A/N: First-ever Samurai 7 fanfiction, so any and all constructive crit is welcome. Set three years after Episode 25, standard warnings apply: yaoi, het, violence, spoilers, "i-see-dead-ppl" syndrome, threesome. Warnings will be updated as the fic progresses.

Through Other Eyes

Chapter One: The Living

It was cold at night in the desert.

But that didn't stop them from coming to see him. It never did.

Tenmon sighed and pushed aside the burlap covering the entrance to his makeshift tent, holding it back so the girl could enter. Then he convinced her to sit down, because her current setting seemed to be stuck on "grovel, whimper, beg for help", and went about setting up his water-bowl as she offered him various small but valuable personal possessions.

She was some merchant's daughter, of low enough standing that she could get out of the city for a few hours to come see him, but not so low that she could escape an arranged marriage to a much older nobleman who'd used up three young wives already.

She wasn't an angel; she was spoiled and a little superficial, Tenmon knew that, but he didn't care. All he could feel for her now was pity; all he wanted to give her was some hope. So he waved away her jewel-filled hands.

"Do you have any rice balls?"

She blinked at the request, then scuttled out of the tent and held a whispered conversation with her maid. Moments later, she came back with not only her own bento, but that of her maid as well. Tenmon politely removed the simplest fare, the onigiri and warm miso, and gave the rest back. She watched him with increasing worry.

"I-is that enough?"

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"Don't you want the sukiyaki—"

"I'd rather not. If you would, please?"

She shut her mouth instantly, taking in with wide eyes how he crossed his legs and held the shallow water-bowl in his hands. No chanting, no props, he just shut his eyes and furrowed his brow—and opened them again a minute later, although to him it had felt like hours had passed.

"The man you've been betrothed to…in three weeks, he will be assassinated by a rival's bodyguard, and after that, they will discover he has been embezzling funds from the city government to further his own pursuits. From there, your father will be reluctant to betroth you to anyone else; you and your mother will have more of a say in who you marry."

Tenmon listened to her tearful thanks, and watched her flee the tent with the remainder of her bento in hand, and felt only relief. His prices were meager, but if he had made one more future happier, that was gift enough.

Then the vision struck him and he fell forward, the rice balls coming apart as they hit the dirt floor of the tent.

"You waited three months to tell me?"

"Well, I wanted to be certain," Yukino replied comfortably. It wasn't the most effective answer, but then, she was enjoying the gobsmacked look on her normally unflappable lover's face. "Don't you dare drop that dish, dear, it's worth more than most of my kimono."

Shichiroji looked from Yukino to the plate in his hand, then back, as if he were seeing both for the first time. Then he put the object down, went to her, and embraced her gently.

"I'm not made of china, Momotaro, I won't break like a plate."

"Well, it never hurts to be careful," Shichiroji murmured into her hair. "I guess this means I'll be taking over most of the chores for the next half a year or so..."

"That'd be nice, but definitely not necessary," Yukino chuckled. "I still feel fine. No real illness, no swelling."

"I'm glad." The warmth in her man's voice made Yukino hold on tighter than before to his arm. "Although..."

"Hm?"

"What should we tell Kanbei?"

"Wow, that much again? I bet the groupie's the fattest ghost ever by now, Komachi-chan."

"Heyyyy, Okara-chan, be a little more respectful of your Mikumari!" Komachi chided with no real heat as she pressed a double helping of rice into a mountain in the bowl. Okara's snicker made her stick out her tongue. "Anyway, Nunky's probably doing a lot of things in the afterlife, so his spirit needs lots of sustenance. Right, neesama?"

Kirara, former Mikumari and now the shrine priestess with the passing of their grandmother last autumn, looked up from her book with a start. "Hm? I'm sorry, Komachi, I wasn't paying attention..."

"Zoning out again, obaasama?" Okara teased, her black eyes gleaming. "Well, it's a time of year to be nostalgic, after all...for a certain samurai, maybe?"

"For a certain seven samurai, Okara," Kirara said firmly, ignoring the 'obaasama' poke. Although she'd abdicated her position and her pendant to Komachi, she hadn't abandoned any of her responsibilities, in fact with their grandmother's death she'd assumed even more, as the villagers now looked to her as the voice of "young wisdom" from the shrine. It was tough going sometimes, that and helping Komachi learn all her duties, but it had one advantage; nobody ever gave Kirara the usual line for girls her age, "So when are you going to find some nice young man and settle down?" She just didn't have the time.

Or the inclination, come to think of it. The only two candidates she'd ever considered—and even then it had been so far beyond "good husband material" it almost made her cry—had left three years past, never to return.

"In any case, neesama, I'm saving the rice up for tomorrow...do we have some seasoning? I think Heihachi-dono and Gorobei-dono would like seasoning."

Kirara smiled and shelved her book. As lonely as her heart felt sometimes, she couldn't deny the way the village had blossomed after that terrible time of carnage. The harvests were uniformly good, and because they kept everything except a small amount for emergency tribute, they ate well, the children and young people were growing strong and tall, and the adults were more contented and calmer. On top of that, the confidence the menfolk had gained from their combat training had wrought a considerable change in their attitudes; they didn't panic or lash out anymore at new ideas or strangers.

And it was slow going, but she'd run across Rikichi and Sanae sitting quietly together, his arm slung over her shoulders, her body pressed firmly against his. No words, and it was still hard for them both after years of separation and brainwashing on Sanae's part, but they were getting there, and it encouraged Kirara to no end.

And we have all of you to thank for it.

"Neesama?"

Kirara turned to the expectant Komachi. "I'm sure we have some around. Let's go find it, you two."

Tenmon hit his head on the rail as the skimmer jolted over a dune.

It was unusual for him to ride anywhere—he preferred walking infinitely over being carried across the sand by whining metal—but he'd needed to go somewhere fast this time. Normally this would have been a problem as he had no money, but the man driving the skimmer had known Tenmon's reputation, and an extensive warning about the man's business partner's under-the-table dealings and how they could be corrected had bought him passage.

People used to think Tenmon was the most elaborate liar when he'd first started out. But then everything he said came true, down to the last detail, and people started talking about him, started seeking him out.

He felt a little bad—he was supposed to head for Kagae this week and tell futures there. But this vision had hit him in the head with the weight of destiny behind it.

"Hey, Tenmon-sensei, we gotta make a stop-over for repairs, but we should make Kanna within the next three hours. That alright with you?"

Tenmon looked into the driver's anxious face and nodded. "Half an hour's difference shouldn't matter too much."

"Hah! They're never that fast at the repairs depot near Kogakyo!"

"They will be, this time," Tenmon said calmly.

Hokuto's sword spun out of her hands. She went after it...

...and her foe shoved his sword through her right ankle, damaging cybernetic circuits and pinning her to the ground by her leg. Cursing, she went for her selection of knives as she twisted around in the dirt.

The wind blew her opponent's scarf away, exposing his face.

"Gonna put one in your ribs, you cock-sucking shitty little—YOU?"

"I see you haven't changed much, Shichisei-dono," Okamoto Katsushiro said mildly as he went and picked up her double-bladed sword. He only needed to use one hand to do it, she noticed; its weight was such that most men needed to pick it up two-handed.

"What in the unholy name of the second Amanushi are you doin' out here?" Hokuto snapped at him. "Okamoto Katsushiro, this is the last place on earth I'd expect to find the likes of you runnin' around."

"Yes," the young man said, his green eyes solemn. "That's exactly why I'm here."

"Is that right?"

Yukino nodded confirmation, a little uneasy. On the one hand, she and Shichiroji had been bursting to tell Kanbei the good news, and it wasn't something they could keep from the man who'd become so close to them both; on the other, it also wasn't something they could just spring on their friend, and it had to have some kind of ceremony behind it out of respect for Shichiroji's old "husband". But Kanbei sat across from them and looked...tired. Smiling, but suddenly so very tired.

"Then, I'm very happy for you both."

"We were thinking if it's a boy, we would name him after you," Shichiroji let him know, pressing a teacup into his old comrade's hands.

For some reason, that got a chuckle out of Kanbei, albeit a slightly bitter one. "There are so many reasons that isn't a good idea, Shichiroji, I can't even begin to list them all."

"Father's prerogative," Shichiroji replied with the faint smile indicating he was going to be stubborn about this. Yukino had heard some of the girls refer to it as the "jump-me-now" smile, and women and men of various persuasions had fallen for it. "Even if he doesn't grow to be a samurai, it's a name with immense honour behind it."

"I think Hikaru is a lovely name for a little girl, if you're interested."

"Oh no, you're not weaseling out of this one, Kanbei-sama."

"Well, it is."

"I," Yukino announced over top of the two swordsmen, "am going to go and bring back mochi, and by the time I return I expect the two of you to either have resolved this nonsense either by reasoned discussion or a contest of who can give the other the better orgasm. Swords are not to be involved in this." Ignoring Shichiroji's protesting huff, she picked herself up and exited the tearoom with great dignity.

There was a moment's silence before Kanbei pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shichiroji...you know what this means."

"I know what you think it means," the blond man shot back, half-smile still fixed firmly in place. "But once in a while you're wrong about things. Trust your old "wife" on this one."

"I...have imposed on your and Yukino's kindness for far too long."

"I'm sure her egging me on when I dragged you into our not-exactly-marital bed meant an imposition on your part, right." Kanbei continued to stare at his tea; Shichiroji's smile started to fade. "Look, Kanbei...don't go. Please."

"I have to."

"You...it's not that you can't. I wouldn't presume to tell you of all people that. But you're part of this...of our weird little family. And it's painful watching you think you don't deserve any kind of happiness."

Kanbei put down his teacup. "Shichiroji..."

"You're going anyways, aren't you. Then I'll go with you."

"No you won't. You'll stay with Yukino and your child. If you try to follow me, so help me I'll knock you out."

Shichiroji's eyes narrowed. "That's just cold, Kanbei."

"I'll come back to you both. I swear it on my sword."

The air was fraught with tension for a moment; then both men looked away from each other. "I see."

"You do. Thank you."

By the time Yukino came back with the mochi, Kanbei had left, and his teacup sat there forlorn and cold. Yukino spent fifteen minutes railing with various levels of vitriol against a certain good-for-nothing freeloading samurai, then fell into Shichiroji's arms and cried furiously. At least part of this was so that he could bury his face in her hair to hide his own tears and preserve his dignity, even if there was nobody there to see them.

The next day dawned bright and a bit cool, but by the time the sisters had gathered up their rice offerings and made their way out of the water shrine towards the cliff, the sun's warmth was already burning through the morning mist. Halfway to the cliff, Okara appeared and fell in step with Komachi.

"Nice morning for a walk," was all the incisive young girl said, grinning. Komachi gave her an affectionate shove in response, and the two bickered and gossiped all the way there.

Kirara, distracted by the girls and her own thoughts, didn't notice the man until they were almost halfway across the clearing to the burial mounds, and only then because Komachi yelped out, "Look, neesama, there's someone already here!"

Kirara grabbed onto Komachi and Okara's shoulders without even realizing it, her eyes going wide as the stranger who'd been sitting before the graves got to his feet. He was of average height and looked somewhat younger than Rikichi; somewhere under the dust he had black hair, but his layers of rumpled clothes were worn ragged and patched, and his hands and face were dirty. The only part of him that wasn't some shade of desert-coated were his pale green eyes, as wide as her own and taking in the three intruding females.

"Oh...I'm sorry..."

Komachi, not surprisingly, recovered herself first. "Hey, who the heck are you and what are you doing hanging around Nunky and the others' graves like that, huh? Are you a grave-robber?"

"Komachi..." Kirara began warningly, only to be stopped by the man's quiet voice.

"No, no I'm not...I was just talking to them."

"What?"

"To them," he said patiently, "to Kikuchiyo-dono, Heihachi-dono, Gorobei-dono, and Kyuzo-dono, don't you see?"

Kirara's grip on Komachi's shoulder tightened as the younger girl practically vibrated with rage. "Is that your idea of a joke? Huh? Don't come up here and tell lies like that, I bet you just read their names, you..."

"Uh, Komachi-chan," Okara said in a would-be-reasonable voice, "where would he have read the names? They're not on the graves. There's just the flag as a marker...Kirara-sama, you're hurtin' my shoulder."

Komachi stared at her friend in disbelief and made a choked noise. Kirara looked at the newcomer in silence, suspicion creeping over her.

"I promise you, I'm not a charlatan," he said, as she tilted her head to see if the shimmering shape behind him was a trick of the early morning light. "My name is Shichisei Tenmon...and I'm sorry if this is unusual for you, but it's also rather odd for me. Habitually, it's the living who ask me to contact the dead on their behalf, and not the other way around."

"Oi, oi, Ten-noji, I don't think they believe ya."

"Kirara-dono does, I think, but Komachi's not buying it."

"Ah goddamn it, we finally get one of these medium types out here and he's not even theatrical enough to make a proper go of it! Hey Ten-noji, let Gorobei-dono take over your body and maybe he can..."

"No I won't. You've seen this guy, possessing him takes huge bites out of his stamina and strength."

"Aw geez..."

"You'll convince them, Tenmon-san, I know you will. After all...not to pressure you, but you kind of have to."

"Fate of Kanna village and the world hanging in the balance, that sort of thing."

"Hei-noji, Gorobei-dono, you ain't helpin' none!"

"Heh, sorry. Hey, did they season the rice this time? It's extra-delicious when it's seasoned."

"...this is frivolous."

"Don't fret, Kyuuzou-dono, you'll get your chance to settle matters. You're the one who finally got through to Tenmon-san, after all."

"Heeeeeey, Komachi-chan, can you hear me? Believe this guy, he's grubby but he's honest! ...man, it's times like these being a ghost sucks."

"Perhaps you should move on to your next life as a vacuum cleaner, then."

"As a what?"

"Now I know the end of the world's nigh. Kyuuzou just made a joke. A lame joke, but a joke..."

Komachi eyed Tenmon as he cocked his head and pulled a wry face. "What are you doin'...?"

"Er, sorry, Kikuchiyo-dono is very loud, and he sprays steam a lot and waves his arms...psychically speaking it's very bewildering, it makes it hard to focus on the other three." He looked back at the world of the living for a moment, as the girls' eyes went round with shock. "Er...did I say something wrong?"

TO BE CONTINUED...