Something wasn't right, he wasn't behind him anymore. He was always there, never too far from his side, but now, now he was nowhere to be seen on this blood drench battlefield. The young dragon turned too look, spinning on the balls of his feet. Still no sign of him. He'd gone too far ahead, leaving the man who would guard his back in the dust filled grounds.
"KOJUUROU?!" He screamed into the noise of the clashing swords, battle cries, and an occasional explosion. A sickening feeling rose up in his stomach, over taking his mind. It wasn't too unusual to be separated in the heat of battle, but this left him feeling uneasy, like a premonition of the end.
To his left, a glint of light from a blade caught his eye. He leaned back, barely in time to dodge the sharp blade. 'This is not good. I can't get worked up. I have to keep my mind on my surroundings.' He told himself, pushing the dark feeling into the back of his mind.
With one, quick movement, his own sword sliced across his would be killer's chest. Blood spurting from the wound, painting the ground a dark red as he fell, his own blood and the dirt of the earth becoming his bed.
"Men die too easily." The words left his mouth without even a thought, bringing back the deepening pit of fear. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to concentrate, knowing full well that loosing himself now could cost his life. He had too much on his shoulders for that, too many people who needed him. But he needed someone too, and that someone was nowhere to be found, someone he should have waited for.
Yet he pushed on, fighting his way through hordes of men, leaving a trail of blood for his own men, and hopefully Kojuurou, to follow. The promises of winning the battle grew right along with his own ego as he cut down yet another man hoping to achieve his head.
"This is too eas-"
A sharp pain erupted in his right side, his one eye widened in realization, he had let his guard down. His blindside was wide open and now he was paying the consequences. Slowly, he turned his head, looking at the spear that had suddenly become a part of his own body.
His muscles screamed at him as he dashed forward, spear still imbedded in him, lodging his blade into the spear-wielder's skull, ending his life instantly.
His body shook as he fell to a knee, his left hand gripping at the invading weapon. His head snapped around as he scanned the battleground for his own men, none of which could be found, he'd gone too far ahead. With shaky, blood soaked hands, he tugged at the spear, pulling it out of his side, regretting it almost immediately as he watched his own fluids spill out, mixing with the enemies he had struck down. His world began to blur, he tried to stand, his legs wobbling with each step he took, his hand attempting to add as much pressure to the fresh laceration as his quickly weakening body could.
"I ne- need to make it back t-to my men. B-back to Ko-kojuu-juurou." He said to himself, his voice cracking, his breaths short and quick. He forced himself to move, hoping that he would be back in time. Refusing to let this be his last taste of war.
With each agonizing step, his sight would lose focus, and at some points, teeter on the the brink of udder darkness,a ribbon of blood following in his wake, his knees threatening to give out.
The dragon was a falling, he knew it too, it began to sink in when his eye refused to see. This was it, the death of a daimyo, a pitiful end in his own eyes. Alone on the battlefield, he was to blame too. He ran too fast into the crowed of solders, leaving everyone, even Kojuurou, behind to fend and follow. He was the reason Kojuurou was no longer behind him. It was his own fault. The blood loss was starting to take over him as his legs gave out, he didn't even know if he was close to his own men, his vision had turned black, his body was feeling cold.
"HITO!" Panicked filled screams from his army over powered all other sounds, he had made it, but it was still too late, a blanket of darkness was already overtaking him.
"MASAMUNE-SAMA!"
The voice rang through his ears, so unreal to him that he believed it was his mind playing trick on him. Footsteps hurried towards him, metal hit the ground, strong arms rolled him onto his back, a hand met with his still pressing weakly against his wound.
"Masamune-sama?" Kojuurou's voice was full of worry and panic as he too added to the pressure to his side, desperately trying to slow the blood.
"K-kojuu-rou, I-I'm sorry." The young lords voice was soft and quiet, barely audible to the ears so close to him. He raised his hand, red and wet with his own blood, to where he believed Kojuurou's face would be, softly smiling as he felt the warmth of his cheek against his ice cold hand.
'Thud'
The hand that had just left it's bloody prints on Kojuurou's face fell to the ground. The dragon was gone.