Part 3

The room they'd taken had a window that faced east, and had no curtains. The first rays of dawn streamed in through the warped and bubbled glazing of the window, striking Katsushiro full on the face and making him frown in his sleep.

Morning, his sleepy brain registered reluctantly. Time to get up. Usually he had no problems bouncing up to greet the day, but for some reason today he was unusually tired. Moreover, as he discovered when he attempted to stretch, it was difficult to move.

There were two reasons for this, both of which caused memory to flood back to him. The first reason was the stiff soreness in many of his muscles, the ache of the bruises on his back and wrists, and the uncomfortable pain in his backside where he'd been forcibly penetrated with no lubrication the day before.

The second reason was an infinitely more pleasant reminder; a strong arm thrown casually over his waist, holding him back against an equally strong body. Figuring there was no way the older samurai had slept through Katsushiro's squirming attempt at a stretch, he smiled into his pillow and murmured, "Good morning, Kyuuzou."

There was no trace of sleep in the older samurai's voice as he replied. "Good morning." From the voice, he might well have been awake all night, watching over Katsushiro. In fact, he'd only awoken minutes before, as the first rays of sunlight had peeked over the buildings.

The last thing in the world Kyuuzou wanted to do was let go of Katsushiro and roll over, but that's precisely what he did. Damage control and escape from this town were the first orders of business. Rikichi had to be told a convincing story to explain why Katsushiro was injured, and any noises he might have heard, and then they had to get out of here.

"Did you sleep at all?" Katsushiro asked through a yawn as he sat up. Without thinking he put his weight on his sore wrist to push himself up, and grimaced. "Ow, damn it."

Shoving the covers off, he took stock of himself. The bandage on his thigh, at least, was still clean, indicating he hadn't torn open the stitches or started it bleeding again. His wrist was about twice the size it should be, and sore to the touch - possibly he should have used his OTHER hand on Kyuuzou last night, Katsushiro acknowledged with a blush. He hadn't been thinking at the time. The bruises on his wrists and arms were dark black and blue. "Do my shoulders look as bad as the rest of me?" he asked with a sigh, reaching for his hair tie and trying to figure out how he was going to get his hair up using only one hand.

"Yes," Kyuuzou said. At least he was honest. Taking a soft robe from the back of the door, he wrapped it around himself, then held the second out towards Katsushiro. They had a bit of time to bathe, and he wanted to make sure all traces of their act from the night before had been erradicated before Rikichi saw them.

Giving up on his hair for the moment, Katsushiro just tucked it behind his ears to get it out of his face and accepted the robe. Dressed in the thin cotton, with his hair down and his eyes sleepy, he looked even younger than usual, delicate and vulnerable. The deep bruises that peeked out from under the sleeves of the yukata only enhanced the impression.

Grabbing his sword with his off hand, he slid his feet into his sandals and politely indicated that Kyuuzou should precede him from the room.

"Keep your head down," Kyuuzou instructed him, strapping his own double-ended saya to his back, over his robe. Hopefully he'd look intimidating and strange enough that no attention would be paid to his companion - who would likely look like an abused student or servant. He opened the door and strode out of the room, pausing to make sure he could still hear the sounds of Rikichi's snores from the next room. Satisfied that the peasant was still asleep, he headed down the hall.

Wondering why the older man wanted him to keep his head down, Katsushiro nevertheless obeyed. The only people awake downstairs were the staff of the inn, already hard at work getting breakfast ready for their early rising customers. More than one of them cast oddly sympathetic looks at Katsushiro, whispering behind their backs as the two samurai passed.

"What was THAT all about?" Katsushiro wondered as they entered the bathing room and the door slid shut behind them.

"You're more forgettable as my servant," Kyuuzou explained, unstrapping his katana and setting it aside, then slipping out of his robe. "Especially with the bruises they can see. They feel pity for you, then forget you, rather than informing the Yakuza of our presence here." He glanced towards Katsushiro. "It buys us some time."

Katsushiro glanced down to the katana he held in his off hand. Nobody but samurai carried katana. Well, servants could be awfully stupid. Maybe they'd think he was just carrying his master's sword for him. But there was no way in hell he was leaving his sword behind, or giving it to someone else to carry. "We should be quick, though," he said aloud, leaning it against a nearby wall as he stripped off his robe. "The sooner we're out of this city, the happier I'll be."

And that had been the only reason why Kyuuzou hadn't insisted Katsushiro leave his katana behind or give it to him. Besides, people made assumptions, and were stupid. And most of them didn't really know anything about samurai. "I agree," he said. "But we have a few things to do first." He grabbed the bucket and filled it with cold water, dumping it over his head. "First of all," he said, brushing his dripping hair out of his eyes. "We smell like sex."

"We do?" Katsushiro stared at him, astonished at the very idea. "It has a smell?" It hurt to squat on the stool, but he managed, carefully unwinding the bandage from his thigh. The arrow had gone deep, but someone had expertly sutured the wound and it seemed to be healing well enough now that his fever had broken. Setting the bandages aside where they wouldn't get wet, he grabbed another bucket and started washing as well.

"Semen has a smell, and sweat has a smell," Kyuuzou said, shrugging as he scrubbed down with a cake of soap left on a shelf near the stool and cold water spout.

"I didn't smell anything," Katsushiro insisted, wrinkling his nose, which had the side effect of giving him an adorable expression. Thinking back on it, though, he remembered the odd scent that had seemed to permeate the brothel where they'd met up with Shichirouji. "Mmm... on second thought, maybe I have smelled it before," he acknowledged. "I just didn't know what it was."

Kyuuzou's lips quirked. "Now you know," he said. He resisted the urge to simply kiss that adorable look off of Katsushiro's face, then wondered why he was resisting. Leaning forward, he did exactly that, feeling a thrill of pleasure at the impulsive act.

Not expecting the sudden move, Katushiro gave a muffled squeak of surprise before melting into the embrace. "Mmm, nice," he murmured when Kyuuzou pulled away a bit. "I could get used to this."

"...me too," Kyuuzou replied, that almost-smile playing about his lips once more. "Too used to it, maybe," he added, filling another bucket of water and splashing it over this head to wash off the soap. Turning away, he stepped into the tub, sinking into the hot water up to his neck. Even he couldn't repress a soft moan of pleasure as the water made him tingle all the way down to his toes.

With a soft sigh, Katsushiro went back to scrubbing himself, hurrying so he'd have a few moments to relax in the hot water with Kyuuzou. Too used to it, indeed... he thought to himself. Realistically I know this isn't going to last long. If one or both of us don't die in the battle, the whole group will still be splitting up again once it's all over. And if Sensei really has accepted me as a student, then my place is with him, not Kyuuzou. The thought... hurt, just a little, a deep ache under his breastbone, but he shook it off and stood, rinsing off once more before making his way to the tub.

Kyuuzou's eyes slitted open to watch Katsushiro approach the tub. He sat up slightly to make room for the younger man, holding out a hand to help him get into the tub without stepping on him.

Giving in to a reckless impulse, Katsushiro accepted the hand in, but then settled himself straddling Kyuuzou's lap instead of beside him. Heart pounding, hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds, he leaned forward and rested his head on the strong shoulder. He found himself craving the contact, the reassurance, trying to absorb as much as possible so he'd have plenty of memories saved up against the moment when it would end.

Kyuuzou stiffened in surprise for a moment, but by the time Katsushiro leaned forward against him, he'd relaxed again. Tentatively, he wound his arms around Katsushiro's body, careful to avoid the bruised shoulders, and pressed a kiss to the wet hair. His body reacted instantly to the contact and he cursed inwardly. He'd have to learn to control that, before they arrived at the wing rock.

Katsushiro smiled as he felt Kyuuzou stir to life against his inner thigh, and his own body responded in kind. He made no move to do anything about it, though - even if there hadn't been the danger of another patron walking in on them, they still didn't have time. They needed to get on the road as quickly as possible, to meet up with the others.

He found himself wishing he could drag it out, though - it would be hard enough to find moments alone with Kyuuzou when it was only Rikichi they had to deal with. Once they joined the others, it would only get harder. "This is going to be difficult," he murmured sadly, nuzzling a bit. "But worth it."

"I agree," Kyuuzou whispered, stroking Katsushiro's back gently. He rested there for a few long minutes, then tapped Katsushiro on the lower back in an odd sort of signal. "Up. We must get going."

Katsushiro had been expecting that basically from the moment he sat down... he drew in one more deep breath, savouring the scent of the warm body against him, then stood and stretched carelessly, working out the kinks that had settled into his back from the odd position. The stretch pulled at his abused shoulders, and he winced.

Kyuuzou watched the stretch with admiring and possessive eyes, waiting for the younger samurai to get out of the tub before he too rose, stretched, and followed. He grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off. "Today you will take it easy," he said firmly. "Rikichi and I will carry the supplies, and you will refrain from straining your wrist any further. Unless you are in immediate danger, you are not to draw your sword. Understood?"

"Hai," Katsushiro nodded, acknowledging Kyuuzou's authority in this. The older samurai was a great deal more experienced, and Katsushiro was certainly willing to bow to his leadership. Especially since they really didn't have much choice in the matter, if he wanted to be able to fight for the village. He dried off quickly and pulled his robe on, then once again struggled with his hair, wishing he'd never taken it down. I may just have to leave it down until my wrist is better, he sighed to himself. It's going to be a mess if I can't put it up...

Kyuuzou watched him struggle for a moment, then crossed the room to stand behind him. He reached out and gathered the hair up into the boy's usual high ponytail, then extended his hand to take the tie. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to get the hair looking relatively normal.

"Thank you," Katsushiro said gratefully, smiling up at him. The metal cover and headband he wore were still back in their room, but he could manage that on his own. Who would ever have guessed he'd have such gentle hands? he wondered to himself. Grabbing his katana in his off hand, he nodded at the door. "Shall we? Rikichi's probably awake and wondering what happened to us."

"Yes," Kyuuzou agreed, winding his own robe around his body and then strapping on his katana. "Let's go. We're going to tell Rikichi that you were attacked by Yakuza, and injured. Any noises he heard were due to pain from your wounds, last night, while I cleaned and dressed them."

Katsushiro's mouth quirked. "We can try - it's the best explanation I can think of," he agreed. Personally, he had to wonder if the excuse would fly... Rikichi had been married, presumably he knew the difference between the sounds someone made in pain or in pleasure. Well, if they were lucky, the walls would have muffled the sounds enough. They had been rather quiet.

"If I explain it to him, he'll believe me," Kyuuzou said with a chilly look in his eyes. "He won't question me." At least Katsushiro was the only one who had made any noises.

That made Katsushiro laugh softly. "That, I will believe," he agreed. Kyuuzou could be intimidating at the best of times, and Rikichi was in awe of all the samurai. Even if the peasant man did question their story, he wouldn't say anything to anyone else.

As Katsushiro had predicted, the third member of their party was indeed awake and waiting for them, packed and ready to go. "O-samurai-sama," he greeted them, peering anxiously at the two of them. They'd dressed before going to get him, and the long sleeves of Katsushiro's jacket hid the bruises on his wrists. "Is everything okay? What happened yesterday that made us have to change rooms so quickly?"

"Katsushiro was attacked by Yakuza," Kyuuzou said shortly. "The hotel was no longer safe." He eyed the boy critically, no trace of his earlier softness in his eyes or bearing. In fact, he looked almost as though he thought Katsushiro had done something wrong, and that he wanted to punish him for it. "I dressed his wounds last night, and he will keep up with us as we go, despite his injuries, but he will not be carrying anything or fighting."

Despite knowing they'd been planning to hide their new relationship from the peasant, Katsushiro was a little startled by the abrupt change in attitude from the other samurai. His spine straightened and his shoulders tensed at the sudden sensation of being under attack. Don't take it personally, he reminded himself, biting his lower lip. He's not angry, it's just an act.

"I'm fine," he said, a little stiffly. Well, Rikichi knew how sensitive Katsushiro was about his pride, and how much he hated being looked down upon. He bowed slightly in Kyuuzou's direction. "Kyuuzou-dono helped me fight them off before they did any serious damage," he assured the worried looking peasant. "We should leave quickly, though - they'll be looking for us."

"Ahh... hai, o-samurai-sama," Rikichi agreed with an awkward bob of a bow. "I'll get the packs, and we can be on our way."

Kyuuzou nodded and leaned against the wall, folding his arms and staring at nothing in particular as he waited for the peasant to return. It didn't occur to him that Katsushiro might be upset by his behaviour, assuming that the reaction was part of the act. After all, they'd agreed to hide the relationship, and to convince Rikichi that nothing had changed. Naturally, they had to ACT as though nothing had changed, for that to work.

Rikichi was back within moments, and the whole group of them trouped down the stairs. "How are we going to pay for the inn?" Katsushiro wondered. Most of the rice Kirara had brought from Kanna village was gone, fed to greedy samurai who were more than happy to eat a bowl before refusing the peasants' request. There was more awaiting them in the village, she'd assured them, but in the meantime they couldn't use it to pay for their stay.

Kyuuzou rolled his eyes slightly and pulled a string of coins out of his coat. It was attached to his belt, and was completely hidden until he revealed it, and accounted for a sizeable amount of money. "This is not a problem," he said, pulling two coins off of the string and hiding the rest again. This ought to cover the two rooms and hot water.

Katsushiro blinked, surprised. It probably should have occurred to him that Kyuuzou would have money, he realized. After all, the older man had been employed before he'd killed Hyougo and gone ronin to join them. Unlike the rest of them, who had been ronin to start with. Even Kambei and Shichirouji didn't have much in the way of funds, tending to work just enough to support themselves.

Kyuuzou paid the innkeeper and they left without incident, though Katsushiro found himself looking nervously over his shoulder the moment they left the shelter of the inn. It seemed to his hyperactive imagination that everyone was staring at them, and all the stares were unfriendly. He could feel the tension building between his shoulder blades, but he ignored it as best he could. His left hand was white-knuckled on his saya, though.

"Relax," Kyuuzou said as he turned down the street and headed towards the outskirts of the city. "It's unlikely that they'll attack during the day, when we're armed and aware." Nevertheless, his eyes darted from side to side. They were definitely being observed, and despite his words to the contrary, he thought it possible that the Yakuza would try to avenge their fallen comrades.

Katsushiro nodded, the movement jerky with strain, but his hand didn't relax on the sheath. He knew he was making Rikichi nervous, but he wouldn't be able to relax until they were out of the city and on the road again. Kyuuzou's with you, he reminded himself, You're safe, he'll protect you, he won't let them take you again... The litany played through his mind endlessly, but it was only marginally reassuring.

They almost made it. Just as the outskirts of the town came into sight, the countryside stretching out before them like a beckoning hand, Kyuuzou froze, his head coming up as his sensitive ears heard the sound of a sword being drawn. "They're here," he said, drawing both katana and stopping in the middle of the street.

They were just beyond the last building, hiding in the shadows and wouldn't have been visible until they were right on top of them. Kyuuzou waited for them to come to him.

Katsushiro's hand went to the hilt of his katana, and he ignored the jab of pain in his injured wrist. He didn't draw it yet, but he could have it out in less than an instant if needed. "Rikichi-dono, stay between us," he snapped, backing up towards one of the buildings in order to put the wall at his back and give them fewer angles of attack.

Kyuuzou glanced at Katsushiro and Rikichi. "Protect him," he said, then turned to face forward as the first of the Yakuza rushed forward with a yell.

Apparently, they'd gotten tired of waiting. The rest of the group poured out of the alley at the first man's heels, a group fifteen strong. In the moments before the first man reached him, Kyuuzou wondered how many men this yakuza group could really afford to lose. With perfect timing, Kyuuzou's katana blades flashed out.

The man's yell was abruptly cut off by a choking gurgling sound as his throat was simultaneously cut in an X-shape across the front. He dropped to his knees in front of the samurai, still alive, but drowning rapidly in his own blood. The sounds he was making were horrendous.

Kyuuzou's eyes travelled from face to face, his reddened blades still held out in front of him. "Who's next?" he asked the suddenly silent group.

Katsushiro had drawn his sword now, and stood with Rikichi between him and the wall. To leave his sword in the sheath might have implied weakness, and these men would descend on any hint of weakness like bandits on frightened peasants. His wrist screamed in protest, but his hand didn't waver in the least, and no hint of pain showed in his expression.

Kyuuzou heard Katsushiro draw his katana and ground his teeth with the effort not to order him to put it away. Instead, he focussed on the fourteen yakuza in front of him and took a deliberate step forward. The line wavered, but didn't break, the group glancing at each other as though doing another mental count and then refirming their grip on their weapons as they remembered that Kyuuzou WAS outnumbered fourteen-to-one.

Fine.

Kyuuzou leapt forward, his blades flashing out once more. Four more men fell, strangling on their own blood, and he was past them, skidding to a halt on the loose gravel of the road and turning to rush them from behind.

Katsushiro watched in awe as Kyuuzou cut through the Yakuza like a peasant harvesting rice. He's amazing, he thought, eyes straining to follow the movements that were too fast to see. Kambei was just as good a fighter, as proved by the thin scar on Kyuuzou's neck... but he wasn't nearly this fast, and certainly nowhere near as elegantly graceful. Kyuuzou was like a great hunter cat, all lethal stalk and pounce, flashing teeth and claws only at the last second.

A few of the men broke and ran in the face of that lethal force. Two of them apparently decided that Katsushiro looked like easier prey, and rushed him. He blocked the first swing easily, gritting his teeth as the blow jarred his sore wrist. Twisting in a lightning-fast move of his own, he disengaged and swept his sword along the backstroke, cutting at the man's unprotected torso.

His movements were slowed just enough by his injuries that the yakuza managed to leap out of the way in time, and then the second one was on him, pressing him hard back against Rikichi as he fought to keep his ground. Still Katsushiro refused to give in to the pain in his wrist, blocking and parrying, feinting and dodging in a deadly dance.

Kyuuzou cut down another four yakuza in a quick flash of blade, then rushed the two on Katsushiro. He blocked an attack with one katana as he rushed by the remaining yakuza, and just kept right on running.

One of them had just begun to turn when Kyuuzou's blade thrust through his Adam's apple, pinning him to the wall right over where Rikichi was cowering. The other turned in time to block one attack, and Kyuuzou, exchanging blows with the yakuza, was painfully aware that the others were rushing up behind him.

Finally he managed to wrench his katana free, the by-now-dead body thudding to the ground even as he buried the blade in his opponent's belly.

Without once looking at either Rikichi or Katsushiro, he turned again and waded back into the fray, just as the remaining yakuza reached him.

Katsushiro had hardly dared move while Kyuuzou was fighting the two in front of him, for fear of accidentally getting in the way of those deadly blades. Once Kyuuzou had turned back to the others, Katsushiro let out the breath he'd been holding and moved back into a defensive stance again, watching sharply in case any more of them broke free of Kyuuzou and tried for Katsushiro and Rikichi. He could already tell it wasn't going to happen again, though. Kyuuzou was just too strong.

The last man fell to the ground under Kyuuzou's blades, twisting and choking in his last agony. The blond had cut their throats to increase the intimidation factor, to show how accurately and completely he could give them a slow, agonizing death, but it hadn't seemed to matter that much. In all, only a few had run, the rest dying in the street.

He sheathed his swords and dabbed at a small cut on one cheek that wouldn't even scar as he turned back towards Katsushiro and the cowering Rikichi. "Let's get out of here, now," he said, then sprinted towards the edge of town.

Katsushiro sheathed his sword and took off after him, Rikichi close on his heels. The young samurai kept his hand on his hilt, darting his eyes back and forth as they ran to keep an eye out for any further attempts at an ambush, but they made it safely out of the city without further incident.

The moment they the town disappeared behind the horizon, Kyuuzou stopped. This time his hands and face were stained with blood, which was already drying and beginning to flake. One of those deadly hands flashed out and grabbed Katsushiro by the collar, then pushed and let go abruptly, forcing the younger samurai to back-pedal or fall.

"O-samurai-sama!" Rikichi gasped, but Kyuuzou utterly ignored him.

"What did I tell you?" he snapped, his voice utterly frigid, but his eyes blazing.

Katsushiro staggered and almost fell, but managed to keep his balance. His wounded leg was screaming almost as loud as his wrist now, but he shook it off. "If you think I'll stand there with my sword sheathed while enemies attack us, think again!" he snapped, fighting hysteria. Seeing those fighters, so like the ones who'd cornered him yesterday they might have been cousins, (and probably were, considering the way Yakuza worked,) dressed in the same uniforms... it had been like a nightmare repeat of what had happened in the alley. The thought of even trying to just stand there passively made him shake with fear. "You said not to draw my sword unless it was necessary, and I agreed... and it was necessary, damn it!"

"It was NOT necessary, until the attackers approached you," Kyuuzou replied, his voice dropping a few more degrees in temperature. "You made yourself more conspicuous and guaranteed being attacked. At the very least, you strained tendons that need to heal, and will NOT heal unless you heed me."

Katsushiro's temper flared in response to the ice in Kyuuzou's voice, and now fury was making him tremble as much as fear and delayed reaction to the attack. He's been through the same thing, how can he not understand? he thought in despair. I CAN'T just stand there without even drawing my weapon while THEY are that close!

With an effort he kept himself from snapping back, knowing he would only sound hysterical. Turning away, his shoulders tight with nearly unbearable tension, he said, "We've still got a long way to go. Might this unworthy one humbly suggest we start moving again before they decide to send another squad after us?"

Kyuuzou stared at him for a few moments, expressionless, then turned and started down the path without saying a word. He should trust me to protect him. He's unblooded and hysterical. How can he think he knows better than I do?

Katsushiro started after him, equally silent, and something about the look on his face apparently warned Rikichi not to question the brief spat between his samurai companions. Bastard, Katsushiro mentally spat at Kyuuzou, though the thought lacked some of the heat from only a moment before. What would you have had me do, stand there until after they came at me, when it might have been too late to draw? I barely managed to block that first blow as it was... if I hadn't had my sword drawn, I probably wouldn't have an arm, now.


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