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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
- 54
- 55
- 56
Chapter 55:
Mini Arc: The Calm before the Storm

A/N: When the sickle-shaped seven stars appear in the sky…
I know it’s been SO LONG since my last update but RL was so very hectic and needed my undivided attention. But at least I finally regained my literary touch to continue this piece.
So without further ado…
…
As the daimyo summoned me by his side, I did not miss the brief expression of confusion coupled with a sudden realization on Hideharu-danjo’s face. He knew that it was not Ujimasa-kou’s habit to randomly select some shinobi as his protector. As I was clearly an unfamiliar one, Hideharu-dono reeled at the implications but decided against verbalizing the obvious.
Perhaps, he thought that my very presence sparked the ridiculous rumors circulating within the inner circle of family retainers. On the contrary, it was actually Naoe’s recent appointment as the pretty lord’s vassal that started it all.
Even to me, it was no surprising fact that there were noble daughters of certain influential retainers eying and wanting ‘Nagashiro’ for themselves. In spite of the existing Shudo relationship, Naoe’s bold confession to the pretty lord on the night of the banquet not only earned traditionalists’ scorn but also broke many a maiden’s heart. Thus, when opportunity presented itself, neither party hesitated to retaliate in kind.
However, word of mouth would have been harmless if Ujimasa-kou did not approve of Naoe’s change of allegiances. The elders of the Go-Hojoshi saw that tolerance as a weakness, a crack in an absolute lord’s authority. Even if he were doing it for the brat as a sign of his affection, his reputation as a ruthless administrator would suffer. There were also raised concerns regarding Hanaiin-hime’s religious celibacy nullifying the marriage thus drawing more glaring attention to the daimyo’s lack of heir.
Ujimasa-sama, on the other hand, did not seem to be too worried. It was interesting how he sees his several predicaments as challenging, amusing even. For now, I would never tire of watching this man. He had lost a lot of seemingly indispensable pawns but remained unfazed and confident that he would eventually reclaim that one in particular.
The pretty lord did not believe so however. In this circumstance, I place my bet on the brat over Ujimasa-kou. Having practically grown under Kotarou-dono’s protection and affection, the boy knew him best. It also turned out that Saburo-dono knew how to bring out the worst in him.
Kotarou was irreparable.
The resilient yet fettered strings that kept him intact had worn too thin. Or perhaps his love had grown too deep; he hovered on the cliff where an abyss of insanity yawned below. Naoe has only the faintest idea but I can relate to those sentiments well despite the norm among shinobi to limit personal expression.
It took me almost a year to recover from madness after my loss.
My?
As if I own Ouji*?
(*Prince; see chapter 39)
That must be wishful thinking on my part.
But I do yearn to possess him. Even if only in my heart, my longing grows ever stronger though he remains in death’s embrace. I am a hopeless case and I never desire to recover from this illness if it is. However, it would have jeopardized my charge if I was in this state of thrall while I performed my duties. This was probably the reason why Kotarou deserted.
Ouji-sama himself was very charismatic in spite of his advanced age and… accursed health. He was a prodigy at kenjutsu, an imperial prince, amiable, generous, and his features were quite soft to the eyes. He saved my life, uplifted my tarnished rank, and gave me a second chance. However, the time we spent together was incomparable with Kotarou and Saburo-dono.
Theirs was a bond forged once in chaste obligation, affection, and then boundless passion yet in the end was constrained.
Ouji-sama’s modest affection and attention were solely mine whereas Kotarou harbored an intense, all-consuming love for the young lord but he had to fight Naoe tooth and nail just to secure his position.
Mayhap, Kotarou realized that Saburo-dono ultimately outgrew his dutiful, protective presence. To be perceived as a meddlesome nuisance instead of a valued guardian was something I had become to Nagao Kagetora* before my fall. When the master chooses someone else, the damage and hurt are excruciating. I would have snapped and wrung Kenshin’s neck myself had I not fled. This was not mere currying for favor but a matter of self-worth. Once we are stripped of our usefulness, we lose everything— even our very own minds. That is the price of a shadow’s absolute loyalty: his sanity.
(*Uesugi Kenshin)
To prevent such unfavourable circumstances, I picked up the remaining scraps of myself and swore never to pledge my soul and serve anyone again.
As Kenshin sealed my departure, he never looked back, not even fleetingly.
My absence was not missed.
And I’ve come to learn later on that it was an uncanny form of mercy and salvation.
Saburo-dono and Kotarou did not have such parting, however.
XxXMOBXxX
“Tono-sama, with these treacherous actions I am now disowned by the Fuma Clan and your entire household.” Kotarou’s lips moved with bone-chilling finality.
Kotarou had no qualms as he took off with the lordling and went to a secluded place in the castle.
What was this jaded fool saying? The terrible fact that Kotarou was abandoning the Fuma and leaving the Hojo Household did not even sink in Saburo’s mind. He was still analyzing the shadow’s bizarre behavior even as the sharp tip of a kunai lightly pressed against his unprotected neck.
“As my contract, you were jealous?”
Kotarou would not look at him or even get close to him as he uttered cutting words of strange nature. It was as if Saburo was now with a completely different person.
“You should be nothing to me as I am nothing to you. A shinobi without purpose is doomed to lose his sanity. I will eventually kill you.”
He had moved so fast and with such skillful efficiency that Saburo barely registered that he now laid on the ground while deadly fingers were wrapped around his throat. He looked up wide-eyed at his former protector whose tight line of shoulders manifest agitation despite his blank face.
It was true that Kotarou was never the same. Saburo might as well have been blind the whole time because Kotarou seemingly appeared more broken each day…
‘And I caused all these?’ As his hands reached up for Kotarou, Saburo thought that he did not mind being killed by this man until he felt moisture touch his skin.
One drop after another, tears were flowing down silently from Kotarou’s unseeing eyes.
Saburo opened his mouth to speak but the shadow’s uncharacteristically husky voice whispered, “Don’t be fooled by this dysfunctional body, Wakasama. I do not know how to express sorrow.”
“What then do you want of me?” Anxiety slowly crept into Saburo’s heart when the shinobi’s fingers tightened.
Their warm breaths intermingled, brought forth by their increasing closeness. “What if I tell you I want to have you against your will? Despite the noxious poison pulsing inside me… I desire to meld our flesh together until you could no longer tell where one ended and where the other began.”
“You want to take my life in this manner?”
Only too eager, Kotarou breathed against his ear, “Yes,”
Saburo shivered. He should not feel this way but Kotarou’s familiar body heat was muddling his rational thought.
Just how depraved was he? Fighting such carnal impulses he snarled, “Do not think so highly of yourself, you fool! I am not a weakling to die so easily by being held by you.”
Kotarou made quick work of his silk sash but Saburo fought back, reluctant to be disrobed unceremoniously. The elite shinobi effortlessly imprisoned his limbs while the lordling breathed raggedly beneath him.
“I choose not to let your words hold power over me, Saburo. Should I show you how grave a mistake it is to provoke me?” Kotarou’s wicked mouth already began feasting on the youth’s throat, right on the spot where his previous vicious bite left a scar. Saburo’s kimono opened, the sleeves falling off his shoulders and he felt nervous being so exposed.
As the renegade shadow indulged on his sensitive breast, the tiniest prick of a needle made him gasp.
No— he would not!
Saburo’s strength began rapidly ebbing away and he was genuinely afraid when he realized that his voice was suddenly no more. However, just like before, his flesh become overheated and even the slightest way Kotarou pleasured him, drove him mad with sensation.
The youth gritted his teeth and his face twisted almost painfully as Kotarou tortured his tingling buds with skillful lips and tongue. Kotarou restlessly ate at him and he wanted to curse himself for revealing this sinful weakness to this treacherous creature.
His groin started throbbing oddly and he knew with a sudden flare of shame that he was about to come by just having his stiff nipples devoured.
His fingers twitched, wanting to push against Kotarou and make him stop this devious display of intimacy when the man himself relented. He left Saburo in a daze; breathless and anxious.
His sluggish vision followed as Kotarou rose a little unsteadily and took slow backward steps. Lying helplessly on the ground, Saburo could do nothing but stare. That was when he caught something fluidly spreading on the shinobi’s midnight garb.
Something red steadily soaked the garment of Kotarou’s front.
Blood?
Why?
His eyes dipped lower and he finally spotted the odd position of Kotarou’s arm over his torso. A hint of metal protruded before his closed fist… a kunai?
It dawned on him that Kotarou had stabbed himself to wake from his dark trance.
Blood also trickled down Kotarou’s lips and his eyes almost had a glassy quality while the expression on his face could almost be mistaken for woe.
No.
Don’t.
Don’t die!
But Kotarou didn’t. Despite his injury, the shinobi agilely ascended a tree and soared further, the thick canopy obscuring his departure.
Still in denial, Saburo waited for his former guardian to re-emerge from the shadows only to be disappointed by the utter silence that reigned.
The understanding of being truly abandoned came very late.
Mustering the damnedest of his stubborn will, Saburo let out an anguished wail,
“Kotarou!”
Unbeknownst to the lordling, his cry stabbed the deserter ten times over.
XxXMOBXxX
The pretty lord’s eyelids were restlessly shifting in sleep again: a sure sign of a quite vivid dream. Lately, this has been happening a lot more since Kotarou’s absence.
And since Tono-sama decided to house his favored sibling within the inner palace, Naoe did not find it any easier to be by his young lord’s side most of the time. Ironically, I as the daimyo’s new protector had more privilege to watch over Saburo-dono for longer periods than any other retainer.
I remember warning Naoe beforehand that he had the unlikeliest rival for the pretty lord’s attentions and he still barely has a good grasp of it.
As I saw Saburo-dono toss and turn at the corner of my eye I contemplate telling Naoe either out of pity or amusement that the reason why his ‘beloved’ is irritable nearly every morning was because of fitful, troubled slumber.
The alternate, desirous whispers of names falling off the lordling’s lips froze me in place.
It was almost like I was intruding into a private, guarded realm of Saburo-dono’s mind that I hastily took off. I would not want to become a hapless victim of Tono-sama’s intuitive prying, which he does on a random basis.
…
For the past several nights, it always started the same. In vast woodland enveloped in the darkness of a foreboding eve, he would be running.
Always running.
Barefoot, out of breath, and wearing only a single layer of clothing, he would run.
Dead twigs, moist fetid leaves and the gnarly forest floor crunched under his raw, scraped feet. Yet, the fear he felt far outweighed any pain as shadows of unknown predators gave chase.
The crisp night air that invisibly clawed at him and chilled his bones, the fog-laden trails, ever-confusing, ever-haunting were collaborators that impeded his desperate struggles for escape.
Soon, exhaustion caught up with him.
A near-sob tore out of his lungs as his legs finally gave out. As he struggled to push his spent body upright, he heard the slightest noises of rustling grass and a twig snapping nearby.
Now wide-eyed, he looked back into the shadows where specks of moonlight hinted tall bushes and a thicket of trees.
There was nothing to behold.
He became more apprehensive nonetheless. As he scrambled back on his feet after a moment’s rest, he failed to see the dark creature that had slinked its way cleverly behind him.
With a gasp, the youth tried to back away, only to step on a splintered branch that lodged on the tender flesh of his heel. He yelped in pain and slipped backwards, landing on his rump. With his prey currently immobilized, the predator wasted no time and sank its jaws on his exposed thigh.
The youth groaned loudly as more pain lanced through his limb. He fought back using his fists, striking the large, sinewy, four-legged beast that continued to inject its brand of venom into his blood.
Uttering a disconcerting purr, the creature surprisingly released him. He started to shakily inch away in his last resort for survival. Unfortunately, he could barely prop himself up against a tree trunk and much less, stand.
Films of sweat rolled down his neck and back while he breathed with effort. A peculiar dizziness assaulted his bleeding, vulnerable frame and he ended up staring haplessly at the beast. It slyly watched him in return seemingly anticipating for his moment of surrender.
The arrogance of its posture, the gleaming certainty of his defeat on its eyes, stoked a determined flame in the youth. By willpower alone, he sprang away, urging the creature to pursue him once again.
Every fiber in his body screamed in agony as he ran but he was not the sort to wait patiently for death. It would be better if it came down swift and merciless.
Another predator had other plans for him, however. As he sprinted almost blindly into a slope on the forest trail, the second beast, with claws extended and canines bared tackled him to the ground. Its massive torso slammed against his ribcage and he went down hard on his back with the wind knocked out of him. The youth belatedly registered the tearing of clothing before jagged teeth ravaged the flesh of his neck.
He gaped in shock as more of the sinister venom poured into his bloodstream. A strange heat suffused his nerves and his heart gave odd succeeding beats that left him winded and delirious.
He did not know what was happening to his wayward body. As the beast continued lapping up the blood on the side of his throat, odd sensations washed over him and he unconsciously parted his legs. The center of his hips throbbed just as he perspired feverishly.
He distantly heard purring and soft growling around him. Hovering between consciousness and a trance-like state, he remained fairly motionless on the ground. Unbeknownst to the youth, the enticing scent between his thighs lured the dangerous creatures whose intentions were proving to be more unpredictable by the passing moment.
While the other beast that resembled a large, scarred wolf licked its canines and deliberated, the more aggressive one could not resist. Its heightened senses were drawn to the stirring flesh of the youth.
The young lad snapped into alertness when a shadow entirely covered his limp form. His eyes widened as he came face to face with the luminescent eyes and sharp features of the creature whose heated body grew more palpable with their sudden closeness.
His own heart pounded deafeningly in his ears as the beast’s furry head settled at the cradle of his hips. What does it plan to do to him other than devour him like a meal? He started at the touch of its rough wet tongue collecting streaks of drying blood on his inner thigh.
Feelings of forbidden arousal consumed him and he covered his flushed face with trembling arms. What was wrong with him? How could he feel anything but disgust while this beast violates him?
Heavily intoxicated by his scent, it became desperate to taste him.
Its rumbling purrs intermingled with the sounds of his harsh gasps. It did not stop until the pearly white fluid was coaxed out.
No…
As the intense crest of pleasure coursed through his being, the youth’s back arched and he momentarily lost consciousness.
The beast refused to let him go. He stirred once again at the sensation of a tongue’s pointed tip probing the rosette of his opening.
He must not allow this debauchery to proceed further! He pushed his upper body with effort and attempted to shove the beast off him.
A man’s familiar face and nude muscular body distracted him. A choked groan escaped his lips as the man’s oral appendage succeeded tasting him from within. It wiggled inside him and his lower belly fluttered in excitement.
“Unh…”
The youth’s train of thought faltered.
No… Why does it have to…?
“Saburo…” Naoe nuzzled his neck when he was too breathless to respond and aligned their bodies together in embrace.
“What have you done to me?” He demanded the man while Naoe ignored his outburst and positioned him on top.
“Did you not want to dominate me while uncontrollably aroused, Saburo?” Naoe’s hands traced his lithe chest, rubbed his very erect nipples and without pause, fondled his hardened manhood.
As if some invisible force was orchestrating the act, Saburo suddenly found himself sinking deep into Naoe’s constricting warmth.
“Oh—” His jaw forcefully lifted. “Doing… this again…” He grunted incoherently.
A deep, low growl by his ear interrupted his thoughts. He had apparently forgotten about the other beast. Not trusting his perception anymore, he faced the creature despite his vulnerable connection with Naoe.
The mystical dark wolf swished its thick tail and its harrowing gaze was etched into his mind’s eye when its fur started to shed and a tall, naked man rose from the pile.
The powerful torso protectively covered his back and the tiny hairs on Saburo’s nape stood on end when Kotarou spoke, “Mate with us Young Master and you will be indulged.”
…
He was already hoarse from screaming and yet they continued taking care of him. He himself was shocked by the endless sensitive spots on his body. Worse, they undulated inside him— against him slowly but thoroughly, the kind that prolonged rapture until it ravaged him senseless. Even his orgasm was dragged out to drain the very last drop.
They were definitely inhuman…
Naoe and Kotarou both submitted to him and invaded him with such synchrony that always left Saburo pleasured at both ends. Overwhelmed with such intensity of copulation, the youth was often caught in between periods of languidness and mindless euphoria.
Spent, exhausted, and boneless, the youth felt like he could no longer go on until Naoe’s lips captured his. Such sweetness caught him off guard and he barely returned the affectionate gesture when he was tugged away into another ravenous mouth.
Their arms possessively held his young slender body while their scorching stares regarded each other.
Was there something telling beneath their fiery gazes that pierced through the young lord’s sinful, desire-filled soul?
I want…
…
Saburo woke up at Haruhie’s gentle urging.
“Saburo-gimi,”
The young lord blearily stared at his novice guardian. “What got you to me this early?”
“It is Nagashiro-dono. I could barely hold him off. He is impatiently waiting outside and would not go away no matter what I tell him. He insists to attend to you this morning.” Haruhie appeared more sleep-deprived than he was.
He capriciously skirted passed the issue. “What did Ujimasa-ani say?”
Haruhie finally snapped. “Saburo-gimi! Please refrain from that! Nagashiro— Naoe-san risked his life and status just to be your retainer. He is your own so please do not shove responsibility and authority back to the daimyo.”
Saburo wanted to succumb to anger. Haruhie’s station did not warrant any authority to openly criticize him like this; however, he was also a valued guardian and a trusted friend.
Since Kotarou was…
He dared not finish that train of thought. In reality, Haruhie was the only unbiased confidant he could rely on and he did not want to keep pushing him away like he had been doing to the others in the past whenever he got upset.
Finally, he could only come up with, “I have no desires for such an aggressive retainer.”
“But you were doing fine with twice as much before— Ack— forgive me Saburo-gimi.” Haruhie balked at his own tactlessness for stepping on a raw nerve.
Instead of flying into a rage, the young lord heaved a deep sigh. “Tell Nagashiro that I wish to take a little walk in the gardens and he could shortly join me if he so wished. I will call for you again later, Haruhie.”
“Ah, yes, I— I understand Saburo-gimi,” Haruhie babbled and hurried to collect Naoe.
The youth waited for neither, strolling ahead with his chaotic thoughts for company.

When he heard the adjacent room’s shoji sliding closed, Ujimasa put down his tea bowl and exchanged glances with Hideharu.
“Should I follow Saburo-sama, Tono-sama?”
Ujimasa-kou appeared to be listening keenly for something and then shook his head. “Saburo is a general not a brat. I thought you made the distinction already, Haru?” He spoke teasingly.
Hideharu was about to bow in apology but the lord of the realm seized his sleeve and tugged him forward until their lips touched.
The danjo forgot all formalities and boldly grasped Ujimasa-kou’s shoulders. “Are you not worried in the least bit?”
“Should I be deterred for losing a powerful pawn that is hopelessly drawn to Saburo? The ‘Fuma’ report directly to me now.” In a rare display of reassurance, Ujimasa interlaced their fingers together causing a faint blush on Hideharu’s cheeks.
…
Tonight, they would commence the ceremony of his coming of age and yet he was already sucked into brooding just moments after sunrise. As he absently thumbed the leaves of a flowering Hyacinth, Saburo recalled the succeeding events that led to Kotarou’s desertion, the way his motionless, exposed body was waiting to be found in a secluded area, Naoe’s terrifying expression upon discovering his almost-raped state, his Ujimasa-ani’s forcefully composed visage, Kuro-sensei being summoned to treat his paralysis while Haruhie fidgeted uselessly in the background…
Those happened several weeks ago.
Based on those circumstances, Naoe’s rage should be understandable. After all, Saburo was snatched away before Naoe’s very eyes. The Go-Hojoshi’s appointed physician, Kuro-san remarked that he would have stopped breathing if the antidote had been delivered late. Still, Saburo had unwavering faith that he would have survived it— Kotarou had stabbed himself rather than copulate with him thus preserving his life force. Saburo has trusted himself under the care of someone equally protective and lethal. As a result, his companions were greatly disturbed by this.
To make matters more complicated, Kotarou’s absence turned everything that Naoe had hoped for, upside-down. There was nothing more satisfying than eradicating a rival; however, without the elite shinobi, the young lord’s temperament seemed to be more infernal than usual. Almost all that Naoe did or said drove Saburo up the wall. Eventually Naoe’s frustration morphed into a fierce jealousy and the lordling found it increasingly difficult to deal with him.
To set their relationship back into order, Saburo sought distance and prevented his retainer from temporarily seeing into his personal affairs. Of course, his adamant lover took it the wrong way.
Hence, he was waiting to see this disaster to unfold in a little while.
Checking behind his shoulder, Saburo deemed that he had a few more moments to spare mulling about yet another bizarre dream.
‘Why do I…?’
‘I want…’
‘I am so greedy to want so much.’
He wondered if he was the only one caught in this dilemma. If he had two choices and he could only select one then who would he choose to be by his side?
‘Neither,’
‘Both,’
‘I just…!’
To see his body entangled between two beloved men in his dreams almost every night… there must be something utterly distorted in him.
“I believe Young Master should not let himself become too unguarded especially during these times of tension.” This mimicry of Kotarou’s deference for him utterly grated on his nerves.
How dare this one call him ‘young master’!
His katana was already swiping out before he saw a slowly materializing shinobi barely evade his precise attack.
“Aya— careful, I must remember that Saburo-sama is not to be trifled with.” Danzo comically held his hands in surrender.
The young lord preferred to grace this insolent one with a weapon. “You are not of the Fuma. Are you the one hovering close by each time I am too tired to stay awake? Quickly identify yourself or I will execute you on the spot.”
“As belied by your delicate appearance, your Ki is one of the sharpest I have seen. Kotarou-dono has trained you well.” Kato Danzo rambled on, irritating Saburo further.
“Pleasantries will only get your head rolling faster on the ground.” The young lord’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh but Saburo-sama, that ugly slash wound and your bruises were really nasty on that fateful day. Had I not dressed them, you would have had irreparable damage. And I must say… your skin was very smooth down there almost like— no, better than a maiden’s.”
Was this fool trying to jest with him? Nonetheless, Saburo did remember the gruesome injuries he had suffered from Kei’s hands. Who would have thought that this pale, gangly shinobi-quack patched him up? In the presence of Ujimasa-ani, this man would not be given the privilege to treat him if he were any ordinary ninja.
“You are Ujimasa-ani’s protector?”
Danzo flashed him a wide grin. “How bright of you,”
“You are familiar with Kotarou?”
“Ooh, now we are getting somewhere.”
Saburo had trouble deciding either lashing out or falling into a laughing fit for this odd fellow.
“Get away from him, Danzo.” Someone snarled.
Saburo almost flinched at the large hand that immediately encircled his wrist.
“Why Nagashiro-dono, I was just watching out for the young lord. However, I will gladly make myself scarce now.” After a ridiculous bow, the pair was left alone.
Saburo impulsively felt like asking Danzo about Kotarou’s whereabouts. He almost called out and he inwardly cringed at his carelessness. Seeing the grim lines on Naoe’s handsome face, he was fortunate to have held himself back.
“Your hand, it is too tight.” The lordling said nonchalantly.
Naoe ignored his comment. “Why do you do this to me, Young Lord?”
“Do what?” Saburo tugged but the man still would not let go.
“Send me away when it is too dangerous in the open.” Naoe’s voice was eerily calm but for one who knew him very well, this indicates that his displeasure was just boiling under the surface.
“I am your general! I can defend myself!” He did not mean to lash out again but Naoe’s dialogue always cycled back into this and he had had enough.
“You are not a general. Not until tonight at least.”
The bastard would not release him! “Unhand me, you insolent fool!”
Naoe’s eyes narrowed into slits and he firmly drew the young lord closer until he spoke by Saburo’s ear, “Do you enjoy torturing me like this? Do you find amusement in my helplessness? I could not protect you! It has happened again! Do you find joy in my failures?”
Saburo shuddered at the sly wetness that traced the shell of his ear.
“Perhaps Young Lord needs release? You are so very tense after all.” Naoe chuckled darkly before he hauled the stunned Saburo up his broad shoulders and went swiftly to his lodgings.
…
The house’s thick outer walls provided excellent privacy. Even an alert samurai on patrol would not have inkling of the intense commotion inside.
Naoe had slammed the youth on his back on the futon and he held fast when Saburo started thrashing.
“Go ahead, scream and curse me as much as you please. Prove to me now that you are as capable as you claimed to be.”
Dark amber eyes glittered murderously. “You despicable cur,” Saburo hissed with venom.
A fist escaped as Naoe roughly undressed him. Saburo managed to strike him across the face but the man was undaunted.
The expression frozen on Naoe’s features was the most frightening he had ever witnessed.
Saburo was flushed, breathing raspingly by the time he was bared before Naoe’s rapt hunger. If it were possible, Naoe’s gaze could have swallowed him whole.
The lithe body continued to struggle and utter blasphemies but the one who embraced him was no longer a man but the very beast that masterfully consumed him in his dreams— dreams that now turned into a living nightmare.
…
In his ceremonial blue and gold regalia, Saburo stood on an embellished platform before the Go-Hojoshi. Every step he took that brought him closer to his family, to his household, to his subjects radiated an ethereal grace. Saburo’s austere demeanor seemed highly fitting for his rank. So much so that not even Ujimasa-kou could spot the stinging pain that shadowed his beloved sibling’s every movement.
They hailed the name of “Hojo Ujitora” Taisho of the Hojo Armies; Hojo Ujimasa’s appointed second, and heir-apparent.
Saburo strictly kept his gaze trained on the people of his homeland. He would not dare meet the eyes of the man who deliberately plunged a dagger through his heart.
…
Naoe’s face spun sideways at the force of the blow but he put no resistance whatsoever.
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE BRAT? AND HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS CREST EVEN NOW, NAOE NOBUTSUNA!”
“…”
Danzo gritted his teeth at the lifeless stare that finally met his own. Infuriated, Danzo kicked Naoe hard on the gut.
Naoe grunted in pain yet did not bother to defend himself. In a very defeated tone, he said, “Tell me, Danzo. Was my entirety not enough? In the end Saburo could never belong to me.”
Kato Danzo bit his lip, his face crumpled in devastating ache. He just knew it all too well.
“And I thought I was the insane one, Ouji.”
~TBC
Post A/N: Happy Birthday, Saburo… *Sobs*
I know the name is not original but tiger is tiger so…
Reviews please…
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400 Years Apart