Constant Fascination
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Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
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Category:
+S to Z › Samurai 7
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,558
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Samurai 7, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Unorthodox
Pairing: (Thoughts of) Katsushiro/female Kyuuzou
Word Count: 1300
Unorthodox
I\'ve come to offer myself to you, samurai-sama. In any way that you will have me.
He rehearsed the words in his mind, summoning his courage for the task at hand, though he pushed branches out of his way with shaking hands and a pounding pulse.
I will devote my body, my thoughts, my desire to you. You will find me a most avid student.
As Katsushiro crept forward, a twig cracked underfoot, and his resolve cracked with it. He cringed, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing, knowing he was caught, his panic rising--
He shook his head, slowed his breath. He intended to see this through. Steeling himself, he made his way into the clearing, and his crimson quarry came into view. He paused, gazing in silence at the blonde warrior asleep at the base of a tree, and contemplated his course of action.
* * *
Unorthodox, his old sensei had said with furrowed brow. Most of the students here have almost a decade\'s training on you. That first visit to the town dojo had left Katsushiro dismayed. But the youth had been determined, dedicating himself to both art and science, using every spare moment for practice, falling asleep with his head in books and scrolls. After several years, it became clear that he had learned all that he was going to within those dojo walls. He set out on his own, traveling for nearly six months in search of a new and proper sensei when he auspiciously crossed paths with Kanbei-sama.
Numerous times in Kougakyo, in Kanna, Katsushiro had wanted to discuss one particular subject with Kambei in quiet hours and private quarters, to make late-night candle flames dance as he breathed the word: shudo. But he was clueless as to where to begin, humiliated at the mere thought of the different ways in which Kanbei might react. It didn\'t help that Kanbei was cold and cryptic on a good day; though he continued Katsushiro\'s education in the way of the sword, Kanbei gave no indication that he intended to make "the way of young men" a part of his apprenticeship. But Katsushiro was at the prime age for such a relationship, as a variety of texts made clear. He was adamant--he would not be denied this experience, not when he was playing catch up in so many other respects, not when he still had so much to prove.
But if he could not turn to Kanbei for this, then who?
* * *
Kyuuzou-dono...a woman. A woman? Well, that ruined everything. One could not practice shudo with a woman.
The discovery he made at Tsubasaiwa while observing Kyuuzou and Kirara together left him stunned and disappointed, even a little angry. He had taken so much time, carefully weighing each of the samurai in his mind, was sure that he had come to a good and obvious decision. Kyuuzou, the bold and fearless fighter. Kyuuzou, the warrior of both strength and grace.
Kyuuzou, the expert swordswoman. Unbelievable.
Over the next few days, something snuck in and took the place of his shock--a persistent, peculiar interest in the samurai. Watching her practice in the mornings, Katsushiro tried to focus on her technique...and found himself staring at her chest, her waist, her hips (how had he missed that telltale flare all this time?). During the nights, after everyone was asleep and all was too quiet, he couldn\'t keep thoughts of her at bay, imagining that messy blonde hair brushing against his forehead and cheeks, her breath on his face. He ached to be over her, under her, kneeling before her, to have those sword-strong fingers combing through his hair, guiding his head as he slipped his tongue inside of her, her thighs squeezing as she took her pleasure in his mouth. I\'ll teach you everything you want to know, his fantasy-Kyuuzou whispered in his ear, as he panted and whimpered under her touch, as she pumped his cock with a grip as commanding as any man\'s--
I\'ll do whatever you ask of me, he wanted to plead to her, spurting all over his own hand there in the middle of the night. I\'ll be your clay for the shaping. I\'ll beg you for it, if that\'s what you want.
By morning, bright sunlight brought him back to his senses. Shudo was a revered tradition, specific in its structure; to try and engage in it with a woman would make of the practice a farce and a disgrace. Surely, there was something special, a depth and meaning found in the love between two men that could not be achieved between a man and a woman.
And yet, in some section of his mind, he couldn\'t entirely accept that. Kyuuzou-dono was one of the most accomplished samurai he had ever met, had heard the other samurai make similar statements. Didn’t it stand to reason that, if shudo was an intrinsic part of samurai education, and Kyuuzou was a shining example of their ranks, she would be an ideal candidate for this? Wouldn\'t it be to his benefit both professionally and personally to forge relations with someone of her caliber? Certainly, if she were a man. But she wasn\'t, and that fact derailed the logic of the system.
All of this was making his head hurt.
Katsushiro groaned, kicked a rock in his frustration and sent it rolling. Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes and sighed. After all the instruction he had received, all of the books he had read, all the times he had drawn his sword, he couldn’t believe that this was the thing that made him stop to seriously question the true definition of a samurai. He hated this confusing argument in his head, resented that he had no one to turn to for advice. He felt alone and abnormal, as he had from the beginning, as had every damn step of the way.
* * *
It seemed that Kyuuzou had not heard the twig snap, for she never moved.
Katsushiro proceeded with caution, though once his feet started moving, it was as if he couldn\'t stop them. After what he saw today--her return with the enemy\'s gun, her report of the scouting mission--how had he ever doubted that she was the right choice? There had been never been anything standard about his training, and there was no reason to expect that this would be different. Abandoning his misgivings to the wind, he approached the samurai, closing the distance between them.
I\'ve come to declare my commitment to you.
One of Kyuuzou\'s swords cut a deadly silver arc through the air, the tip poised at his throat like a giant fang.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Frozen in place, Katsushiro\'s heart was knocking in his chest, dread settling over him. He had no clue what was going through the samurai\'s mind, no way of telling what was going to happen next.
"Do you want to get killed?" There was a ragged edge to Kyuuzou\'s voice, a dark concern, as though in her half-awake state she had known someone was coming but not who, and comprehended the ugly way in which things could have transpired.
In his terror, Katsushiro scrabbled for some semblance of thought. I would be honored if you would have me. You are a most awe-inspiring samurai, a glorious woman. You--
"Y-you are a magnificent...person."
As he stuttered the words, he knew at his core that they were the right ones, that they were exactly what he had come to say, though he had not realized it until just then.
He turned and ran from the spot, sprinting into the trees, no sense of where he was headed. What a fool he had been. All this time, he\'d been wondering how she fit the definition of a samurai, when the real question was, had always been, if it fit him, or if it ever would.
Word Count: 1300
Unorthodox
I\'ve come to offer myself to you, samurai-sama. In any way that you will have me.
He rehearsed the words in his mind, summoning his courage for the task at hand, though he pushed branches out of his way with shaking hands and a pounding pulse.
I will devote my body, my thoughts, my desire to you. You will find me a most avid student.
As Katsushiro crept forward, a twig cracked underfoot, and his resolve cracked with it. He cringed, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing, knowing he was caught, his panic rising--
He shook his head, slowed his breath. He intended to see this through. Steeling himself, he made his way into the clearing, and his crimson quarry came into view. He paused, gazing in silence at the blonde warrior asleep at the base of a tree, and contemplated his course of action.
* * *
Unorthodox, his old sensei had said with furrowed brow. Most of the students here have almost a decade\'s training on you. That first visit to the town dojo had left Katsushiro dismayed. But the youth had been determined, dedicating himself to both art and science, using every spare moment for practice, falling asleep with his head in books and scrolls. After several years, it became clear that he had learned all that he was going to within those dojo walls. He set out on his own, traveling for nearly six months in search of a new and proper sensei when he auspiciously crossed paths with Kanbei-sama.
Numerous times in Kougakyo, in Kanna, Katsushiro had wanted to discuss one particular subject with Kambei in quiet hours and private quarters, to make late-night candle flames dance as he breathed the word: shudo. But he was clueless as to where to begin, humiliated at the mere thought of the different ways in which Kanbei might react. It didn\'t help that Kanbei was cold and cryptic on a good day; though he continued Katsushiro\'s education in the way of the sword, Kanbei gave no indication that he intended to make "the way of young men" a part of his apprenticeship. But Katsushiro was at the prime age for such a relationship, as a variety of texts made clear. He was adamant--he would not be denied this experience, not when he was playing catch up in so many other respects, not when he still had so much to prove.
But if he could not turn to Kanbei for this, then who?
* * *
Kyuuzou-dono...a woman. A woman? Well, that ruined everything. One could not practice shudo with a woman.
The discovery he made at Tsubasaiwa while observing Kyuuzou and Kirara together left him stunned and disappointed, even a little angry. He had taken so much time, carefully weighing each of the samurai in his mind, was sure that he had come to a good and obvious decision. Kyuuzou, the bold and fearless fighter. Kyuuzou, the warrior of both strength and grace.
Kyuuzou, the expert swordswoman. Unbelievable.
Over the next few days, something snuck in and took the place of his shock--a persistent, peculiar interest in the samurai. Watching her practice in the mornings, Katsushiro tried to focus on her technique...and found himself staring at her chest, her waist, her hips (how had he missed that telltale flare all this time?). During the nights, after everyone was asleep and all was too quiet, he couldn\'t keep thoughts of her at bay, imagining that messy blonde hair brushing against his forehead and cheeks, her breath on his face. He ached to be over her, under her, kneeling before her, to have those sword-strong fingers combing through his hair, guiding his head as he slipped his tongue inside of her, her thighs squeezing as she took her pleasure in his mouth. I\'ll teach you everything you want to know, his fantasy-Kyuuzou whispered in his ear, as he panted and whimpered under her touch, as she pumped his cock with a grip as commanding as any man\'s--
I\'ll do whatever you ask of me, he wanted to plead to her, spurting all over his own hand there in the middle of the night. I\'ll be your clay for the shaping. I\'ll beg you for it, if that\'s what you want.
By morning, bright sunlight brought him back to his senses. Shudo was a revered tradition, specific in its structure; to try and engage in it with a woman would make of the practice a farce and a disgrace. Surely, there was something special, a depth and meaning found in the love between two men that could not be achieved between a man and a woman.
And yet, in some section of his mind, he couldn\'t entirely accept that. Kyuuzou-dono was one of the most accomplished samurai he had ever met, had heard the other samurai make similar statements. Didn’t it stand to reason that, if shudo was an intrinsic part of samurai education, and Kyuuzou was a shining example of their ranks, she would be an ideal candidate for this? Wouldn\'t it be to his benefit both professionally and personally to forge relations with someone of her caliber? Certainly, if she were a man. But she wasn\'t, and that fact derailed the logic of the system.
All of this was making his head hurt.
Katsushiro groaned, kicked a rock in his frustration and sent it rolling. Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes and sighed. After all the instruction he had received, all of the books he had read, all the times he had drawn his sword, he couldn’t believe that this was the thing that made him stop to seriously question the true definition of a samurai. He hated this confusing argument in his head, resented that he had no one to turn to for advice. He felt alone and abnormal, as he had from the beginning, as had every damn step of the way.
* * *
It seemed that Kyuuzou had not heard the twig snap, for she never moved.
Katsushiro proceeded with caution, though once his feet started moving, it was as if he couldn\'t stop them. After what he saw today--her return with the enemy\'s gun, her report of the scouting mission--how had he ever doubted that she was the right choice? There had been never been anything standard about his training, and there was no reason to expect that this would be different. Abandoning his misgivings to the wind, he approached the samurai, closing the distance between them.
I\'ve come to declare my commitment to you.
One of Kyuuzou\'s swords cut a deadly silver arc through the air, the tip poised at his throat like a giant fang.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Frozen in place, Katsushiro\'s heart was knocking in his chest, dread settling over him. He had no clue what was going through the samurai\'s mind, no way of telling what was going to happen next.
"Do you want to get killed?" There was a ragged edge to Kyuuzou\'s voice, a dark concern, as though in her half-awake state she had known someone was coming but not who, and comprehended the ugly way in which things could have transpired.
In his terror, Katsushiro scrabbled for some semblance of thought. I would be honored if you would have me. You are a most awe-inspiring samurai, a glorious woman. You--
"Y-you are a magnificent...person."
As he stuttered the words, he knew at his core that they were the right ones, that they were exactly what he had come to say, though he had not realized it until just then.
He turned and ran from the spot, sprinting into the trees, no sense of where he was headed. What a fool he had been. All this time, he\'d been wondering how she fit the definition of a samurai, when the real question was, had always been, if it fit him, or if it ever would.