Author's Note: "Blade of the Immortal" and all of its characters are propriety of Hiroaki Samura. Who is a genious.


March is an unpredictable month. You can get few days of beautiful warm and sunny weather in a row, and then a whole week of rainy pandemonium, with snow and hail for toppers. But as it nears the end, sunshine looses its coldness and sharpness, and sakura start blooming. Yayoi. Truly, the world looks as if it was born just yesterday, and now mother nature experiments like a child – destroys and creates as it pleases – flooding villages or covering roads in a thin layer of petals.

It's funny though, even if cherry blossom is told to be most beautiful I always liked ume and momo better. The plum tree flowers first, when snow still lays in a shadowed places, and even at home near the fire it's chilly and unpleasant. But it's sure sign of approaching spring – pink or even red petals lying on a muddy ground, shattered under freshly fallen hail. This year, plum tree before Anotsu's dojo lost all of its flowers in one night, because of the heavy rains. Pity, it always born fruits perfect for umeshū, or so I heard. Strangely, the trees in the backyard of Anotsu's mansion didn't seem to suffer from the rainfalls, and though they bloomed rather late, they seem quite alright. Now the space between the house and tobiishi is covered in fallen petals of cherry and plum trees. Looks like snow with blood splattered on it. More so, because in the center there's Kagehisa, practicing his sword skills.

It amazes me to no end, how he unintentionally makes something as raw and violent as sword practice seem to be fine and delicate art. For mere peasant that I am, it could be one of fine court pastimes – so refined his moves are, so clean and graceful. It's an old exercise he does, just a simple kata, and against my usual defiance to this particular training, I can't take my eyes off of his swinging form. Push, shove, spin, and push. Even though he looks almost feminine in his movements I know each and every one of his swings is in reality calculated to kill. An outsider would probably think it's just a kid playing with some outrageous toy – his axe looks silly in comparison to nihontō – big, curved and malformed. Kagehisa himself looks absurdly young. Even though we're roughly the same age, I'm always under impression that he's somehow pure. Silly thought, considering amount of blood that his seemingly delicate hands shed so far. Nevertheless there's this strange air of cleanliness when Anotsu is around. Maybe it's his face, always so blank, only eyes brightened by ambition. Or maybe Baa-chan does magic with laundry.

He is polishing his skills almost maniacally, every day. Not only by direct work with actual weapon, like now, no, he's on a deeper level than that. He observes, measures and calculates everything carefully, and then makes his move without hesitation. Like in a fight. Funny thing, at the very beginning of our acquaintance I thought he's able to think only one thought at the time, so focused he seems on everything he does. Then I learned, that like a shogi player he usually thinks few steps ahead. Now I know, he not only predicts, but also modifies happenings, basing his current actions on past and future as well. Come to think of it, Kagehisa is probably the most determined man on the face of earth; at least I never saw anyone so obsessed with their goal. I wonder if he would sell his body if it guaranteed gaining a fine swordsman like his greatest obsession – Makie. What an irony – whoring himself to buy a whore. Right now he looks like he'd be capable of doing it. His eyes are colder than water in a nearby pond, lips sealed in a thin line, expression so intent, it's almost cruel.
My eyes drift when I see movement somewhere near the entrance to the dojo, and there is a mirrored look of resolve, just the face is definitely feminine now. It's hard not to laugh, seeing Anotsu bathed in cherry petals, swinging back end forth his axe with a predatory glare and behind him the girl, Sakura, oh irony of the name, regarding him with hungry eyes. Her gaze shifts after a while, and I see a flash of anger, before she ducks her head, and with carefully measured steps moves towards me. Kagehisa never stops his practice, even though long time ago I lost count of how many times he repeated the kata. Even though the axe is unbelievably heavy. Even though he came back from one of his trips just yesterday. Even though it's far past lunchtime and Baa-chan is still busying herself in the kitchen.

Sakura finally reaches the porch, slips off her sandals, climbs up two steps, passing me as she goes into the house. Her shoulders are stiff with the tension that hangs between us from the day I arrived at Anotsu's mansion. She eyed me suspiciously from the very beginning. I guess she's in love with Kagehisa, but his coldness raises all kinds of suspicions in her pretty head. Our friendly behavior also can feed some strange assumptions. This thought amuses me to no end. Imagining myself with a man, samurai no less, is far beyond anything I could invent. To receive anything above a cold glare from Kagehisa seems ridiculous. It's laughable, to imply anything more than a boss-follower relationship between us. It's so hilarious at the moment, I laugh heartily before I can think better. Of course, it couldn't disturb my bosses practice, but he halts his movements nonetheless, and stares at me with an inquisitive look. Must have been more tired than it shows.

I don't say a word, because really, what there is to say? He's silent as well, as he approaches me slowly, sits down and contemplates falling flowers. Then someone shifts behind us and I see a cup and tea pot out of the corner of my eye. Ah, Sakura, always so considerate. She says she'll prepare the bath, and leaves and it's silent and peaceful again. Kagehisa just sits there, tea untouched, eyes fixed unseeingly on some point before him. Sun hides for a while behind cumulus clouds, and unpleasantly cold wind breaks up suddenly. Petals from cherry trees loose their calm drifting, and swirl frantically all around. Then it all stops as rapidly as it begun. I turn my head too look at Kagehisa. Soft rays of sunshine bring out color of his eyes – deep green, so uncommon – but don't manage to lessen severity of their gaze. He looks down at the cup in his hands. Few petals drift lazily in a clear liquid.
"You're staring." His voice strangely soft is barely audible. "Just like the first time I met you." Now he smiles in this unique way of his. It's not a real smile by other people standards, but I learned to read his seemingly expressionless face so good, sometimes it makes me think I'm imagining things. Still, he is sitting here, eves turned down, and lips quirked in the slightest smirk ever. I can see his smile in the way his lashes fall down to hide sparkles of humor, in a way his shoulders loose their rigidness.
It downs on me right in that moment, that there's probably no one else that sees Kagehisa in this vulnerable state. He's casual around Kuroi, but it's apparent he respects him as a teacher. He never looses his composure around women – always so direct and businesslike it's almost rude. Maybe, just maybe, there is really something between us, and I just happened to overlook it until now.

He turned his eyes to me now, one eyebrow lifted inquiringly. Shit. Have to say something, or else it'll turn out really weird. But then, I'm in no shape for reminiscing our first meeting – how equivocally it sounds! – so I resort to one of my carefully thought conversational evasions.

"Yeah, well, have to admit I'm starving as much as I did back then…" My hand goes automatically to the back of my neck. "Baa-chan really takes her time preparing lunch today, won't you say?" No better way to avoid the subject, than to trivialize it. But then again, was there really any subject to be uneasy about?

He downs his tea in one gulp, stands up. Looks down on me, and for a brief moment I have the strongest urge to know what's in his head, since his face is stone cold again. His gaze lingers for a moment on my features, and then he just turns around, goes further into the house. I let myself slide down and lay on the cold boards. Perhaps I'm starting seeing things. Maybe I just got spoiled, living in Anotsu's dojo, without doing anything but accompanying my boss in his abundant trips. Sakura petal lands on my nose. I take it off, and just when I'm about to throw it away, it strikes me, how weather-beaten my skin looks in comparison to its pink pastelness. I don't belong here, at least not on the position I'm occupying. A peasant's son, spending his day mastering swordsmanship or doing nothing at all. Hilarious. Maybe I could start career as a street magician instead. Magatsu Taito – The Man in the Mask. Or The Mask on the Man. That could work…

Sakura's voice snatches me away from my musings. The lunch is ready. I sit up, still slightly at a loss. I never was good with handling feelings, especially my own confused ones. Actually I haven't got to take care of them before, everything was clearly defined. The samurai was bad. The world was cruel. That was it. As a self-thought kengō I could live a simple, though dangerous life, slashing random opponents. Then I met Kagehisa and started eliminating his opponents, started being his bodyguard. Not that he needs one – he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, even being outnumbered. As we worked together, we developed a coarse friendship, since he turned out to be surprisingly open minded and tolerant. My hand drifts to my eyes on its own. I'm thinking way too much, I can feel it in a steady pulsing behind my temples. I untie the string holding my hair and run my palms through spiky hair on my sculp. Then, a hand lands on my shoulder and I jump slightly. It's only Kagehisa. Our eyes meet. I get up without a word, and he turns around, leads the way to the irori. All members of the household are gathered around it now – Baa-chan, Sakura and errand boy, Ryōsuke – and Kagehisa takes his seat at the host place. There's only one seat left. The honor guest's place. I hesitate, but when Kagehisa looks up there's no room for a discussion. I sit down obediently.

Yayoi. Anotsu is like this month – unpredictable and uncontrollable. Destroys and creates with the simplest gestures. Changes people's life seemingly without any trouble or hesitation. His moves are simple and elegant like soft drifting of falling flowers, but his mind is cold and merciless. Like a flood. My eyes drift to him again, only to find his green pupils boring into mine. Maybe I was swept away by the current and hadn't realized it until now?


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