

“Uhh!” Two fingers reentered, making him suddenly loud. It teased him again, probing his readiness for the act and additionally making him slippery wet. He gasped. Naoe was coating him… preparing him to be sundered.

As Naoe withdrew for the second and last time, Saburo happened to see the man’s agonized expression. The point of no return slammed into him. The forming word of protest on his lips dwindled and came out as a harsh groan when Naoe entered him.

Pain.

Burning pain…

Gradual and increasing, made the youth shut his eyes and let out stuttering wounded moans. Despite being aroused and tended well, the ache far outweighed any pleasant sensation. “Wa…it. N…Not… so... Unhh…!” He uttered in pained rasps. He felt that a massive thing was plowing relentlessly into him about to tear him apart.

Naoe bruised his hips and licked the pearls of sweat below his chin. “Bear… it. A little… longer. I’m almost…” He pushed and pushed, making the youth cry out this time. Prolonging the agony would not be good on them both. “I promise… once you get used to it… I will make you drown so much… you’ll never want to stop.”

A warm fluid trickled out of his inner thigh and Saburo knew at once that he was bleeding. Bear it. He’s right… As a man you must! He was starting to become dazed. Each shuddering breath he took made the suffering ebb into nothingness.

The blood, bodily fluids, and the salve soon combined to ease the man’s retreating and advancing hips. Naoe mercifully started on him slow and controlled. His thrusting was moderated in such a way as if Saburo was slowly being filled and emptied… filled and emptied… filled and emptied…

The youth exhaled a shaky sigh.

It was starting… The promised wonders of the flesh were beginning to swell into him like a pregnant woman’s belly. He bit his lip, his lovely face was creased in torture, and he had trouble heaving between ragged breaths.

Naoe knew better. His beloved youth was in agony…

Of the pleasure wrought into his being…

Naoe could feel it too. The answering grip of that sensitive ring to every snap of his hips was genuine proof. Saburo was on the path to take satisfaction in their fervid coupling.

“Don’t keep it in. You have to let those screams out.” Naoe’s sinful lips cajoled. He intensified the rhythm of his thrusts, abusing one particular ridge inside the youth’s passage. Saburo gasped louder and louder. Fiercely, he was mated over and over. “Aahh…! Ahh!” He yelled senselessly… The dance of passion had robbed him of his mind.

“That’s it… Cry only for me.” Naoe himself was on the throes of anguish. As he violated the depths of Saburo’s body the more he was consumed… He’s too tight… Tighter now that I’m giving him what he wants.

If this continues…

“You know… you’re not making love to some… maiden.”

Did he hear that right?

Naoe extricated a part of himself from the heat of the moment to process this… bold statement. As he peered into the unfocused liquid gaze of Saburo he could only blame lingering drunkenness. If he were in his right mind, the reluctantly reserved youth would never…

“Naoe… if you don’t… do it…” Slender hips meeting his every thrust, “…harder, I won’t…”reach it! Rippling insides begging him… demanding him… urging him for more.

The man absently lessened his movements. A little depravity drove his nameless flings mad. He could only imagine what it would do to an unusually needy Saburo. His hand gathers long moist strands of raven hair and suddenly almost roughly tugs forward.

The youth nearly grimaced from the sting on his scalp. Naoe forced him closer until Saburo’s wavering eyes clashed against Naoe’s smoldering gaze. “I have hurt you. There is blood between your legs… How could you ask for more?” Do you really not care for yourself? As much as I want to take you with abandon… I can’t.

Despite the pain, it was far too dull now compared to the blissful sensations this man showers upon him. Mischief, noble arrogance sparkled in the youth’s eye. As if in the tide of war, the tables have been turned. “Nobutsuna, have you not taken an untempered youth, such as myself?”

“You are indeed…” incorrigible. Naoe silences that unruly mouth.

When he had plundered the sake-flavored lips and tongue, the man pressed Saburo fully onto his back.

Panting, bruised lips, half-lidded tiger’s eyes watches his looming presence. “How can I hold back when you provoked me, yourself?” Skin to skin, blood to blood… Naoe drives into him madly as he pinions him to the ground.

Wet sucking sounds, helpless cries, limbs twitching and shaking… Sweat oozing out from every pore of his skin. He does not recognize himself at all. In and out… In and out… Rapidly, the man was shredding his quivering insides. Persistently and thoroughly, Naoe copulated with him.

Amidst the myriad of sensations, a familiar numbness crept on the youth’s thighs spreading on his jerking hips and convulsing abdomen. Desperate hands raked the man’s back…

“I…”

“I…!—”

“I’m going… to…!”

Naoe continuously rammed inside him. And then when he was fully sheathed, sundered the youth’s most sensitive spot repeatedly and with frantic strokes of his hips.

Eyes screwed shut, jaw forcefully lifted; Saburo’s face twisted in ecstasy. He felt a drop or two of fluid drench his depths…

He went wild beneath the man as wave after wave of throbbing pleasure crashed into him. He was coming and coming hard; his body shooting upwards… taking the man’s essence that continued to overflow in his heightening passion.

“Saburo…” Naoe called deliriously as he emptied himself.

But the youth barely heard him. A drop of stone somewhere had distracted him… At the mouth of the cave was a shadow. It was the outline of a lean, tall man that seized Saburo’s attention.

As the figure approached, the lordling hastened to detach himself reluctantly to the body that gave him warmth.

As joined flesh separated, Saburo winced when trapped semen and blood flowed out.

Recovering only a little, Naoe asked, “Saburo? What’s wrong?”

Saburo did not answer. He was already staggering to his unsteady feet. He rises to cover Naoe, pushing him behind to face the intruder.

“Wakasama,”

Saburo looked into dark obsidian orbs that were anything but emotionless.

“Kotarou.”

A tremor ran across his naked body as he said that name. He could not address him in the way a master imperiously calls his servant. The strength that he easily wields was recently absorbed by another.

Powerless…

Kotarou was not looking at him, however. Eyes trained into the darkness were tracing the trickling wetness sliding down his legs…

Blood and come… The sight of it makes the shinobi’s pupils dilate. He could only fixate on the one responsible.

A kunai’s edge shone in the flames.

“NO!” Saburo held out a shaking hand as if in a pleading gesture before his protector could move. “Kotarou, this man has become my servant. You have no reason to draw your weapon!”

“Saburo, what are you…?” Naoe felt a hand pushing him to retreat. Though he never feared for his safety, the pulses of the intruder’s chi were indeed alarming.

As if he had not heard him, the protector said in a silent deadly tone, “Wakasama has been violated by that man. I cannot forgive him.”

“Are you disobeying a direct order? At ease you foolish servant!” Cold fear wrapped around Saburo’s heart even as he yelled, indignant. Kotarou seems different than ever before. His flat demeanor did not match something coming to life in his eyes. Staring back defiantly into them made him feel being eaten alive.

“Wakasama, please stand aside. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Kotarou spoke in the same manner as he advanced.

His words gave Saburo the idea for an unlikely proposition. “No. If you wish to kill him, you have to go through me first.” He gave Kotarou a distorted smile, both sad and haughty at the same time. Saburo, arms spread started walking towards his stubborn protector. If they shall meet halfway…

As this exchange unfolded, Naoe could only continue to watch in silence. He seems apart from their world somehow…

Master and servant paused to regard each other. “My beloved contract, I have betrayed you by sleeping with another man. But it was my desire! It was my desire from the very beginning! So kill me. I am the one at fault. The taking of my life should be enough to appease you… for isn’t the one, who kills, possesses the other in the end?”

Kotarou’s expressionless mask faltered, contorting bit by bit then fractured into a hundred pieces. He deeply frowned… Saburo had ultimately broken him. Haven’t you done enough? A man’s true anger and jealousy now showed themselves. “Saburo, you do not know what you are doing to me.”

The lordling recoiled as if he had been physically struck. Kotarou… Kotarou was… Kotarou was not himself?

Naoe had seen too late. He couldn’t even shout in warning as the shinobi moved so fast and had wrapped himself on the youth’s nude body. Saburo gasped in surprise. He felt a prick on his skin as his protector held him in an embrace. Immediately his vision blurred. “What are…you… what… did you…?” His knees sagged and Kotarou followed him.

“I shall not kill you. Your betrayal is far too great… Didn’t you say that you shall not let me off easy? Then I will not show you the mercy of death as well⁸³.” As he said this, Saburo felt a second mouth plunder him against his will. “Mmhh…!” He struggled as he was made to drink something in the exchange of oral fluids. As he tasted the substance’s deceiving sweetness, his remaining strength left him.

Kotarou laid him gently on the ground. He was still awake but his sight was fading and his body refused to move under his command.

When the shinobi walked to confront his rival, a weak hand closed around his ankle. Kotarou looked down to find a tearful determined gaze. Please don’t.

Saburo closed his eyes and lost consciousness. I beg you…

Kotarou’s brow creased for the last time then he put the blank mask back into place.

“Were you the one who gave him that wound? Then it’s no surprise that he clearly wants me more than you. After all, he gave me his innocence,” were the last things Naoe said before a blow to his head struck so hard he blanked out for an instant. He staggered to the ground. It wasn’t the… the sex that made him function at half-strength. He had no intention of resisting from the start.

“You and your filthy hands have no right to touch the young master.” Kotarou replied in his familiar monotone. He let out blow after bone-crushing blow, uncaring to use a weapon.

Naoe let those strikes bruise, hurt, and almost incapacitate him. He was spitting blood, black and blue and yet Kotarou still did not stop in his powerful assaults.

He can barely stand by the time the shinobi was done with him. But both of them knew that Naoe had won. Though he lay defeated on the bedrock of the cave, Naoe was still the victor. You won’t kill me.

Because of this, he will be able to carry out his plan. He had taken the one he loves and at the same time will be able to take some more from the impregnable castle that was Odawara-jo.

As Naoe’s consciousness drifted into oblivion he felt a smile gracing his torn and bloody lips.

TBC~

80 – He means his twin; sweet.

81 – Mother: in the old Japanese tongue.

82 – The appointed second who assists someone who commits seppuku or ritual suicide out of honor.

83 – This line was directly taken from Saburo. (See end of chapter 7) Saburo said this to Kotarou when the former refused the latter’s death.

Post A/N: A sexually bold Saburo sounds wrong, right? No. He had not suffered rape in chapter 11 thanks to Naoe! (Where were you, Kotarou?) And so he normally desires intimacy without the backlash. You agree, right? Yes? Good. Now please review! XD

END OF 2^ND ARC
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400 Years Apart