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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
- 27
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- 29
Chapter 28:

ULTIMARINA, Pearl in the Deep: Part 6

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.

Disclaimer: See (chapter one)

Warning: VIOLENCE; Lots of it… and all forms: physical, psychological, sexual… (Non-realistic rape scene: this is chapter 21’s twisted version) also semi-hardcore YAOI and somewhat graphic, descriptive. Children, please don’t read.

…

The least fortunate situation a warrior should find himself in was to be vulnerable. It was to be avoided at all costs. Naoe never envisioned himself in a half-conscious state, oddly befuddled mind, severely bleeding with mind-numbing pain, and still being steadily tortured into madness.

He was lying on thick plain linen spread to a wooden flooring. A sparse room with no windows where the only illumination was provided by a single lamp was what he would come to as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he didn’t even know if he was dreaming or awake as horrible shadows of disturbing images plagued him. The only constant company was the never ending agony and delirium he was subjected to.

From time to time, he felt a cold, pasty uncomfortable substance press against his many wounds. The more active the wound bleeds, the longer and the harder it was applied. In his somewhat fumbled awareness, he could only hover between the idea of gradually being healed or slowly being poisoned.

He didn’t know that what was being done to him was… a cruel combination of both.

As his physical body recuperated, his mind soared into malignant dreams…

…

Defiant but fearful, wide eyes were gazing at him from below. The youth’s torn lower lip trembled. A bead of ruby red was forming from where sharp teeth seemed to have punctured flesh.

Yes… he had done it.

He had bitten Saburo’s lips when he refused. The young body’s arms were imprisoned above his head, tied painfully tight with a piece of ripped cloth to prevent him from struggling wildly like he did moments ago.

The sight of blood and the boy’s bruised wrists from his weak pitiful attempts of getting away immensely caused Naoe’s arousal to throb with fevered need. He forcefully grabbed those slender knees to stop those legs from kicking and roughly splayed them apart. “What’s this?” Naoe sneered with a disapproving and lecherous glint in his eyes. “Are you trying to withdraw from what we agreed upon?” He hissed before hungrily licking the youth’s soft ear.

Saburo shut his eyes and shivered.

“Coward, there’s no escape for you. You said you have no value, didn’t you?” Naoe continued to utter mocking words on his ear and he gasped to what was said next, “You can’t refuse me. You have no right.”

“You’re hurting me.” The youth said more out of sorrow than fear and turned away from him.

Naoe grasped that stubborn face wrenching it back towards him making Saburo grunt in pain. “But I also gave your body pleasure…” If the youth would dare open his eyes, he would probably recoil in terror at the mad gleam and rapt hunger reflected in the man’s seemingly possessed gaze. “Don’t you think it’s about time for my body to receive pleasure from yours?”

“What will you do to me?” The youth did open his eyes and he nearly flinched at the sight of the man’s frightening expression.

“Let me bury myself inside you. Let me possess you! So open yourself like a good woman and wrap your legs around me! Meet my thrusts like the best courtesan! I want to hear your cries of joy as I violate you!”

“I would never do as you say—”

A loud smack echoed within the cave.

Naoe was trembling in insuperable anger even as he took it out by hitting the boy across the face. It was not Saburo’s constant rejection that made him almost blind with fury. It was the way it was said, so very calm and dignified… untouchable and undefeated. It grated on Naoe’s pride to have a mere boy look down on him… to be so composed like a Bodhisattva even as a man was practically losing his wits, his sense of self, and still losing no matter how many times he tried to make Saburo submit, to dominate the youth beyond words.

“You still… have the gall to defy me like this? Bow down to me. Submit to me!” Naoe rasped as he grabbed a fistful of long black hair.

Saburo winced at the sting, his bound hands instinctively trying to claw their way out of capture to pry that large hand off his scalp. “I’ll never… submit to you—!”

“Mmnh…!” The man’s lips had crashed against his own, stealing, and sucking every breath from his lungs.

It was the beginning of a true nightmare.

Naoe shoved him hard against the ground. The man’s great weight threatened to crush the very bones of his body. “Just wait… I’ll not stop until I let that beautiful mouth of yours howl my name over and over…! I know you really like it hard… being embraced so violently is your secret perverted fantasy.”

Saburo tensed at the danger looming ahead. He no longer saw Naoe as a man but as a beast about to take advantage of him to soothe its desires; to rut savagely with its turgid flesh.

“Ungh!” A sudden intrusion upon his lower body made him shout in pain and shock. Naoe’s long, thick middle finger was half past the tight defensive ring and had no intention of stopping. It pushed all the way as deep as it could go making the youth’s body curve upwards.

To say that it was uncomfortable would be an understatement. It felt odd… and really disconcerting to have a man’s digit digging into another’s intimate hole. What was the man doing to him? Was this his way of humiliating him? “S… Stop, ah…” He was unexpectedly hot on the face and was beginning to pant at the bizarre sensations evoked by the invasion.

“What you really mean to say is… more, am I right?” The man cajoles, his eyes dilating heavily at the sight of Saburo’s passage straining against the object pushed inside it.

“Nn…unh…!” The youth was unconsciously shifting with every stroke and fondle of that finger. And when Naoe started moving it around… the more lewdly he massaged those delicate walls the louder Saburo’s moans became. “Tsk, such lasciviousness in one so young.” The man dirtily whispered to him, making the youth gasp in shame and horror at his disgraceful actions. “You want your hole toyed so much?” Naoe’s head swooped down to lap at and bite one very erect nipple.

“Unh… Please stop…” The youth gritted his teeth, tears welling beneath his eyes.

The man chuckled maliciously, his other hand caressing an equally rigid manhood. “Look at how much you want me. Your flesh is thoroughly enjoying being violated by me. And do you want to know the best part? Your arousal has more to do with the pain I’m giving you. What a sick child you are. You love the dirtiest place of your body humped with abandon.”

Saburo’s brow creased. He was stubbornly fighting off his tears but the man’s words stung so deep that he eventually wept. “Why… are you doing this to me?”

“!” Amber eyes flew wide open, a fat tear escaping down his bruised cheek upon hearing his violator’s next words.

“Because you enjoy it. Because I’ll defeat you if I did. You’ll not look down on me again!” After the outburst, Naoe’s voice sweetened but it only sounded nastier. “And because you said, you have no value… I could do whatever I want with you. A beast would want to take its chances with you… offering your body in this way.”

“Please stop it…” The boy’s pleas did nothing to calm the beast. Instead, it provoked the beast more into madness. The beast shoved two fingers this time. It was more than the dry body could take and with the force and brutality of its vigorous thrusting ripped the youth’s delicate flesh causing him to scream and scream in agony.

Blood steadily filled the abused opening, flowing out between Saburo’s legs. Somewhere in the midst of excruciatingly sharp pain, the man brushed a node that would inflict the opposite sensation. The youth groaned in a mixture of anguish and confusion. If this continues he would pass out from the ruthless ministrations his body was forced to endure.

Naoe happened upon the dazed, unfocused falter starting to override the youth’s pain-filled stare. That would not do. He’d sooner let the child free of his bonds than for him to escape in this manner. Aiming for a different reaction, he once again stroked the secret spot nestling inside the male body.

Saburo instantly went stiff. His softened flesh leapt into attention, body instinctively latching onto the better stimuli.

Naoe glorified in this. He now played with that spot, rubbing it repeatedly and thoroughly with almost disturbing eagerness and watched with fascination as his prey becomes hooked by it.

“Uhnh! Ah!” Saburo had this troubling sensation of being massaged in his bowels, a warm, liquid euphoria was spreading from his hips down his toes making them twitch and curl. His lower body felt like being strangulated like some brute’s arms wrapped around him, threatening to squeeze his innards. His arousal pulsed and his violator took this opportunity to fist him. So rough and hard was the man’s grip that he was almost ready…

“To use your blood as lubricant, and getting off on the feeling of a man’s finger stroking your dirty nub inside your hole… you are most shameless.” To his horror, repeating these humiliating words murmured to him over and over his head pushed Saburo into the height of climax. He was wailing his violator’s name loudly as he spilled messily all over the man’s hand.

Barely recovering and still struggling for breath, Naoe suddenly penetrated him.

The youth could only whimper and clench his teeth at the larger, broader intrusion. Ruthlessly and without mercy the beast began pounding inside him to satiate its utmost need. No more word of protest left Saburo’s lips. Salvation was so out of reach.

The violator regarded the one beneath him with much exaltation and morbid obsession. His prey refused to cry out, to show that he was in pain or in pleasure. The boy only stubbornly clamped his mouth shut, soon biting his already torn lip as the beast intensified the strength of its penetrations. Though Saburo felt his body soon giving out, a steely determination shone in his eyes. He refused to go down… he still refused to submit.

He would not lose.

The beast angled its thrusts differently this time. It intended to stoke a sordid passion within the youth’s body that was borne out of defilement. As the beast strove to accomplish what it had in mind, the ring of flesh ever growing tighter around its phallus, blood-soaked in bodily warmth threatened to make it lose itself in unholy pleasures. “You refused to condemn me. You refused to push me out of your body. You continue to hold on to me… the sanctuary of your flesh defeats that of a divine maiden's womb.” If the violator could have a human heart, his eyes would have overflowed with love but devoid of such, he could only convey extreme lust.

He didn’t know why.

Really he didn’t.

Saburo couldn’t understand why despite the man’s actions he was still hanging on to consciousness he so desperately wanted to forgo moments ago.

Worse, there was that strange sensation again.

It made breathing difficult and made his skin hum.

He struggled to fight the feeling but it continued to overwhelmingly fill him.

…He was gradually being pleasured by the beast.

The merciless ache engraved inside his body had abruptly transformed into delirious rapture.

As he shuddered and twisted at the all-consuming heat devouring his flesh, the evidence of his surrender drenched his milky white skin.

Naoe’s eyes expanded in horror at the complete atrocity of his doing. There was the limp exhausted body of his beloved stained with red, red blood. Even the youth’s seed was tainted crimson.

…

Oh what had he done?

…

If this was a very bad dream, Naoe wanted to wake from it now.

Saburo’s arms lifted towards him, both wrists were discolored black and blue as he reached to caress Naoe’s face.

As the youth’s fingertips touched the man’s cheeks…

Tears… tears of blood flowed out of cherished amber eyes.

Naoe screamed and screamed.

A never ending sound of terror was issuing continuously from his throat.

…

With a jerk, Naoe finally came to with the same sensation of the pasty uncomfortable substance being applied on the old wound on his chest. As a battle-hardened warrior, he quickly regulated his uneven breathing and willed the panicked, helplessly fearful expression: the remnants of his dreadful nightmare to drain away from his face. Regaining composure and with an awfully clear mind this time, he realized just who he was with:

The shinobi with the slanted gash on the face was the one diligently tending to his injuries. The very same man who had beaten him bloody and the one who was also primarily responsible in torturing him was now keenly trying to stop the sluggish bleeding at his side where a wakizashi blade had previously lodged in several days prior.

Indignant, Naoe only did one thing: he struggled and only managed to make things more difficult by directing the shinobi’s full attention on him.

He hardly moved a muscle when a strong hand firmly steadied his torso. “Hold still,” Came the toneless command.

Naoe expected more than that for his defiance… if one could call lifting his chin, defiance. He had expected the shinobi to strike him or worse, kick him but that would just defeat the purpose of what he was currently doing, wouldn’t it?

As he watched and winced a bit from the probably intentional pressure at his smarting wound… the shinobi looked oddly calm and collected. He was nowhere near the spinning, hitting, flying swarm of arms and legs that Naoe had gotten accustomed to within that torture chamber for the past countless days. There was a serenity of contentment radiating from the man like he recently acquired what he desired most—

Cold sweat formed at the nape of his neck.

His gut pointed to this irrational thought that what this man obtained was the very same thing his hands touched…

Saburo.

Naoe was no fool and he was no forgetful invalid either.

He had seen their exchange.

There, behind Saburo’s protective shadow, Naoe had watched the shinobi bridge the gap in a blink of an eye. He had seen the man clasp the slender exhausted body of Saburo as if it were his’. Without second thoughts, the supposed servant had made a move an ordinary vassal would never dare upon his lord. His lips had decisively captured possession of the one giving him orders. Even the most rebellious servants would at least bear a shred of hesitation.

But for this shinobi, there was simply none.

This seemingly passive man did not even pause for breath. It was as if he was exercising a right. A right to what? A right to violate one’s lord?

Unless…

“You… what are you?”

Endless pools of void stared back at his question. Naoe thought he wouldn’t get a response but when he did, it certainly froze his blood cold.

“I am the young master’s protector and guardian. I am his contract.”

Naoe didn’t have enough time to wonder if this one could read minds. Only a single word clicked in his head:

Shudo.

No wonder this man was furious seeing them together: joined in one flesh.

“And you, you’re the one who attacked the young master on that night and got stabbed in return.” For emphasis, the shinobi had dispassionately thumped the skin beside the old wound on his chest.

If Naoe had the frail body of any battered prisoner he would have groaned in pain. Instead, he only glared at the man. The fact that he was at the mercy of Saburo’s protector didn't sit well with him.

“Why do you keep your silence?” Naoe would never understand this one’s intentions or rather if he had any at all.

“That you’re sohei, Musanaga no Unsui? Like I said I am the young master’s protector. My loyalty lies beside no one else. He personally requested me to keep you alive and so until he orders me otherwise, I shall.” The shinobi was expertly wrapping a bandage around his torso, not missing a fold in the middle of conversation.

“All subjects of this domain belong to the Sagami no Kami. Your lord decrees my survival, why is that?”

“As a prisoner, you are not entitled to questions.” Kotarou countered sensibly.

“My survival doesn’t include my comfort and well-being for now. Another bruise or two behind closed doors won’t harm your so-called honor, Shinobi.”

“Are you trying to provoke me, Sohei?” Kotarou had finished his task and now stood, towering over Naoe’s supine form.

“I know you enjoyed torturing me. This isn’t even enough for you, am I right? Why hold back?” Naoe had long forgotten the fear of death.

“Enjoyment doesn’t have meaning to me.” Kotarou coldly answered.

“Oh? Then what calmed your rage besides breaking the bones of my body?”

He was playing with very dangerous fire; this one, Kotarou thought. “Breaking one particular piece of your anatomy would have been enough. Do you really want to know, fake Unsui?”

Despite the dead, empty gaze of the other, he was surprisingly talkative given the subject at hand. Naoe was unknowingly digging his psyche a sizable grave by challenging Fuma Kotarou.

The shinobi made an odd gesture of tracing the cut on his face most tenderly as if he were caressing a lover’s mark before he turned his back and responded, “You may have had the young master first… by force and coercion I’m sure. But he allowed me… Saburo allowed me to become intimate with him in the presence of His Lordship. I pleasured him so immensely that he must have forgotten how your filthy touch felt like.”

Naoe couldn’t help it.

He gasped and paled considerably.

A mixture of outrage and shock warred inside him.

With a last condescending look thrown over his shoulder, Kotarou headed silently for the door. There he paused and, “I didn’t spare your life on a whim, Musanaga no Unsui. Ujimasa-kou still had his uses for you, that’s why.”

Naoe Nobutsuna’s vision dimmed and his body refused to move at will. His thoughts lingered on his nightmare as if a medium had purposefully let him fixate on it. Had he really hurt Saburo so much during their coupling? Was he not careful enough?

Was he not good enough?

He had actually drawn blood and his mind revolved around that memory.

‘Would the same thing happen again if I attempt to hold you?’

‘Won’t I be able to stop myself?’

‘Would I cause you pain if I stay by your side?’

‘Then I…’

The only illumination in the room died out.

XxXMOBXxX

Carefully sipping his early afternoon tea while idling at the center of his leisure room with the full view of his garden, Ujimasa-kou contemplated a sunset stroll by his secret shrine. He couldn’t remember the last time he visited the hidden place where he stored memories of Obaiin. It would help clear his head a little after Genan’s latest audacious move and maybe he could lure one of his ‘supposed aces’ in this war into finally engaging more profitable conversation with him. He was practically getting bored and tired of having to ignore the constant not-so-stealthy albeit powerful presence of the master illusionist⁹⁵.

One stolen moment when the master illusionist (with no known loyalties) dropped in flamboyantly unannounced and without even blinking proclaimed, “The Takeda keeps Ujiteru-dono, alive. What say you?”

Waiting for no reply, he then vanished using one of those complicated ninjutsu skills the fewest could pull off.

Even Fuma Akito was getting worried. And his shadow was the least sort to get worried. Akito didn’t even fear for his neck when he occasionally intruded into His Lordship’s plans. In fact, the only time when he actually did worry was when he thought His Lordship wouldn’t get over his complicated grief for the loss of a brother… until he was told otherwise.

But who was he fooling, really? He was also a man. On those days when the obsession soared great heights and his expressionless aloof masks barely held, who wouldn’t take pity on his poor soul’s suffering? Who could blame him into fleeing to his sanctuary and touching the cold replica of his cruel heart’s sole passions carved in stone?

So by being alone, unescorted, and possibly ‘more approachable’ would he use the opportunity of visiting the secret shrine to get the freelancing shinobi to once again make an exchange with him? One with more clarity and understanding that could benefit both parties?

He could only hope for the best.

…

The sound of shuffling steps of mutual respects exchanged, and the Sagami no Kami expected one of his elite guards to come reporting to him of a key vassal wanting an audience. Ujimasa already knew that it was Ueda Tomonao judging by the circumstances and curtly voiced his assent.

The elder samurai had a grim-looking countenance that he moderated with an air of subservience and a deep bow, “Tono-sama.”

The master of the household gestures for him to rise and to sit on the opposite side. “What troubles you, old man?” He casually asked.

“Tono-sama, is it true that Genan-sama has placed himself under house arrest?”

“It is self-induced, yes.”

Ueda’s brow furrowed. “There are whispers, Tono-sama. There is conflict between the houses of the older generations and the younger ones. The elders disapprove of this… dissent between yourself and your uncle. They fear that the two of you might hatch civil war against each other anytime. I came to personally hear from you, Tono-sama. My loyalty undeniably lies with you but I want to be enlightened of the situation.”

The Sagami no Kami reacted in such a way that was least expected: he laughed.

There was no helping it.

Someone was really getting way ahead of himself. “Civil war? Have my vassals turned into rumor mongers without my knowledge?”

Ueda quickly colored in embarrassment. “Tono-sama… please don’t take the state of affairs too lightly.”

“Ojisama is merely sulking. He has lost all faith in me including those others thinking that I am trying to encourage this rift between us.” The daimyo regarded his tea bowl with disdain. “All I ask of you is to wait.”

“Tono-sama, forgive me for this insolence but I suggest that you be clear about your plans with your subjects so they don’t misinterpret your actions.” Ueda Tomonao pushed a bold foot forward.

“Did you just deliberately tell me to explain myself, Tomonao-san?”

The veteran immediately knew he was in trouble. The daimyo never called him ‘Tomonao-san’. It was reserved for those times that he was particularly displeased with him. “Tono-sama, what I mean was…”

Ujimasa laughed again. Oh he was enjoying this.

If anything, the abrupt shifts in mood intimidated the old man more. What was with Tono-sama these days? Ueda soon finds himself subdued, speechless.

“Be grateful you’re one of those I trust, old man. If you want to hear about my plan it is not complicated in the least.

I have a spy within the Takeda that could go to and fro from here. At my command he could cause a stir within Shingen’s realm and provoke them to reveal what they stubbornly hide. It could lead to negotiations to an alliance or to war. With Shingen ever weakening, I personally wanted them to go to war with me but without anyone to lead them at the moment I doubt they could… which brings us to the matter of the possible succession of one of Shingen’s heirs. The Takeda’s problems don’t stop there. The Oda is waiting to stab their backs… so what could they possibly do but strike an alliance with me? Unless they have someone capable of helping them stay afloat. And I mean a former enemy in that regard is secretly aiding them in that feat: The Uesugi.”

Ueda Tomonao could only utter a shocked, “What?”

“Ah, but it doesn’t stop there. If the Uesugi had their act together then why are they not reclaiming Hakone after her fall? I have yet to station an army there to prevent territorial recapture. If what you say regarding Kakizaki Haruhie’s circumstance is true then that means the Uesugi are struggling within themselves. Moreover, Hanaiin’s abductors are silent as well. And that’s what I want to know: what makes the sohei so suddenly inactive?”

The veteran could never know that the first half of Ujimasa-kou’s stated plan were bushels of lies reserved for the ears of a foreign eavesdropper. Until when does the freelancer plan to delay playing his part in the Sagami no Kami’s grand scheme? He could only wait so much.

“Tono-sama is saying that the Takeda, the Uesugi, and the neutral sohei are conniving with each other? I cannot believe it. If it were so, the clan that could destroy the cohesiveness of the three parties would be the Oda. What do you plan to do?”

“My, old man, aren’t you going to nag me about rescuing Hanaiin amidst all these turmoil?” It was most intriguing that Ujimasa could lie and be sarcastic while elaborating their most recent status in the war. Now the veteran really felt ashamed with himself. He could offer no reply at all.

“The Takeda could fall apart with their recent problems alone, our victory at Mimase served us well in the long run. On the other hand, the Uesugi could debate between attempting to save Kakizaki Haruhie as the son of their Ten-ou or abandon him entirely since his father, Kageie is prancing with the Oda. I am waiting for them to trip on their own feet, old man. What say you?”

Tomonao sighs, “I never knew Tono-sama to be a passive warlord. It is so… unlike you.”

The daimyo laughs for the third time. “You know me too well. I am glad.” After a moment’s pause, his expression turns seriously stiff and contemplative. “If we are to make a bold move and save Hanaiin it has to be done in secret.”

One at a time.

Things were to be tackled at a steady, controlled pace.

“It is unfortunate that I’ll say this again. Our enemy should make the first move and we are only to wait. Something has to happen first before we can advance. Saburo can take his time with his training, Genan-oji can mope all he wants, the Takeda could keep ‘Ujiteru’ for as long as they wish but they better think of staying in my good graces if they ever decide to flip. And the Uesugi… ah, the Uesugi, I think I have the Uesugi by the throat.” Tono-sama’s demeanor was so confident, so composed, and so frighteningly vindictive that the elder man almost regretted coming here for answers.

He had gotten more than enough of what he had bargained for.

As he excuses himself, offering allegiance, and saying, “I shall make the other retainers see through your perspective, Tono-sama.” Ueda Tomonao bows, was dismissed and leaves… shaken.

Hojo Ujimasa watches the veteran’s back with amusement in his eyes.

XxXMOBXxX

Bathing in the rays of the moon, Saburo was silently gazing outside the window with one hand resting at the wooden panel and the other… clutching a kerchief belonging to a certain someone.

He was no longer tired from the various trainings he did every day. In fact he was in the mood for music. If he had his favorite aniue’s keepsake he would have played that flute by now.

The one who currently safeguarded his treasure was probably somewhere in this room but Saburo wasn’t about to ask Kotarou (nicely) to hand it over so he could weave melodies out of it. Not after what he had done uncaringly in the open on that day… in front of Naoe.

He still didn’t know himself why he had allowed… such an act. Even returning the shadow’s fervor had somehow shocked him. He could no longer call himself unwilling if he continued to be fine with being touched and held close within that lethal warm body. Simply being embraced by Kotarou without engaging in sexual congress was in itself deep intimacy of a different kind.

He had questioned himself several times before and he was getting tired of re-examining his conscience and his true feelings for that man. The hand by the window curled into a fist. He exhibited a troubled expression. Could it be?

If he could be honest with himself… could he really admit that Kotarou had become something more to him other than his protector and guardian? That… Kotarou is now someone equally important to him like family? Or not…

Thinking of Kotarou and their brand of intimacy did not mesh well with the concept of family. Family relations were chaste and did not make the individual tense, conflicted, and aching with a raw need that cannot be sated by any other means.

Saburo could feel the frustration build within himself. Comparing his bond with Kotarou to family just now… made him feel sick in the head. And then what of Naoe? What could he name the same emotion eating away at his mind that was associated with thinking of Naoe?

Nobutsuna…

A man who belonged to the Uesugi…

His enemy…

The assailant who attacked him that night…

The one who had something to do with Hanaiin’s abduction…

Keeping the man’s true identity secret to his family, to his Ujimasa-ani in particular was the highest form of treason. He was betraying their family by not telling them that Musanaga no Unsui-- Nagashiro was actually Naoe Nobutsuna, vassal of the Uesugi.

What could he possibly gain by withholding such valuable information? There were several… He could earn death by his aniue’s hands, the scorn of Genan-oji, the complete abandonment of the Hojo Household, and the guilt of Hanaiin’s loss. The fact that he was willing to let his beloved cousin die… an innocent casualty in the war for the sake of one man who treats him coldly these days couldn’t begin to describe the utter foolishness Hojo Saburo was making.

This had to end.

What would Ujiteru-ani think of him now?

If his late elder brother would discover his little secret, he would no longer be proud of him. He would be condemned to suffer and his soul would burn in the pits of seven hells.

He must go to Naoe.

He must confront the man and lead him to Hanaiin.

It was perhaps the only thing he could do to stop the growing hostility between his brother and his uncle. He would sacrifice himself and rescue Hanaiin. The Uesugi can take him in exchange and do whatever they want with him as long as they set the innocent girl free. She and his aniue could marry, start a family, create the new line of Hojo and everything will be the way it was before. Peace and prosperity will reign over Sagami, his beloved homeland. With these conclusions dominating his thoughts he decides to venture Nagashiro’s rooms.

As he dons a thick kataginu vest, a light footfall was heard behind him. With better reflexes and speed gained from his excessive kenjutsu training, Saburo whips around with his tanto unsheathed.

Unfazed, Fuma Kotarou disregards the naked blade aimed at his throat. “Where are you going, Wakasama?”

“Aren’t I entitled to go wherever and whenever I please? I don’t have to answer to you, servant.” Saburo narrowed his eyes and with his weapon motions for the shadow to let him pass.

The shinobi appears perfectly still but in a flicker of movement, his arm was outstretched and was about to disarm his young master.

The youth’s martial skills had improved considerably if he managed to see and dodge that stealth move just in time. He unfortunately makes a miscalculated step of bolting into a corner making the shinobi trap him there.

Kotarou was merely blocking his path but the look in his eyes seems to convey his intention of pinning Saburo to the wall if things between them go awry.

He glares at his protector, hiding his nervousness with a haughty posture. “This isn’t a game, Kotarou. Move aside or I’ll deliver another cut to make your cheeks look even.”

If not for the constant tension between them resulting from their odd relationship, this interaction may appear to be casual philandering if the youth’s choice of words were any indication. Kotarou might have even snorted in laughter if he were capable but his charge’s earlier mood was grave and didn’t match this flippant attitude. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re blocking my way and you’re asking me what’s wrong?” Saburo responded with strained humor.

“What’s wrong?” Kotarou repeated.

Saburo becomes distracted by the unique sound of his voice and the blade was then effortlessly plucked off that hand.

The lordling allowed himself to be disarmed this time. He sighs letting his guardian see his unhappy countenance. “I know a way to save Hanaiin. Things between aniue and ojisama are getting bad as it is.”

Kotarou’s reply was instantaneous, “I’ll not allow you to go to him.”

“I dare you to stop me.” Saburo growled. He was prepared to clash with this man if his protector continues with this insolence. He tries to walk past Kotarou and expected the strong restraining grip on his wrist.

Without even sparing him a glance, Saburo speaks in a tight imperious tone, “I am your lord, Fuma Kotarou. Obey me when I say release me!”

The shinobi does the exact opposite and pulls him into an embrace.

The youth’s resolve immediately wavers within the heat of those possessive arms. Damn this man for using his weakness to be held!

“If I can't stop you from going to him then let this weak man… hold you.” The depth of emotion and the almost desperation in those words caused Saburo’s heart to swell with pain.

No, you insolent fool! Why do you become so affected by him?

“Are you saying that you want to have your way with me?” His bravado belied the surge of fear he readily felt. He may have given in to Kotarou more than once but his survival instincts flare every time he allowed himself to be so vulnerable.

Creases of anguish appeared on Kotarou’s brow. He didn't want his young lord to see his desperate expression and so cradled that head close to his chest. Should Saburo reject him just to spite him, he would certainly be destroyed. “Only if it is alright with you, Saburo, my lord.” There. He had sealed his fate.

Saburo closed his eyes. He tried to stifle the emotion wreaking havoc inside him, making it difficult to breathe. Why does it hurt him so to refuse this man? “I hate you. You do nothing but hurt me with your words. Simply looking at you… hurts me.” He could feel Kotarou gradually pulling away and this hurts him more.

“I shall not force you but I can’t bear to have you alone with that man. If you shall go to him then take me with you.” A mere hand remains clasped on Saburo’s shoulder. Kotarou was willing his mask of neutrality not to crack under extreme pressure. But the youth soon takes that hand and brings it close, guides it through the folds of fabric on his chest until it touches the smooth skin there.

Saburo becomes deaf to the jeering voices in his head, his conscience muted alongside them.

I’ll be selfish a little more. “And I hate you for stirring this need in me.”

“Wakasama…?”

“This is your punishment: By being with the one who hates you. I want you to taste the overflowing revulsion of my flesh towards you.” Saburo hisses at the end. Save one inner robe, Kotarou had pealed the layers of clothing off his upper body. They were turning into a pile by his feet and as eager hands work to unwrap his undergarments, an arduous mouth was hungrily feasting on his delicate neck... biting, nipping, and sucking down the curve of one shoulder.

With a rough hand, he pulls the shinobi’s head towards his torso to let him suckle his sensitive breast. Saburo stifles the moans about to escape his lips by clutching Naoe’s kerchief so tightly on his other hand.

His eyes, which had gleamed with feigned anger were now dilated with need and glazed with something stronger than hatred.

~TBC

95 – Remember the unknown person at the end of Ch. 27 pretending to be a huge fly on the wall? And being privy to the wolf-tiger-giant triangle’s angsty moments too… we all met him before. He was last seen with Kousaka. *Cackles.

Post A/N: Whew, I’m seriously getting way out of control with the erotica… I bet it’s scaring some of you away but I just can’t help writing it! XD Anyway do remind me if it’s becoming a PWP. I certainly prefer plot over smut content. I’m also eager to hear about your opinions. Saburo is seriously torn between his two lovers but I want him to get away with having the both of them! I’m also torn about making him choose! M’aider!

About the rape part: Marquis de Sade you tempter in my head…
- 27
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400 Years Apart