Hiya! :)
A few weeks ago, I listened to Samurai 7 for the first time. And I fell head over heels in love with Heihachi. So, being an hardcore fanfiction fan (and particularly of fluffy romance and lemons... eh), I started to skim the internet to find the godzillions of lemony stories about our favorite gearhead. Only to find that there aren't that many Heihachi stories (or I couldn't find them, at least), and even less romance! (Have I mentioned I loved romance?) So my insatiable thirst for fluffiness and monkey love led me to... my first fanfic ever! Because I'm dying to see Hei-chan ALIVE and getting some.
So, before you read, I have to mention a few things:
1. English isn't my first language. I'm French (from Quebec)... and I really tried to write in French at first, but I listened to the anime in English and what I was writing just seemed plain silly to me. And no one betaed this (I didn't even try to find one, actually... couldn't figure why someone would like to do this for a newbie like me). So I try my best to write as close to perfect as I can get, but I know I'll make a whole bunch of mistakes. If you want to notify me on them, I'd love to, that would be much appreciated!
2. Not only is it my first fanfiction, it is also my first story ever (both in French and English). So my writing skills aren't particularly good (meaning they are quite poor), but I hope to improve as I progress with this story.
3. I also have no knowledge whatsoever about japanese customs. So I am in no way capable of writing this story while trying to stick to said japanese customs. I wish I could, but unfortunately, my knowledge on this matter is truly abysmal. I'll try my best to make it "believable" nonetheless.
4. I don't even have a plot outlined yet (organizational skills: -47). So I'm not sure where it'll get me. Feel free to make suggestions!
So, even with all those signs from the universe telling me I shouldn't be writing this, I thought I'd give it a go anyway. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Samurai 7, which belongs to Gonzo, and I don't make any money from this story. Shaky plot, unconvincing original characters, kitsch lines and misuses are all mine.
Lying on my back with an arm behind my head, I watched as the clouds lazily drifted to the west across the orange stained sky. Night would soon follow; it was even later than I thought. I sighed wearily and closed my eyes, lulled by the sounds of my cousins, Masahiro and Takeshi, who were respectively unevenly snoring and whistling off tone.
The boys had sold about half of their goods today, so I was able to lay in the back of our wooden cart with Masahiro, the youngest of the two brothers, beside me. Even though he was propped against a half empty bag of rice and his head was at the oddest angle, he was fast asleep and merrily snoring on: the guy could sleep through anything. I poked him hard in the ribs several times, but I knew it was no use: when I said nothing could wake him, I really meant nothing.
I sighed again and shifted my body a little lower so my legs, which were stretched in front of me, were now dangling a bit over the edge of the cart. I liked having my feet free of any pressure. It felt a little bit like flying, with the wind I could feel blowing softly between my toes. And, aside from any cheesy fantasy, it simply relieved the slight strain I felt after a day standing up to work.
It had been a tiring day.
As we did every Saturday, we had left our village, Chiyumura, just before dawn and traveled to the nearest city to open our little stand at the weekly outdoor market. There, my cousins offered a pretty narrow selection of farming products (mainly rice, milk and eggs) that their family was able to collect during the week. Unfortunately, with the actual state of things, business isn't all that good. Most people don't have money, and those who do, don't have a lot. So there are very few customers, who are all very cautious of how they spend what little money they have.
And while my cousins tried to sell their goods, I offered medical services to the townsfolk. Even though I am a qualified healer, I only offer basic medical care, simply because trying to offer more would be a waste of time and energy: as I said, people are so poor, they can barely afford to eat, let alone pay me to check on their health. Anyhow, the most usual problem is stomach ache, because they don't eat enough. So, they have a choice: pay me to tell them that in order to get rid of their pain, they need to eat more, or simply buy more food. Tough choice...
So, yeah. Tiring day, indeed.
"Oï! Masahiro! Kaiya!" said suddenly Takeshi, as he gave a tug on the reins of the ox that was strapped to the cart, pulling it to a stop. "There's a beggar that seems to be asleep on the side of the road... Do you think the guy might need help? "
I raised on my elbows, flipped on my stomach and crawled closer to where Takeshi was sitting, then tried to take a look at the sleeping man, who was about thirty feet away. In the declining light, all I could see was a heap of brownish clothes; the beggar sure seemed like a filthy fellow.
"Maybe. At any rate, checking on him can't hurt. Wouldn't like to think I may have left some poor sod dying all alone in the wilderness...", I answered jokingly.
My cousin chuckled. "Tasteless humor. Always appropriate."
With a slight smile, I stretched my limbs until I heard satisfying popping sounds and dragged myself off the cart. I walked around it and, as I started to head towards the beggar, I stumbled a bit on something. Frowning, I crouched down and took the offending piece in my hand: it was a long metal tube of about three foot and half. I looked at it more closely and saw there were many dents in it, as if it had been a part of a big machine that had suffered from a major blow up. Many dents. And blood. Lots of it. It had been so long since I saw that much... My heart suddenly started to pound loudly as I looked at the tube, and then at the man who was only now fifteen feet away. Was he badly injured... or dangerous? Did I really had to find out?
"Kaiya? You're okay?", called Takeshi, seeing that I had come to a halt and seemed to be rooted to the spot.
"Maybe", I answered again. But this time, all traces of playfulness were gone: my voice was shaking a bit.
Concerned, my cousin stepped down from cart and came to stand beside me. Noticing what I had in my hands, he took it from me and inspected it. I saw his blue eyes widen a bit, then he squinted them, his face settling into a serious resolve. He weighted the tube in his hand and swung it around a bit as if to test it. He told me to stay put, then walked quietly next to the man (who, we could now assume, was probably not an innocent sleeping beggar). Takeshi approached him behind what he assumed to be his back, waited a bit and finally gave a little push to the man with the metal tube. No reaction. Takeshi pushed him again. This time, there was a groan, followed by a pained gasp, but no aggressive reaction. Shrugging, my cousin told me I could come closer, if I wanted.
"Even if this guy is dangerous, he doesn't seem to be in any condition to be hurting anyone."
Trying to calm my racing heart, I started to walk again. As I got closer the two men, odours assailed my nostrils: blood, powder, smoke, sweat... I tried to reassure myself. "If this guy's health is anywhere near his smell, I suppose Takeshi's right when he says he wouldn't be able to hurt me", I thought.
When I finally reached them, my cousin grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It gave me back some of my habitual resolve. I asked him to get the lantern back in the cart and to light it so I could take a good look at my patient. I took a deep breath to steady myself, winced when I remembered the particular perfume that emanated from the wounded man, and kneeled beside him. He was on his left side in an almost foetal position, with his back facing me. The clothes he wore, some kind of tunic with a military-looking vest, looked like they originally were different shades of brown and beige, but were now stained with so much blood they looked almost black. A brown aviator cap, complete with a big pair of goggles, covered a shock of longish red hair. I leaned over the body a bit to take a look at his face, which seemed to be permanently scrunched up in pain. I'm not really good at judging people's age, but I was pretty sure he was older than me. Since I'm nineteen, I'd take a wild guess and say he seemed to be in his mid-twenties.
Shaking my head a bit to try to clear it, I told Takeshi, who just came back with the lit lantern that he deposited on the ground, to take a gentle hold of his head and told him to follow my movements; we proceeded to turn the man on his back. I pried his vest and tunic open and I immediately started by a quick inspection to assess what needed immediate medical care. I was completely shocked by what I found. This guy was a complete mess. There was a deep gash on his right cheekbone, multiple superficial wounds and haematomas on his chest and abdomen and a serious injury on his left side that seemed older than the others but still needed treatment because of the lack of a proper care. But the worse of his injuries was his right leg: from a little above the knee to all the way down, it was completely shattered. He even had two open fractures. Well, at least, the state of his leg explained the presence of the metal tube: he probably used it as a cane.
As I reached down to move the leg of his pants up a bit to have a better look at his knee's condition, he let out a long grunt of pain that took me by surprise. I yelped and let go of his knee, astounded. How he could still be conscious after all this was way beyond me. Moreover, how he could have made it from who knows where to here, on this road, was unbelievable. Hell, how he was still simply alive was a pure miracle.
I leaned over him again, staring at his face. His eyes opened, and I found myself staring into his beautiful brown eyes, clouded with pain, all sorts of pain. His face relaxed a bit when he saw me and he even let a gentle, yet sad smile grace his chapped lips.
"I'm... forgiven, then?", he breathed softly.
"Not sure what you should be forgiven for, but if you're in this state because of some sort of payback, I'm pretty sure you can be forgiven anything", I answered a bit shrilly, still unnerved by his sudden consciousness.
He let out a dry chuckle and coughed some blood. "Well, I get t-to... go to paradise... after all... and I've even got... an... an angel to get me there, and... she even makes j-jokes... Lucky me..."
All this talk about angels and paradise sounded too much like death to me. That kicked me back into action. I started to tear apart his clothes and mine to try to make some fortune bandages and get him out of here. I started to ramble. "Nope, no angel here for you. Only a medic. But I'm pretty skilled, if I say so myself. So, lucky you indeed, and try again for another chance to get to paradise."
"Don't think... so...", he rasped out. "So, this is it... eh? I've f-finally paid out... my debt, so I... I get to go..."
"Not yet... Not yet. You don't get to die on my watch. What debt are you talking about?", I asked, as I tried to patch him up as best as I could so we could move him and bring him back to the village to treat him properly. Keeping him talking was good. It meant he didn't die on me yet.
"To my... comrades. I can f-finally give them... my... l-life..." His voice held such sorrow...
"Why would you want to do that?" "Keep him talking. Try to work fast. Gods, I can feel the precariousness of the situation start to pressurize me... Stay focused. Stay focused!", I thought desperately.
"S-so they can... forgive me." He suddenly grabbed my arm, stopping me. "What... what are you... doing?"
I shook my arm from his grip and started to work on his mangled body again. "Saving you, silly man."
He frowned, as if my words didn't make any sense to him. "But... I... I'm beyond... s-saving... I don't... deserve... t-to be..."
"Of course you deserve it. I've got you, now, so you're already saved." I said with a fiery conviction. With those words, I tied one last piece of fabric over his right thigh, to stop the blood for flowing down his injured leg. He let out a strangled yell and fainted.
And as I looked at him, I knew without a doubt that I would do everything I could to heal this broken man.
So... first chapter! Woot! Thank you for reading! (Is it me or my introduction to the story seems as long as the chapter itself?... Oh, well...) I won't update for a few days for sure, because I haven't written any other chapters yet and I've got some pretty busy days ahead of me. But I'll try to get back to it as soon as possible.
Also, I thought I could make an illustration for each chapter (I really am better at drawing than writing...) What do you think?
Anyway, I could really use some feedback on this, so your reviews would be much, much appreciated! I would love you all passionately until the end of time.