Character: Tsuruhime, Motochika Chosokabe, Kotaro Fuma. Mention of various characters.
Word Count: 1817
Other Sites: N/A
Warning: Gakuen Basara AU. One-sided Kotaro<-Tsuruhime Not beta’d.
Summary: Indeed, the March wind was very chilly. Written for senbasajubilee ♥
Notes: I wrote this short fic to match the tone of a shoujo manga - Tsuruhime’s true essence laughs. Sorry for possible mistakes in advance, but I hope you enjoy.
When you think of spring, what comes to your mind? For me, the answer would be “a fateful encounter!” As the cherry blossom petals dance endlessly like snowfall, two people meet each other and fall in love. Spring should be a season filled with such bright and sweet memories.
The cherry blossoms had yet to bloom that March. The air was still chilly and the sky sill gray. But her school was filled with liveliness. After all, it was the end of the semester, the last day of school, and the most importantly, the day of much awaited graduation for the senior class. All students were understandably restless.
She was no exception.
Tsuruhime hugged the large shopping bag in her arms and sneaked down the empty hallway. As she passed by, she could hear the excited chatter from the classrooms. Even if the teachers were still in the room, everyone including the teachers was too distracted by the end-of-the-year fever to concentrate on the lesson. Some of her schoolmates’ exchanges leaked through the thin walls and reached her ears.
What class did you signed up for next year?
Maybe I’ll join a club …
Hey, we should hang out during the break!
As she listened to these happy and idle words, the inside of her chest squeezed uncomfortably tight. It was hard to put this feeling into words. To describe it was painful. So she simply picked up her pace, racing down the stairs and heading towards the gymnasium where they won’t reach her.
--
By the time she reached the double doors leading into the gym, the ceremony had finished and the third graders emerged as official graduates of the academy. There were plenty of faces she recognized lingering in the courtyard. For instance, the captain of the baseball club and the captain of the football club were arguing about this and that as always, but the tip of their nose and the corners of their eyes gradually turned red. The football captain especially looked as though he was holding back a large wail. Their respective right-hand men watched over the two with an exasperated expression on their faces, but their eyes were unexpectedly gentle. Not far from them, two men – one very tall and one very slender - were congratulating the scary senior who ran for student council president some time ago. She remembered him as someone who was short-tempered and ruthless. But at that moment, he looked like an ecstatic child, his eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed. Although she was not experienced at reading others, even she could tell that he looked up to those two men dearly. It was an odd sight, seeing her outwardly invincible upperclassmen in such state of vulnerability.
She continued to scan the group of seniors: the current student body president surrounded by his adoring friends, the beautiful gymnast forlornly looking at her certificate, and the jolly giant presenting a bouquet of carnations to Magoichi (a teacher she too knew well). But she didn’t see the right shade of twilight amongst the busy crowd.
“Duncha still have class, Crane Brat?”
Her lips reflexively tightened at the rude (yet familiar) nickname. She turned and glared at the eye-patched youth standing behind her, her archenemy who acted more like a rotten pirate than a high school student. By some miracle, he was also graduating today.
“Playing hooky ain’t very proper of you.”
“I-I know that! But there is an important business I must take care of.”
“Oho?” He said as he eyed the colorful shopping bag in her arms. As if understanding her intent, he nodded his head. “I see, I see. So yar finally going to go confess your undying love to me. I’m gonna have to refuse, but I’ll take whatever’s inside that bag gratefully.”
She screeched, shielding the bag with her body. Nothing of monetary value was in the bag, but she refused to openly share the content inside with others, especially not with her archenemy. The mere thought was excruciating. “This is not for you, Mr. Pirate! Keep your grubby hands to yourself.”
The owner of the accused hands let his pretense fall and snorted. “No need to get your panties in knots, princess. Everyone in the school except Sanada knows why you would be here. Yar looking for that mute guy.” He pointed towards behind his shoulder. “He went off with that old librarian.”
“With Mr. Hojo? Then they must have gone to the library … I need to catch up!” Before she could take another step however, her archenemy stopped her once again.
“Oi, Crane Brat.” The low tone of his voice made her unsure how to react. Opting to wait for his next words instead, she was even more surprised to hear him say: “See ya.”
“Oh.” Yes, of course. She was too focused on the task at hand that she had completely forgotten. Her archenemy too won’t be in this school anymore; they won’t get to have their friendly (although she would like to believe they were very serious and heavily staked) spats with each other. No more. “Um … yes. Take care, Mr. Pirate. I hope you won’t park your motorcycle in no-parking zone in college!”
Like always, she gave him a disdainful look (how do you say goodbye again?) and huffed away. Before she was completely out of earshot, Motochika shouted after her. She thought he sounded like he was laughing.
“What are you, my Ma?!”
--
The library was not very far from the gymnasium. Cutting through the pathway covered with dried leaves, she headed for the separate building rarely visited by the academy’s students.
Just as the brick building came into view, she found him standing under one of the trees that lined the pathway. It was a particularly large tree whose branches had yet to bud, and the barrenness of the tree looked almost sad against the overcast sky. More so because it was a famous cherry blossom tree that was said to bloom magnificently every year.
“Um!! Excuse me!!”
“…”
Her voice unintentionally boomed after spotting him (a sorrowful side-effect of a year-long unrequited love). Hurriedly and clumsily, she cleared her throat to stop him from disappearing with the passing wind.
Just like she practiced last night, that was all she needed to do.
“Please might I have a moment of your time? I won’t do anything!” To prove her point, she stood good distance away from him, not even within arm’s reach.
“…” Despite remaining silent, the upperclassman with the twilight locks turned fully towards her. Perhaps it was a sign of approval? Encouraged by this turn of events, she took a deep, nervous breath and began.
“If it is okay, could you accept these?” She held out the bag she had been vigilantly guarding. “They … They are all the things I tried to give you over the past year but never had the chance to. I thought if I held onto them even though you’re not here, it would be … bad. Don’t worry! They’re all harmless things! Like this chocolate I made last month for Valentine’s Day! I kept in the freezer so it should still taste okay. These band-aids are from the Fall Festival. I thought you might get injured because you were in the organization committee, but you were very good at your job from what I heard. And there is a four-leaf clover I found during the cleanup after the sports meet! And this is a lucky charm I made for Christmas. None of them are expensive things, so if you want, you can just throw them away later…”
The more she spoke, the more her body shook. She had practiced so diligently these past three days, so that she will appear cheerful and nonchalant. But something crawled up the back of her throat as she continued and made speaking difficult. The tightness in her chest seemed to intensify more and more, and this time she did not have the leisure to brush it off and run away. The words she heard in the hallway just moments ago resounded in her head.
What class did you sign up for next year?
She wished she could have gotten to know him better.
Maybe I’ll join a club …
She wished she could have been in the same club as him.
Hey, we should hang out during the break!
She wished she could have had more courage to ask.
See ya.
But no matter how much she wished for those things now, he won’t be here from today onwards. She won’t be able to see him on the way to the school or cheer him on when he played sports. And he certainly won’t be here to rescue her in times of trouble. So the least she could do was tell him how grateful she was. Because of him, she fell in love for the first time.
“I wanted you to have these because they prove how much fun I had. Everyday, coming to school was fun because you were here.”
The subject of her unrequited love listened to her long monologue wordlessly. Neither his expression nor his posture changed, but when she finished and gazed up at him, he put his hand on the shopping bag filled with miscellaneous junk and tucked it under his arm carefully.
Then he held up an index finger. “Wait,” it seemed to say.
Because she fully expected him to walk away once the business was settled, she stood there transfixed by the gesture.
The silent boy reached for the third button on his school uniform and snatched it off the fabric. Holding the cheap copper button between his thumb and forefinger, Kotaro placed it softly on Tsuruhime open palms.
She recalled the old urban legend her grandfather used to tell her when she was little. During graduation, a girl may ask a boy for a button from his uniform. If the boy gives her the second button, she is his special someone. Because as the saying goes, the first one is yourself, the second one is your love, and the third one is your friend.
Tsuruhime let out a soft breath and smiled, cupping the button in her hands like a precious jewel.
Indeed, the March wind was very chilly.
--
When you think of spring, what comes to your mind? For me, the answer would be a “fateful encounter!” As the cherry blossom petals dance endlessly like snowfall, two people meet each other and fall in love. Spring should be a season filled with such bright and sweet memories.
But sometimes the cherry blossoms don’t bloom and the breeze is cold against your cheeks. Instead of marking the beginning of a wonderful memory, the coming of spring can mean the end of your fanciful daydream.
I recently learned that spring can be bittersweet.
Character(s): Katakura Kojuro; Sarutobi Sasuke; Date Masamune
Word Count: 4995
Other Sites: Ao3
Warnings: T
Summary: The problem with Date's parties is that the morning after is always filled with regret and an inexplicable amount of nudity. For the senbasajubilee
Aoba-jo was beautiful, and while it was still far from finished, the main enceinte had been completed, and the Date clan had moved in. It was cause for celebration, and Date Masamune was excellent at throwing parties. The problem was that his parties had a tendency to grow wildly out of control, especially when uninvited clans showed up. That, and the mornings after were always filled with regret and an inexplicable amount of nudity.
Kojuro woke up in the servant's quarters, of all places. He had some of his memories, but things were hazy, and after that, simply gone. Which was a problem, as the last he could recall of his lord was him running off to spar with the Tiger of Kai. A part of him was horrified that he had failed to keep track of Masamune, but a larger part had a damn headache and it was very hard to concentrate on his failings.
A cursory check of his being revealed that he still had all of his belongings, including, thankfully, his sword. Kojuro rose and cracked his back and neck. He needed to find his lord; the fact that the younger man was missing was a grave oversight on Kojuro's part. He decided to check outside first, as his Lord rarely retired to his room during more boisterous parties. The few servants he passed by on his way out gave him fairly sour looks, likely both for the disaster outside and for the intrusion into their quarters. Kojuro felt fairly chagrined, and resolved to give out bonuses for their trouble.
Outside was a mess of half-awake and still asleep soldiers, many of whom were down to their smalls. The destruction surprisingly extensive even in the relatively out-of-the-way courtyard. Luckily, it seemed mostly superficial, although Kojuro preyed his vegetable gardens had been spared. The Saika Faction, who had shown up with heavy artillery disguised as fireworks, were most assuredly responsible for most of the major damage. They would be getting a bill.
“Man,” came a voice from behind him. “Where did it go so wrong?” Kojuro didn't indicate his surprise physically, but he's pretty sure Sasuke knew he had gotten the drop on the swordsman. Katakura would have been angrier, if Sarutobi hadn't been looking a bit worse for wear, including the tell-tale signs of a hangover.
“What do you want, Saru?” Kojuro asked loudly, enjoying the wince and subsequent glare he received.
“Asshole,” Sasuke muttered. “Look, you don't know where the One-Eyed Dragon is, do you?” Kojuro narrowed his eyes.
“What do you want with my Lord?”
“Nothing with him, specifically, but I suspect Danna is with him.” Ah.
“You've lost your Lord too, then?”
“Not so much lost as...misplaced.”
“Right, of course.”
“Look, have you seen him or not? I gotta round up Lord Takeda and the boys too, before we overstay our welcome.”
“I believe it is far too late for that.”
“Very funny.”
“I suppose I can allow you to accompany me on my search for Lord Masamune, so long as you keep quiet.”
“No promises.” Sasuke shrugged and Kojuro sighed. “Hey, that your guy?”
“Your guy” turned out to be Katsuie, fast asleep a tree and looking fairly haggard. The man had gotten incredibly drunk the night before, and had regaled them all with horrifying and sometimes hilarious tales from his time in Nobunaga's command. He'd eventually started weeping over someone Kojuro believed to be O-Ichi, but at that point he'd lost so much coherency it had been difficult to tell. Last he'd seen of him, his rival Sakon had been trying to cheer him up. Said man was sprawled next to him, wearing a decorated pair of hakama that looked suspiciously like the ones Chosokabe had arrived in. It made Kojuro worried for the state of the pirate.
Kojuro gently shook Katsuie awake, hoping he'd be able to help with the search, but the other man immediately doubled over and expelled the contents of his stomach all over Kojuro's shoes. Well. Looked like he wouldn't be much help after all. Katsuie groaned in agony and curled up on the ground, desperate to keep the light out of his eyes; he didn't even seem to register Kojuro or the mess he had just made.
Taking pity, Kojuro decided to look to the man next to Katsuie instead. He was none too gentle at waking Sakon up, although he was more careful to stay out of the way of any more projectiles.
“Ugh, shit,” Sakon managed to wake up without any major incident, but he didn't seem happy to be awake. “What?”
“I need you to take Katsuie back to his quarters before he expires out here.” Katakura ordered, only mildly concerned about the security threat Sakon posed. “He's staying in a guest room in the east wing. The servants can help direct you.”
“Ugh, yeah, sure,” Sakon rubbed his face groggily. He surprised Kojuro when he suddenly jolted. “Lord Ishida! I have to find him!”
“If you can get Katsuie inside before you do, I'd be grateful. Ishida can take care of himself for a little while, but I'm not sure Katsuie can.” Sakon looked like he had something to say about that, but a groan from Katsuie kept him from releasing the words. He looked at the miserable figure at his side in sympathy before turning back to Katakura and nodding.
As Sakon gathered his indisposed rival up, Kojuro caught Sasuke's eye and jerked his head in the direction of the main courtyard. The two made their way down the connecting path; there was a lot of potential area to cover, as the party had spilled out of the enceinte and into the rest of the castle grounds once uninvited clans had shown up.
Soon the pathway lead out to the main courtyard, which had been the party's original epicenter. A giant nabe pot had been “procured” from Kobayakawa and set up along with various banquets and cushions and lanterns. In retrospect, there had been no way the courtyard could have held everyone.
They came upon Tadakatsu, covered in streamers, glitter, and what looked to be an eyepatch, dangling from one of his horns. The large warrior was picking up the giant pot, which had been tipped over sometime the night before. The remnants of their dinner had seeped into the ground, somewhat, creating a pungent muck that several soldiers had made their bed.
“Hey big guy,” Sasuke called, and strolled over to help the larger warrior steady the pot. Tadakatsu made a noise to indicate his thanks. Sasuke gestured to Tadakatsu's horn. “Looks like you picked up a new accessory. Thinking of starting a life of piracy?”
“!!!” Tadakatsu exclaimed. Sarutobi laughed and patted him on the arm good naturedly.
“Yeah, I hear ya; I'd get seasick after a while too. I imagine you'd have to find a boat solid enough to bear your weight as well.”
“!!!”
“Woah, hey, I wasn't calling you fat!” Sasuke put his hands up in a placating manner.
Tadakatsu wasn't the only one of Tokugawa's men that was awake and cleaning. The rest were also helping the servants clean away food and garbage. Most of them looked ill, but they were disciplined enough to stoically work through their hangovers. Kojuro was impressed; his men weren't as unruly as they used to be, but it had taken him a while to work it out of them. Ieyasu seemed to inspire self-control in men better than anyone Kojuro knew. The man in question stood off to the side directing his soldiers. When he caught sight of them, he beamed and waved them over.
If Kojuro was displeased to see how chipper Ieyasu was that morning, Sasuke was positively livid.
“How come he's fine?” The ninja grumbled . Tokugawa looked less pristine than he had last night and he was still wearing the...bondage gear? He had seen fit to show up in. Fortunately, he had also obtained Chosokabe's kimono. Unfortunately, he had chosen to leave it up, which meant Kojuro got a perfect view of several suspicions bruises dotting the man. He was not going to think too hard on that one.
“Good morning, Katakura-san, Sarutobi-san,” Ieyasu greeted them warmly. Sasuke made a displeased noise in his direction that seemed to roll off Ieyasu like water. Man was nothing if not congenial.
“Morning Ieyasu. Have you seen Masamune-dono?” Ieyasu shook his head.
“No, sorry. I can point you in the direction of Mitsunari, however. Or perhaps where the women are? Maria-dono and Saika-san seem very good at keeping track of things like that.”
“Perhaps Saika would be the best option, I need to speak with her anyway.” Kojuro did not think he could deal with Ishida's brand of melodrama that morning. Ieyasu laughed; his energy was quickly wearing on Kojuro.
“I suppose that's for the best. Mitsunari wasn't too happy this morning.” Tokugawa paused, considering. “Well, not in his usual 'I'm going to murder everything' way. More like, 'I made a terrible mistake last night and my head hurts'.”
“Ah, well I will take care to keep out of his way, regardless.”
“Saika-san and Maria-dono are at the stage with the rest of the women. You remember where that is, correct? Well, you can't really miss it.”
“Yes, I recall where it is.” Kojuro had been hoping his Lord had remained within the walls. He had to remind himself that Masamune was more than capable of looking after himself.
“Well, good luck. I'm sure Masamune-san is around here somewhere.” Ieyasu told him brightly. “Probably with Sanada-san.” He chuckled at that. Sasuke grimaced. “My men and I are going to help clear up some of the damage. Then we'll head out before Mitsunari gets his bearing and starts rampaging”
“Alright, thank you Tokugawa-san.” Kojuro polity inclined his head, and made a note to encourage Sakon to round up his lord if he saw him again that morning.
“And Ieyasu?”
“Yes, Kojuro?”
“Please at least close that kimono properly.” Ieyasu's laughter followed him as they walked away, and gave him little hope that his request would be fulfilled.
Kojuro was glad to see guards at the gate, although they had evidently been useless the night before. They bowed respectfully and let the men through, and the two quickly made there way down to the rest of the castle grounds. The stage was as Kojuro remembered, large and crudely made, but durable enough to withstand the many performers. Most of the men and women had migrated nearby at some point during the night, and someone had carved great gashes into patch of land for reasons unknown. A mountainous pile of clothing and other gambling winnings stood to one side of the stage. No doubt the Saika Faction had cleaned out every fool who had dared to challenge them. Which meant Date's men must have had nothing left.
Saika and Maria were indeed at the stage, with Saika addressing several of her men off to the side, and Maria resting on cushions no doubt stolen from the courtyard. The Oracle and Itsuki, who had bonded after a brief and childish rivalry over who had the larger idol status, and were now passed out together not far from Maria. They were using a deer- Shikanosuke's if he remembered correctly-as a make-shift pillow. Shikanosuke himself seemed to have been relegated to sleeping just off the stage with Maeda Keiji; poor kid. Naotora was retching nearby, with a couple of her women trying to cover her from further indignity. She tried to wave them off, unconcerned with keeping a lady-like appearance, and valiantly tried to regain some semblance of order by herself. Kojuro had to admire her stoicism.
Kojuro waded through the unconscious bodies, with the ninja close behind, trying not to step on anyone-particularly the women. The stage creaked ominously as he stepped up onto it, making him incredibly worried for the people still resting on it.
“Katakura-san, good morning.” Maria trilled, raising a hand. She seemed to sparkle in the morning light.
“Ah, Maria-dono, good morning.” Kojuro replied politely. “I apologize for not giving you and your friends proper accommodations last night. I fear I became somewhat indisposed.”
“Oh not at all,” Maria dismissed his concern with a tinkling laugh. “The weather was quite pleasant last night, so it was nice to sleep under the stars.”
“Still, it was wrong of me to not even be there to offer guest quarters.” He bowed in apology.
“Such a gentleman. If I hadn't witnessed your...prowess last night, I would never have imagined you were capable of such aggression.”
“My...prowess?” The words caught in his throat. Maria seemed delighted with his horror.
“Why, your incredible skills in kenjutsu, my dear. Some of those foolish boys were boasting about how well they handled their swords. You put them in their place with a lovely display.” Mortification settled in Kojuro's stomach as Maria gestured to the gouges in the ground. He had absolutely no memory of doing such a thing. He bowed low, embarrassed by the spectacle he must have made of himself the night prior.
“I am greatly apologetic for my unseemly display last night. I should not have let drunken pride get the better of me.”
“Oh no, not at all. It was quite an invigorating show.” Kojuro flushed at the leer the lady sent his way. He resisted the urge to fidget like a child.
“Um, yes, well.” Kojuro pretended not to hear Sasuke snickering behind him. He'd put the ninja in his place later. “I am looking for Lord Masamune, as well as Sanada-san.”
“Hmm, I don't think I've seen them this morning.” Maria put a hand under her chin delicately. She called to the mercenary off-stage. “Saika, dear, do you happen to know where our gracious host is?” Saika glanced back before wrapping up her talk and making her way up on stage.
“Are you referring to Date?” She asked, casting a brief glance at Maeda, still asleep against the platform. “I haven't seen him since last night. He flew by here fighting with the Tiger.”
“I see, thank you anyway.” Kojuro was about to get off the stage when he spotted the pile of winnings again, and he got an idea. “Magoichi, I assume all of that is last night's ill-gotten gains?”
“The Saika Faction obtained those goods fair and square. It is of no concern of mine nor my men if the rest of these louts aren't as skilled as my men.”
“Perhaps a trade, then? The Saika Faction is responsible for a lot of damage to Aoba-jo and the surrounding area. We will forgo demanding any major payments if you would kindly return the clothes to the more indecent soldiers.”
“I am under the impression that it was the revelers who caused the most destruction.”
“Playing coy doesn't suit you, Magoichi. I'm sure you aren't anymore keen than the rest of us to be subjected to such obscenity so early in the morning.”
“I can't say I care all that much.” Saika said, but she huffed and acquiesced. “Fine, we'll give back enough of the clothing to keep everyone presentable, as well as fix some of the worst of the damage. That should be enough to set us even, I believe.”
“That sounds acceptable, if you could have your men dismantle the stage as well, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Fine, but we're keeping any valuables from Oshu's men.” Saika crossed her arms under her breasts, as if to close negotiations.
“If you can find anything of value from our men, feel free.” He smirked at her, knowing full well how difficult that would be. The gamblers in Date's army tended to lose any wealth they gained almost immediately. Magoichi grunted in acknowledgment and stepped away to kick Maeda awake. Katakura took this as his cue to leave, and as he stepped down from the stage he realized that Sarutobi was gone.
He glanced around, surprised, as he had expected to be stuck with his unwanted companion for a while. A call, executed in Chosokabe's rough baritone, caught his attention.
“Oi! Kojuro!” Chosokabe was waving to him a little ways off, just far enough that Kojuro hadn't noticed him immediately. In front of him stood the missing ninja, standing so Kojuro could just make out his face. It was twisted in a look of displeasure, which Kojuro immediately understood as Motochika moved out from behind Sasuke. Katakura abruptly closed his eyes.
“Chosokabe, there are women and children present.” Kojuro barked, pinching his nose. Well, that confirmed his suspicions about the state of the pirate. He opened his eyes again, but kept them focused higher up on Motochika's body as he walked over to join the pair. The pirate grinned, unashamed off his nudity; in fact, he merely cocked his hips forward, putting himself on further display. Sasuke seemed torn between laughing and gagging.
“No idea where my shit is; think I lost it all gambling last night. I'm trying to find my underwear, at least.” He gestured to his groin, but Kojuro did not follow the action downwards. Instead, he kept his eyes trained evenly on Chosokabe's face; not lingering too long on the naked, gnarled eye socket, but neither shying away from it. “The boys have already offered me their clothing, but most off them have nothing left either.”
“Many of my men are in a similar state.” Kojuro acknowledged. “Ieyasu has your kimono, Tadakatsu has your eye-patch, and I believe Sakon has your hakama. It seems the Saika faction cleaned out most of the soldiers, so she might have your footwear. I have convinced her to release enough of the clothing so as to make everyone decent.”
“Well, Ieyasu can keep the kimono. He has that silly little thing on, and it's kinda cold this morning. As a man of the sea, I'm used to a brisk breeze.”
“Well, swell for you,” Sasuke muttered disgustingly, shifting his eyes away from the man before him. Motochika threw back his head and guffawed loudly.
“I'll see if Sakon and Tadakatsu will relinquish my hakama and eye-patch. You haven't seen my fundoshi by any chance?”
“I have not,” Kojuro told him. “And I'm not sure I would recognize it as yours if I saw it, anyhow.”
“Hey now, this isn't your run-of-the-mill underwear. This is my gambling fundoshi, purple with a nice sakura pattern; made of silk. I normally don't even bother with underwear, but when I'm gambling I tend to lose a lot of stuff. Might as well have another article of clothing before I have to resort to betting my canons.” Sasuke snorted.
“I think we can all be thankful for that.”
“You guys were looking for your boys, right? Pretty sure they never left the castle grounds. They were really going wild last night, I'm jealous.”
“Yes, well. We're hoping they didn't go too wild.” Kojuro thanked the pirate and they parted ways.
“I told you they weren't out here,” Sasuke crossed his arms behind his head as they climbed back up to the enceinte. Kojuro did not roll his eyes, because he was a man of great self-control, but it was a near thing.
“I had difficulty imagining my Lord retiring to his chambers with so many guests on the castle grounds.” Sasuke picked up on his meaning and snorted. “Besides, it was possible he and Sanada-san moved their fight into the nearby forest.”
“You underestimate my scouting ability-and the amount of destruction the two of them can create-if you think I wouldn't have discovered if they were in there.”
“Given that you still don't know where either of our lords our, I think I estimate them fairly accurately.”
“I was trying to be courteous by not snooping around any more than I have.” Sasuke shrugged, which looked awkward with his arms still behind his head. “Guess I shouldn't have bothered; lord knows you and your men have been all over Ueda-jo.”
“How Ueda-jo chooses to deal with its security is your concern, not mine.”
“Hey, not like this place is a paragon of defense. You may have a tough time getting an army up here, but gimme a night and I could wipe you guys out by myself.”
“Is that a threat?” Kojuro rested his hand heavily on the hilt of his katana.
“No, geez, I'm not going to do anything Danna doesn't want me too.” Sasuke held his hands up in surrender for the second time that morning. “I'm just saying: an earthquake could take this place out.”
Katakura chose not to dignify that with a response, and stormed on ahead. Sasuke hung back to give him some space, and soon they re-entered the main enceinte.
“So we're thinking what, Date's room?”
“I will go have a look in my Lord's chambers, and other apartments. You can keep searching around here.”
“Uh, no, I'm coming with you. I don't know what state Danna is in, he may require my assistance.”
“You mean you're worried my Lord or I might do something untoward to Sanada if you aren't around”
“Nooooo, ya think?” Kojuro bristled at the slight on his character, and the two bickered until they reached the mansion Masamune's apartments resided.
“Good morning, Katakura-san, Sasuke-san,” came a soft voice from the veranda, interrupting a particularly colorful remark from Sarutobi. The two of them turned away from each other to face Kenshin, who looked very relaxed. Kasuga was sleeping with her head in Kenshin's lap, and the God of War was stroking it peacefully.
The night before, Kenshin had endured a lot of loud demands for proof of his masculinity, mainly from Chosokabe's crew and, embarrassingly, Masamune's own troops. Kasuga had been quick to attack any and all foolish enough to question her lord.
“Good morning, Kenshin-Dono,” Kojuro greeted, bowing politely. “I apologize for our men last night, they were completely out of line.” He was apologizing a hell of a lot that morning.
“It's no trouble, I am used to such things.” Kenshin chuckled. “I find it quite amusing to keep everyone guessing, actually.”
“Kenshin, you seen Danna?” Sasuke was blatantly staring at Kasuga's tits, wrapped up in an appallingly pink catsuit.
“I have, actually, although not recently.” Kenshin tilted his head to indicate behind him, where the entrance to building had been deeply scarred by some recent fight. “The Dragon and Tiger passed through here in the early morning, spirits clashing brightly. I have not seen them since, and I believe they are still inside. Or perhaps, they found another way out.”
“That is helpful, thank you Lord Kenshin.” Katakura stepped onto the veranda and moved to enter the house as Kasuga stirred.
“Lord Kenshin?” She murmured, slightly dazed.
“Yo, welcome back to the world of the living.” Sarutobi grinned at her, causing her to sit up quickly.
“You!” She shouted, much to Sasuke's displeasure. “What do you think you're doing so close to Lord Kenshin?!”
“Hey now, I'm not the one who fell asleep when I was supposed to be protecting my boss.” Sasuke smirked at her. “You were really out, too. You should have woken up the moment we were within range.” Kasuga flushed with humiliation, and Kojuro couldn't help but feel sympathetic.
“Lord Kenshin!” She cried, falling into a kowtow. “I-I cannot even begin to tell you how ashamed I am for neglecting my duties in such a manner.”
“Nothing to worry about, my Beautiful Blade,” Kenshin merely had to smile for the kunoichi to stop stammering and melt. “Much as the sword is beautiful when sheathed, so too, is your sleeping face enchanting.” Kojuro did not know how the man could come up with such things, but Kasuga sure seemed to enjoy it, if her cries of delight were anything to go by.
“Well, if we're finished here, I guess we should check inside,” Sasuke told them, clearly not interested in seeing the two coo at each other. “Hey Kasuga, feel free to swing by Kai sometime. I can show you a new technique I picked up in Yoshiwara.”
Kasuga squawked indignantly, making Kenshin chuckle. Kojuro steered Sasuke into the building before the kunoichi could stick him with her kunai.
There turned out to be a very easy-to-follow trail of chaos. They followed the destruction through the house towards Masamune's apartments, and Kojuro kept berating himself for not checking there first.
“Wait, do you hear that?” Sasuke put a hand up to one ear, straining to hear. It took Kojuro a few more steps, but he soon heard the sounds of battle.
“You don't suppose they're fighting this early?” Kojuro muttered to Sasuke.
“I think the real question is whether they ever stopped.” They wouldn't have, would they? Well, maybe Yukimura would, but surely Masamune-dono was a little more reasonable. Then again, his lord tended to act recklessly where the Tiger of Kai was concerned.
The fusuma to the main room of Lord Masamune's chambers had been completely demolished. The damage inside wasn't quite as extensive as the rest of the mansion, but clearly his lord cared little for his personal belongings in the face of Sanada's fire. He shared a brief look with Sasuke, who looked like he wanted to make a particularly raunchy joke. Kokuro was thankful the ninja decided to hold his tongue.
There was a small courtyard on the other end of the room, and the fusuma leading to the veranda were broken. Even before they step out onto the veranda the two can see their charges, still engaged in combat. Masamune had opted to wear his casual hakama for the party, and it had not stood up to the violence. In fact, a few more lucky strikes from Yukimura, and his Lord would be in a rather shameless state. Yukimura, who had, bizarrely, chosen to wear an outfit suspiciously resembling his Lord's, which had revved up Masamune something fierce.
“Oi, fight's over!” Sasuke called, causing the two men to jerk apart in surprise. Yukimura jammed the blades of his spears into the ground and Masamune clumsily put away his swords. “Unbelievable.”
“Ah, Kojuro,” Masamune grinned, bright and satisfied, despite how tired he looked. “Party over, huh?”
“My lord, have you been fighting all night?” Kojuro probably didn't need to ask, but felt himself compelled to do so anyhow.
“Heh, guess I have.” Masamune's grin became sheepish when he had to catch himself as he started to sway on his feet. Yukimura took that moment to collapse, desperately trying to use his spears for support. The ninja was over helping his charge up before he could fall over completely, and grunted as he bore the entirety of Yukimura's weight.
“Danna, what the hell have you been eating?” Sanada ignored him in favor of yelling at his rival.
“Curse the weakness of my body!” Sanada crowed, heedless of the ninja's close ears. It was impressive how loud Yukimura could be after hours of non-stop fighting.“I am greatly shamed, Lord Masamune, that my stamina has failed me so. My soul yearns to ignite with yours, but my body can no longer bear the burden! I must train doubly so to bring my body closer to my spirit!”
“Yeah, yeah, how 'bout you save that passion for after a nap? One can't live off 'the burning of the soul' forever.” Yukimura looked like he wanted to protest that, as though he thought he could live solely on his passion, when the rest of his body betrayed him by letting out a violent shudder of exhaustion.
“Sleep, yeah?” Masamune told him, pretending he wasn't using the tree he was leaning on for support. “We can go at it again when you wake up.”
“I look forward to renewing our battle after a brief respite. I shall dream of your strength and domineering spirit.”
“Oh, I'll dominate you next time we cross blades, for sure.” Masamune gave his rival a predatory leer. Kojuro and Sasuke shared a horrified glance at their lords' banter.
“Ok, bed. Now.” Sasuke frog-marched Yukimura back inside, leaving Kojuro with his slowly crumpling lord. As soon as the Tiger and Monkey were out of earshot, Masamune collapsed. Mildly alarmed by his lord's exhaustion, Kojuro went to his lord's side and examined him for any injuries that might have escaped his attention.
“S'good, Kojuro, just tired.” Masamune grinned tiredly at his Right Eye. Kojuro huffed and continued his examination. There were a couple of gashes and burns that would require attention, but nothing life threatening. Masamune's grin turned dopey. “Last night was good, Yukimura was really hot.” Kojuro sighed.
“Do you even remember anything about the rest of the party?” Koujro asked, both legitimately curious and completely weary.
“There was nabe and fireworks. I think Keiji started a dance.”
“Yes, and I fear your newly built castle is in need of repairs already. We also have several enemies on the premise.” Masamune laughed.
“I figured. It's fine, I want Aoba-jo to be a place of celebration and peace.” Masamune smiled as he leaned into Kojuro's shoulder “This was good, you know?”
It had been good, for whatever problems had arisen, and whatever damage had been done to the castle. Everyone was tense these days, friends were turning enemies, enemies were turning to grudging friends. They had been doing this for years, and would probably continue to do so for years to come. But for the moment, Date was happy, and Kojuro was pleased to see his Lord relaxed. He smiled, and helped Masamune to his feet.
Masamune swayed slightly, but kept his feet beneath him. He opened his mouth to speak when something behind Kojuro caught his attention. Date frowned and squinted his eye. Curious, Kojuro turned to find what his Lord was looking at. Exasperation crept through his body as he located a scrap of bright purple fabric flapping from the roof of the nearest turret.
Super happy to have played SB and learned lots of things from it. Certainly one of the best games I've ever played ;;u;;
Excitedly waiting for the new game! Happy anniversary~ ^^
Character (s) : Gotou Matabei; Kuroda Kanbei; Date Masamune
Word Count : 1271
Other Sites : N/A
Warnings : Blood and character death
Summary : After killing all the people in his Enmachou, Matabei wonders why revenge wasn’t as satisfying as he had hoped it would be. Takes place during Matabei’s drama route. For senbasajubilee
It started to rain in Oshu. The fields that glowed a lush green under the sunlight were now soaked under the pitter patter of rain. Today, the soaked fields, the grass suffocated by the pilling up of mud, were joined by splatters of scarlet, the rich, redness fading away with the flow of rain water, like the lives of the many merry men of Oshu.
Blades, some broken, and some not, but all stained with the blood of their wielders, were scattered across the fields surrounding Aoba Castle. Fallen men, with their armor cracked and broken, with their skin pierced, stabbed and torn through, were too scattered about the now crimson-stained fields, sleeping. Only, this was one they wouldn’t be waking up from.
The bodies of the dead Date soldiers, along with the broken and battered remnants of what were once swords, made a bloody trail of relentless massacre that led into Aoba Castle, into the dragon’s den, the den of the One-Eyed Dragon, the glimmer of hope of the men of Date, the one they knew who could put an end to this blood-stained nightmare.
But, even the One-Eyed Dragon had his wings clipped, his scales torn, and his fangs rendered useless. By the fanged beast in faded purple.
“Kikikikiki…..D-Date…..Date Masamune……is finally…..finally……dead!! Kikikiki…KIKIKIKIKIKI!!” Matabei stood before the battered, bloody corpse of the fallen dragon king, the smile that was playing on his lips making its way even further up his cheeks. Matabei gripped his fanged blade, gloved fingers wrapping around the weapon. He pulled, yanking the blade out of Masamune’s gut, sickening squelching accompanying the blade as it made its way out, splattering blood across Matabei’s pale face. Staggering backward from the momentum, Matabei fell, sitting down, his blade clattering to the ground.
“Date…..you’ve received….the-horrible-death-of-smearing-your-smug-face-with-the-blood-of-your-men penalty…kikikiki….” Matabei wheezed in-between his words, his dark eyes staring at the motionless dragon as he spoke. “This Matabei-sama…..has finally…finally… executed you….ahekuekekekeke….”
“Hideyoshi-sama…..H-Hanbei-sama….did you see this…this Matabei-sama…execute this foolish dragon? Did you? DID YOU?”
Silence. For the skies had no voice to answer him, no ears to listen to him.
Sighing, Matabei lied down on the ground, paying no mind to Masamune next to him. Matabei pulled out his Enmachou, the pages now crumpled and torn and wet with blood. Opening the little mark book, names, scrawled on the yellowing parchment with black ink, jumped out at him, most of the names crossed out with a single, thick, brush stroke.
All but one. Date Masamune.
Matabei leaned over and dipped his clawed finger into the crimson flower that blossomed around Masamune, crossing out the dragon lord’s name in his Enmachou with a swift stroke of crimson.
Holding the Enmachou in the air, Matabei simply stared, at the clusters of crossed out names, and at the final one crossed in dried blood. The pitter patter of rain continued, peppering the Enmachou, soaking it. Matabei flung the Enmachou away, the book landing unceremoniously in a puddle. He now stared at the grey, gloomy, cloudy sky, as raindrops rolled down his face, caressing him, before returning to the puddles below.
He just didn’t understand.
He had killed everyone in his Enmachou.
He had crossed out every single name.
He had tainted his hands with their putrid, honorable, dignified, blood.
He had made up for his past losses, his wounded pride.
So shouldn’t he be happy?
Shouldn’t he be celebrating?
He just…..didn’t understand. Matabei didn’t understand what he was feeling at that very moment, under the gaze of the clouds and their dark underbellies. It was a strange, surreal emptiness that was eating away inside of him, enveloping him from within in its cold, cruel embrace. Now that he had killed everyone in his Enmachou, what was he to do now? He had achieved his goals, mended his damaged pride, and now….he was aimless. Directionless. Like the ronin he had become, ever since he left Kuroda Kanbei’s side, ever since he left that mole to his mining and his delusions of grandeur.
Matabei hated this feeling. This feeling of absolute emptiness.
He wished he could write it down in his Enmachou, hunt it down, kill it, and rid his life of it. He wished it could be as simple as that. As simple as hunting and killing a person.
Matabei turned his gaze to his Enmachou lying deep in the puddle of water, the drenched pages tearing away from the mark book. Getting up from the ground, Matabei walked over to the puddle and picked up the book, a thin sheet of parchment slipping out from between soaked pages. Matabei bent down and picked it up, his lips, now wet from the rain, forming a thin line at the messy juvenile handwriting that filled the little piece of paper. His handwriting.
Whisked away from the place he held dear, away from lovely Harima
To a place with a castle that pierced the sunny sky of Osaka
A castle with endless halls lined with the flutter of light pink blossoms
A castle with a library filled with shelves upon shelves of books
A castle as regal as the lord that ruled within it, his fists mighty
A castle as beautiful as the strategist plagued with sickness, his voice like smooth velvet
A castle as wonderful as the scruffy caretaker, his smile honest and warm like the midday sun
A castle that he now calls home.
All at once, a flurry of forgotten memories resurfaced in Matabei’s mind, the poem a reminder of a forgotten pastime, a forgotten peaceful carefreeness, a forgotten feeling of utmost joy, and a forgotten relationship that now lay buried deep under the heavy rocks of Ishigakibaru.
Matabei hated the sudden rush of emotions. He hated the memories that now came rushing back to him.
He wanted those sickeningly joyous memories to just fade away.
He wanted to put them under lock and key and burn them.
He just…wanted them gone.
Because wouldn’t it be simpler if he just continued living the way he lived now?
The life of a ronin. Without attachments.
Without that silly mole insisting he return to him.
Kuroda Kanbei. The thought of that man made Matabei sick to the stomach. That man dwelled in the past, always seeing Matabei as the quiet little boy that was handed over to him by Gotou Motokuni, always viewing him as the same naïve child in need of his protection in his fringe-obscured eyes.
Matabei hated him. At least, that was what he wanted to do. To be able to hate that man.
He even wrote Kanbei’s name in his Enmachou. Only to cross it out immediately.
He wasn’t able to hate him, as much as he wanted to do so. And that made Matabei angry.
It made him angry at himself, angry at the irony that he, too, dwelled on memories of the past, angry at the overwhelming mixture of emotions that throbbed in his heart at that moment. Anger, emptiness and confusion were the emotions Matabei felt, as he stuffed the poem back into the pages of his Enmachou, grabbed his fang blade, and took one last look at the now decaying dragon lord, and made his way through the trail of bodies he had left earlier, the rain now stopping and the sky slowly returning to its azure hue.
Matabei was now off to Ishigakibaru, to meet a certain mole and to hopefully rid his mouth of the horribly bitter aftertaste of finally clearing his Enmachou. Who knew a dish as initially joyfully sweet as revenge would have such a terrible aftertaste?
