Again the same:

Story by me, written in Polish language

Translated by irreplaceable Clio S.S.

My never ending gratitude for her, again

I'm looking forward for any reviews or feedback and I'm sure she would appreciate it as well, so please, left a word of commentary after reading…?

Thanks

A.

The previous time

"We cannot keep him."

The skies collapsed. Mountains turned to dust, and lakes overflowed onto the deserts. Sanada Yukimura's world tumbled with a crush, and his big brown eyes slowly filled with tears. He nodded, trying to maintain the faithful, obedient and uncritical bow at any cost; the murmur of consent slurred into the despairing sob.

"O-ooyaaaakataaaa samaaaaaa..."

The Tiger of Kai groaned; his horns fell.

"But we really cannot keep him!"

Ten years old Tiger's Cub, curled by his general-and-master's knees, tried to hide his grief as brave as inefficiently. The boy's shaggy head kept hitting against the Tiger's leg in the humble bows, the tears kept falling like the pearls, and small overactive fingers kept plucking woefully at the end of pigtail Sasuke used to plait every morning, finishing with a sash - not a ribbon, by no meaning - patterned with crest of Kai. Inwardly, Takeda Shingen cursed his uncompromising explicitness of a soldier. He always forgot he shouldn't force all the cruel reality of life straight into that troubled head of a child. He was yet but a sensitive kitty, after all, and it was all up to Shingen that he wouldn't lose this sensitivity before his time, not to mention another valuable attributes of soul and body. Unfortunately, the harsh frankness was never a proper tool to breed a sensitive and invincible warrior from the sensitive child.

Yukimura sobbed.

Desperately, Shingen raised his arms to the heavens in the silent prayer for strength. How the hell could he tell it in a different way?

"We shouldn't keep him..."

Yukimura sniffed, piteously sucking at the end of the pigtail. Shingen covered his eyes with the hands. He had to be tough. Like a rock. A big, edgy rock.

Yukimura looked up. Faithfully and tearfully.

"Oyakataaaaaa-samaaaaa..."

"Yukimuraaaaaa..."

The skies perhaps didn't collapsed, but the Tiger of Kai did for sure: he fell to his knees by his protégée and took him into his arms. Boy blubbered unhappily in the fluffy tiger skin on the chest of the general, and Shingen bawled equally eagerly into Yukimura's braid, rather overused today.

"We really cannot keep him!" he repeated hopelessly.

A muffled sob.

"Never...?"

"We. Cannot. Keep. Him."

'Never' must have sounded clearly enough in it, right...? For pity's sake! Frantically, Takeda Shingen looked around for any hint, but, wherever his gaze fell, he met with, it seemed, a silent and sombre reproach. Oh no, no, no. The Tiger of Kai wouldn't bend under pressure. The Tiger of Kai wouldn't...

The small fingers pulled the leg of his pants.

"Never?"

"Why?" Shingen threw in carefully.

The brown funny eye flashed right away. "Because... If I were very good tomorrooow... And the day after tomorrow, I would be good tooooo..." the boy was speculating.

"Then...?" Shingen groaned. He really didn't want to know. Because he had to refuse anyway. Because he had to be tough like a rock. And he didn't like it at all. Oh, how he didn't like it...

"Then we could keep him the day after tomorrow!" Yukimura's face beamed with satisfaction. Takeda Shingen grabbed his horns and pulled the helmet down onto his eyes. He didn't want to look.

"We won't be able to keep him the day after tomorrow either."

Silence.

"Won't we...?"

"We will never keep him!" Takeda spat out the most absolute refusal and hide in his tiger's skin along with the nose, shutting himself to any sound from outside. He bore up like this for a really long while, but his iron will of a general didn't tolerate the cowardly evasions. Especially in himself. Bravely, Shingen reached to the tiger's helmet with a shaky finger and uncovered his eyes.

"Oyakata-samaaaa..."

Oh God. It was worse he'd imagined.

"Oyakata-samaaaa..."

Yukimura kept pulling at the leather pants and looking at his master with boundless love and devotion.

"Oyakata-samaaaa..."

The kid simply hadn't taken it. How could he now...

"Oyakata-samaaaa..."

"We cannot keep him!"

"Oyakata-sama! You can do everything! Everything you want!"

Takeda Shingen let out a hopeless groan. The plump bundle at his feet radiated the belief in miracles and hope for a better tomorrow.

"We. Cannot. Keep. Him."

"You kept me, Oyakata-sama!" the boy reminded him cleverly. Shingen banged his head against his own knees. It didn't help.

"But him, we cannot."

Yukimura's face fell in a flash, just as if the Tiger of Kai had slashed him with the claws. The Tiger felt as it he had done it, himself, which wasn't pleasant at all.

"Nooo-o-o?"

Shingen glanced in rather unfriendly way at the western part of the camp. An object of Sanada Yukimura's latest ardent love was sitting there merrily on the pile of saddles, his skinny legs dangling as he was occasionally dealing with Sarutobi's distrustful teasers, as the vigilant boy kept staying close and blocking his view over the camp. Who was this vagabond in the first place? He sat there like an eagle in the nest or some winged demon over his realm, and watched the soldiers of Takada move the tents. He'd put those damned ideas in Yukimura's head. It was good that Sasuke was keeping an eye on him. The best would be to get Yukimura occupied with something else and take this vagrant to whence he'd come.

Which meant... the forest?

The Tiger of Kai kept observing the stranger with hostility. Hakama - dark blue and rugged; hair - light brown and hanging down to the nose; elbows - skinny and bruised; knees - together, as innocently as provocatively. The lad couldn't be much older than Yukimura, probably about Sasuke's age. His thin arms were uptight, the chin proudly up, and forelock effectively dishevelled over most of the face. He sat on that saddle barely with a cheek, yet he seemed a competent fellow. He didn't have any sword nor a stick, at least not when Yukimura had pulled him out of the bushes and wished to have him on his own. Sasuke, however, had managed to take a good look at the boy - as close and scrupulous as the one the boy had taken at him - and whispered his general that the stranger had knuckles bruised not necessarily by the scythe and rake, and some dressings neatly set on his face and shoulder. Shingen smiled to himself. Sarutobi would be scolded again by the commander of ninja squad for constant prying into everything around. But, if the lad had enough time to tie Yukimura ribbons - that was, thongs – every morning and to practice ubiquity, the Tiger himself didn't intend to hold it against him. If only Sasuke took this vagrant at the head and got rid of him somehow! Unfortunately, Sasuke wasn't so perceptive yet and now, so as the stranger had aroused his interest, he tried to loosen his tongue or whatever there was to loosen instead of trying to guess at his general's silent wish. Meanwhile, Yukimura was puffing so pitifully that the Tiger of Kai began to have enough of it all.

"Oyakata-samaaaaa..."

"No!"

The stranger, on his part, did seem to guess that the patience of the Lord of Kai was running low. He jumped down onto the grass, politely eluding Sasuke's casual pat as the boy, more or less discreetly, tried to penetrate the space under the light-brown fringe. He raised the fingers to his lips and whistled sharply.

Yukimura jumped to his feet, swinging his arms desperately.

"Oyakata-sama!"

"Yukimura!"

"I'll be right back!"

"Yukimura! Come here at once!"

"I'll be right back!"

"Yukimura!"

"Oyakata-sama!"

The Tiger of Kai punched at the grass, while Sanada Yukimura rushed to his new friend, occasionally tripping over his own feet and waving with his pigtail.

"Ah, Sanada-no-danna! We were just talking with... Ai, I forgot the name...?" Sasuke quickly took the chance. Puzzled, Yukimura rubbed his forehead and shook his head - obviously, he didn't remember either. Or, more likely, he simply hadn't been interested in the first place. On the contrary, Sarutobi Sasuke had taken much interest in this ruffled stranger. The young scout's instincts - first-rate, contrary to the very unfair opinion of the leader of Tiger's ninja - convinced him that specimens of this kind weren't grown randomly in the forest. No, he rather made one think of a crop well-thought-out, robust and exuberant.

"Forgot a name...?" Sasuke rushed him.

The stranger shrugged lightly. A cheeky smile glimpsed from under the mop - but no eye. Well, perhaps on the left, a bit. "You should eat more turnip," the lad instructed Sasuke. "Turnip improves memory pretty well. And cures other ailments pretty well, too..."

Sarutobi Sasuke bristled up to the tips of his hair. "We, soldiers of Kai, eat the chive. And we have no ailments!"

"Oh, yes." The stranger smiled gently. "I've heard chive makes people pretty healthy..." He cast a glance at Sasuke's figure, "and green..."

Sasuke puffed up even more. "You must have heard such theories in Aki...?" he didn't cease intriguing.

"I might have," the other agreed. "But I might have not...?"

Silence.

Fire in his dark eyes, Yukimura stared at the slender silhouette of the stranger. The boy was older and more... well, everything. Definitely more ruffled. The sensitive heart of the Tiger's Cub realized at once that the other boy had no-one who would offer a basic support to him, say older brother, like Sasuke was to Yukimura, who could put his hair into pigtail. Or, rather, ponytail, yes. The boy was older, almost grown-up, and the ponytail would suit him better. If Oyakata-sama agreed to keep him, Sasuke would tie his hair in the ponytail!

Oh.

Sasuke regarded the stranger in the way he never regarded Yukimura, and it became clear he didn't even think of tying the boy anything. Especially the ponytail. And stranger gave it to understand very obviously that he wasn't going to be tied anything.

Never.

Yukimura's face fell. The boy glanced at him from under the fringe and absently patted him on the dark head.

"I have to go," he declared calmly.

"Alreadyyy...?" Yukimura was sad.

"It's almost time for lunch," the other reminded.

"Lunch!" the Tiger's Cub beamed like a shaggy lantern. He was already very, very hungry, and, if they were served a lettuce today, Sasuke would snitch one leaf and teach Yukimura how to make the hammocks for the chive dwarfs. Haah!

"Eat with us!"

"Another time," the other replied firmly, patting Yukimura again. His smile was crooked and hooked like a crescent moon. "Next time."

"For sure?" Takeda's kitty inquired, already relieved.

"Sure." The other nodded seriously. "I promise."

Sasuke flinched, feeling a chill running down his spine, as if he was scratched by a claw of a spirit of any other dragon. Or, as if the stranger was talking with a genuine confidence.

"Well." The last pat. "Take care, young Tiger. Run to your master."

Yukimura wildly waved his hands in a gesture of cheerful goodbye - only until next time! - and ran back, leaping like a real kitty. Shingen observed askance as the stranger made ready to leave. Would he say anything...? O-ho. He looked through that mane of him at the Lord of Kai, bowed - in a very formal and respectful way - then turned away, tucked the thumbs behind the sash and left to the forest.

The next moment Sasuke was crawling behind him, hid in the thicket.

Yukimura reached Shingen and plumped himself down next to his knees. "Can we keep him next time?" he piped up endearingly.

Tiger frowned menacingly. "We will never keep him," he reminded.

"Okay," Yukimura's capitulation was surprisingly quick. Then he cunningly looked up from under the forelock. "And what about keeping a kitty...?"

Takeda Shingen closed his eyes. It was time already, definitely that time in Yukimura's life. It was the last time when the Tiger of Kai had let his Cub to the forest unarmed. If they gave the lad some blades - katana, spears, pikes - he would quickly get the healthy habit of sticking them in the back of any delinquent instead of bringing him home for lunch.

"I'll have a kitty! Haaah!" Yukimura bragged to Sasuke, who had just popped out of the grass nearby.

"Eeer?" the young scout was utterly surprised as he remembered well the general's repeated statements against keeping any fur animals anywhere except the stables. And they weren't going to return to the stables until autumn, were they?

"But I'll have a kitty! Hah! Oyakata-sama! Tell him we'll have a cat!"

"Alright, alright..." Shingen absently tousled the boy's dark head. The kid dealt pretty well with the initial katana training, but the Tiger himself would prefer to have him fight with some longer staff. Hmmmm...

"Alright... WHAT?"

"Will we have the dwarfs for the lunch? Will we?" Yukimura bounced, leading Sasuke to the kitchen tent.

The young man rubbed his forehead, nodding doubtfully. "Are you sure it's a good idea, Oyakata-sama...? Eeeehm... A kitty?"

"Kitty, kitty! I'll have a kitty!" the boy was happy.

Takeda Shingen groaned and tucked his head into shoulders. Did he deserved... Ah! "Sarutobi!" he called after the boys. "Where has that vagrant gone?"

Sasuke looked over his shoulder, sulking. "Gentlemen returned from the scouting," he pointed at the group of older soldiers, "and told me not to, let me quote, play a grass ninja. So I came back and don't play any more. And the vagrant ran away."

"You can play with me! And a kitty!" Yukimura consoled him quickly.

"Yeah, why not?" Sasuke smiled at his younger companion. "But do we have a kitty?"

"It's in my tent!" Yukimura blurted out and then covered his mouth with both his hands.

"Well, well," Sasuke laughed, while Takeda Shingen rested his head on his knees and then stayed like this.

Oh Goooood...


The forest rustled and crunched in a friendly way as the slender teenager walked northward, whistling. He wasn't that surprised when strong veiny hand shot out from behind the trunk and held him back.

"You were right... As usually..." the boy summed up lightly. "He wasn't really in position to take him home."

Somewhat older man of a serious face appeared from behind the tree. He wore tight leather vest and two swords by his belt. He didn't even bother to comment, only took his younger companion by the neck, as if wanting to be sure he would never again sneak near the tents of another army. He raised one brow.

"Now, now." The boy shrugged, guessing the other's unspoken thoughts. "I just got an idea, okay? Big deal. I just went there. And came back already, yeah."

The other dark brow went up.

"Why, the kid has something about him. Only a shrimp, but defiant and glib like a sprite. A cunning imp! In some years he will be brawn! He will grow pretty nice on their chive!"

The eyebrows and eyelashes fell with an amusement.

"Yeah, their camp is first-class. But I'd rather not eat the chive. I don't want to turn green!" the boy laughed, and his light-brown forelock swayed.

His companion nodded absently, then suddenly held him back and pressed to the trunk again.

"Whoooo..."

The skilled fingers delicately checked the dressing on the right eye, hid deep under the overlong hair. The hand gently patted the boy's cheek. The serious lips set a bit more tight.

This one, he really had to comment on.

"After lunch we're going to cut your hair."

"Heeeey!" the boy bristled up like a fighting cock. "Why? What for? Besides! They're pretty good! You've cut them only just!"

"Last winter..."

"The winter can be back here any time! I have to grow them to keep myself warm!" he pointed out triumphantly.

A slow nod.

"Takeda's Cub has already had a bad influence on you..."

"Now, now!" The boy shrugged defiantly. "He grows his hair, you see? They let him!"

Silence.

The man suddenly let go of him and patted him on the shoulder amicably.

"Alright..."

"Eh? What?" the young one inquired suspiciously.

"Well." The hand waved in an evasive way. "The dressing has to be clean... We can't have it sweat all the time under the fringe..."

"Eh?"

"After lunch we'll tie your hair in ponytail."

"WHAT?"

"We'll tie a ribbon, too. Or two, yeah. We'll have the sign of Dragon in your hair, and..." the other went on, fancying over boy's hairstyle one after another.

Silence.

"Before the lunch."

"Hmm?" the other man was surprised now, for a change.

"You will cut my hair before the lunch. Or, better, cut them right away, there's no use to delay it!" The boy sat down on the nearest stump and bowed his head as if before the axe. "And give my katana back. What were you doing with them?"

"You wanted yourself to go hunting cats unarmed..." the other reminded him.

"Huh. It was the last time I went off unarmed! I'll get some swords more and have five altogether. Or six. Then I'll be able to defend myself if the bad people assault me and try to violate my personal space!"

"But please defend yourself." The warrior took out two swords and returned them to their owner. The boy grabbed katana eagerly, and then his face fell along with the rest of him.

"Tell me when you're done. I don't want to look at it," he said painfully.

"I always look. I'll do it properly."

"You're so boring. Why is it that you always do everything properly? And how come you knew I shouldn't take in this kitty?"

"He has home and doesn't need to be taken in. And now you know where to find him next time."

"Haah!" the boy lived up. "You just see how I'll find him next time! Haaah! Come on, don't handle me like a kid. They will grow again, somehow. Here, you can cut them up to here."

"I appreciate your kind authority, my lord..."

"And after lunch we will look out four swords for me."

"You sure..."

"Cool you agreed. Yeah."

"Cool..."

the end