A/N1: Please note that Yukimura is portrayed as a girl here. There is a complimentary one-shot for this story called 'In the Rain'.
He loved her.
That simple but profound realization suddenly came to him on a rainy day. The sky was dark with thick layers of clouds, and it was raining so hard he could barely recognize the corpses scattering all over the place - except for a red spot at the far end of the field. His heart froze at the blurred sight, and his breath was caught in his throat. No, it couldn't be...
He rushed his horse across the field, paying no attention to Kojuro's warning not to be reckless. Now there was only one thing on his mind. Or more precisely, one prayer.
It really was the Takeda retainer, lying broken and bloodied in the mud. There was blood everywhere, so much blood that he was starting to feel sick despite himself. Now he truly understood what seeing red was like. Whoever had done this to her, he was going to make him pay.
He jumped down from his horse and rushed to her side. It was so much worse seeing her up close. Her complexion was pale and lifeless, painfully contrasting all the blood on her face.
"Shit. Shit."
Always calm and collected except in the heat of battles, the One-eyed Dragon rarely feared anything, but now he could feel fear gripping his mind, its claws unforgiving. He could not imagine life without his rival - a spirited, vibrant existence that had somehow carved her way into his heart. When had she become an irreplaceable piece of himself?
Gathering himself together, he quickly checked her pulse, and waves of relief washed over him. He could barely feel the rhythm of her life, but it was definitely there.
"Masamune-sama."
Gathering her limp form in his arms, he stood up in silent rage. "Kojuro. The others?"
His second-in-command shook his head, his expression as grim as his voice. "As far as we've checked, no survivors."
Looking down at the unconscious Takeda retainer - no, the former Takeda retainer, he wondered how on Earth Takeda had collapsed. "...I see. We're returning."
He could feel his Right Eye's perceptive gaze on him, but it seemed he had chosen not to comment on the way he was handling the girl. "Hai."
"Masamune-dono?"
A familiar voice, now weak and hoarse, pulled him out of the grasp of slumber. He slowly blinked his eye open, feeling a bit disoriented waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling – the guest room in his compound, he finally recognized. Yukimura was lying in a futon beside him – at some point during the night he must have fallen asleep while watching over her. When his mind adjusted to reality, he shot up from the floor as his mind reeled over the fact that finally, she was awake.
Yukimura had been dead to the world since the day he had found her, bloody and unconscious, in the middle of the rain. Since then, to his frustration, he had found sleep escaping him, and he had been seeking refuge here beside her unconscious form. Somehow, watching the girl sleep instilled a strange sense of peace in him, and before he knew it, he was gone off into dreamland himself.
And now, after lying still like a vegetable for a week and almost worrying him to death, the object of his anxiety was giving him a curious look, probably wondering what they were doing here and why he had been lying on the floor. He stared back blankly as a strange sort of silence fell between them. Just about when he started to wonder if she remembered what had happened, the brunette suddenly sat up, pain and agony written all over her features. She was gripping the blankets so hard he could see blood seeping from under her palms.
"Oyakata-sama? Sasuke? Everyone?"
Slowly, she turned her widened eyes to him, possibly begging him to tell her that everything was just a very bad dream. It pained him to the very core to shatter her fragile hope, but this could not be helped. What had happened simply could not be changed.
At his grim expression, the brunette went very still and her eyes, once shining with fiery determination, became frightfully blank. Her grip on the blanket loosened as a few drops of tear fell onto the back of her hands.
Masamune could only watch silently. He did not like seeing her cry like this, but no words of comfort came to his mind. What did one say to a person who had just lost everything? Every word of encouragement he knew seemed hollow and ridiculous, so he kept his silence.
"I… I've failed everyone. Oyakata-sama, please forgive me."
After a moment of heavy silence, she opened her mouth and put her tongue between her teeth. Masamune realized in cold horror then that she was going to bite her tongue to death. He quickly closed the distance between them, his mind racing for how he could stop her without aggravating her injuries. He could just slap her out of it, but the thought of hurting her further did not quite appeal to him. Suddenly, a solution came to his mind, and his body acted upon it before his mind could consider the consequence of such a measure.
One hand carefully grabbing the back of her neck, he urged her forward before pressing his lips onto hers. There was no lust or desire in the kiss, only warmth and a need to comfort and something else he could not quite place a name to.
Feeling her stiffen in shock, he pulled back and looked into her widened eyes, his face deadly serious. "Do you think the Tiger of Kai would want you dead? Do you really think that this is what they would wish for you?"
His harsh words seemed to pull her out of stupor. Suddenly, her lips trembled as big, fat tears started to fall freely down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she replied shakily. "No."
He chose not to comment further on the subject or what he had just done. "Stay here until you're fully healed."
Her eyes dropped to her hands – though in shame or embarrassment he did not know. "Thank you, Masamune-dono, but I do not wish to impose on your hospitality."
A slightest itch of irritation crawled into his mind. Why did she always have to be so formal? Weren't they friends? "Then you can earn your stay here. Kojuro could use a hand or two with his crops."
With those last words, he rose to his feet and exited the room.
The night was cold and wet, a painful reminder of that fateful day almost a month ago. Yukimura's recovery was progressing smoothly. Nowadays she was always up and about, helping with chores around the house and, to Kojuro's unspoken delight, tending to the crops as he had suggested. Although she was always smiling, those empty curves on her lips did nothing but remind him of who she had been. It was painfully clear that now she was only a shell of her former self. Her vibrancy and unadulterated determination were all gone since the day Takeda had been destroyed, and his heart ached at the knowledge that, no matter how much he wished to, there was nothing he could do to fill that void.
A soft knock pulled him out of his depressing thoughts, and upon glancing at the clock, he realized that he had been staring at the same page of the book for almost an hour now.
"Masamune-dono?" A familiar voice called out softly from the other side of the shoji door, and his brow quirked in surprise. Wondering what she could possibly want from him at such late hours, he stood up and went to slide the door open. The object of his contemplation was kneeling on the other side with a thoughtful expression on her shadowed face. He was going to inquire of her business with him, but when she looked up, his question caught in his throat at the sight of her eyes. If the candle light was not playing tricks on him, he thought he could see traces of the fiery spirits that he had come to love shining once again from those golden orbs. What had brought about this sudden change?
She seemed discouraged by his silence for her features fell a bit. "Please forgive me for intruding upon you at such a time, but may I speak with you for a moment?"
"Alright."
He stepped aside to let her into his quarters before sliding the door close. Yukimura went to kneel down near his desk, where the only candle in the room was burning away softly. Her gaze was kept on her hands, folded humbly in her lap, as she waited for him to sit across her at a respectable distance.
A short silence fell between them; one was deep in thought while the other was waiting. Finally, the brunette spoke up. "The crops are growing nicely."
"…I see."
"Thank you for your suggestion, Masamune-dono." She looked down at her hands, her eyes somber and thoughtful. "These hands… It was the first time they were used to create something, not destroy."
"Yukimura…" In these times of wars, people killed and people died, but to keep burdening herself with things that could not be helped… Sometimes, this girl was far too soft-hearted for her own good. He suppressed the urge to reach out to shake some sense into her, and quietly let her continue.
"I heard from Katakura-dono… that you dream of creating a world of peace and happiness for everyone."
His eyebrows subtly creased together as he made a mental note to strangle his second-in-command later for disclosing such private thoughts. He had only ever admitted them to Koujuro in his rare moment of sentimentality on the night before his very first battle so many years ago. Strangely, however, he did not mind having her know the dream kept close to his heart that much.
"Oyakata-sama is… was also dreaming of the same thing, and that has always been my goal."
Straightening her back formally, her hands placed on her knees, she looked into his eye with painful sincerity. "Masamune-dono, please allow me the honor to help you achieve you dream."
He stared at her in surprised amazement for a brief moment before unfamiliar warmth welled up in his heart. This girl had been through so much, had just suffered the tragedy of losing everything, and yet here she was, asking for his permission to let her help him achieve the greatest goal of his life.
If there had been any doubts about his feelings or what he should do with her, they were all gone now.
"Alright."
He leaned over and took her hand into his own, marveling at how frail her small hand seemed to be in his, and at the strength underlying that fragility. This little tigress was a force unto herself with a heart of gold, a rare jewel of a woman.
His single eye looking unwaveringly into hers, he asked softly. "Promise of a lifetime?"
She seemed bewildered by his gesture for a brief moment before clouds of perplexity cleared from those vibrant eyes as she realized what he had really meant. Her eyes shyly dropped to their joined hands as a rosy blush tinged her pale cheeks.
"I... I can't cook, you know."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head at her endearing innocence. Who cared? Having her wield her formidable pair of spears by his side was more than enough for the Oshu lord. Together, they would be unstoppable.
Together, with these hands, they would create the future.
A/N2: The part about Masamune's dream is from an official drama CD (available in Japanese: 戦国BASARA2 ~蒼穹！姉川の戦い~ ドラマCD).