Fic snippet
Rating: PG-13 (this will probably go up to an R if I write more of this)
Content warnings: underage drinking, swearing, minor violence
Characters/Pairings: Bankotsu, Renkotsu, Ginkotsu, Jakotsu, Suikotsu, a few minor OCs
There's a fair amount of UST going on between Bankotsu and Jakotsu in this one but they're not in a relationship as of yet.
Author's notes: Past timeline fic.
Please note that I go by manga canon only in all of my fics unless otherwise stated.
Okay, this is basically just my headcanon about Bankotsu and Renkotsu's first meeting. It's probably not too much of a spoiler to say that things get off to a rocky start. ^^;
Since 7 unrelated guys all having very similar names is highly unlikely, imho, I've come up with original names for Renkotsu and Ginkotsu. Hopefully, it's not too hard to tell who's who.
I'm still not sure if this will get expanded into anything longer (I swear I'm the Queen of Drawerfics when it comes to these guys ^^; ) but constructive feedback is welcome.
Kenji wasn't one for distractions. Peace was a rare treasure in camp. It was rarer still when your neighbours had a fondness for sake and sing-alongs. He'd long lost count of the number of times they'd sent his concentration up in smoke.
Still, an order was an order. He ducked out of the doorway with only the briefest of glances at his current project. He'd barely had time to unpack before the Daimyou sent his summons. At least he could be confident that his locksmithing skills far surpassed the revellers' sake-addled minds.
Gennosuke fell in behind him without so much as a grumble. The big man had never been much of a grumbler. A shame Kenji couldn't say likewise. The sky's mood echoed his own. Just what he needed. Even the clouds were taunting him.
They reached the Daimyou's tent in a matter of minutes. Kenji’s face darkened as he took in the sight before him.
The Daimyou had spared no time or expense in his drive for new recruits. His efforts had bought him a rabble of peasants and three mercenaries, two of whom had actually bothered to turn up. To hear him tell it, they were really something. As if they'd single-handedly brought him his latest victory. Kenji set his jaw and made his way over to the tent.
Still, it wasn't as though he'd been fairing much better. It had taken half his wages and a full hour of persuading to prise his latest find out of that merchant's grubby little hands. That was almost enough to get a sigh out of him. This wasn't worth his time, let alone the pay.
The two mercenaries met them with a stare as they approached. They were sat atop a pair of barrels, sharing a jug of sake. The sight of Gennosuke nearly made them drop it. He didn't slow his steps. He'd had a lifetime of stares, and far worse besides.
He wasn't the only one drawing attention to himself. The younger of the two wasn't exactly dressed for battle; decked out in silks and face paint like a courtesan. Only the blade on his back betrayed his true profession. He could have passed for a woman at a first glance. Although his eyes made it clear he wouldn't have thanked Kenji for it.
His comrade at least dressed the part. His clothing was simple and sombre. His armour bore the scars of many battles. A pair of clawed gauntlets dangled from the sash at his waist. An odd choice but a man his size didn't need much of a weapon to pose a threat. His shoulders were certainly broad enough for two.
Of course, Gennosuke was bigger. Stronger too, he'd wager. Not that he had much left to wager with. The tension in Kenji’s spine began to ease. This wasn't anything they couldn't handle.
The younger man stared shamelessly until they were almost within a sword's reach. He looked down at his half-finished cup before turning to his companion.
"Are you-"
"I ain't that drunk, Jakotsu," his comrade scoffed.
Jakotsu took another look at Gennosuke. He shook his head and put down the cup.
"I dunno. Maybe we should lay off."
Kenji cleared his throat. "We're here to speak with the Daimyou." He backed his words with a pointed glare.
"Oh." Jakotsu jerked his thumb towards the tent. "Well, he's that-a-way. Could be a while, though."
"So I gathered."
Gennosuke shrugged. "We can always come back later."
Kenji swallowed a sigh. "We can wait." Knowing the Daimyou, he'd want them back as soon as they were out of earshot.
"Well, suit yourselves. Me and Suikotsu are just fine here." Jakotsu shrugged and picked up the jug. "Thirsty?"
Gennosuke gave Kenji a hopeful glance. He shook his head.
"Not particularly."
"Oh." Jakotsu didn't seem too disappointed. He nodded towards Gennosuke. "Is he always this chatty?"
Kenji didn't even bother to hold in his next sigh. "Surely we all have better things to do." He had at least a dozen. The Daimyou was certainly in no hurry.
"Fair enough." Jakotsu shrugged. "Don’t suppose you know what's taking them so long?"
Suikotsu let out a mirthless laugh. "Best ask the boss about that."
"Boss?" Kenji’s frown deepened. Perhaps the Daimyou had more pressing concerns? He craned his neck towards the tent. The shadows were as inscrutable as ever.
"Hey."
Kenji started. He glanced over his shoulder. The boy behind him barely came up to it. Somehow he'd snuck up on him without so much as a squeak. He cursed inwardly and met the boy with a glare. The boy stared back with sharp blue eyes. Ice wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
"Hey bro!" Jakotsu's face brightened like a puppy's. "What kept you?"
"Nothing special. Just a scratch." The boy nodded towards Kenji. "Who's this?"
Kenji's glare sharpened. He eyed the boy down the length of his nose. "We have a meeting with the Daimyou."
"Oh?" The little brat didn't even blink. "Well, I won’t keep you. Enjoy." He turned away with a faint smirk.
Kenji’s jaw tightened as the boy brushed past him. He carried himself with an easy arrogance, like a young cat. Some retainer’s brat, most likely. He wasn’t worth a reply.
The brat paid him no mind. He looked the two mercenaries up and down. His eyes settled on the sake jug. "You done with that or-"
Jakotsu heaved a mock sigh. "Go ahead. Just don’t expect me to buy you another round."
"Ah, thanks bro! You’re the best."
He grabbed the jug and knocked back the rest of its contents. Jakotsu shook his head with a fond smile. The brat grinned and wiped his lips with his sleeve. Gennosuke eyed the empty jug sadly.
"Don’t worry, big guy. Plenty more where that came from." The boy tapped the jug. "Fancy another round?"
Kenji stifled a snort of disgust. Was this really the best the Daimyou could muster?
"And since when does the quartermaster serve fourteen year olds?"
"Sixteen, actually." The brat flashed him another grin. "But I wouldn’t put it past him."
Sixteen. Just what he needed. Another one of the old fool’s little jokes. No doubt him and his lackeys would be chortling all night long at the thought of assigning him babysitting duty. It was enough to make his jaw clench.
The brat tossed the jug aside. Suikotsu caught it single-handed before it smashed against his head. The boy laughed and turned back to Kenji.
"So, how'd you two wind up here?"
"That's none of your-"
"You’re mercs too, right?" Jakotsu asked.
Kenji gave him a glare. "Nobody asked you."
"Relax. The Daimyou's cool with them." The brat's voice was as nonchalant as ever but Kenji caught a flash of steel in his eyes.
"You have an invitation?"
"Well, you could call it that." The brat shrugged. "Not like him to say no to a drink."
Kenji swallowed a sigh. That was certainly true. It was less than a decade since the Daimyou had been just another dirt-grubbing peasant. It didn’t take too much sake for him to slip back into old habits.
"And what makes you think he has time for the likes of you?"
The brat gave another shrug. "Guess you'll just have to ask."
Kenji rolled his eyes. Whatever he was up to it had better be worth his while. This brat alone was more than enough. Perhaps the Daimyou was just handing him the short end of the stick. He'd never struck him as the type to chase boys.
"Very well." He'd humoured them long enough. He turned back towards the Daimyou’s tent.
The brat stepped in front of him before he could blink. "Hey. What’s the rush?"
Kenji glared down at him. "Stand aside."
"Oh?" The brat shot him a smirk. "Is that an order?"
Kenji didn't bother to reply. Gennosuke didn’t have to be told. He stepped between them and set his hand on the boy's shoulder.
The two mercenaries were on their feet in less than an instant. Suikotsu's grin alone could make an oni turn tail. Jakotsu's scowl would be more than enough to finish it off. He levelled his sword at Kenji without a trace of hesitation.
The brat held up his palm. The two men froze. His face was as smug as ever.
"Chill. I can handle this."
Kenji stifled a snort. Did the pair of them really answer to this pipsqueak? Suikotsu alone had to be at least three times his size.
"I’d like to see you try."
The brat's smirk widened. "Fair enough."
He grabbed Gennosuke’s wrist and yanked him forwards. He swept his feet out from under him and knocked him flat. He had the big man pinned with his shoulder locked against his leg before Kenji could even flinch.
The brat flashed him a grin.
"Ready when you are."
Kenji backed away. Someone clapped him on the shoulder from behind. He gave a start. He glanced backwards to meet the Daimyou’s lopsided smile.
"I might have known." The Daimyou waved towards the boy. "Leave him be, Bankotsu."
Bankotsu? Kenji racked his memory. If the stories were true then... no. He shook his head. Damn him. This had to be a joke.
"Oh." The boy nodded towards the Daimyou. "Sure."
He shifted his grip and yanked Gennosuke back up to his feet. He set the huge man down as if he was no more than a baby. Gennosuke's eyes almost popped from his skull.
Kenji staggered backwards into the barrel. He lost his footing with a strangled yelp. He stared up at the boy with his heart still thundering in shock. Just what on earth was this brat?
A gale of laughter rippled around him. The Daimyou laughed hardest of all. He wiped a tear from his eye and gave Kenji a slap on the shoulder. Kenji suppressed a scowl.
"Didn't I tell you he was something?"
Kenji could only stare. Oh, he was something all right. He swallowed his indignation and somehow kept his voice calm.
"He's sixteen."
oooooooooooo
Constructive criticism is very welcome!
