Wayward Paths Converge

Chapter One: The Flight


"No matter how many times you fall, what you need is to become strong, not for yourself, but for someone else's sake." – Sarutobi Sasuke

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"My braves, my loyal braves . . ."

The winds, like a mourning banshee, screamed and shrieked through the aging alcoves of Ueda castle.

Sanada Yukimura sipped at his hot tea, and the bodies of twenty-two slain Kōga ninja not yet cold remained strewn just outside the castle walls. His braves, while severely sleep-deprived and disheveled—splattered quite thoroughly with blood, in Saizō's case—languished heavily about the room. It was quiet. Only warm, dim candlelight prevented them from becoming swathed completely inside the darkness. Rank, the scent of death attempted to crawl in through the gaps in the shoji screens, upon which sinister shadows engaged in fluid, dancing combat not so different from the battle that had ended mere moments before.

The lull of crickets and the gurgle of nearby river water seduced the warriors to rest, but only the priestess succumbed. She reclined uncomfortably against Saizō's side, not caring about the bloodstains that marred his shirt. All she truly cared about was that his soothing smell could still permeate through the gory mess just fine.

Growing quickly irate with the prolonged silence of other braves' master—he refused to call the man his own master—Saizō roughly jostled his shoulder until Isanami awoke.

"Wha—" her sleepy gasp was so endearing that Saizō had to fight back the uncomfortable heat crawling up the back of his neck at the sight of her bewildered expression. If he was unmercifully honest with himself, her warmth had not been unwelcome in the slightest. But his arm was numb, and this was no time for her to be dropping off to sleep. He almost felt guilty when her only retaliation was to wipe a dead Koga ninja's blood from her cheek and smile at him brightly. It unsettled him, and so he slid his gaze back to the wall above Yukimura's head.

And it was all too easy to ignore the glare Sasuke was aiming at him from across the room.

Finally, the master of the castle cleared his throat and set aside his tea. It seemed he had finished navigating his thoughts.

About time, Saizō grumbled to himself. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Absently eyeing a freshly bandaged gash on Rokuro's forearm, Yukimura then continued a silent scope of his warriors. Somewhere outside an owl flapped its wings. He sighed. There were eight of them. Only eight braves. This was a fine time for Jinpachi to be missing. Honestly, what the hell could be more important?

"Isanami needs to be taken away from here," his shrewd gaze flickered, one by one, to each of his subordinates, as if beckoning them to challenge his decision. "Tonight. Immediately."

"But won't she be safer here?" Miyoshi, his words laced with worry for his adoptive sister, beseeched his master. His large battering weapon balanced precariously across his lap, as if mimicking his own desperate enthusiasm. "We took care of those ninja just fine, and she wasn't hurt."

Yukimura nodded, "Until now these walls and your prowess alone have been adequate. But the number of attacks is growing," distractedly, he brushed pipe ash from the silk folds of his clothing with a stern swipe, "and so is the number of assassins. Ana and Jinpachi are no longer among us at the moment, so keeping the young girl here is not a chance I am willing to take." His gaze settled on Isanami, who was staring at the floor, dejected and feeling guilty beyond measure. Then it shifted with finality to the young man sitting overly composed beside her.

"Saizō, it would be best if you are the one to take Isanami to a village nearby. It's a day's travel east of here."

Having made this pronouncement, Yukimura motioned to Rokuro with a deft wave of his hand. His page, ever diligent, had already begun writing on a blank scroll.

When Rokuro finished, he chucked it at Saizō who snatched it out of the air, unfurled the parchment, and proceeded to read.

Brows furrowed, he looked up and deadpanned, "Nakamura Keita?"

Yukimura nodded, "If you take that letter to him he will offer you lodgings. Kakei and young Benmaru will accompany you. This combination should make you the least suspicious as a group."

Determination etched into his features, Isanami's brother leaned forward again, "I will go too."

Yukimura shook his head, "Your skills will be more helpful here, Miyoshi."

"Why send Kakei?" Saizō spoke up, cutting Miyoshi's argument short.

Kakei snorted. He had let his hair out of its usual binding, and was nursing a badly bruised shoulder. Saya, as always, remained propped at his side. It was not that he did not like Saizō—in fact he rather admired the young man—but the two certainly were not famous for always getting along. Especially where Isanami was concerned.

"I believe you will find he has several skills in deception that may aid you in your endeavor," Yukimura drawled. He winked once at Kakei.

On the other side of the room, Rokuro rolled his eyes and turned to Saizō. He was far too tired to endure any more of his master's antics this night, "The people in this village are not exactly accommodating. During the last war their territory became a battleground. Therefore, they're naturally suspicious of outsiders and have no scruples about betraying even their own neighbors. However, there are no other alternatives at this point, so just be sure to keep your guard up."

"Tch." Saizō tucked the letter away. Despite his displeasure, he had no desire to protest any longer; he just despised the way Yukimura gave him orders in the form of suggestions, as if that would trick him into being an apt, more cooperative subordinate. He was no vassal and he intended to keep it that way. It was just that Isanami was looking up at him, so wide-eyed and hopeful that challenging Yukimura did not even enter his mind.

Carefree demeanor returning, the lord of Ueda nodded in delight. He slapped his hands down onto his knees, a broad smile lighting up the slightly weathered contours of his kind face, "Well, then. It's settled."

The dismissal was unspoken, and so the braves instantly began vacating the room. Miyoshi moved to lead his sister out by her arm, but her forlorn eyes remained on Saizō. She, as usual, adamantly wished to stay as near to her guardian as possible, but her tiredness and her wish to spare her brother's feelings kept her uncharacteristically quiet.

After lingering behind to stretch his sore muscles, Saizō refastened the sleeveless cloak about his neck and made to follow, but the low, amused rumble of Yukimura's voice stopped him just outside the screen.

"Isanami is lucky," the master drawled. It was that irritating tone his voice took on whenever he felt like he had learned something others did not know, "that you of all people ended up being her Light. You've become quite accommodating for a warrior, have you not?"

The Iga ninja allowed an annoyed scoff passed his teeth, dutifully ignoring Yukimura's last teasing remark. Nevertheless, his lips were adorned in a smirk, "Whatever. Just don't think I'm doing any of this for you, old man."

With that, Saizō snapped the shoji screen shut behind him, leaving Yukimura and his page alone.

It was Rokuro who finally interrupted the castle lord's chuckling, "Young master, how many horses should I tell Sasuke to fetch? Four?"

Sudden mischief lit up Yukimura's eyes. He rubbed at the scratchy shadow of his facial hair, deep in thought, "No. Just tell Sasuke to bring three, would you, Rokuro?"

"Only three?" a fine brow quirked in confusion. "Very well, Yukimura-sama."

His loose hakama swished around his ankles as he exited the room.


Isanami was almost fast asleep against Saizō's chest by the time Benmaru and Juzo Kakei mounted their own horses. It was Miyoshi's large hand patting her knee that roused her from her drowsy lethargy. "I'll see you soon, sister," he reassured her, blatantly dejected that Yukimura would not allow him to accompany her.

Unperturbed, Isanami tenderly grasped his hand and beamed, "I'm with Saizō, so I'll be alright. Don't worry."

With an impatient grunt, Saizō spurred their horse forward without warning, and guided it into a brisk walk in the direction of the darkened road heading east. It gave him great pleasure to ignore Miyoshi's dismayed cry of "Gah! Rude heretic!"

Isanami waved animatedly back at her brother, Rokuro, and Yukimura. Kamanosuke had stormed off earlier when the castle lord revealed that "no," he most definitely could not go with them if his only motivation was to "pummel Saizō bloody until only a corpse remained." Even Sasuke began to brood after the news, only giving Isanami a bashful goodbye as they prepared to depart. He had then turned to glare once more at Saizō before turning around and walking into the woods.

Approximately five hours remained before sunrise and Kakei took the lead, Saizō and Isanami following behind on their horse, with Benmaru at the very end. The wide-eyed child had been forlorn at the prospect of traveling without his close pal Miyoshi, but was soon rejuvenated upon the realization that he would be with his Isanami-neechan, and allowed to lag behind at various intervals in order to set up traps. Naturally, the majority of them were explosive, courtesy of Yukimura's funds.

At the center of the line Saizō was tense. And before they had even reached the first hour into their journey he had become a veritable wreck of nerves. Normally, every sinew in his lithe body would have mimicked that very tension, were it not for him forcing relaxation into his torso; for Isanami needed a comfortable pillow, one that was preferably not riddled with high-strung tendons. But his eyes were ever alert, watching the forest shadows at both sides, hand poised atop the horse's flank so that he could feel its every step vibrate through his wrist and up his arm. His hand was prepared to leave the animal's soft hide and grip the hilt of his dark sword at the slightest sound that decidedly did not belong.

"Mmph."

The soft moan nearly warranted such retaliation, until he realized that it had been emitted by none other than Isanami, who was shifting restlessly in her sleep.

Saizō looked down in time to see her nuzzle a fair cheek against the midnight cloth of his chest. Perplexed, he could only shake his head. He never would understand the extent of her unconditional trust in him. He had failed before—to protect her, that is—and yet she remained forever unassuming, making it clear, rather uncomfortably clear, that she believed in him, believed in his abilities. As her guardian, as a warrior, as her Light. He scoffed inwardly. Foolishness, utter foolishness was what her heartfelt sentiments were. Hell, he had lied about himself from the very beginning, told her he was a blasted samurai, of all things.

And the more he thought of it, the guiltier the young Iga ninja became. Guilt and anxiety, as rare as they were in his case, were unfortunately close cousins for him.

Unbidden, a pensive sensation not unlike fear had arisen in his throat, an almost nauseous feeling that let him know just how disappointed in himself he would be . . . should Isanami lose her trust in him. Should the gold light disappear altogether from her eyes when she looked up at him. All shinobi surely had as dark a past as he—even Sasuke, that sneaky little monkey from Kōga—but Saizō would be entirely satisfied if Isanami never discovered it. She had enough to worry about.

Inner demons, for instance.

If only. Her dilemma was in fact much worse.

His gaze flickered down to the Kushi-mitama atop her head, deceptively looking like a frivolous hair decoration nestled amongst her light blue hair. Suddenly, Isanami shifted again much more violently in her sleep. The restless priestess would have fallen off of the brown steed's back altogether, were it not for Saizō caging her in place with his arms. This was odd, he thought, especially since it was so late at night. As far as he knew, she usually slept rather peacefully.

She tossed her head once more, hair splayed across Saizō's chest and arms, before her heart rate calmed and she slept deeply once more. Sighing, the dark-haired ninja brushed some of her hair that was beginning to cling uncomfortably to the underside of his sweat-glossed jaw.

Then and there he made a promise to himself; if she was beginning to have nightmares, a very plausible possibility, he needed to keep a closer eye on her.

It was then that he noticed the eerie, dark aura emanating from the young woman. He looked down and, sure enough, her Kushi-mitama emitted the warning, black glow from its mystic jewel. Slightly panicked, Saizō placed a hand to the side of her head, as if to comfort her. He did not know what else to do yet, almost immediately, the darkness vanished and the jewel glowed briefly with a brilliant light. Isanami whimpered, almost in gratitude, and leaned closer to his hand.

Saizō pursed his lips and looked away. He wanted to think that the stone's glow had just been reflected moonlight, that her happy sigh was not meant for him, but he knew those to be untruths. Warmth, against his volition, emerged and flourished in his chest.

"Hey, adulterers," Kakei called suspiciously, renting the peaceful night air with his gruff voice. Saizō concluded that Isanami's distressed noises had not gone unheard, and watched with bemusement as the gun-toting warrior struggled with the prospect of turning around. It was as if he expected to see them fornicating right there on the horse, innocent priestess or not, "everything alright back there?"

Earlier he had already been distressed that Isanami had chosen to sit astride the horse with her legs akimbo, rather than together and over the animal's side.

Saizō drawled, "Everything is fine." He checked behind him and spotted Benmaru wide awake and holding a strand of tripping wire in his palm. The kid had amazing constitution. "Just some trouble sleeping."

The Iga ninja smirked as his words had Kakei's shoulders slumping dramatically in relief.

"We'll stop at a field just before sunrise. It's best if we continue on foot just in case the enemy ends up tracking us. We should get to the village by noon tomorrow, and when Yukimura-sama sends word that it's safe to return, we'll retrieve the horses; don't worry, they won't run away. Sasuke trained them well," Kakei's voice faded off into the night as he waited for a response. The steady hoof-beats filled the silence once again, seeming to echo the listless passage of time. A breeze soared down through the valley without warning, tousled the travelers' hair and clothing.

"Sounds reasonable," Saizō hummed.

At least dealing with Kakei would be relatively entertaining.


"I sure am hungry," Benmaru announced. He jogged forwards and tilted his head back in excitement. "Are you hungry, Isanami-neechan?"

"You bet. I'm starving!"

The Izumo priestess sluggishly swung her long hair over her shoulder, if only to spare her already sweaty neck from further smothering. Saizō sighed beside her. Looking up with bright eyes and giggling at the ninja's face, Isanami tried her hardest to fathom whether he was hungry or not, despite the neutral expression that consumed all but his eyes.

The deep green irises, however, were far too dark at that moment to betray anything to her.

Unbearably hot was the summer weather, the sun's rays bearing down so heatedly on the travelers that they were almost as a burdensome weight. The four braves, exhausted from riding horseback all night then continuing on foot well into the afternoon, walked side-by-side on a wide, barely used path ingrown with weeds and abundant tree roots. It was far from the main dirt road they had abandoned come sunrise. They passed not a soul—and, unfortunately, not a chance to forage for a decent meal. Even Kakei, holding the barrel of his prized gun Saya over his shoulder, was a bit grouchy under his hunger. That, and he was fighting in vain to hide the fact that carrying a sleeping Benmaru on his back that morning had not been optimal for his health. The large bruise on his shoulder seemed to ache with each thud of his heart. Nevertheless, he had suffered much worse and found no reason to bother complaining.

At least directly about his wound—oh, no, he found plenty of other issues to complain about. For hours.

If Saizō heard one more "Isanami, walk more like a proper lady," or "Isanami, there's a breeze; quick, hold down your skirts!" he was going to bend that shiny matchlock over Kakei's cranium.

In a vain attempt to keep himself sane for the final stretch of their journey, Saizō divided his attentions between surveying the trees and tall grasses for danger and observing Isanami with what he hoped was utmost ninja subtlety. Truly, it was amazing that, despite her sheltered upbringing, the young woman could be so astoundingly adept at deception. Her general—though, at times, admittedly quite frustrating—naivety had led him to believe her incapable of such intentional lies. Or convincing lies, at least; when he first met her she had always been so forthright, particularly where he was concerned, always honest from the crown of her head and down to her dainty toes. Never before had she smeared the cloudy residue of façade, essentially falsehood, over the transparent gold of her eyes. And yet, here she walked, down the forested path with her usual spring in her step, announcing to the world for all that she was worth that, dammit, she was hungry.

But it was only lies. All of it.

Well, Saizō surmised as the priestess clung fastidiously to his arm, perhaps not all of it. She did indeed have the appetite of a wild animal.

But something certainly was bothering her. Whatever it was, it was disturbing her with that restlessness that had wrought her sleep so unforgivingly the previous night . . . and had made the hair clip darken so ominously. Until he had pulled her closer. Only then did it subside. He sighed with rash frustration, but instantly regretted his behavior when Isanami looked up at him with hurt, apologetic eyes and abruptly released his arm. She reacted as if she had hurt him. The Iga ninja furrowed his brow. When had she become so perceptive? When had she become so easily guilt-ridden, so different from the Isanami everyone had become so acquainted with for almost an entire year? Something was certainly bothering her. Saizō determined then and there that while nightmares were not so unusual for a young girl who had her home mass-invaded twice, Isanami having a particularly horrifying dream could mean the utter disintegration of all living things within the radius of a mountain range. Such were the results of her distress, he bitterly mused.

Kakei's indignant voice pulled him suddenly from the whirlwind of his thoughts.

Wondering what the hell was going on, Saizō quirked a brow at Benmaru, who was smothering his laughter while loping along beside the gun-toting samurai. Then he shifted his vision to the two bickering braves in the middle of their little traveling line.

"Here!" Kakei bellowed. His arm was stretched rudely in front of Isanami's face, his black cloak dangling from his fingers. He had apparently returned Saya to his back holster and was now gesturing frantically to the side, genuinely looking rather offended. "Just take it and wear it. No one wants to look at your shoulders or your . . . uh—well, just put it on."

Isanami pouted. "But why, Kakei-san?" she asked with wide, earnest eyes that effectively gave her the expression of being properly flummoxed. "It's so hot," as if to prove her words, the priestess grabbed onto the collar of her dress, pulled it away from her chest, and proceeded to fan herself with it.

"Glegh," Kakei began to choke, hacking on his own spit. Benmaru was confused but helpfully reached up to thump on the older man's back.

Saizō rolled his eyes. But the burn in his cheeks forced him to look away as well, flustered by the unwanted eyeful he had just received of Isanami's chest.

Kakei, blushing and outraged, chucked his cloak at the unamused Iga ninja. It fell and draped itself over Saizō's head with an unceremonious plop. The samurai sputtered, "Saizō, cover up your wife."

Saizō ripped the cloth from his head and glowered, "For the last time, old man, Isanami is not my—"

"Hey, there it is!" Benmaru gasped. Both Kakei and Saizō reached back for their weapons until it became clear to the group just what their youngest brave was pointing at.

Several light panels of old but shiny bamboo glistened in patches between the labyrinth of towering tree trunks. The sight immediately restored morale and Isanami was the first to announce it.

"Food! Come on, Saizō," she grabbed on to her guardian's arm and insisted he hasten his pace with hers.

Saizō groaned. His boots kicked up dust as he dragged his feet, indignant at the obnoxious contact.

This was going to be a long mission.


A/N:

I have a soft spot for Kakei. Can't you tell?

I have been meaning to write a Brave 10 story for quite a while, so I'm very happy right now. However, this will be a relatively short story. I actually have another Brave 10 story in the works, which I may post some time following the completion of this one; it will likely be more mature and more involved, the details of which I may address gradually with each chapter of "Wayward Paths Converge." I hope to hear your opinions.

And I would like to give a special "thank you" to my fellow Brave 10 fan Tiger Priestess for being a wonderful reader and for always offering friendly support.

I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and that you would be so kind as to tell me what you think it of it.

So, please, do review.