Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

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
- 40
- 41
- 42
Chapter 41:

Hokutoshichisei Arc: Part One

A/N: When the sickle-shaped seven stars appear in the sky…

Polydeuces’ twin brother, Castor will…

Here are some interchangeable terms:

Shadow = Shinobi/ninja

Warrior monk = Sohei

Additional Notes: (For Prologue)

BOLD He: Monarch

Normal he: Knight

…

…PROLOGUE…

If he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would most likely still have doubts. Though he was blessed to keep him constant company he found the emerging outcome of their plan relatively confounding. He may not look like it but he was always so secretive even to his kin. Aside from taking trips outside the castle premises with minimal protection and scrutiny, he also dons clothing that made lowly servants seem to wear fine garments in comparison. Though it was quite necessary if one belonged to the warrior class, he knew most of ‘them’ would throw a fit before their fingers touch any semblance of shabbiness.

Perhaps he was truly different from how people perceive him. How else could he visit her shrine every so often and without fail during special days? His dedication astounds him. His ability to blend seamlessly on crowds and deceive even his own subjects was very intriguing.

When the other statue was commissioned, he merely looked at it constantly. He simply admired from afar. He never touched. The look on his eyes as his hands hovered over cold sculpted stone always brought a chill to his spine. It was an expression he hoped never to see again but in vain…

The addition of the other statue made him think he had changed interests. But he was proven wrong when the day of her death came once more. He went to her carrying simple gifts without a second thought.

Sometimes he would take aimless walks on the shores of the secluded beach. He would sit on the sand with a battered sword beside him and he would watch the horizon for countless moments. At times he closed his eyes and seemed to listen for something. Was it the wind, unheeded voices deep beneath the waves or music in the far distance? He did not know.

He set off slumming again this time with a telltale twinkle in his eyes that spoke of mischief. He spoke casually of meeting some shy soul that refused to tell him tricks he found amusing. Also unsurprisingly, he was told not to follow. He knew he could handle himself well in a fight but it was only a question of number and expertise. Even he would not dare tackle his brother’s latest venture on his own.

It was fairly late when he came back. He was only relieved to see not a single scratch on him as he walked past with a small curling of lips. It appears he had gained something of value or won someone over. Coincidentally, the troublesome presence hanging about the castle’s innermost walls became much more bearable. Furthermore, a major enemy’s supposed invitation to war did not come.

When the youngest was taken away, he was somewhat anxious of his reaction. He was there when it happened for it was orchestrated well. But he simply asked what was going on as if nothing’s amiss. Even when his strongest warrior was reported to be incapacitated, his stride did not falter. Better yet he proposed they act as soon as possible.

That was why any elite member of the clan would begin protests when he requested to be dropped off in one of the coastal towns of Sagami Bay dressed accordingly. He was about to ask what he plans to do but prudently kept his silence when he saw local fishermen interact with islanders.

Contrary to what was said, they did not leave after two days. The plan was to take this route to the island in pairs spanning two days. They must be inconspicuous at all times as they approached.

Even up to the last remaining time, commoners or even the warrior class were not to be alerted of his presence on the island. And in an isolated place, superstitions and hearsays often prove useful to conceal facts and figures. Testing the waters using a few stunts to fool both inhabitants and outsiders became the last of their worries as the real threat surfaced.

And despite all these risks and disadvantages, he insists to do it alone.

…END OF PROLOGUE…



The source of daylight was fading.

They were moving farther and farther away from it. They were leaving the cave’s entrance.

Saburo could not help looking over his shoulder even as his captor ushered him along.

“Worried over something? Or… is it someone you are worried about, Saburo-dono?”

Saburo chose to ignore those taunting words and instead looked ahead. He had expected something close to suffocating dimness as they trudged on and yet the paths they took even the general surroundings were provided soft illumination like small torch fires. This place was not just some dank shelter. It was a functional lair. He immediately hated being led further around.

“Where are you taking me?” Saburo asked, halting his steps.

Kei actually stopped his stride. “Why, who else would you be worried about most but yourself?” He let a little chortle slip.

“You just confirmed my suspicions.” The youth expelled a shaky breath, mustering enough courage to glower at insuperable threat.

“Saburo-dono, truly, I have no idea of what you are talking about. All I do know is that you are significantly injured…” A single forefinger traced the rough line that marred a slender, sensually-shaped shoulder. “…for you to feel like a cornered animal.”

Saburo slapped the hand away. “Don't touch me.”

Kei made a show of rubbing the offended limb. “I was about to offer treating your wound. Sparring with you in such a frayed condition would not be proper, would it?”

The tiger’s glare intensified. “Are you mocking me? If you think I’m that daft to let you dabble with my injury, then I have no reason to deal with you.” Gritting his teeth past a strong bout of nerves, Saburo briskly turned his back intending to return where they came whence.

The lordling barely makes a couple of steps away before powerful fingers latched on to his wrist. He felt his bones grind painfully against each other at the slightest display of resistance. “Saburo-dono, I am being sincere.”

“What do you really plan to do to me?” The lordling willed his stubbornness down. Having a broken arm would not help him fare against this monstrous obstacle.

Loosening his intense grip, Kei deliberated if he should tell Saburo the truth covered in lies or tell him a lie, which held a scintilla of truth. Hmm… which would it be?

“Does it matter if I tell you or not, Saburo-dono? The outcome will always be the same.” Kei spoke carefully. A cryptic response was far more intimidating than any well-meant threat.

“You mean my death…” Saburo was back to struggling away from the creature that had no intention of divulging anything useful.

Kei held fast. “Oh no. If my goal was to take your life then why would I ensure to cover this much distance? Would it not be more entertaining if Naoe watched you be felled by my blade?”

“What?”Dark amber eyes widened as realization finally set in.

“You wanted to ignore this possibility, correct? But I have always intended to take you away when the duel ends.”

“You would never dare!” Anxiety makes the youth’s skin clammy with sweat. He averts his face for it conveys nothing but his distress to the enemy.

“I reckon you have noticed the subtle wind coming this way. It means we are nearing the Uesugi camp. There, Kagetora-kou waits with idling ships about to sail for mainland. By the time your comrades reach this place it will all be too late. They will forever wonder if you are dead or alive while I make my escape. What do you say if I used you to coerce the Hojo Overlord, your aniue*?” The executioner rarely uttered several crafty lies at once that would become void because of a single word.

The youth’s shoulders shook.

For a while, Kei disappointingly thought he had broken the boy too early only to be caught by surprise.

Saburo laughed.

It was not the peculiar sound produced by the defeated on the verge of madness but it was dark laughter borne of amusement. Oh how can he break it to him? Hanaiin would have had more value as a hostage. He, on the other hand would be a worthless implement either dead or alive. That was why he wanted to trade places with her in the first place. Ujimasa-kou would not even bat an eyelid at his disappearance. How could this fool, this executioner not comprehend that?

With Hanaiin being whisked away from his grasp and seeing Kotarou simultaneously made Saburo conclude that she must be in safe hands now. He had accomplished his objective. The Hojo had won. It does not matter now if he was lost to the clan. “You certainly mention interesting ways to make use of me.”

The abrupt cracks of surprise in Kei’s confident visage were replaced by dull passivity. And although his eyes stayed into narrowed slits his face was a frozen mask of blandness; his mouth a thin grim line. He seemed to have reverted to his lowly pitiable self Saburo once encountered at the seaside as they traded clashing philosophies about a supernatural enigma. “Saburo-dono, you sound like you are not afraid to die. I do not understand. I thought you were prey who would struggle until the very end. How would it be entertaining for me if you do not fight for your life?”If you would be like that, I would be forced to…

It was a transitory swing of Kei’s mood before he had Saburo pinned against the rocky wall trapping both arms at each side.

The youth grimaced in pain as his raw wound rubbed against the jagged surface but he maintained his detached countenance much to the executioner’s displeasure. But Kei was not in a hurry to wipe the smirk off the boy’s face. Saburo would not see what was coming until it was too late to regret his actions. Kei would distort this arrogant frame little by little until Saburo was wracked with so much anguish that he would squirm. “It does not matter what you do to me. If it’s torture on your mind it makes no difference. You want to know why? You have chosen the wrong hostage. No one among the Hojo would care whatever happens to me!”

Kei’s face loomed close, so close that his warm moist breath ghosted over Saburo’s skin. A mischievous flick of tongue on weeping red wound punctuated by a disgusted hiss, a soft chuckle and the game began. “Are you truly certain of that, Saburo-dono?”

“!” Saburo gasped as Kei released his bruised arms only for his body to slip to the ground, gracelessly, limply like a straw doll.

Kei observed the first slivers of panic on somewhat glassy amber eyes even as he merely stood over Saburo in a poor parody of a guardian.

The enemy’s grin widens. “I was so very certain, Saburo-dono that at least one of the Hojo would care about your well-being. But wouldn’t that be a waste if you yourself did not care?”

Saburo could not even lift his head as the figure of the man slowly edged away from his reclined form. “Wait!” The lordling managed to shout. Kei leered at the sound of his voice like a fanged serpent that discreetly slipped venom inside its prey. Ceasing his steps, he raised a slender brow.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“Oh? Is it not obvious enough? I have no use for a worthless hostage. So I am leaving you here to retrieve one.”

“Don’t fool around with me!” Saburo hollered.

“Make no mistake, Saburo-dono. I have already set my eyes on few interesting prey outside this cave. Kakizaki Kageie-dono’s son can equally provide the leverage we need to deal with Oda. If Uesugi Kenshin completely lost Kakizaki Kageie’s support to the Oda along with Kagetaka-ani’s withdrawal from the clan… Kenshin… No, Kagetora-kou would be down to a single key vassal: Irobe Katsunaga-dono. Yet rumors say he is not in the best of health.

Therefore, if we offer Kakizaki Haruhie to Oda Nobunaga-dono, Kakizaki Kageie will have no choice but to defer to our side.” The myriad of emotions flashing on the youth’s eyes was almost enough for Kei to drop his act, almost…

“Inconceivable! I’ll not allow you to hurt Haruhie! You… serve the Oda?” If Saburo had not let shock overwhelm him, he would have noticed that Kei had no actual intention of leaving him.

“How is it not so? Without the sohei and the shadow guards, the Bakufu is only a government by name. It is like an inept body with flailing limbs. We seem no different from nameless mercenaries. But when He came, everything changed. I see it now. He will conquer these scattered fiefdoms and build a unified nation out of every drop of blood! He will be the ideal ruler. He will carve a new government from the petty scraps of the old. He will be the Bakufu’s head. And the Bakufu will embody him as its rightful leader.” Ironically, the more emboldened his words become, the more passive were his features. Kei was once again that wandering man looking for intangible things like illusory sand bridges leading towards impossible realms.

“You… are the real traitor not Naoe! You plan to let the Uesugi crumble upon itself and use the Oda to pursue some ambitious goals.” Saburo tried not to shift his gaze as Kei’s threatening shadow hovered close.

“Correct. Kakizaki Haruhie is just the right piece to get things going. Will you stay here obediently and allow me to nab him in the meantime?” The executioner asked mock-pleasantly.

“Never!” Saburo exclaimed before he could stop himself. “I will not let you have Haruhie! You will go through me first!”

The hand that shot out and its crushing embrace on his throat were followed by this sly response, “But Saburo-dono, whatever can you do in this state?”

“Gh…!”

“If you can only glare your hardest, I doubt that could cause me any serious harm.” Kei taunted, delighting in the blooming determination of his current plaything. As he eased his hold temporarily, the youth broke into a fit of harsh coughs. The man was not about to let him recover when he displayed a single needle between the boy’s widening set of fearful orbs.

“What—?” Saburo barely inhaled a shuddering breath and then,

“Saburo-dono, I bestow upon you wonderful dreams.” Kei punctured his temple’s main chakra point with the sharp end.

“!” It would be akin to receiving a bolt of lightning if he ever encountered such an experience.

Saburo blinked once, twice and then a different face swirled before him. Dull eyes, black raven’s hair, pale scarred face of one he knew so well… “No…” His denial came out like a weak whimper, which he would have berated himself if he were aware. But he was no longer fully conscious let alone able to keep his senses. His own mind deceived him.

As ‘Kotarou’ withdrew the needle, he took a step back and gestured for the young lord to stand up. Saburo did on two quavering feet, wearing a helplessly appalled look. A sheathed katana clattered before him and he paused to pick it up in an attempt to shake the solid image of his protector.

“What are you waiting for? Your opponent will not be merciful. If you hesitate once again, you will die Saburo-dono.” His voice now exactly resembled his.

“Stop imitating him!” Saburo raged at the inscrutable counterfeit.

“Then fight. Show me how much you care.” The man challenged, drew his preferred tsubatto blade and made his stance. He suddenly advances forward, launching a swift blow, which Saburo barely manages to meet by relying on quick reflexes.

The youth’s legs nearly folded at the impact of the enemy’s meager strength. With this one strike, the disparity in raw power alone rang clear. By a simple push, Saburo’s back hit the ground but since he was decisive to prevail, he quickly rolled himself up only to see the tsubatto hypnotically turn for another assault. In the light of kindled fire, the blade seemed to dance gracefully enough to entrance the boy. So that when it swiped at him he was too late to react.

Kei makes a capricious decision of using the blunt end of his weapon to knock Saburo against a pile of rocks. He issues a disappointed hiss as the youth doubled over grunting in pain. “Up on your feet, Saburo-dono that blow should have felt like nothing. Will you let this appearance fool you into submission? I shall not hold back next time.”

Driven to his hands and knees, Saburo gritted his teeth. How much longer would he put up with this man’s mockery? That lateral hit to the torso really hurt but the lordling mustered his willpower to get back up even if he had to use the sword for support. “The real Kotarou would have killed me already.” He bit out to shed some frustration. That was not true. Kotarou behaved exactly like this when they duelled in the forest. It left a lingering feeling of unpleasantness.

“Then he was no real source of amusement, I suppose. But the more you look at me, at his image, the more you hesitate. Perhaps I could switch to someone more favorable if you continue to bore me.” ‘Kotarou’ lied. Though he could see the noble child’s utter disquiet once he donned this façade, to witness the fiery youth caught in the middle of restrained warrior’s passion was titillating his nerves.

He wanted to have more.

He had to have more!

My sword is a hindrance…

Right!

I will use my bare hands…!

Dropping his tsuba until it clicked to the earth, ‘Kotarou’ strode forward so fast that he seemingly materialized before the youth in the blink of an eye. Saburo instinctively tightened into a defensive posture when vicious blows rained down on him. He kept his stance by setting his legs apart, lowered his center of gravity, and held as much to protect his head… he practically curled around the now embedded katana like his life depended on it.

As the barrage of strikes continued, Saburo very nearly gave up. His body ached at several places and still his assailant bore down on him with an almost feverish need like Kei could not truly bring himself to stop.

A particular blow to the youth’s battered middle made him jerk involuntarily whilst a groan of pain escaped his lips.

The false Kotarou paused. He examined his fist and became raptly fascinated with the little stains of blood on his knuckles. His neck strained, his body hummed, and he glorified hearing that delicious sound of agony from his lovely prey.

Saburo seized his chance. With all his remaining strength and courage, he raised the blade aiming it for the hemorrhage-rich spot on his enemy’s thigh. But looking up to the familial likeness of Naoe was a crucial mistake and his execution consequently slowed.

Surprise flashed on the assailant’s face as crimson droplets trickled from his shallow gash before sending a ruthless kick that slammed against the boy’s rib-cage.

Saburo did not fight it; his hands released his borrowed weapon and he landed heavily on his side. His consciousness flickered and relatively died but he stubbornly held on to slump more evenly. He lied still as his chest rose and fell rose and fell.

Kei touched the sting radiating from his wound and took a deep breath himself.

He swallowed.

He could taste thus much.

This must be it.

Euphoria

…

The enemy walked towards Saburo staring against glaring orbs that did not lose a fragment of their opalescent sheen. Kei could not keep himself from trembling. Acute recognition was unmistakably restored in the piercing intensity of the tiger’s gaze. “Interesting. So this is how you defeat the invincible, Saburo.” Kei licked his lips and crouched down.

Dread fleetingly crossed the youth’s rigid expression at his defenselessness. What could this man possibly want more from him? He could not possibly…!

Rough hands, disturbingly warm travelled inside his robe seeking something.

“No!”

They sought his aches and bruises…

“Don’t!”

A large palm rested on a specific spot with a considerable ugly discoloration and pressed, firmly, deliberately, cruelly…

“AAAAAAA—!”

The slender body shot up, back arching, Saburo screamed against stab after stab of excruciating pain.

The youth’s shrieks masked the sound of distinct footfalls.

White layers of kimono dragged on uneven landscape at each step.

XxXMOBXxX

Naoe’s head snapped to the mouth of the cave as an ominous feeling sank to his stomach. His instinct was telling him that something was going very wrong with Saburo at this very moment. A jutting elbow painfully dug on his side and he met Nagahide’s reproaching glare while a resounding thump befell an enemy sohei who was sure to land Naoe a serious injury had he paid more attention.

Nagahide sliced a stretched neck before the sohei could utter his battle cry. The body fell silent, twitched once and went limp. “Goodness, Naoe! I was counting on you to watch my back and not the other way around!” Nagahide griped as the receiver rubbed his bruise.

“My apologies.” Naoe replied while successfully delivering fatal slashes on handful adversaries as proper compensation. He and Nagahide fought back to back becoming separated from Haruhie and Kuro a long while ago. Kei’s reformed sohei army had split them into two pairs. Was this the executioner’s plan of annihilation or was there something more sinister that lies in wait?

“Be more grateful I lent you my spare, Naoe. Putting yourself in danger with distractions makes my effort useless, does it not?” The swordsman huffed. Clearly there was no helping a man of Naoe’s dilemma. And yet Nagahide tried, “If you concentrated a bit more, it would bring you faster to that brat’s side!”

Seemingly deaf, Naoe’s eyes kept straying towards the cave’s entrance. He could not help but notice that a greater number of enemies chose to act as partitions between Naoe’s pair and Haruhie’s. Why would they suddenly loosen their guard on the path where the hostage was taken? Was it a psychological tactic reminiscent of Kei’s preference to torture Naoe’s mind in choosing between Haruhie and Saburo’s safety?

Surrounded, both Naoe and Nagahide were forced to deal with sohei who unpredictably break formation and unleash several methods of attack. The only way to put an end to their nearly inhuman endurance was by deathblow, which Naoe finds rather becoming cumbersome. Corpses and substantial rivulets of blood tainted the sandy shores, restricting movement and were set to give them a probable disadvantage. Naoe could not dispel the malevolent chi that somewhat floated off the life essence spilled. As Naoe’s disquiet grew, he and Nagahide simultaneously blocked two sets of spinning feet attempting to knock them off balance.

Naoe reversed his katana shattering the approaching enemy’s vertebra instead. He was however too late to warn Nagahide who had no qualms decapitating a head that went a bit too close.

As droplets of scarlet rained, Nagahide found himself overshadowed by Naoe’s larger form. “Naoe, what’s—”

A spark flitted close to the collapsing body before flames ignited it like a human bonfire. It would have crashed on Nagahide if Naoe had not pushed him out of the way.

Foul smoke soon arose from the burning carcass fortifying Naoe’s suspicions. His face darkened as sohei deliberately set fire over the carnage of fallen comrades.

Kei’s fondness for defiling and manipulating blood (that once deeply unsettled Rennyo) appears to have strongly developed into a more twisted fixation.

Oni…

Only a demon could conceive such a demented plot of contaminating his subordinates’ blood and using them as sacrificial torches to conjure Kohryu’s Breath.

“Nagahide, do not inhale the smoke. It might be lethal.”

The swordsman who had instinctively covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve grimaced. Nagahide could barely grasp Naoe’s words. Dizziness clouded his vision very quickly.

“Nagahide!” Naoe cried in alarm when the swordsman fainted.

Naoe wasted no time and hoisted his unconscious friend over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

Burdened by Nagahide’s weight, one might think Naoe would hesitate more but as his spirit flared with desperate determination, he roughly ploughed his way through the live barricade.

Naoe suppressed the ever growing emotion of dread gnawing at his heart. He knew Saburo would never forgive him if he abandoned Haruhie and single-mindedly ran to him. The man was indeed selfish but after countless exhausting fights and misunderstandings with Saburo, Naoe could never endure his beloved’s perpetual hate.

Fiercely swinging his blade to cut past storming foes, he also whipped flesh-rending strikes and accurate blows with his fist and legs while only slightly disturbing Nagahide’s perch on his back. Naoe almost succeeded decimating half of the army if his senses remained on par with his skill. He should be immune to most techniques of Kohryu’s verse but the earth aspect like the formula he had used on Saburo, always exhibited qualities unique only to its maker*.

*See chapter 30 for reference;

As grey spots danced beneath Naoe’s eyelids, a sly one lunged at an angle where he could least defend himself. Said aggressor abruptly dropped dead sporting a mangled throat.

A shadow stood, opposing defector warrior monks.

Owing to his less than superior reflexes, Naoe belatedly recognized his unlikely savior.

A disfiguring scar running at the turn of one cheek, the shinobi uncharacteristically regarded him with the slightest hint of hauteur. “Seeing you here is unacceptable. I cannot forgive one who declares absolute fealty to my young master and is still left floundering over insignificant scraps.” The shadow known as Fuma Kotarou droned.

“You—!” Naoe withheld his sharpened tongue when he saw Kotarou carrying the oblivious forms of Haruhie and Kuro on each arm albeit with less care. How the shadow wrung a grown man’s neck with his hands full was a total mystery.

“I know this may sound outlandish but let us set our differences aside for now. Young Master is in peril.”

A vein throbbed in Naoe’s temple. Just how daft does this man perceive him to be? “I assure you that your waste of breath is highly appreciated.” He carefully set Nagahide’s prone form on the stretch of sand Kotarou guarded with his back.

Inadvertently following Naoe’s example, the elite shinobi was grateful to rid himself of his share of ‘insignificant scraps.’ Three fallen individuals strategically occupied the narrow space that kept two rivals apart.

“Naoe-dono, the executioner’s true goal was to hinder us, nothing more. To put it simply, he wants us to remain stationary.” Kotarou spoke as he cleaved recklessly charging foes in two. More blood spilled, more flames ate their wake.

“Careful!” Naoe admonished yet Kotarou paid him no heed.

“Did you not see that we are fighting mindless enemies from the start? If you cannot maintain a level head in battle, Kohryu’s ‘venomous breath’ will render you inept. That makes you unworthy of the young master.”

“Hmph!” Naoe’s fury has restored his keenness. Violently breaking a jaw with the heel of his foot did little to quell his irritation. “Then why are you here, you hypocrite?”

When Kotarou did not respond, Naoe thought the shinobi had decided to ignore him for good. And yet, the deadly shadow affixed him a potent stare.

If looks could kill…

“Like you, I was bound to endure an unfavorable situation,” was the monotonous answer.

Am I?

Is he speaking about…?

Naoe’s temper sizzled. Did this killing tool of the Hojo possess redundant speech or was he (unintentionally? intentionally?) throwing his frustrations on the closest target?

The subtle furrow in the upper ridge of Kotarou’s forehead was a minute indication of…

Bound to endure?

“You… were ordered to stay?” Naoe could not imagine a higher authority capable of compelling this passively rebellious shinobi into submission other than—

XxXMOBXxX

As he wiped the blood that smeared his mouth, Kei morbidly watched his prey curled up on the ground heaving pained breaths. He did not realize Saburo still had strength to resist before the boy thrashed wildly like a beast and managed to actually fend him off.

‘But not for long,’ Kei tentatively stretched an arm and when the lordling merely tensed at this, he persisted. Saburo forced his uncooperative body to face the threat only to gasp at the presence of someone shrouded in white.

Kei’s fingers failed to touch. He himself had heard the faint footfall behind them and a wry smile unexpectedly graced his lips. His other hand involuntarily closed around the hilt of his sheathed tsubatto.

“O-Cho-san, finally… at long last you have shown yourself to me.” Kei slowly stood up, seemingly readjusted his midnight kimono and pretended to turn around only to release a hidden dagger up his sleeve.

“O-Cho” appeared to have anticipated such a maneuver and effortlessly eluded it by casually stepping to the side. Elongated shadows unnaturally followed “her” movements like “she” was indeed not a being of this world.

Seeing that his affectionate gesture was spurned, Kei frowns. The counterfeit before him was but a shadow of Cho. The real one was yet to come.

“O-Cho, you wound me. This impostor shares no similarity to you. Have you decided not to reveal yourself in the end? If you insist to be stubborn I suppose your precious baby brother can handle more?” The executioner goes for Saburo yet again.

Kei’s words produced confusion rather than fear in the youth’s mind.

Saburo felt that there was something… a cognitive fragment not clicking into place. And he puzzled at it than quake at the aggressor’s nearness.

Before the executioner could close the gap between predator and prey, the tip of a long blade arrested his progress. Expression alighting once again into one of amusement, Kei laughed quietly. “See how this disproves your claims? Saburo-dono, you do not know how much you are blinded by your naiveté.”

Another wearing the guise of Cho had intentionally contested the executioner. Kei earnestly whips his sword but unlike the impostor, this one fails to evade and earns a precise slash cutting “her” veil cleanly in two.

The face that meets Saburo’s bewildered gaze was the least he expects. The surge of familiarity and the sound of the flute that night never made so much sense until now. Saburo sat, petrified and somehow believed that his eyes were deceiving him. And yet as the imperious stare bore into him, his doubts disintegrated.

“Aniue…” Saburo uttered none-too-carefully. His eldest brother and overlord had been impersonating the island’s tragic spirit all this time? But then who was the other—?

Hojo Ujimasa made a sound of disapproval.

The unrevealed “Cho” stiffened but refrained from giving anything away.

To defy an esteemed command was punishable by death however was it not a guardian’s supreme duty to safeguard?

Momentarily obstructing Saburo’s torturer, Ujimasa confidently presents his unguarded back in subtle challenge. With indifference, he paces toward his badly wounded brother who unconsciously moves away in apprehension. Ignoring the feeble twinge in his heart, Ujimasa covers his exposed katana, leans down and gingerly picks Saburo off the ground like he were a child.

Shadow Cho offers the daimyo a bow as Ujimasa walks away from the scene while the bundle in his arms trembles in disbelief and shame. Saburo felt strange; biting his lip he tried so hard to contain the sob that eventually came out. His tears soaked the pearlescent kimono his hand could not grasp before.

When Kei ultimately made a move to chase the pair, Shadow Cho intercepted him.

“Hmph. You are aware that there is nothing at the end of this cave but a steep cliff overlooking the sea? The daimyo could never reach the Uesugi camp safely since I cut the rope that connected the bridge—!”

Shadow Cho shrugs the bothersome attire and omits a reply. “She” was already engaged in a deadly duel with the Bakufu’s executioner. Sparks flew, weapons resoundingly clashed, and bodies soared and strained to deliver incalculable strikes.

When the daimyo and his otouto* disappeared from view, the guardian knew fulfilment.

*Younger brother

He had served his purpose.

…

Saburo felt the rush of cold and hurt as his weather-beaten body submerged into the sea. The arms that had once held him protectively were absent.

He let go of everything, exhausted and drained as he was. Dying seemed surreal in contrast to what he had endured so far. Living did not matter anymore.

As he breathed to welcome the stinging embrace of death, his eyes caught the vision of a lady bestowing him a merciful smile. Afterwards, a floating sensation oddly made him think of flight from the deep to bring him close to the surface.

When Saburo’s eyelids sluggishly blinked he saw the lady wearing a majestic karaginu-mo¹¹⁰ with a sun crown adorning her head. ‘She must be a goddess’, Saburo thought absently when she carried him farther and farther away from the tumultuous current. As he drifted in and out of awareness, a second vision appeared in his mind’s eye of two ethereal brothers holding each other before he was passed to distinctly rough hands.

Ujimasa had not anticipated that the impact of hitting the water would be enough to separate them. At first, he practically lost his nerve but kept searching and held his breath as much as he could. At last, he spotted the near-motionless form of Saburo descending slowly towards a patch of seaweed. Ujimasa immediately swam across while battling memories of childhood that closely resembled this circumstance*.

*See chapter 10

The most bizarre incident happened.

Saburo stopped sinking and instead moved in reverse. No amount of reasoning could explain how the lithe body ended up being given back to him. Ujimasa had primarily lost faith in the divine since Obaiin’s demise but he could not help but wonder at the sheer impossibility of this moment. Dwelling no further, he quickly strove to return on land.

When they staggered to shore, Ujimasa paused as he heard Saburo give weak fitful coughs. The youth retched violently afterwards expelling fluids and salty water from his lungs. He breathed shakily but spontaneously and then blearily opened his eyes.

Ujimasa whispered that he could sleep if he wished. And Saburo’s lashes fluttered close once more.

XxXMOBXxX



On a concealed opening by the cave, Kei emerged bloody and dishevelled.

Though he bore a slight limp in his steps and two deep gashes on his battle-hardened body he was otherwise very much alive.

Flicking the crimson-drenched tsuba almost irritatingly to the side, he debated if he should stay awhile to recover before setting out on his own. However, having the inclination that he was truly alone (and outnumbered) at present he decided not to take any chances. He proceeded to the chamber where he kept a few capably-sized vessels.

He would sail using the anonymous routes to both outsiders and inlanders alike the moment he wrapped himself a decent bandage.

XxXMOBXxX

Traces of the radical sohei army were clumps of charred remains that littered the sands of Hatsushima. The gruesome sight seemingly gave the setting sun purpose of permitting the curtain of night to eclipse a terrible phase.

As he assisted the physician, Shinsuke-dono to properly administer the medicine on Nagahide, Naoe could not help but watch the eerie, foreboding figure of Fuma Kotarou staring far into the distance. The Fuma Clan Head was the epitome of a statue in the stillness of his pose.

Though Naoe found the shadow’s presence disagreeable initially, the dark aura currently radiating from Kotarou seemed repellent tenfold. The change in his unlikely comrade’s behavior was restrained but it made Naoe think of a man who looked up into the sky to see the sudden flight of ominous black birds.

Something must have happened.

But Naoe could not be bothered to pry. The news of Saburo’s safety was all that matters to him and yet Kotarou’s stoic demeanor continued to rub him off with negative chi.

If his Ki or spiritual perception were dull, Naoe could at least attempt to ignore him. But he could not and it was affecting him profoundly that he could not even feel a hint of reprieve despite having survived a catastrophic storm.

…

Kotarou constantly stared unseeingly into the horizon.

Half of him literally felt dead, insensate, numb…

He knew this day would come the moment he watched his mother’s* lifeless eyes.

“Don’t look like that! Cry for Hahaue* a little!”

‘Then tell me, why is it that I cannot cry for you, as well?’

Akito,

I…

I did not even tell you

My hate was a lie

~TBC

110 – Also called the “12-layered garment” it is the formal dress of high ladies in court of Imperial Japan comprising eight to ten robes worn on top of the other. (Source: Nihon Zatsuroku)

Post A/N: A sad opening chapter for the final arc in this story… Please stay tuned. I hope we can finish this piece together. Please leave a review and tell me your opinions about the story so far.
- 40
- 41
- 42
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

400 Years Apart