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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
- 23
- 24
- 25
Chapter 24:

ULTIMARINA, Pearl in the Deep: Part 2

A/N: Loved by her beloved, loved by all men, she weighed herself down the sea; never to return to the land of the rising sun.

Warning: YAOI. LEMON. Semi-hardcore. No underaged readers please. If you’re below 18 you can’t read, sorry. Kotarou X Saburo, so if you’re offended by this pairing better NOT read as well.

...

“Do you want to know how he was... spirited away by the Takeda?”

“Without telling you anything, I think he is being kept there somewhere.”

“You see the whole picture? Each and everyone has their trump. Do you know what this means?”

...

As the pair of shadows were kept waiting outside, Matsuda Hideharu can’t help but still wonder why. Tono-sama chooses to be vague as he presented things. Does his hope have to rest on a supposition? A mere conjecture that perhaps... he, their great general, their daimyo’s younger brother, Hojo Ujiteru was...

He didn’t even want to contemplate finishing that thought.

It would be too painful to be proven wrong.

The true reason for Tono-sama’s capability of laughter once again... was it truly because he had not perished as all of them were made to believe?

He was thrown pieces of theory to ponder over (A prelude to a reward: knowing Ujiteru’s real fate) and then all of a sudden, the master of the realm involves him further into something he believes has completely nothing to do with his assigned task.

...Or so he assumed.

“Akito, you can now let them in.”

“As you dictate, Tono-sama.”

The shock must have been apparent on Hideharu’s face before he could smother it. For behind the paper screens stood the precious youth he was responsible in mentoring. Dressed in fine black kamishimo was Saburo and a little behind him was his chosen protector, the Clan Head of the Fuma, Kotarou.

If the youth mirrored his expression in seeing him, he was certainly better at hiding it or maybe his fragile state showed more. Saburo looked dejected... eerily quite like a young man who had resigned himself to his doom. He seemed tired and ill. His skin was too pale to be healthy, his face gaunt, downcast eyes a little darker around the edges and he had a strained slow gait as if he was dragging one painful step and another towards his clan lord.

Watching him behave almost subservient to his only remaining sibling causes a strange ache to well in the pit of Hideharu’s stomach. Saburo was like a stranger who never had confidence to win the grace of his aniue. It was no wonder why Ujiteru doted so much on him. This dynamic between Ujimasa and Saburo must not have escaped Ujiteru’s notice. Thus he might have tried to fill the emptiness, to lessen the scarcity of familial love to a child so starved of it especially after the initial loss of his parents.

Hideharu knew it was not his position to interfere or state his opinion about this delicate matter between the esteemed kin but Tono-sama’s consistent coldness towards Saburo was inappropriate and much undeserved. As the direct and eldest surviving scion of the Hojo, wasn’t it his duty to care for the youngest and assume the role of a parent?

“Good evening, Aniue.” Saburo bowed, saying quietly in greetings. “To what honor have I been called to be in your presence?”

“Dishonor.” Ujimasa rectifies quickly, making the boy flinch. His eyes pinion the youth before he turns to the shadow. “Kotarou, where did you find this willful whelp?”

“I found him in a cave near the coast, Tono-sama.” The shinobi answers in a flat monotone.

“Saburo, you went missing in bed to the alarmed horrors of the caretakers, Yuri-san and Sayori-san, driving the entire castle mad looking for you. For all we know you might have been kidnapped by the enemy just like Hanaiin. What in the wrath of gods were you doing inside a cave!” Ujimasa thundered in rebuke not once losing his authoritative composure despite his fury.

Saburo throws a discomfited glance at Hideharu’s direction and becomes silent.

Hideharu understood at once what that look meant. It was a question or rather many:

Why was he here?

Why was a non-family member invited inside this exclusively private chambers?

Why was he seated beside the daimyo as if they were equals?

Why was he allowed to linger when he should have been dismissed before Saburo was summoned?

The youth had no inkling that Hideharu himself asked those very same questions.

“Answer, Saburo!” demanded an impatient daimyo.

The youth’s face blanches some more if that were possible, he fearfully meets his brother’s eyes and stammers, “I... I...”

“Can you not give me the answers yourself? Would you like Kotarou to speak on your behalf?” The seemingly harmless suggestion spikes immediate alarm on the youth.

“No! I, no aniue!” Saburo awkwardly catches himself before he could disclose his guilt further. “There was a heavy downpour, I took momentary shelter inside. And then Kotarou found me.”

For a moment, the anger faded and he seemed to accept the statement until, “Is that true, Kotarou?”

Saburo resisted the urge to give his protector a pleading look. His heart was beating so fast, his belly was in knots and he thought he would really be sick.

There was a lump in his throat.

The shinobi slowly shook his head. “No, Tono-sama.”

“No?” Ujimasa repeated, his voice dropping into a low dangerous whisper, “Kotarou, are you saying that Saburo dares lie to me?”

“It is as I said, Tono-sama.” The shadow replies neither denying or confirming his previous statement.

Hideharu was incredulous. Is this man really the youth’s protector? If he were in the shinobi’s place he would certainly lie. I would lie for Ujiteru! I’d lie for him even if it costs me my life!

Would he lie for his current contract, their daimyo? A little voice inside his head challenged making him lose the motivation to interfere yet again.

“Saburo, should I ask you one more time or should I ask Kotarou why you were in that cave?” Ujimasa’s glare was enough to bring him down on his knees.

“Forgive me, that wasn’t everything that happened.” Came the anguished, defeated response.

“So you admit that you lie. Now tell me the truth, Otouto.” Being addressed in that way, seemed more cruel.

It was that same tone Tono-sama had used on Hideharu, coaxing him to stay even as he knew that whatever was in store for him would be unpleasant. He unnoticeably shivers at the continuing spectacle before him. He was being forced to be a part of something but only as a silent observer. Both Ujiteru and Ujimasa had entrusted Saburo to him but in this scenario, in this situation... all he could do was watch painfully as Saburo falls and then falls yet into another psychological trap carefully laid out by the master of the household.

The youth licks his parched lips, the resigned expression becoming more pronounced as he opens his mouth. “I am in grief...” That is the truth! He flashes them the most wounded countenance: eyes creased, tears threatening to fall, voice but a rasp shaking in emotion, and with a slight hitch of breath he bowed his head.

When he looks up his face was blank, gaze dull, though tear streaks marred his cheeks making them glisten. In a steadier tone he began, “I only wanted to forget for a while. To become a nameless man nursing one’s wounds and drowning one’s sorrows in wine. And before I knew it, I was on the seaside. Perhaps it was the only place I can remember where our family remains together.”

“Selfish child.” Ujimasa snaps, mood further darkening to be reminded by it... how such things were but a memory, never to return to the way it was before. “You were only after your wishes! Did you not think in which position you placed the people looking after your well-being if anything were to happen to you? I thought I made myself very clear on this Saburo... Death punishes the inept and defiant.” The daimyo means how he had nearly ordered his generals who failed Ujiteru to take their lives.

“That was indeed foolish of me.” The youth admits, having no inclination that he was headed towards a path that would either break him or tie loose ends that would bind him.

Hideharu realizes that Saburo was being proven guilty for a somewhat vague purpose. He discreetly gives his contract a questioning look but Ujimasa pays no attention. “Continue. I believe you are not done.”

The nervousness was back. There was no getting out of this. Saburo follows too late that it would either be up to himself or Kotarou to reveal his shame, his infidelity on their enforced contract, and to let not only the daimyo learn of his transgression but also another man in the room.

The youth recognizes his Ujiteru-ani’s second-in-command: the composed, steady presence whose deceiving mediocrity contradicted his great dependability. Why him of all people? Was it because Matsuda-dono, he now recalled who was distantly related to the pair who ambushed him at the shores of Sagami was the closest representation of his late aniue?

His thoughts must have been written on his face for the daimyo’s eyes suddenly flickered knowingly at him. “Your continued hesitation does tell me there is much to be known about your little escapade, Saburo. And I do am getting tired of waiting to be informed of the rest.” Ujimasa mercilessly presses on.

“I... I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps it was my drunkennness that urged me to race against the waves to retrieve back something I never remember taking off beforehand.”

“WHAT?” The clan lord of the Hojo directs the question at the shinobi instead.

“Wakasama was barefoot. We could blame the effects of sake but it does appear that he was trying to take his life.” That surely got a rise out of Ujimasa.

The daimyo loses his preternatural cool and was suddenly looming over Saburo.

“Tono-sama! Get a hold of yourself!” Hideharu’s words fell on deaf ears.

Saburo doesn’t even cringe as he was struck across the face. A shadow had fallen over his eyes. A slight curling of his bruised lip could not have warned anyone for his next words. “I did not know you had the slightest concern for me... if I had died, Aniue.”

For a baited breath, rage consumed the eldest scion of the Hojo. But as readily as the flames of his anger burned at their highest was just as easily it was doused. He felt Hideharu’s hand clamp almost painfully on his shoulder and he nearly directed his fury at himself.

The child...

He almost succeeded in turning this inquisition to his favor.

Ujimasa must look like a fool becoming emotional over a simple provocative statement. Does Saburo really have that power over him— And among all men that dare listen to that unique sound of his voice or dare face that challenging stare?

I’d loathe to show how right you are, boy. But you are wrong if I’d let you damn win over me.

“Kotarou, this boy speaks of his dimwittedness at the seaside and I remember you telling me that you have not reached him there. How did he go about from the shores to being found inside a cave?”

“Tono-sama, there was a man, an entertainer from a traveling troupe who goes by the name of Musanaga no Unsui, this man has taken a liking towards the young master. He took advantage of Wakasama’s youth and violated—”

“Stop! That’s not what happened! Kotarou, I order you to silence!” Saburo could not hide his panic as the right to speak for himself was robbed by his very own protector.

Ujimasa’s eyes narrowed into slits. His control over the situation had seamlessly slid back into place. “Then tell me, what is indeed the truth, Otouto? You and I both know that if Kotarou dares lie to me, it is he who shall be punished.”

The poor youth’s wide eyes darted between his guardian and his eldest brother. There was really no escape. No one would walk away from this room unharmed no matter how carefully he phrased his words. It would be his own statement taken against Kotarou’s or the other way around.

In the end the guilty does succumb to defeat.

But hadn’t he resigned himself for this? Where was the fight in him coming from? Was it fear for himself or was it...?

He feared for Naoe.

The realization struck him dumb. Was he really that important? Was that man’s value equal to giving up his safety? He could not understand himself.

“Aniue, it is I who should be punished.” Saburo said finally.

“How so?” The gleam in those eyes was now calculatingly cold... almost predatory. Hideharu could not help but ultimately worry for the boy.

“I gave my virtue to another man.” The weight of his words threatened to send him crashing down the floor. In contrast, Saburo felt lightheaded and the pores of his skin seemed to hum.

It was like the illusory calm before a storm.

The youth waited, patiently for the verdict to fall, to topple him off his feet.

“Is this your way of defying me to the very end?” His brother’s stale reaction had him looking up.

What?

“Are you rebelling because you think I have forced Kotarou upon you in the shudo relationship? And so by giving your untried body to someone else you hope to challenge it?” The expression on Ujimasa’s face was inscrutable and oddly restrained.

Saburo was not given the time to answer. The daimyo once again turned to the shinobi. “Kotarou, my brother has admitted his guilt. What think you of Saburo?”

This was very unusual. Hideharu had a sickening notion that their daimyo had chosen the guardian over his blood brother. It was outrageously absurd. Tono-sama, do you hate your brother so much?

Saburo could not look at his protector. The man had promised not to hurt him but Kotarou had betrayed him by deferring to his aniue. Was it going to be like this? A betrayal for a betrayal, Kotarou? He shivered. He could not help feeling abandoned. Now that Ujiteru-ani was gone... he was left to fend for himself.

To lose the only shield he had over a storm of emotion for a man, for an enemy... he was an utter fool.

“I wish to bind myself and its entirety to Wakasama. Would Tono-sama give me his blessing and permission to become intimate with Saburo?”

Kotarou— what are you...? The shinobi’s words though toneless and bland bore no traces of deception or falsity. And no one but Saburo who received that liquid stare felt the raw honesty his protector conveyed.

The tension in the room palpably dissipates. So you chose to protect him after all. Ujimasa was for once speechless. He could not have expected the shinobi, despite the wrongs done to him to turn against his sibling. “Fuma Kotarou, you are willing to hold my brother in spite of what he had done?”

“Yes.” Unwavering and direct. The shinobi’s face softens as if he was almost capable of affection.

There was a strange warmth creeping at the corner of Saburo’s cheeks. He looks away, embarassed. Does the fact that he cleaned me, make this better?

“You both shall not however receive my grace in your own terms.” These cold words quickly dispelled any illusion of safety that the protector had put up for his young lord. Ujimasa realized beforehand what the shadow was trying to do. It was unfortunate that he could see right through Kotarou’s motives.

The shinobi had no intention of selling his young otouto at all. He merely wanted to formalize the bond. Sly, possessive creature. The daimyo glowers. I’ll give you what you want alright, but there would be no turning back after this. I’d like to see you taint my pure, untouchable godling...

“Kotarou, do you remember your confession on that fateful night?”

Saburo resisted the urge to cover the tingling spot of flesh that was mostly healed by now. What was left of it was partially concealed by the high-collared wrapping of his haori. Ujimasa’s tone made Saburo uncomfortably aware that his aniue was in fact not left out of what happened between himself and his devoted protector. And the delay it was taking for Kotarou to answer was evident of something more to it.

“Yes, Tono-sama.”

The daimyo’s brow raised. “Could you restate your confession to my oblivious sibling?”

The tension that had previously been quelled slowly returned to engulf what little space remained. Unbeknownst to the majority, the master of the household simply redirected his assaults from a different angle.

The shinobi made an uncharacteristic blithe gesture.

He shrugged. “Tono-sama dismissed my confession as nothing but a lie.”

Ujimasa’s face twisted into a sneer before he laughed aloud.

The unnerving sound almost made Hideharu take a step back. Tono-sama’s mood was very capricious tonight.

“Oh, you amuse me.” He said, eyes glinting to the quality of either anger, mirth or both. “Saburo, did you know that your protector claimed having done to you what he accused your... admirer of?”

The youth spared a moment of denial before the words sunk into him like brutal claws of despair and shock. “Is that true, Kotarou?”

...

The shadow’s silence was answer enough. And before either of the pair could recover a shred of composure, the lord of the realm spoke again, “If you wish to consummate your bond, would it not be appropriate to prove your intimacy right here?”

“Tono-sama!” Hideharu reacted before he could stop himself.

Saburo looked like he was seeing the face of death itself. He had gone horribly pale like there was no drop of blood left in him. What...? “Aniue...? We have... to...”

“Yes.” Ujimasa’s teeth was perfectly set. With a simple hand gesture the shoji behind opened to reveal that the spacious receiving chamber had been transformed into a love nest that could rival the matrimonial bed of the emperor.

A large futon had been spread at the center, accented by red lavish silk drapes. Three lanterns arranged in the shape of a triangle dusted the corners of the room enhancing the illumination and casting quaint reflections on delicate porcelain and colored glass.

A pleasant but subtle mixture of scents floated in the air. The source of the coaxing fragrance more to Saburo’s embarassment were open transparent jars of oil he was not naive enough to be ignorant of their use.

“There would be no trickery or falsity left in your bond. Kotarou, be grateful that your integrity is needed for your intimacy. It is perhaps the only thing that stayed my hand. Do not believe that I have not seen through what you were about to do. You are coward enough to preserve my otouto’s virtue but are audacious enough to dare lie to me twice!” Ujimasa’s indignant words confused Saburo further.

At one point the shadow have lied the admission of having violated him first but on the next moment wishes nothing but to keep their relationship chaste?

Kotarou, what do you really intend to do? Are you my protector or my aggressor?

Do you preserve or desecrate?

Saburo’s confusion was however what Ujimasa just needed to execute this plot to perfection. “If you both still wish for my blessing, show me your genuine intimacy.”

“Tono-sama, I think you need not go this far. Wasn’t professing enough?” Matsuda Hideharu still stubbornly tries to be the force of diversion and the only one to openly challenge the Sagami no kami’s decisions. It was another desired response, Ujimasa was secretly hoping for.

“And had it been enough for us, Haru?” Tono-sama’s voice had dangerously dropped a note lower but not dampened enough to be unheard.

Saburo’s silent questioning look was enough for Hideharu to retreat. If this boy’s skin wouldn’t be exposed, it would be his hide instead. Tono-sama certainly knew how to manipulate his way into any situation for it to work in his favor. It was almost too frightening to contest him these days...

“Otouto, if you are that conflicted to entrust yourself to my chosen, why don’t you prove it to yourself?” Ujimasa, only clad in his one-layered robe strode forward. He took his younger sibling’s smaller hand and retrieved something hidden underneath his sleeve.

The coldness of the metal and the smoothness of the wood hitting his open palm made the youth look up more confoundedly into an impenetrable stiff face.

The softness of skin, the warmth emanating from it, and the fragility of bones beneath nearly undid Ujimasa’s carefully preserved control. Painfully and reluctantly he withdrew almost immediately.

He was so close...

Too close to breaking that wrist—

And clawing away that abundance of silk in tatters to reveal—

Saburo fortunately was instantly drawn to the object weighing on his hands to miss the expression of pure anguish and hatred that was exposed for only a brief period of time on his eldest brother’s face.

It was a finely crafted wakizashi⁸⁸ with a few jewels encrusted on the metal surrounding the scabbard.

Steadying his gait and modulating his voice, Ujimasa said last, “If you so wish to escape from this enforced shudo relationship now is your opportunity. You do get what I mean right, Saburo?”

Saburo,

You do get what I mean?

Right Saburo?

Kill him.

It’s the only way...

The youth unsheathes the short sword at the same time Kotarou approaches him. He drops the cover to the floor and grasps the edge closest to the hand-guard with his dominant hand while the other was palm-flat against the bottom hilt.

The shadow stops a few steps away from him, watching him intently for his next move.

As if everything was happening at a slower pace, Kotarou kneels, gradually bowing down to him not as a form of respect but as a means to expose the nape of his neck.

Their eyes remain locked at one another. Neither breaking their beheld gaze, Saburo raises the blade, his other hand was at the ready flexing towards his right side in a reflexive guarding gesture to his exposed stomach⁸⁹.

With one swift precise stroke made more accurate by the unmoving target, blood splattered everywhere on the tatami.

...

...

Kotarou didn’t even flinch at the stinging pain screaming at his wounded cheek. Saburo had slashed it with unseeing almost too-wide eyes.

Blood was copiously running down the shinobi’s chin pooling against the floor with a sickening pattering sound.

Despite the amount of bleeding, the wound was a clean cut and only moderately deep. It would however leave a scar once it heals if he was allowed to live long enough for it to do so.

“Wakasama, you have lost your chance.” The protector said matter-of-factly.

A helpless short whimper broke free off Saburo. It almost sounded like the soft cry of a wounded animal. The lordling bites his lip, his hands tremble, and he loses his death-grip on the wakizashi. The blood-stained weapon falls with a dull thud. “Damn you.” I can’t...

The shinobi now dares to stand, towering over his young master who had averted his face from his failure. A lethal hand reaches out to tenderly cup a smooth unmarred cheek. “Saburo, I want to be intimate with you. Would you allow me to touch you?”

“Damn you, Kotarou.” The youth could only curse him softly. “Damn you.” Silent tears started falling down those cherished amber eyes.

Kotarou fully grasped his beloved’s face, with eyelids lowered, expression indulgent and almost loving, he pressed his lips on tear-streaked skin. The shadow was unmindful even as tangy blood soon mingled with salty tears. “Let’s go to the bed. Or do you want me to undress you here?” He asked in a mere whisper before running a hungry tongue on the curve of the youth’s neck.

Saburo stubbornly refuses to look at him but the deepening breath, which was becoming more ragged was evidence of how much Kotarou’s actions were affecting him.

His body was doing it again. Betraying him as he felt his hardening flesh press against the cloth. No, you fool! Stop! You lascivious imp—! His self-depreciating thoughts shattered as Kotarou cleverly grasped him down there. “Uhnh...! Unh!” These shameful noises of pleasure spilled out of his lips too late to stop when a bare skillful hand that could as easily be used in brutal killing was kneading him, stroking him, circling him, and milking moans of ecstasy out of him.

Sweating and shaking uncontrollably, almost nearing the end while still fully clothed was the fault of a snaking hand, which had stealthily broken through Saburo’s clothing barrier by the hole at the side of his hakama.

The youth couldn’t contemplate how fast that happened. One moment he was resisting, just standing still, and the next was he was naked underneath, firm calloused fingers were wreaking havoc upon his heated flesh, his fundoshi⁹⁰ swiftly unwrapped in a speed that would have boggled him if he could still think.

Kotarou worked frantically on him too fast and too much that he almost couldn’t breathe. There was no reprieve, as the pleasure only kept building and building and he was nothing but an upright sticky writhing mess before them all, agonized groans unrestrained as he was finished with lightning quick but ruthless stimulations at the tip of his organ.

His damp eyes slide shut, lips parting to call out at the height of his passion. He spills his thick essence all over that powerful hand.

Saburo suddenly feels his knees give out underneath but before he could collapse, Kotarou catches him. He was still panting heavily as Kotarou spoke to him in a low sultry voice, “Wakasama, you will rest better on the bed.” And thus with protests barely forming on his pleasure-fogged mind, he was carried there.

As softness of the linen caressed his skin, Saburo could barely keep himself awake and only being placed on his stomach jolted him back to awareness. He tried to rise but Kotarou’s larger form firmly held him down. “Wakasama, you only need to rest. Let me care for you.”A darker edge had crept into the shinobi’s formerly flat demeanor. It sent chills of dread climbing up the youth’s spine.

Despite the panic rendering Saburo almost immobile, he realized that he had to keep control over his rampant emotions if he would master this wayward protector of his who has challenged him far too many times. He let a small chuckle slip. “How can you become intimate with me if you only know how to use your hands? I am not surprised, Kotarou. Shinobi are but cold, stoic tools of war.”

Mere words don’t stay the shadow’s hand this time. Kotarou proceeds to disrobe him intently. He firstly removes the vest or the cobalt kataginu and then his fingers soon busied themselves with the knots tying the black hakama in place.

His protector’s undeterred actions make his fear too overwhelming. He holds the bottom sleeves of his haori in an attempt to slow his exposure. “Stop.” He froze when Kotarou licked the inner shell of his ear.

“Saburo, I would have never thought you are so much ill-informed about shinobi. Some of us are trained in the arts of pleasure alone at a very young age for the clan to thrive and sometimes to gather information. How could you think that I am lacking in such matters?” The slight amusement, lacing a very dangerous pride of a warrior made an offended Kotarou very terrifying indeed.

This was the same tone he used on the youth before he assaulted him. As the layers of clothing slid off his body, Saburo could only helplessly remain still like a prey being injected by lethal paralyzing poison. At this point he could not tell if his own fear petrified him or another devious method, whose secrets are only known by elite shinobi was the cause.

Petal soft lips continued to assault the tingling skin of his nape until he felt drops of fluid touch him. Kotarou was still bleeding from the slash on his cheek but he proceeded nonetheless. He gave stinging long nips on particular sensitive spots on the youth’s neck and shoulder. Those hands slithered down tracing his ribs, lifting him up to rise on all fours...

No, he couldn’t...! “Kotarou, you can’t—!” His incomplete words were punctuated by a harsh gasp when astute fingers squeezed taut rosy nipples and kept pulling, teasing, twisting... “Hmngh! Ah!”

“I’ll taint you with my blood, my sweat, my tears, my very soul...” A soft rustling sound accompanied this fiery declaration before Saburo sensed hot hard-muscled skin press against his own.

Kotarou was naked.

And he was not only naked...

A large thick flesh jutted out brushing against his vulnerable rump. “Fear not, did I not say I’ll take care of you?” Something slippery and wet dripped on him and then a soothing hand landed on his hip, massaging him and coaxing him to relax. It traveled over the base of his spine and Saburo smelled fragrance. It was coated in oil and it warmed his skin making it burn as it slid further down now poised at his tailbone.

“I don’t fear you.” The youth took even breaths, not trusting to speak again without his voice shaking so much. His hips were quivering on their own, dreading, anticipating, excited...

His body was undeniably aroused and his heart was pounding so hard and so fast he thought everyone in the room could hear it.

Two oiled digits traced the crack of his ass but just stayed there rubbing soothingly back and forth, giving him a false calm.

His jaw forcefully lifted up as the other hand that had been idle for sometime grasped him out of nowhere. “Unh...nn N-Not... aga—!” It pumped him easily into full arousal once more.

“Ko...tarou....”

“!” Saburo rasped, words entirely failing him— He was salivating too much.

His back arched, making him unconsciously open his legs to probing fingers that went for the kill. They entered him precisely, swiftly and went deep at once.

His heart made a double-thud, slowing into a strange rhythm. The slippery oil eased through his still sore insides making the intrusion almost painless. Kotarou started thrusting, scissoring his way but very slowly as if afraid to break him. “Enough, enough... I...! I can’t— take it anymore...” The youth’s head was shaking side to side as if in denial that this was all happening.

Kotarou paused. “What can’t you take anymore?”

“You. I can’t take you anymore... for doing this to me...” The ability to speak was robbed from the youth again as the thrusting resumed, those fingers previously coated by his own essence now violating him from within.

Kotarou mercilessly let him descend further making the youth utter nothing but moans, gasps, and cries of pleasure. The shinobi has effortlessly found a man’s weakness inside his body and was thoroughly stimulating it, concentrating on it alone.

Flexible abdomen quivering, Saburo was close to the edge once more. But before he could crash towards the inevitable, the shinobi withdrew his fingers.

“You are mine. I’ll erase traces of him from you,” was the only warning before rigid flesh penetrated him slowly but relentlessly.

“Haa... ahh...!” Saburo gasped aloud, eyes widening in shock. Kotarou was fully sheathed, filling him completely but there was no pain...

The lordling swallowed, drops of sweat sliding off his fevered skin. He panted... It felt so good... So good that he could not rationalize anything at all.

His protector wasn’t moving yet. His body was one with his beloved and he merely wanted to hold him possessively.

Kotarou was genuinely surprised himself. His body felt so alive, smoldering in heat, tense as a bowstring, and overflowing with an emotion he could no longer deny. If this was how it would be all the time, he seriously thought he could not always hold himself back should the need to copulate with Saburo ever arose in him. “Are you... alright young master?” His voice sounded strange... almost breathless.

Saburo doesn’t answer and so the shinobi confirms his enjoyment by touching and feeling how hard he was.

The way he was trembling, breathing one labored breath after another, and tightening around Kotarou conveyed his utmost need. His lithe body was more than ready and begging to be mated. The youth needs speak no more.

Guiding his hips and exciting the spot between his legs at the same time, Kotarou thrusted into him rhythmically.

It spiked Saburo’s body into sinful euphoria. The youth’s torso bowed, pressing against the bed’s soft material. His hands scrambled to fist and claw at the sheets as he gritted his teeth to muffle any sound. It turns out he couldn’t keep quiet for long. The head of Kotarou’s manhood knowingly and viciously slammed against the tender bulge within his passage. His weakest spot rammed hard, Saburo could only cry out, his harsh screams soon echoing within the room.

Certainly anyone who was first to see the untouchable youth so wild in his passion could mistake his uninhibited pleasure for excruciating pain.

Hideharu winced whenever the smaller one beneath would make raucous noises. “Tono-sama, don’t you think Kotarou is too rough on him?”

Ujimasa continues to watch the scene with hooded eyes, face giving nothing away but a dull almost bored expression. At first, the vassal thought he would not get a response and just endures. “It is amusing that you don’t see yourself in similar situation.” This however, sealed him off effectively.

“Nngh! Auh! Ah...!” Saburo was made to thrust against the ring of those fingers as his protector worked on him from behind.

It was two pleasures combined into one and it excited him more to know that his ecstasy was Kotarou’s own. He felt he could not last longer, his knees forever weakening, and his belly ever tightening at each powerful stroke of his protector’s hips. His moist insides rippled and clenched as wave after wave of intense sensations drenched him.

He stiffened as Kotarou drove as deep as he could go into him and held him close.

They both stopped. Time seemed to have no meaning as Saburo lets out sharp escalating gasps and finally spasms. Eyes clenched shut, mouth wide open, body soaring into raw bliss, his orgasm was violently ripped from him.

As final pearls of liquid left him, Saburo felt the man inside him moving, finding his own release.

Even as his strength begin to leave him, the youth urged the man, body thrusting back, encouraging Kotarou to come.

“Wakasama,” Kotarou gasped and suddenly spilled into him.

Hearing his protector lose himself, a peculiar heat gushed back into Saburo and to his surprise a second eruption of enormous pleasure ravaged his body.

Kotarou carefully pulled out when he sensed his young master had passed out from too much exertion. He had made Saburo reach completion three times; he thought with pride. The boy was oddly mistaken into thinking that he was not well-versed in this particular art of seduction. Yet it added a somewhat untouched innocence into his seemingly unattainable and arrogant demeanor.

The protector swathed the lax body in soft warm sheets before the cold could seep through. He held him close, still uncaring even if the scent of blood overpowered the fragrance of the oils or the smell of coupling between them.

The sliding doors to Tono-sama’s private chambers had been closed sometime ago. While the elite shinobi and his young master had completely consummated their bond, the daimyo and his contract were yet to.

“Haru,” Tono-sama had held his sleeve the moment he stood up.

Matsuda Hideharu gave his contract an inquisitive look, something only he was able to get away with.

“Stay.” Your true purpose, my love, my tool, has been served.

~TBC

88 – The companion sword of a katana, the shorter sword more popular than the tanto and used for beheading defeated opponents and sometimes used for ritual suicide or seppuku as well. Could also be known as the shoto of a daisho pair. The daito or long sword being the katana.

89 – It is imperative in the art of sword fighting to always guard your exposed weak points when attacking. The Japanese consider their abdomen particularly vulnerable.

90 – Men’s underwear.

Post A/N: Ammy-chan this one’s totally for you! *Squees. Please R&R, they make me write faster!
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400 Years Apart