DISCLAIMER: Not mine. No, really. Really. Stop calling.
AN1: This, friends, is an AU fic. The most important thing you need to remember is this: Korin never died. *firm nod* Aside from that, you'll most likely figure all else out on your own. After all, you're a bright reader, aren't you? Aaaaaaren't you? *pinches cheeks* Ah, and Korin's is thirteen-going-on-fourteen in this story, so do the rest of the math if you must. -_-;;
AN2: Dedicated to Purple Mouse, author of many excellent fanfics and my new favorite "characterization" of Nuriko. ^_~. Why dedicated to her? I'll tell you why. For reminding me that WRITING IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN FOR THE AUTHOR, DAMN IT!!! *smiles winningly* Dedicated, also, to Kaze-chan, who keeps the encouragement coming...and who is the first ever to build a shrine to ME! Bwahaha! *grin*
---
Another Opportunity For Sibling Bonding
by Ryuen
~*~*~
CHAPTER I: Damn it, Rokou!
---
"Damn it, Rokou!"
Otousan was...a little angry.
"I just don't understand how you could've been so careless! Honestly, Rokou! We went through this again and again and again--"
Bulging eyes, twitching purple veins, cheeks just starting to turn that lovely shade of scarlet...oh, yes. He was angry. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva and the sudden urge to run to Aniki's defense, I shifted a little on my stool, folded my hands on the table and waited. Something interesting was bound to come out of Aniki's mouth--I could sense it, even sitting all the way over here at the other end of the shop, sorting through handkerchiefs for mothholes. And, sure enough...
Rokou bent his knees in submission, clasped his hands together and looked like he was trying not to beg. "B-B-But, it wasn't my fault, Otousan! Not...not really! I-It was...it was...!"
Tousan's eyeybrows came together into a bushy black line. "Yessssssss?" A dangerous drawl. An even more dangerous glint in those dark eyes.
"It was the bandits' fault!" Rokou exclaimed at last. "Th-They tricked me, Tousan! Th-They pretended they were Guards, and then they...they..."
Tousan took a long step forward, towered over Rokou like the imperial palace over a shack of twigs. "Took all those VERY EXPENSIVE dresses that the WEALTHIEST and most INFLUENTIAL woman in all of the four COUNTRIES special-ordered from ME and ONLY ME almost six weeks ago that need to be shipped TODAY or else she won't PAY FOR THEM? Is THAT what happened, Rokou? IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED?!"
Rokou winced as Tousan's voice reached its pinnacle, shrank back a little more against the wall. Truthfully, I pitied Aniki more than I usually would've cared to admit. Blessed Suzaku, he wasn't exactly the strongest of the three of us as it was, and now here he was, standing alone in the sandstorm of Tousan's rage, no one to blame but bandits and himself? Poor Aniki. Poor dead, dead Aniki.
"WELL?" Tousan roared. "Answer me, boy. Is that right?"
Rokou brought his hands to his face, made a comical nod that brought his elbows up and down, up and down. "H-Hai...Otousan."
I held my breath--so did Rokou. We knew what was coming. This had all been nothing compared to what awaited us--to what awaited whatever poor souls were within hearing distance of the shop on this fine summer morning. Father's rages were seldom spare on the volume--or the language. I still remember that when I was littler, Okaasan would slap her hands over my ears and lead me out of the room--and sometimes out of the block--when Tousan ranted and raved at whichever one of his two sons he'd decided to be angry with that day. Of course, I'd had my own share of Tousan-rants, too--I was far from perfect. After all, what was I? A tomboy who felt more comfortable in her Niisama's vest and trousers than in her own dresses? A girl who had no interest in sewing, cooking, being dainty and pretty--a girl who would rather be out running around with her brothers than inside, sipping tea with her pinky floating in the air? No, I was far from perfect, and I'd received my fair share of fatherly--and motherly, for that matter--rages. But, still. Never. Never, never, never had I seen Tousan like this. Never had one of his children done something that actually merited overreaction like this--that actually merited a wild, ranting rage.
Somewhere beneath all that anger, Otousan was probably giddy with glee to finally be justified in one of these rants.
At last, it was time. Tousan opened his mouth--Rokou cowered a little more, and I tentatively brought my hands to my ears--and then he drew in a deep breath, raised a hand, and-- Abruptly, the door swung open, jingled its way towards the wall...and slammed into it with a crash that seemed to shake the whole shop.
Niisama winced, took a step into the room and bowed his head a bit sheepishly. "Gomen ne..."
The momentum of the upcoming rage must've been too much for Otousan. He spun on his middle son with bulging eyes, raised his hand a little higher and balled it into a fist. "RYUEN!" he bellowed. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SLAMMING THAT DOOR?"
Oddly enough, Niisama didn't seem all that surprised at the reaction. Then again, he had lived with Tousan longer than I had--maybe that made him more accustomed to these mood swings. But...still.
"Gomen ne, Tousan," he repeated, bowing his head and letting his hands clasp respectfully before him. "I wasn't thinking."
"Wasn't thinking--wasn't thinking!" Tousan laughed the high, nasty laugh I'd come to associate with extreme rage or insanity. Or both. "What is it with you boys and never THINKING!? Honestly, if I had a ryou for every time you or your brother didn't THINK, why I'd be richer than Heika-sama himself! Blessed Suzaku, Ryuen! You need to start THINKING about things before you DO them!"
And, that was when it hit me. //Damn. Niisama, you idiot hero, you. You WERE thinking when you came in here, weren't you?//
My gaze shifted to Rokou, standing there with eyes wide and hands still hovering protectively over his face. But, there was something new in his face, now--something like shock and astonishment and gratitude. Slowly, he was realizing that the brunt of this rage wasn't going to be on his shoulders, that he'd been saved again by his little brother.
//Mattaku, Niisama. Always the hero.//
The rant lasted for longer than I'd have thought it would, given the circumstances--and the fact that Tousan had to switch recipients at the last minute. But, it burned a lot less brighter than it would have if it'd been Rokou, and so despite myself, I was glad for the change. Nothing was worse than enduring one of Tousan's ENRAGED rants--Ryuen had spared us, and for that I was grateful. But, not grateful enough to ignore what he'd done. Again.
After Otousan finished up and set off for the tavern to cool down, I slid off my stool, stalked over to my dear violet-haired brother, and smacked him hard on the back of the head. I caught him square in the bun, felt one of the pins press into his scalp and hoped I hadn't hurt him. But, hey, no time for worrying. I had a tragic hero to yell at, after all.
"Niisama," I said sternly. My hands went to my hips--a habit I'd picked up from Okaasan, unfortunately, and one that I was finding it extremely difficult to rid myself of. "You did it--"
"Again," Ryuen finished with a sheepish smile. "I know. Gomen ne, Korin."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't you 'gomen ne' me."
His smile lifted...and, I knew then that it was over.
It always amazed me just how talented Niisama was at bleeding anger out of me--out of anyone, even Tousan sometimes. Dark eyebrows raised a little, widened the rosy violet of the eyes--lips lifted, made way for a row of straight white teeth that seemed to make his whole face glow. And, lo, all traces of anger--justified or not--melted away into nothingness, and Niisama had the upper hand again. Sometimes I wondered if he planned things that way, because it worked beautifully. One innocent, forgive-me-won't-you? smile, and all the weak-minded fools nearby were puddy in his hands.
But, hey, what was there to do about it? Nothing. So, I just smiled and gave Niisama one more obliging smack on the head. "Idiot," I offered affectionately. "One of these days, you're gonna do that self-sacrificing routine, and it's not gonna work out the way you think it will. You can only do that so many times before it hurts you, you know."
Niisama shrugged, and I watched the words flit in through that one delicate ear...and fly right out through the other one. Well, what was I expecting? Ryuen was a hopeless cause when it came to that self-sacrificial stuff. I frowned slightly, saw something new wash over his features. He was switching mental tracks, I realized, and what he was switching to was...
Ryuen turned, regarded our older brother with a solemn stare. "Rokou," he said. "Is what you told Tousan true?"
Aniki blanched. "W-What do you mean?"
"About the bandits." He took a small step forward, somehow managed to tower over Rokou without being taller than him first. It was pretty impressive. "Was it the truth? Did bandits really take the dresses?" Ryuen's fist clenched, and I watched the color bleed from Rokou's face. Younger brother or not, Aniki knew just how hard Niisama could hit when he wanted to--and, I'm sure that's what Ryuen was counting on.
"Y-Yes!" Rokou sputtered. "Yes, it's true!" And then, without warning, he burst into tears. I'd seen him cry before, of course--when we were littler, it was his favorite tactic for getting out of tight spots with Tousan and Kaasan. But, he was older now, and I knew that this was no manipulation trick--he was genuinely upset.
Rokou's words came in a flood of tear-soaked gasps. "It was AWFUL, Ryuen! Th-They came up behind me when I was bringing the cart over to the shop, a-and they said that they were Imperial Guardsmen, and that they needed to check the cart and make sure that it was safe, and I...I let them, and they pointed their swords at me to keep me back and that was when I recognized one of them from that wanted poster the Guards put up in the Square, but it was too late 'cause they had their swords out and I knew they woulda killed me if I said anything, so I just turned around and came back here...a-and now the dresses are gone and Otousan's going to lose all that money and hate me forever and--Ryuen, I don't know what to do to fix it!!" The tears came again, stronger this time, and I watched as Rokou raised his palms to his face to cover it from view.
Niisama moved foward only an instant later, took his older brother into his arms and held him tightly. "Daijobu," he murmured. I was surprised at the sudden change in his stance and temperament, but I suppose I shouldn't have been. Niisama was full of surprises...and, I'd never known him to be actually angry at anyone for more than a few seconds before the gentler side of his nature shone through, anyway. "Daijobu, Aniki." A pause. Rokou's tears began to dry, the sobs to quiet in his throat. Ryuen held him until he'd collected himself again, then finally took a small step back, smiled and gave Aniki a handkerchief to wipe the rest of his tears away.
"D-Domo," Aniki managed.
Ryuen let out a heavy breath, took a long step backwards and leaned up against the shop counter. "We have to get those dresses back." His voice was hard; solid with a certainty I found myself envying. His eyes softened a little. "With business like it is, Tousan needs the money from that old bag in Sailo, or he'll go...well, bankrupt."
I nodded sadly. "Probably have to sell the shop."
Niisama glanced at me, returned the nod. "Right. And, we can't let that happen." His expression hardened; his lips pursed in what I assumed was determination. "We have to get those dresses back. And fast."
Rokou sniffled again, wiped at the last of the wetness on his cheeks. "But, how can we do that? Those bandits have th--" And then, abruptly, it clicked in Aniki's head, and his eyes widened. "No. No way. Ryuen--"
"It's the only way, Aniki."
"But, they're BANDITS! They KILL people!"
"Not always," Niisama countered cheerfully. "Besides, how else are we gonna get out of this mess except by tracking those bastards down and stealing back those dresses?"
"You're INSANE!"
Ryuen shrugged. "Maybe. But, it's the only way. And anyway, you don't have to come. I can do this alo--"
I took a long step forward, folded my arms over my chest and cleared my throat.
"Korin and I can do this alone," Niisama amended with a smile. He turned back to Rokou, was all business again. "Now. Which way did the bandits go?"
Rokou frowned. "Which way did they go? They turned off into the woods at the end of the road, but... You're serious, aren't you, Ryuen? You're really gonna go after them."
"What else can we do, Aniki? Let Tousan lose the shop? You know what'd happen then--Kaasan would have to go back to work, and probably you and me and Korin would have to find jobs, too, and what then? We'd be stuck here in this town for the rest of our lives, Rokou. Do you want that? I don't. I'd rather face the bandits."
Aniki was beaten. I saw that, and I'm sure Rokou did, too, but it didn't stop him from getting off one last shot before fading into submission.
"If anything happens to you or Korin, Tousan and Kaasan will be worse off than they would be bankrupt."
Niisama froze as if he'd been struck.
I closed my eyes, pressed fingers over my eyes and tried to wish away the headache I knew was coming. //Great Suzaku, Aniki. You just had to bring Niisama's guilt complex into this...//
"N...Nothing's going to happen to Korin. Or me." The determination was gone from Niisama's voice, replaced with an uncertain little tremble that worked at his words, made them quiver in the air between us.
The unfamiliar taste of blood on his lips, Rokou struck again. "How do you know that? These guys are dangerous. Gods, Korin almost got killed just walking across the street that one time--what do you think's gonna happen if she goes up against bandits?"
I felt the anger bubbling within me, held back the punch I very much wanted to throw. "Rokou," I growled.
And lo, the guilt card worked its magic...and Ryuen's resolve wavered. "Maybe he's right," he said quietly. His eyes were large and frightened, reminding me of that time all those years ago, when he'd pushed me out of the way of that cart. He'd landed on top of me hard, knocked the wind from my lungs, and I remembered seeing those worried violet eyes above me as I gasped and choked for air.
[Korin? Korin, can you hear me? Are you all right? Korin, please--answer me! KORIN!]
Niisama was one of the stablest people I knew--always good at keeping himself in control, not worrying over things beyond his control...but, this was one area where he always, always faltered. That self-sacrificing nature of his had a bad habit of turning into a feeling of responsibility for EVERYONE around him, and because of that, everything bad that happened was somehow inevitably HIS FAULT. If I decided to step out in front of traffic, that was HIS FAULT. If the gods sent a comet crashing down into the middle of the shop and smashed it into a million pieces, it was HIS FAULT. If Rokou was an idiot and let a bunch of bandits steal the dresses all of us had been working on for the past month and a half, it was HIS FAULT, and thus all of his energy had to be funnelled into fixing it.
But, there were some things that even Ryuen couldn't fix. Death, unfortunately, was one of them, and I guess that scared him more than he'd have liked to admit.
"Korin," he began a little shakily. "Maybe...maybe you should stay here."
But, no, this was NOT going to work. I was NOT going to let this damned guilt thing be the end of my brother. He was NOT going alone. "And, let you go after those guys all by yourself?" I demanded. "That's insane."
"This whole THING is insane," Ryuen countered a bit irritably. "Why would bandits want to steal a bunch of dresses, anyway? There are a thousand other merchants in this city who have better stuff to steal. But no matter how insane it seems, they DID steal them, and we have to get them back."
I nodded. "That's right. WE have to get them back. You're not doing this alone, Ryuen. I don't care if I have to follow you from fifty meters back, I'm coming. Besides." I smiled, the beginnings of an evil, perfect plan starting to form in my mind. "What bandit would suspect two young girls walking alone through the woods?"
"Two...girls?" The confusion gave way after a few seconds, and I heard the gears clicking around in Ryuen's head, watched the smile trickle back onto his lips. "Two girls," he echoed. "Yeah. Yeah, that just might...work."
Rokou frowned. "What?"
But, Niisama wasn't listening. He turned, hurried to the merchandise-filled side of the shop and started picking through one of the racks, shifting the cloth with deft, expert fingers. Finally, he pulled back his hand, dragged with it a stylish burgundy dress with a crisscrossed neckline and pleated skirt. "This," he said. Then, he stretched up a hand, tugged the pins from his bun and let the hair tumble down over his shoulders. I was surprised at how long it had gotten--it reached all the way down to the middle of Ryuen's back, making it a little longer than my own. He grinned. "Think you can do something with this, Korin?"
I offered a tight grin, stepped forward and gave the flood of violet an experimental lift. "Of course. Neesama."
~*~
TO BE CONTINUED.
Author's Notes:
[1] This is a story idea I've been toying with for a few months. Originally, it was going to be a canon fic, centering around the last big adventure Nuriko, Korin, and Ryuen have before Korin's death...but, the perspective works better if Korin's older, so voila! An AU fic was born. -_-;; As for future characters, other members of the shichiseishi WILL be appearing...but I'll leave it to you to guess who. *grin*
[2] I AM going to write more of my other fics in the coming weeks! *firm nod* The next few days are filled with long stretches of time in which I have nothing to do but write-write-write, and so I'm going to do my best to start leading some of my longer fics towards completion. Tentatively, I'm planning on writing more of The Last Wish and The Man Beneath the Braid, but I may play around with the Choose Your Own Adventure story or A Fragile Light, too. Or, maybe Beachside. Or Clover and Lilacs. Maybe I'll flip a coin. Or...er...three coins. *sweatdrop*
[3] Comments and criticisms are, of course, welcome and appreciated.
[4] Void where prohibited. See your local retailer for details.
AN1: This, friends, is an AU fic. The most important thing you need to remember is this: Korin never died. *firm nod* Aside from that, you'll most likely figure all else out on your own. After all, you're a bright reader, aren't you? Aaaaaaren't you? *pinches cheeks* Ah, and Korin's is thirteen-going-on-fourteen in this story, so do the rest of the math if you must. -_-;;
AN2: Dedicated to Purple Mouse, author of many excellent fanfics and my new favorite "characterization" of Nuriko. ^_~. Why dedicated to her? I'll tell you why. For reminding me that WRITING IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN FOR THE AUTHOR, DAMN IT!!! *smiles winningly* Dedicated, also, to Kaze-chan, who keeps the encouragement coming...and who is the first ever to build a shrine to ME! Bwahaha! *grin*
---
Another Opportunity For Sibling Bonding
by Ryuen
~*~*~
CHAPTER I: Damn it, Rokou!
---
"Damn it, Rokou!"
Otousan was...a little angry.
"I just don't understand how you could've been so careless! Honestly, Rokou! We went through this again and again and again--"
Bulging eyes, twitching purple veins, cheeks just starting to turn that lovely shade of scarlet...oh, yes. He was angry. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva and the sudden urge to run to Aniki's defense, I shifted a little on my stool, folded my hands on the table and waited. Something interesting was bound to come out of Aniki's mouth--I could sense it, even sitting all the way over here at the other end of the shop, sorting through handkerchiefs for mothholes. And, sure enough...
Rokou bent his knees in submission, clasped his hands together and looked like he was trying not to beg. "B-B-But, it wasn't my fault, Otousan! Not...not really! I-It was...it was...!"
Tousan's eyeybrows came together into a bushy black line. "Yessssssss?" A dangerous drawl. An even more dangerous glint in those dark eyes.
"It was the bandits' fault!" Rokou exclaimed at last. "Th-They tricked me, Tousan! Th-They pretended they were Guards, and then they...they..."
Tousan took a long step forward, towered over Rokou like the imperial palace over a shack of twigs. "Took all those VERY EXPENSIVE dresses that the WEALTHIEST and most INFLUENTIAL woman in all of the four COUNTRIES special-ordered from ME and ONLY ME almost six weeks ago that need to be shipped TODAY or else she won't PAY FOR THEM? Is THAT what happened, Rokou? IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED?!"
Rokou winced as Tousan's voice reached its pinnacle, shrank back a little more against the wall. Truthfully, I pitied Aniki more than I usually would've cared to admit. Blessed Suzaku, he wasn't exactly the strongest of the three of us as it was, and now here he was, standing alone in the sandstorm of Tousan's rage, no one to blame but bandits and himself? Poor Aniki. Poor dead, dead Aniki.
"WELL?" Tousan roared. "Answer me, boy. Is that right?"
Rokou brought his hands to his face, made a comical nod that brought his elbows up and down, up and down. "H-Hai...Otousan."
I held my breath--so did Rokou. We knew what was coming. This had all been nothing compared to what awaited us--to what awaited whatever poor souls were within hearing distance of the shop on this fine summer morning. Father's rages were seldom spare on the volume--or the language. I still remember that when I was littler, Okaasan would slap her hands over my ears and lead me out of the room--and sometimes out of the block--when Tousan ranted and raved at whichever one of his two sons he'd decided to be angry with that day. Of course, I'd had my own share of Tousan-rants, too--I was far from perfect. After all, what was I? A tomboy who felt more comfortable in her Niisama's vest and trousers than in her own dresses? A girl who had no interest in sewing, cooking, being dainty and pretty--a girl who would rather be out running around with her brothers than inside, sipping tea with her pinky floating in the air? No, I was far from perfect, and I'd received my fair share of fatherly--and motherly, for that matter--rages. But, still. Never. Never, never, never had I seen Tousan like this. Never had one of his children done something that actually merited overreaction like this--that actually merited a wild, ranting rage.
Somewhere beneath all that anger, Otousan was probably giddy with glee to finally be justified in one of these rants.
At last, it was time. Tousan opened his mouth--Rokou cowered a little more, and I tentatively brought my hands to my ears--and then he drew in a deep breath, raised a hand, and-- Abruptly, the door swung open, jingled its way towards the wall...and slammed into it with a crash that seemed to shake the whole shop.
Niisama winced, took a step into the room and bowed his head a bit sheepishly. "Gomen ne..."
The momentum of the upcoming rage must've been too much for Otousan. He spun on his middle son with bulging eyes, raised his hand a little higher and balled it into a fist. "RYUEN!" he bellowed. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SLAMMING THAT DOOR?"
Oddly enough, Niisama didn't seem all that surprised at the reaction. Then again, he had lived with Tousan longer than I had--maybe that made him more accustomed to these mood swings. But...still.
"Gomen ne, Tousan," he repeated, bowing his head and letting his hands clasp respectfully before him. "I wasn't thinking."
"Wasn't thinking--wasn't thinking!" Tousan laughed the high, nasty laugh I'd come to associate with extreme rage or insanity. Or both. "What is it with you boys and never THINKING!? Honestly, if I had a ryou for every time you or your brother didn't THINK, why I'd be richer than Heika-sama himself! Blessed Suzaku, Ryuen! You need to start THINKING about things before you DO them!"
And, that was when it hit me. //Damn. Niisama, you idiot hero, you. You WERE thinking when you came in here, weren't you?//
My gaze shifted to Rokou, standing there with eyes wide and hands still hovering protectively over his face. But, there was something new in his face, now--something like shock and astonishment and gratitude. Slowly, he was realizing that the brunt of this rage wasn't going to be on his shoulders, that he'd been saved again by his little brother.
//Mattaku, Niisama. Always the hero.//
The rant lasted for longer than I'd have thought it would, given the circumstances--and the fact that Tousan had to switch recipients at the last minute. But, it burned a lot less brighter than it would have if it'd been Rokou, and so despite myself, I was glad for the change. Nothing was worse than enduring one of Tousan's ENRAGED rants--Ryuen had spared us, and for that I was grateful. But, not grateful enough to ignore what he'd done. Again.
After Otousan finished up and set off for the tavern to cool down, I slid off my stool, stalked over to my dear violet-haired brother, and smacked him hard on the back of the head. I caught him square in the bun, felt one of the pins press into his scalp and hoped I hadn't hurt him. But, hey, no time for worrying. I had a tragic hero to yell at, after all.
"Niisama," I said sternly. My hands went to my hips--a habit I'd picked up from Okaasan, unfortunately, and one that I was finding it extremely difficult to rid myself of. "You did it--"
"Again," Ryuen finished with a sheepish smile. "I know. Gomen ne, Korin."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't you 'gomen ne' me."
His smile lifted...and, I knew then that it was over.
It always amazed me just how talented Niisama was at bleeding anger out of me--out of anyone, even Tousan sometimes. Dark eyebrows raised a little, widened the rosy violet of the eyes--lips lifted, made way for a row of straight white teeth that seemed to make his whole face glow. And, lo, all traces of anger--justified or not--melted away into nothingness, and Niisama had the upper hand again. Sometimes I wondered if he planned things that way, because it worked beautifully. One innocent, forgive-me-won't-you? smile, and all the weak-minded fools nearby were puddy in his hands.
But, hey, what was there to do about it? Nothing. So, I just smiled and gave Niisama one more obliging smack on the head. "Idiot," I offered affectionately. "One of these days, you're gonna do that self-sacrificing routine, and it's not gonna work out the way you think it will. You can only do that so many times before it hurts you, you know."
Niisama shrugged, and I watched the words flit in through that one delicate ear...and fly right out through the other one. Well, what was I expecting? Ryuen was a hopeless cause when it came to that self-sacrificial stuff. I frowned slightly, saw something new wash over his features. He was switching mental tracks, I realized, and what he was switching to was...
Ryuen turned, regarded our older brother with a solemn stare. "Rokou," he said. "Is what you told Tousan true?"
Aniki blanched. "W-What do you mean?"
"About the bandits." He took a small step forward, somehow managed to tower over Rokou without being taller than him first. It was pretty impressive. "Was it the truth? Did bandits really take the dresses?" Ryuen's fist clenched, and I watched the color bleed from Rokou's face. Younger brother or not, Aniki knew just how hard Niisama could hit when he wanted to--and, I'm sure that's what Ryuen was counting on.
"Y-Yes!" Rokou sputtered. "Yes, it's true!" And then, without warning, he burst into tears. I'd seen him cry before, of course--when we were littler, it was his favorite tactic for getting out of tight spots with Tousan and Kaasan. But, he was older now, and I knew that this was no manipulation trick--he was genuinely upset.
Rokou's words came in a flood of tear-soaked gasps. "It was AWFUL, Ryuen! Th-They came up behind me when I was bringing the cart over to the shop, a-and they said that they were Imperial Guardsmen, and that they needed to check the cart and make sure that it was safe, and I...I let them, and they pointed their swords at me to keep me back and that was when I recognized one of them from that wanted poster the Guards put up in the Square, but it was too late 'cause they had their swords out and I knew they woulda killed me if I said anything, so I just turned around and came back here...a-and now the dresses are gone and Otousan's going to lose all that money and hate me forever and--Ryuen, I don't know what to do to fix it!!" The tears came again, stronger this time, and I watched as Rokou raised his palms to his face to cover it from view.
Niisama moved foward only an instant later, took his older brother into his arms and held him tightly. "Daijobu," he murmured. I was surprised at the sudden change in his stance and temperament, but I suppose I shouldn't have been. Niisama was full of surprises...and, I'd never known him to be actually angry at anyone for more than a few seconds before the gentler side of his nature shone through, anyway. "Daijobu, Aniki." A pause. Rokou's tears began to dry, the sobs to quiet in his throat. Ryuen held him until he'd collected himself again, then finally took a small step back, smiled and gave Aniki a handkerchief to wipe the rest of his tears away.
"D-Domo," Aniki managed.
Ryuen let out a heavy breath, took a long step backwards and leaned up against the shop counter. "We have to get those dresses back." His voice was hard; solid with a certainty I found myself envying. His eyes softened a little. "With business like it is, Tousan needs the money from that old bag in Sailo, or he'll go...well, bankrupt."
I nodded sadly. "Probably have to sell the shop."
Niisama glanced at me, returned the nod. "Right. And, we can't let that happen." His expression hardened; his lips pursed in what I assumed was determination. "We have to get those dresses back. And fast."
Rokou sniffled again, wiped at the last of the wetness on his cheeks. "But, how can we do that? Those bandits have th--" And then, abruptly, it clicked in Aniki's head, and his eyes widened. "No. No way. Ryuen--"
"It's the only way, Aniki."
"But, they're BANDITS! They KILL people!"
"Not always," Niisama countered cheerfully. "Besides, how else are we gonna get out of this mess except by tracking those bastards down and stealing back those dresses?"
"You're INSANE!"
Ryuen shrugged. "Maybe. But, it's the only way. And anyway, you don't have to come. I can do this alo--"
I took a long step forward, folded my arms over my chest and cleared my throat.
"Korin and I can do this alone," Niisama amended with a smile. He turned back to Rokou, was all business again. "Now. Which way did the bandits go?"
Rokou frowned. "Which way did they go? They turned off into the woods at the end of the road, but... You're serious, aren't you, Ryuen? You're really gonna go after them."
"What else can we do, Aniki? Let Tousan lose the shop? You know what'd happen then--Kaasan would have to go back to work, and probably you and me and Korin would have to find jobs, too, and what then? We'd be stuck here in this town for the rest of our lives, Rokou. Do you want that? I don't. I'd rather face the bandits."
Aniki was beaten. I saw that, and I'm sure Rokou did, too, but it didn't stop him from getting off one last shot before fading into submission.
"If anything happens to you or Korin, Tousan and Kaasan will be worse off than they would be bankrupt."
Niisama froze as if he'd been struck.
I closed my eyes, pressed fingers over my eyes and tried to wish away the headache I knew was coming. //Great Suzaku, Aniki. You just had to bring Niisama's guilt complex into this...//
"N...Nothing's going to happen to Korin. Or me." The determination was gone from Niisama's voice, replaced with an uncertain little tremble that worked at his words, made them quiver in the air between us.
The unfamiliar taste of blood on his lips, Rokou struck again. "How do you know that? These guys are dangerous. Gods, Korin almost got killed just walking across the street that one time--what do you think's gonna happen if she goes up against bandits?"
I felt the anger bubbling within me, held back the punch I very much wanted to throw. "Rokou," I growled.
And lo, the guilt card worked its magic...and Ryuen's resolve wavered. "Maybe he's right," he said quietly. His eyes were large and frightened, reminding me of that time all those years ago, when he'd pushed me out of the way of that cart. He'd landed on top of me hard, knocked the wind from my lungs, and I remembered seeing those worried violet eyes above me as I gasped and choked for air.
[Korin? Korin, can you hear me? Are you all right? Korin, please--answer me! KORIN!]
Niisama was one of the stablest people I knew--always good at keeping himself in control, not worrying over things beyond his control...but, this was one area where he always, always faltered. That self-sacrificing nature of his had a bad habit of turning into a feeling of responsibility for EVERYONE around him, and because of that, everything bad that happened was somehow inevitably HIS FAULT. If I decided to step out in front of traffic, that was HIS FAULT. If the gods sent a comet crashing down into the middle of the shop and smashed it into a million pieces, it was HIS FAULT. If Rokou was an idiot and let a bunch of bandits steal the dresses all of us had been working on for the past month and a half, it was HIS FAULT, and thus all of his energy had to be funnelled into fixing it.
But, there were some things that even Ryuen couldn't fix. Death, unfortunately, was one of them, and I guess that scared him more than he'd have liked to admit.
"Korin," he began a little shakily. "Maybe...maybe you should stay here."
But, no, this was NOT going to work. I was NOT going to let this damned guilt thing be the end of my brother. He was NOT going alone. "And, let you go after those guys all by yourself?" I demanded. "That's insane."
"This whole THING is insane," Ryuen countered a bit irritably. "Why would bandits want to steal a bunch of dresses, anyway? There are a thousand other merchants in this city who have better stuff to steal. But no matter how insane it seems, they DID steal them, and we have to get them back."
I nodded. "That's right. WE have to get them back. You're not doing this alone, Ryuen. I don't care if I have to follow you from fifty meters back, I'm coming. Besides." I smiled, the beginnings of an evil, perfect plan starting to form in my mind. "What bandit would suspect two young girls walking alone through the woods?"
"Two...girls?" The confusion gave way after a few seconds, and I heard the gears clicking around in Ryuen's head, watched the smile trickle back onto his lips. "Two girls," he echoed. "Yeah. Yeah, that just might...work."
Rokou frowned. "What?"
But, Niisama wasn't listening. He turned, hurried to the merchandise-filled side of the shop and started picking through one of the racks, shifting the cloth with deft, expert fingers. Finally, he pulled back his hand, dragged with it a stylish burgundy dress with a crisscrossed neckline and pleated skirt. "This," he said. Then, he stretched up a hand, tugged the pins from his bun and let the hair tumble down over his shoulders. I was surprised at how long it had gotten--it reached all the way down to the middle of Ryuen's back, making it a little longer than my own. He grinned. "Think you can do something with this, Korin?"
I offered a tight grin, stepped forward and gave the flood of violet an experimental lift. "Of course. Neesama."
~*~
TO BE CONTINUED.
Author's Notes:
[1] This is a story idea I've been toying with for a few months. Originally, it was going to be a canon fic, centering around the last big adventure Nuriko, Korin, and Ryuen have before Korin's death...but, the perspective works better if Korin's older, so voila! An AU fic was born. -_-;; As for future characters, other members of the shichiseishi WILL be appearing...but I'll leave it to you to guess who. *grin*
[2] I AM going to write more of my other fics in the coming weeks! *firm nod* The next few days are filled with long stretches of time in which I have nothing to do but write-write-write, and so I'm going to do my best to start leading some of my longer fics towards completion. Tentatively, I'm planning on writing more of The Last Wish and The Man Beneath the Braid, but I may play around with the Choose Your Own Adventure story or A Fragile Light, too. Or, maybe Beachside. Or Clover and Lilacs. Maybe I'll flip a coin. Or...er...three coins. *sweatdrop*
[3] Comments and criticisms are, of course, welcome and appreciated.
[4] Void where prohibited. See your local retailer for details.