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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
- 29
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Chapter 30:

ULTIMARINA, Pearl in the Deep: Part 8

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: Language implying coughcoughsex and some touching.

…

A gushing sigh, more tinkling laughter, and hushed coos of adoration could only reach Tono-sama’s new mysterious vassal from afar. High ladies of the court, some wives of key vassals within the daimyo’s inner circle dressed in the finest silk kimonos gently push and usher each other to steal several glimpses of their most recent fantasy while safely staying hidden.

Their most desired person was sitting cross-legged by the partially opened shoji of his living quarters. His long hair, which was usually neatly tied in a high knot was worn down until the tips touch his lower back. Nagashiro, whose name was the only thing known about him faced their vantage point sideways. He wore a cool, unaffected countenance as he continued on a certain task.

It was rumored that he never smiled.

Not even the loveliest woman or the most beautiful young man was able to make him look his/her way. A look of disinterest seems frozen in his handsome features. Yet it was difficult not to fall for his physical attributes alone. He was very tall with an imposing figure radiating supreme strength and infallibility. Contrary to a warrior’s burly figure, he possessed a lean, refined masculine physique. And like his collected demeanor, he also rarely spoke. All of these attributes appealed to the elder kokujin whom he bowed to with dignified grace and to the women who found his decorous but aloof manner pleasantly attractive.

They all wondered what he was doing at this early morn.

Was he polishing his sword?

Was he writing a letter?

It was pretty difficult to make out from the angle they were hiding. With resolve and brimming curiosity they strained their bodies and craned their necks to find out when a delighted squeal suddenly rang out. The source was immediately shushed by her lady companions and after nervously checking upon the undisturbed posture of their subject of interest proceeds to explain herself.

“Nagashiro-dono is sewing! He is sewing a kerchief!”

The other honorable ladies all gave her a befuddled look, “Are you for real?” Their disbelief was not unfounded. Men of high rank and those maintaining a warrior-class image refuse to perform or even learn menial tasks that are considered ‘too feminine’ like doing the laundry or fixing a meal.

But as they managed to get a good view from piling a few rocks and gingerly standing on it, through the gap of tree leaves their doubts were soon replaced by awe. Who would have thought that a man perceived as unfeeling as a mountain of ice possessed dexterously capable hands in making a needle-and-thread glide through a cloth piece?

Dreamily, they thought in unison, ‘Who is the lucky one to receive that gesture of love?’

…

Paying his little audience no heed, Naoe critically inspected the dyed thread he had made. It was dyed in such a way that would make the small particles attached to it difficult to see even with a trained eye. The assortment of materials present before him would seem like a closeted artist’s paraphernalia. He had several ceramic bowls with different contents placed on them. Runny adhesive, herbal paste, strong dye, light-colored spun thread, cool and hot water, a plain linen fabric as cloth base, and ground powder whose effects are not innocent in the slightest bit.

Meticulously, the sohei master would dip the steaming dyed thread to the paste before quickly and thoroughly coating it in the ground powder. After resting it for a bit, he passes it on the cool water to remove impurities. When it was ready he would nonchalantly sew it on the base fabric to create a simple aesthetic pattern. With accurate repetition he would be finally able to hatch his plan.

It was a certain rival who inspired him in this ‘form of warfare’ after all.

“What a strange way to pass the time.” An uninvited presence casually drops by in a mere whisper of the wind.

“If you’re here to prattle, go away.” Nagashiro warned already more than annoyed of this intrusion.

“No. From the way I see it, you are very determined to take back something that was rightfully yours. It interests me watching people who are obsessed with possession. You and the daimyo are very much alike.” This was probably the longest sentence the master illusionist had said to someone in a long while.

A snap and then the shinobi jumped away as a flying needle nearly stabbed his eye.

“I dare you to say that again.” Nagashiro’s katana was halfway its scabbard but only nothingness faced him and sardonic tittering.

‘I’ll keep covering for you until that time comes, Saito-Rennyo-san*.’

*Naoe’s formal name as the Sohei Master

…

That shadow with many faces… Naoe could not let down his guard. Taking a deep breath he struggles to calm himself.

Why was he…?

Hesitating at a time like this? He covered his trembling hand with the other in a vain attempt at control.

As one of the Uesugi’s ten-ou, he indeed plans to carry out a whirlwind exit to knock the Hojo off-balance. But…

His most precious one… ‘I don’t want to hurt you. Why has it come to this? Why can’t you simply be Tsune, my wandering and beautiful Tengu? It would make taking you with me easier.’

Seeing the youth again (and being slapped by the daimyo) almost weakened him. He nearly wanted to throw himself at Saburo to hold him protectively and fuss over him like a hapless fool. Such irrational thought at that time that he ought to smack himself in the head.

And then when he was finally alone with the youth, maintaining his neutral façade tested his patience to its very limits. Several times he had wished to touch him, to caress his face, to comb his fingers on that silken hair, and to impose the warmth of his hands on that firm naked skin…

“!”

‘You lecher…

Thinking of him in that way again…’

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t stop it.

Even until now, his dreams were filled with lust and want of that boy.

Perverted dreams mixed with that recurring horrible nightmare of violating Saburo every night. To watch him squirm in pleasure, to listen to him make delicious noises… for those slender limbs to entwine around him so they would stay so close to one another until they were a single, fused being. It didn’t matter if the dream started pleasant, in the end it would always warp into something completely twisted… Saburo would cry, shriek in pain, and he would not stop rutting even as the beloved body would lay soaked in blood.

He would wake up, a scream of his own halfway out of his mouth before he would be able to calm himself down. Still the shivering and the cold sweat would take time to subside. And even then, to find himself equally aroused at the same time made him feel deeply rotten inside.

This nighttime ordeal was probably what urged him to keep a safe distance with the youth. But when Saburo did show him his tears, all adherence to caution fled his mind. Naoe’s body had unwittingly moved to close the space between them and before he really knew it, the frail kerchief was out. It was unfailingly planted on the intended agent who will carry it straight to his target.

He had made sure that the shadow watched their exchange. It was the other’s turn to see red with jealousy. Naoe plenty ascertained the possible reactions that would ensue from his actions. And when he saw Fuma Kotarou approach… he knew that the trap laid out for him was as good as done.

Who would have known that the small victory he gained would swiftly be forfeit in an instant?

The angry lash of karma struck him at the sight of his rival claiming the lips of his beloved. And the worst thing that cut him deep was not because Saburo returned the affectionate gesture but it was more of Naoe’s wounded expectation and bitter disappointment.

He had counted too much on his worth to Saburo.

He had believed that he was irreplaceable.

‘To be the only one by your side…

…Am I not enough?’

Even as he lay incapacitated on that cold floor in that desolate room being mocked by the shadow, Naoe had not believed a word he had said… that Saburo had indeed stopped thinking of him… that Saburo had completely forgotten how it felt to be held by him. And now seeing his beloved act so comfortable, so trusting within the arms of that unfeeling, deadly creature he couldn’t quite call a man was the ultimate blow that ruined Naoe Nobutsuna.

If Saburo had resisted, had turned away from Kotarou then he would have had the courage to run to him, seize him and do more unspeakable things to him before the other. But the youth did no such thing. He instead welcomed the other’s embrace like they were no longer master and servant.

“I am the young master’s contract.”

He did not believe that either.

Until Saburo’s body communicated to them perfectly well, “He is my contract,” and responded to the man’s act of possession.

Does this mean… are you telling me that the life you have now with your protector is perfectly fine as it is?

Is there no room you have left for me?

I’m just an outsider now.

But I…

A man cannot be called a man if he doesn’t think about himself.

…

That night he fled the scene, after giving his pitiful excuses to Ujimasa-kou, Nagashiro had retired to his rooms.

In complete solitude, the quiet and darkness of the night for company with only one scene replaying constantly in his mind, Nobutsuna wept.

He had been too late to secure his place in his beloved’s heart.

But his stubborn self refused to accept that.

He didn’t wish to give up on Saburo.

The very thought of letting him go killed Naoe.

And now to fulfill his desire, he had to steal Saburo from his current happiness.

By making Saburo as his, he would essentially be causing his beloved excruciating pain.

‘Such is the depth of this man’s selfishness for you…’

When he could cry no more, the tears having completely dried, determination stronger than steel materialized at the core of his soul.

‘My beloved… no matter what it takes, I will most definitely have you.’

***

“I still want to have my way with you.” Kotarou tried to restrain the need that thickened his voice but his charge heard it keenly enough.

“Then, what are you…?” The youth huffed with a confused look only to witness Kotarou undressing before him.

“I still want to pleasure you with my mouth but if you come, won’t you be tired for more?” The man said with a hint of challenge as he shed the dark burgundy fitted garb he wore for the night.

The lordling’s eyes hungrily devour every expanse of skin exposed even when he snapped, “And since when is that up to you to decide?” He was about to sit up and pretend to not want it anymore then dismiss Kotarou coldly as revenge for having changed his mood.

But the sight of the man completely nude, agile and defined lean body in full view to be appreciated… Saburo once again caught himself staring blatantly at the strong, flexible visage of his protector. His wide eyes travel from where Kotarou’s spidery fingers untie the riband binding his long black hair as they cascade down his back in straight silken strands and wander further down where a man’s object was monstrously upright. “Then what has Wakasama decided upon?” Kotarou asked with a knowing glint in his very dark gaze.

Saburo gulped. He knows…

The shadow wasn’t about to let him off easy tonight… In fact the shinobi plans to please his young master to exhaustion until he can’t even stand. I'll keep him off your mind. As he covered the tense smaller body with his larger frame he intertwined their hands together, easily snatching that troublesome kerchief away. The youth’s cry of protest was swallowed by a sly mouth that insistently wrapped around his own.

The man becomes entranced on the rosy hue tainting his beloved’s face when all of a sudden sharp pain stung his lip.

Salty, tangy, blood…

His young master had bitten him and it wasn’t careful in the least for he was shoved away with a strength unheard of from the young general-in-training. “Give that back!”

The young master was furious and not only that... he has stood with the stance of a warrior.

…Combative and aroused was an intriguing combination. Does this mean that Kotarou needs not to hold back in dealing with his young master anymore? This probability was so enticing that the elite shinobi dangled the coveted kerchief before the youth and proceeded to tear it slowly into pieces.

***

As fragile fabric tore… the malicious particles concealed in it were released in the air. At the first inhale of the closest vulnerable person … they swiftly invade the bloodstream and the effects become pronounced within a matter of moments.

Even if the victim happens to be a shinobi and awareness of being drugged would be sooner than expected, the outcome would still be inevitable.

A potent aphrodisiac when formulated correctly… this one was the ‘Earth’ of Kohryu being dry and having used components made from nature. To differentiate, the crippling mist that once enveloped the inner bailey of Odawara-jo knocking several kokujin unconscious was the ‘Air’ of Kohryu.

It didn’t matter if one was immune to the elements for when it comes to the ‘Earth’ its efficacy and variety depended heavily on the formula of its maker.

Kotarou realized far too late that his jealousy had earned him this defeat. Feeling his heartbeat speed up, his senses afire, and the raging, all-consuming desire that was so unusual of him the shadow struggled for control. At this rate he would end up forcing his need on his young master. He absolutely could not let that happen.

He would rather exhaust himself and compromise his vitality than risk hurting his beloved.

Secretly and with steady concentration, Kotarou endured the twinges of pain every time he delayed their coupling. He must make the youth thoroughly aroused first before he could allow true intercourse between them lest he become a mindless beast and rut with abandon.⁹⁶

‘So he wanted me to forget myself and hurt Saburo in the process. That bastard… he dared come up with such a plan!’

‘I am Wakasama’s protector. I WILL NOT LOSE TO YOU, Sohei.’

Every time the evil temptation would come whispering in his head to just take Saburo, to simply push it in… Kotarou would hold himself back and though the longer he did, the more he suffered, he recklessly and resolutely held on.

He did not succumb to it until the very end…

‘I will not violate my beloved.’

‘I will not cause harm on my most precious one.’

As if mercy from the heavens rained down, the youth took initiative and actively participated in their sex. He spurred Kotarou on… Saburo encouraged his contract to revel in their pleasure to the fullest.

The last things that registered on Kotarou’s consciousness before it went out was gratitude and love… so much love.

XxXMOBXxX

Skittering past wide hallways, squeezing themselves in between walls to avoid detection of the night patrollers, and hiding behind trees on spacious grounds was what it took Saburo and Haruhie this far into the sannomaru or the third bailey of the castle.

“Saburo-gimi, do we have to keep going? Where exactly is this Nagashiro staying among the quarters?” Haruhie whispered as they crouched behind a bush.

Saburo shushed him. “It’s very close. The ladies of the court’s information was accurate. And damn, is it a pain to hide you! You’re way taller than me; what do you eat to achieve that body of yours?”

Haruhie gave him a sheepish grin. “Vegetables.”

The lordling made a face and the page chuckled quietly. ‘He doesn’t believe me.’

“Let me ask you… Does sake have an effect on growth or something?”

The page nearly burst out laughing but quickly stopped himself as he noticed the adorably serious countenance of his lord. “It must be your mother, Saburo-gimi.”

“Huh?”

“You are very beautiful. You must have taken after her body frame.” Haruhie said with a faraway nostalgic expression that immediately suppressed the lordling’s indignant ire.

A rosy blush crept into Saburo’s face which he dispelled with an irritated huff. “Why are we having small talk when time is not ours?” He dusts himself and silently proceeds deeper into the cluster of bamboo.

Haruhie almost panics and hurriedly goes after him.

In the light of the full moon a small house surrounded by a wooden fence becomes visible in the clearing. Haruhie held on to his young lord’s sleeve as he attempts to remove the lock. “What?” Saburo calmly asks.

“Saburo-gimi the house is very dark. I don’t think anyone is there. Perhaps, Nagashiro-dono is asleep already?” There was a strange feeling of dread that suddenly bloomed in Haruhie’s heart. Staying in this place was giving him unpleasant shivers. It was as if something ominous was about to happen.

“We won’t know that until we try. If you are afraid, step back.” Despite the same trepidations that Saburo was experiencing, he was determined to obtain answers for Hanaiin. As he pulls the lock free off the small gate he draws his blade and cautiously approach the house.

Ashamed of his earlier behavior, Haruhie rushes beside his master who was almost by the steps, eying the door critically.

Sneaking into Nagashiro’s rooms, the memory of that night returned to him. It was the very same atmosphere when he was about to storm inside that guard tower where his cousin was last seen. Casting a firmer grip on his katana he moves forward slashing the shoji in halves so the moonlight could dissolve the darkness within.

Still assuming a fighting stance he searches the place with a stable aura of strict vigilance.

Saburo didn’t stop until the tip of his blade rests below the chin of the source of such frightening chi.

From the time when the boy had trespassed in his territory, Nagashiro had not moved a slight from this sitting position. “Your form has incredibly improved since the last time we met in this way. You no longer exude that much fear of a nervous brat.”

“Don’t mock me.” The youth carefully laid down his weapon but did not sheathe it.

“What brings you to my humble abode, my lord?” Nagashiro asked and discreetly smiled when he struck a nerve.

“Reverting to that manner again? Why are you… so…? Never mind.”

At that very moment, Haruhie stepped in catching Naoe’s full attention.

The Uesugi general’s eyes widen when his beloved’s companion turned out to be Kakizaki Kageie’s son. “Saburo-gimi, it’s not wise to be so close to this man. He is dangerous!” Haruhie tries to tug him away.

“It is alright, Haruhie. I have made up my mind.”

“Saburo-gimi, what are you saying? You can’t possibly…”

Nagashiro stands also with his blade drawn and throws something at the pair. Haruhie shields his master and was surprised to feel nothing.

Unbeknownst to them, a sleeping dart had struck the page’s arm and its effects would spread soon.

Saburo shoves his friend out of the way and intercepts Naoe’s weapon that unexpectedly had its sights on Haruhie for no apparent reason. “Go!”

“But Saburo-gimi, I can’t—”

“I was foolish to bring you into this! Pretend that you haven’t been here!” Saburo yells as he slides free off Naoe’s blade and dodges another incoming blow deftly.

“I’ll call for help!” As much as he hated it, Haruhie was forced to leave to bring reinforcements.

To further Saburo’s confusion, Naoe makes no move to pursue the page when the two of them were alone.

“What is with you?”

Naoe laughs. Plan or no plan things are not going smoothly. Right at this crucial moment when he was about to abandon his post here and take Saburo with him, his other target had to appear. Well no matter, he would just play by fate for as long as he acquires what he wanted the most.

“Were you too cowardly to come meet me alone that you had to bring someone else? There, is that better?” Naoe speaks uncouthly as he slowly advances towards the boy.

Saburo reminds himself of his purpose and tries not to let those cruel words get to him. “Fine. Call me a coward for doing so but I am here to keep my word.”

“You’re saying that you’ll willingly…”

“Yes. Please take me to my cousin and like I said in exchange for her freedom, I will hand myself over to you.” The lordling recites his promise at the cave unwaveringly.

“What a tempting offer.” Naoe appears to lay low only to suddenly come charging at him with his katana in full swing.

The lithe body bends forward and slides the non-dominant foot towards his opponent and with the blunt edge of his sword caught between palm and thumb lifts his weapon to contradict the descending force. “You certainly have gotten more skilled if you managed to block like this.” Naoe delights in the fierce determination shining in those eyes he loved so much. He withdraws and the youth does the same.

“Please do not misunderstand. I brought my katana not to fight you but to show you that I came as a man worthy of negotiations. I also apologize for the behavior of my page who wasn’t in the know of my true intentions of coming here. I will also explain thoroughly in your defense if the kokujin arrive. So about my proposal…”

“I refuse.” Naoe lied. Conflicting emotions were once again clouding his reason. So you came here not to see me personally but to plea for the safety of your cousin. Can’t you understand that I am jealous of anyone who you bring up in the guise of being with me? “No matter your sword skill or your diplomatic intention you are still a boy who hasn’t come of age.”

“But…” The hope in the youth’s eyes starts to dim.

“And how dare you come here carrying the scent of your lover! Have you no shame?” Naoe’s composure shattered. He now showed the youth his utmost displeasure, his rage, and his jealousy.

“I…” A humiliating shade makes the youth stare at the floor that was until a large palm cradled his cheek coaxing him to look back up.

Naoe’s face was shrouded with anguish. “That man… what is he to you? What am I… to you? The answer to that is what I want to know.”

The youth was shocked to see tears falling from the man’s eyes. “Naoe…?”

“And don’t you dare lie to me. You… you would not give your body to someone you hate! So tell me…”

“What can my answer do? Will it change the way things are right now?” Saburo quietly asks and gasps in surprise when Naoe pulled him into an embrace.

“Your answer can rid this pitiful man of his self-doubt. His worth depends on the words from your lips.” The man said brokenly by his ear.

“I have… given my body to you. You were the first one I have lain with. What you are to me… what I feel for you… is something so painful it wounds the heart. But I bear this pain because I want to. You are… very important to me,” Was the embodiment of the youth’s suffering brought out in a tender confession.

You have also given your body to HIM.

And yet, the man insensate in his jealousy could only respond with, “Do you say that to every man you deem important? Did you tell your lover tonight the same exact thing?” A mischievous hand had crept past the barriers of clothing.

Saburo stiffened and bites his lip as he felt fingers trace the dampness still leaking at the rosette of his opening. “Do you know what I want to do to you right now… at this very moment? I want to bathe you… I will sink my fingertips in your most delicate place and rid you of the essence tainting your insides. Then after I have cleansed you at my satisfaction, I will proceed to take you. I’d push my erect flesh inside you, making sure to hit your naughty spot every time, excite you to come so many times and then… I WILL MAKE YOU SO FULL WITH MY SEED, YOUR BODY WOULD NOT HUNGER FOR ANOTHER MAN EVER AGAIN!” The man’s detailed, dirty and explicit words trigger something vulnerable in the youth.

“You… vile, disgusting…” The fear finally sets in and Saburo attempts to pull away but Naoe held fast.

Taking hold of one wrist and the other hand now cupping the growing bulge that betrayed the youth, Naoe’s gaze darkened considerably. “If I’m vile and disgusting, what does that make you? Did you enjoy your time with your lover? But he couldn’t satisfy you, could he? How could he when he fell asleep right after he came?”

Kotarou’s uncharacteristic behavior during their intimacy finally started making sense. With the back of his hand, Saburo struck the face of the man, drew back and picked up his katana once again. “You! What have you done to Kotarou?”

Being physically admonished by his beloved, Naoe crumbled a bit. He was silent for a while before he too remade his stance. It was the one he wore during that night: one hand on the handle and the other free.   “I just tested his devotion to you a little. And though I loathe to admit, he is indeed one extraordinary rival.”

Was Naoe serious? Are they really going to settle this with a duel? Is there no other way he can convince this man?

Without word or warning, Naoe suddenly lunges at him. He was so fast, the youth almost didn’t see him move.

Catching one hit, dodging the next, Saburo was made to run around the room, knocking furniture over to slow his opponent’s approach, which had not accomplished that intent at all. Headstrongly, Naoe advanced on him, an overhead slash that he barely evaded— the youth jumped to the side, rolled swiftly to his feet and had trouble deflecting another strike.

Crouched on the floor and knowing to be unable to fully block the incoming blow in this position, the lordling resorted to the tatami, pulling it out and thrusting it up as shield. Using the distraction of Naoe cutting it up, Saburo moved for the blind spot and recklessly thrust his weapon forward. He managed to nick the man’s side but then Naoe already had a countermove prepared.

A swinging sound whooshed by Saburo’s ears as he turned sweeping his blade sideways to deflect Naoe’s powerful strike. They were once more caught in a deadlock with the youth threatened to lose his grip and the man in total advantage.

“If you can’t beat me, there will be no room for negotiations.” Nagashiro said coldly reverting to his samurai façade.

Saburo disengaged and retreated several steps back. Perspiration rolled from his head and down his neck. This battle… he could not hope to win. Despite the harsh trainings and massive adjustments on his sword style he was still no match for this man. Both of them knew it so why…?

How could the man he had come to know, respect and… cherish change so drastically?

‘He is no longer the same…

I… can’t get him back?’

This realization brought such sorrow that Saburo could no longer keep his focus on the duel. However another abrupt stroke flashed and the youth instinctively deflected it.

“You’ll get killed with that listless attitude. Your enemy won’t wait for you.” Nagashiro said coolly already on the move again. Secretly, he was proud that the boy’s kenjutsu instincts were very sharp to rival his.

“Someone to beat you? Enemy? Is that what I have become to you?” An intense pang of hurt stabbed the youth. He threw down his weapon; a shadow falling over his tortured expression.

“So that’s all there is to it. I’m nothing more but an enemy to you.” Naoe stopped dead. Those very words… they were his! Saburo had woundedly tossed them back at him.

*

*

‘What am I doing?—’

*

“There at my feet is my katana. We both know that I can’t beat you in this duel and the inevitable outcome would be my loss or even my death. If that is what you desire for compensation in return for my cousin’s safety then take my life. You can even use my sword to cut me down however you please.” Toneless, defeated, hopeless… Saburo said very quietly to him.

Aghast, severely horrified that it had come to this, Naoe’s hand fell limply at his sides. ‘Because of my jealousy… I almost…! “My beloved… forgive me, I do not know what I am doing. I only want to…”

“Right this way!” Haruhie’s voice interrupted what Naoe was about to say. “They are in here—” A shadowy figure scooped up the page who instantly went still in his grasp and faster than any of the kokujin could follow glided inside to join Naoe.

“Trouble, Saito-Rennyo-san. We should leave now when we still have time. Those irksome Fuma are headed right this way.” Kato Danzo, the master illusionist said cheekily still holding an unconscious Haruhie.

The sight of his friend dangling helplessly captive by this stranger had Saburo rushing towards them, “Haruhie!”

Naoe promptly takes action and knocks the lordling out cold while the kokujin and Hojo Ujimasa storm inside.

“Nagashiro, what is the meaning of this?” The daimyo coolly demands.

“My name is Naoe Nobutsuna, vassal of the Uesugi. For your convenience I will verbally reiterate that: Negotiations shall be done at Hatsushima Island,” were the deserter’s parting words as he cradled the unmoving Saburo to him protectively.

“WHAT?”

By the time the kokujin charged towards the abductors an explosion echoed into the night followed by a blanket of thick nearly opaque mist.

It was a smoke bomb.

By the time the cumbersome smoke cleared, the confused musha-tai saw two figures dash in separate directions. Quick on their feet they strove to follow only for their targets to vanish on them while in plain sight.

“Where did they go?” One of the captains yelled in panic.

“Those retreating things were nothing but illusions. That shinobi and my traitorous vassal have already left and have covered significant distance. We would not be able to catch up on foot.” The Sagami no Kami calmly answered him.

“But Ujimasa-sama, they have taken Saburo-sama and the Uesugi hostage away! Why do you appear so composed?” The bushi was at the end of his wits much to Ujimasa’s amusement.

The daimyo merely clasps his shoulder and walks to where his shadow had just arrived.

“Aniue* has been poisoned, Tono-sama. But his strong blood is already combating the harmful effects as we speak. He will wake after a couple of days and be in perfect condition.” Akito reported about Kotarou’s state with only moderate concern and the daimyo nodded for his effort.

*Elder brother

“Two days you say? That’s more than enough time for us to construct a plan to crush the anthill at Hatsushima. I suppose Uesugi Kenshin’s army is already impatient for me. I think Takeda Shingen can wait for a while longer… if he lives that long.” Ujimasa-kou finished ominously and heads right back to the palace with his dutiful Fuma assassins attuned to his every step.

‘Fear not, my precious otouto*, you are in good hands.’

‘Aniue will come and save you.’

*Younger brother

XxXMOBXxX

Hojo Ujimasa hides his grin with a sip of his tea as an intricately decorated object was dropped unceremoniously at his feet. “And what should I do with that, Danzo?”

“You can do whatever with it. Hit a few monkeys in the head⁹⁷.” Kato Danzo, the master illusionist nonchalantly replied.

He had finally managed to get the wayward shinobi’s full attention with his little walk at his secret shrine.

“Don’t speak like that. I’m different from Nobunaga.” Ujimasa places the tea bowl down and examines the fine katana.

“You are not much different from Nobunaga-dono. You’re both tacticians to the core. The only difference is that he’s more on the offensive when you’re not.” Danzo busied himself folding paper cranes and making them disappear at will or folding them so small that they literally become minute pebbles.

“Tell me… is this really Shingen’s or Kenshin’s? I heard Shingen have you steal one of Kenshin’s favorite swords only for the latter to ask you to retrieve it… Or is it the other way around?” The blade was in top shape. The glossy shine of the edge was marvelous to behold.

“Are you trying to confuse me or confuse yourself? Kenshin-dono doesn’t trust me. He sent me on a fool’s errand. He was hoping Shingen-dono would execute me. Ha, tough luck on them both.” There was really no humor in his voice as he said it.

“Hmm, so what made you betray Shingen?”

“Are you asking me why I handed the Takeda’s ceremonial sword of succession to you so no one could lead them to war?” The master illusionist’s teeth was very white it was almost disturbing.

“Weak men don’t interest you then?” Tono-sama raised a brow.

“Eh, if Shingen-sama was not ill it would be Saburo-dono in the Takeda camp—” Small droplets of red were running down the shinobi’s forehead. Danzo began to cackle. It had been a while since he tasted his own blood… or not.

Ujimasa sighed, put the blade away in disinterest and resumed sipping his tea. “Next time, it would really be your blood dripping down my tatami.”

“Moody, just like Nobunaga.” Danzo chuckled some more.

XxXMOBXxX

Saburo stirred at the rocking motions of something he lied on. He sat up and rubbed at the dull pain on his nape and was surprised by the strong smell of the sea. When he reclaimed his awareness he discovered he was not in his room. How could this be his room if the constant sway and the sound of the waves could be heard? Studying his surroundings he could tell by the bright light from the small cracks at the door that it was daytime and the sparse furnishing, the thin futon for three, and the few barrels serving as makeshift table or chair that he was in a cabin of a modest-sized vessel.

He finds that he was only dressed in his haori while his zori⁹⁸, vest and hakama were neatly folded at one corner. Gingerly feeling for any injury he soon realizes in alarm that he was not wearing any undergarments! Sadly the door had to open at that moment to admit Naoe inside with a tray of food. The youth hastily throws the blanket over his exposed legs.

“We are almost halfway our destination. You have been asleep for more than a day. Please eat if you’re hungry. They are only simple rice and fish but I seasoned them well so they should be tasty.” Naoe said so many things at once that he was practically babbling. None however explained Saburo’s current state.

“Do you treat hostages this nicely?” Saburo could not even muster his usual death glare. Naoe’s behavior briefly reminded him on their exchange when said man proposed to elope with him. He seems the gentle and thoughtful man the youth had come to know but one can’t be too sure.

Naoe lowered his head as if struck by some pleasant musings and answered, “This is how I always wanted to treat you… Saburo.”

Alright, could he ask about his missing cloth piece now? The youth took a deep breath, opened his mouth and…

“I have washed your undergarment. It will be dry soon.” Naoe had to beat him to that too.

Saburo was now more than embarrassed. He dove into the linen and rolled himself into a cocoon. This was how he planned to start the day as a… hostage. I’m not a princess, damn it!

Will Haruhie come in and unroll him from his sanctuary soon? Speaking of— where was Haruhie?

“Saburo…”

“I’m not talking to you.” He harrumphed and trusted that Haruhie was fine enough to give him time to sulk.

The master illusionist could only laugh some more. He would not be bored spying on this trio either.

~TBC

96 – Imagine the EXCRUCIATING ORDEAL Kotarou must be facing while being intimate with Saburo who continues to provoke him at each turn of their lovemaking! What could have happened to him if Saburo did reject him? Ack—! The horror! But then again one has to think about the horrors of Naoe’s torture while in Kotarou’s hands. That would make things even.

97 – Monkey… was Oda Nobunaga’s pet name for Toyotomi Hideyoshi back when the latter was the former’s sandal-bearer. Source: Tenchijin;

98 – Outdoor footwear;

Post A/N: It’s finally Naoe’s turn to prove his love! It’s tough being in love with your supposed enemy. Please leave a review if you like it. I also take kindly to some suggestions. *Wink;
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400 Years Apart