Conquering the Heart
(A Samurai Warriors 2 fanfiction; I do not own anything but my original characters.)


The Foreboding Moon

There is no rest for the weary in a land where war consumes the weak and allows the strong to grow even stronger. Where there is greed and deception, death and suffering was sure to follow in existance. The problem -most people assume- lies in the darkness that lingers inside the hearts of the power hungry. Opportunities are not hard to come by and given the right moment, inhibitions emerge with a steady pace, overshadowing every other morally right emotion and thought. Logic twists and turns until what your heart truly desires becomes concrete. The manipulation of human weakness, the waging of both physical and psychological war, the ridicule of honor; it's all too easy to be the sinister villain in a story that never ends, even if one's motives were far from what most would assume.

Still, there were the brave ones that shine the brightest when faced with suffocating adversities. Simply put, they were much more comfortable standing out like a lantern in the night than stars in broad daylight. Whether it was masochism or ego, it didn't matter. So long as the people suffered less and weapons stayed where they were supposed to stay; in cupboards and closets.

In all truth and reality, there was more to war than just waving a sword around or shooting arrows at opposite colored-clad enemies. In that sense, there's more to being a despicable warlord than, apparently, allowing your judgment to rule over everyone else's. A cocoon will never tell you what kind of butterfly would hatch from it until the time is right and it comes into sight for everyone to see. War and battle are fickle, like two threads intertwining with the rest of the world. Only as time passes will anyone know what will be the outcome.

Which is longer? The thread of battle or the thread of war?


"Going for tea at this hour? It's quite late, you know,"

He shrugged and continued his walk towards the kitchens. When he heard a second pair of feet trudging along the smooth floors of the mansion, Masamune sighed and turned to face his unwanted companion.

"You said it yourself, it's late. Stop following me."

Though he replied with a little more force than intended, Masamune Date did not opt to wait for a comeback and, instead, resumed his march for a well-deserved rice ball and hot jasmine tea. His nerves pulled along the crevices of his patience as the pair of feet continued to echo his own. Thankfully, he reached his destination before his temper got the best of him. Opening the large wooden doors lined with reinforced steel, the eldest son of Terumune Date dragged himself towards numerous cupboards and dug out a porcelain teacup and leftover rice balls from dinner. He ignored his guest.

"Aren't you going to offer me some, Botenmaru?"

His hands fidgeted for a slight second, but the sudden jerk of his wrist seemed like a blur as he gulfed down two rice balls in less than five minutes. His forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows furrowed.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" he swallowed roughly and grabbed his cup. Sighing, he stood up and placed a kettle to boil on an already heating stone stove. He heard another downy chuckle before turning back to his rice balls, where Masamune dutifully noted one was missing.

"Give it back," he demanded aggressively, the wrinkles in his forehead subsequently returning.

"Bfut ifts alfredy inf my mfouth," The man, donning a loose yukata and a pair of worn out slippers, coughed and gently prodded his throat with three fingers. Masamune raised an eyebrow and sat down cross-legged on the floor. He could almost hear the water boiling from where he was sitting.

"You're an idiot."

He gulped down the rice ball successfully and grinned. "I know. You're not too bright yourself, so I suppose this is a case of 'It takes one to know one'."

Despite the lid of the kettle near-bursting from the heat and pressure of the stove, Masamune ignored it and rubbed the back of his head with irritation. He just wouldn't let anything go, would he?

"Look," he started, while balancing his movements in order to safely transfer the water from the kettle to his teacup. "I didn't want this. All I wanted was to take over the clan when father admits I'm more than ready!" The water spilled unto his lap, causing Masamune to hiss out loud.

The man was next to him in a flash, wiping the water with a cloth that came out of nowhere. He shook his head while slowly levering his arm to grab the kettle that only filled half of Masamune's cup.

"It's not about what you want Boten--" Masamune glared. The man coughed, and continued. "Masamune. Your father is doing what's best for the Date clan. Even you can't change that."

He groaned.

"Yes I can! I'm the eldest! I'm the one who'll succeed father! Why won't they listen to what I want?" He stood straight and removed the outermost layer of clothing that had gotten wet from the spillage, revealing only a thin layer of yukata underneath. Masamune angrily stuffed another rice ball into his mouth and chewed with conviction, finishing his late dinner down with a huge swig of tea.

"They always listen to my brother, but never to me! I swear, I think mother hates me. Ever since..."

The hand that sloppily wiped what remained of his food away from his chin fell back down with a sluggishness that indicated something much more than fatigue and satisfaction. His voice trailed off as he finished his sentence, which surprised yet was expected for the other man in the room. It was a sensitive topic for everyone in the mansion, most especially for the young boy who suffered it.

"She doesn't hate you," he answered quietly, softly. "She's just getting used to it, that's all." The engravings on the walls suddenly became interesting.

When he heard nothing but the subtle sounds of grasshoppers chirping outside, he took it as a cue to continue. Wringing the cloth with his hands, he added,

"She's...scared, really. I'm sure she is. It was all too unexpected--"

Masamune's fists banged against the wall with a shocking force that was sure to leave his knuckles sore and bruised in the morning. The man's eyes widened and he jumped slightly from surprise. Although the shadow of the cupboards covered most of Masamune's body, he was sure what his expression was.

Utter disgust.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he shouted. "What the hell do you know? You don't know what my mother is feeling, what anyone is feeling, what I'm feeling, so shut up!"

Every intonation in every word in every sentence, Masamune shouted with ferocity and indignity. His fists were a little more than abused at the moment, as he rapidly hit the wall over and over again, accumulating his energy into one big bang right after he finished his tantrum.

The one man witness to his attack picked up the sound of his body sliding down the floor. Pity engulfed his chest. It wasn't the boy's fault that he had small pox. It wasn't what he wanted, it wasn't what he needed, most certainly it wasn't something Masamune anticipated.

The silence that followed his abrupt outburst was a long one. It seemed like the crickets and grasshoppers that lived near thick bushes and long blades of grass were singing and chirping up symphonies that only added to the choking sadness that rapidly filled the room. Young Masamune was crushed when he woke up one morning missing his right eye. His brother was the only one who talked to him, but even then his feelings were nothing but bitterness and anger. Why him? Why strike the boy with the biggest dreams? He almost wanted to drown himself beneath his pillow when his own mother refused to look at him. Even he didn't want to look at himself.

For once in his childhood, Masamune looked weak.

Training became difficult after he recovered from his fever. His blindside hindered him from performing attacks and counterattacks he used to execute with perfection beforehand. He harshly tallied how many times he fell when he sparred with his father and brother. Ten times they trained, ten times he fell with disgrace and shame.

How would he rule now? How could he conquer the Oda? The Imagawa? The Hosokawa? What now?

Yuhi heaved a heavy breath and walked at a snail's pace towards the crestfallen boy. He was one of the few people who figured out that Masamune's ego was partly a facade. He was afraid of people thinking he was weak, so he covered himself in a wall of lies and self-assurance. He was that determined to rule the clan -to rule Japan, in fact- that he sacrificed comfort for confidence.

It didn't help that he was going to get married in three weeks.

Yuhi placed two calloused hands unto Masamune's tiny shoulders and heaved him upwards, forcing his feet to support him. He was taken aback by the gesture, but quietly appreciated it and stood up straight in no time. He turned to face his most loyal servant, tears threatening to fall. Masamune sniffed.

"I won't cry." he sternly said. "I won't cry." he repeated, louder and harder. Yuhi nodded and patted his back.

"I know you won't kid," his hand gripped the back of his shoulder tighter, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "You're stronger than that, right?"

Masamune's eye shifted downwards and, without warning, bore holes into Yuhi's own. His face contorted into a determined expression.

"Of course I am. I'm just sleepy, is all."

Yuhi's smirk turned into a wide grin. He slapped Masamune's back harder, causing him to fall forward almost completely, and stepped around the room to gather the kettle, the cup and the empty plate of rice balls. Leaning down the floor, he cleaned it meticulously.

In the light of the moon, Yuhi glanced at the thick white strip of cloth that covered a large part of the right side of his face. He grimaced inwardly. It was true that Masamune was strong. How could he not be when he had to face the hurt and the pain of his family nearly shunning him out because of his one weakness? But then again, Yuhi had to reprimand himself. He wasn't helping Masamune realize the truth. He was only building up what would eventually grow to be one hell of an ego.

Yuhi, who was the perpetual pillar of strength to Masamue, ignored the little voice in his head and finished cleaning while the young lord stared outside the large window on the wall. Throwing away what needed to be thrown, he walked over to Masamune and signaled for him to go bed. No one needed to know what happened that night, he added with fervor.

Just as he was about to go first, the ever devoted servant of the Date clan was stopped by the swift change in Masamune's voice. He turned back.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

"I said idiot," His voice seemed to revert back to its usual cockyness, but retreated as quick as it came. Yuhi approached the windowsill once more and listened intently to what his young master was about to tell him. It was safe to say that he had no idea how serious things have gotten.

"I'll rule this land one day." Masamune said, leaning all of his weight on his palms. His good eye was focused keenly on the night sky, with all of the clouds dispersing with the cold autumn winds. Only when Yuhi walked closer did he realized Masamune was looking at the moon and not the sky.

"And when I do," he continued, his voice unwavering and full of passion. "I'll be sure to include you in my top-most generals." Masamune changed direction of his gaze and turned to him.

"You'll accept my offer, right?"

Yuhi suppressed a light giggle and coughed in order to cloak his amusement. It seemed wrong of him to think Masamune was only saying things in the spur of the moment, but his amusement disappeared like lightning. He, of all people, knew that when Masamune was determined on something, he won't rest until he gets what he wants.

"I don't know how to fight like you and your dad do, kid," he answered shyly, rubbing his scalp with dirty fingernails. "I'm not sure if I'll contribute anything to your council."

Masamune made a dismissive sound and turned back to the moon, its glow reaching the bright brown irises of his young master. The shape tonight was huge and spherical, a full moon. Yuhi's eyes narrowed at how big it seemed, as if you could touch it if you reached far enough.

"I could teach you. You'd be learning from a master swordsman!" A smile started to form on his lips.

"We'd take on millions of soldiers together! Side by side!" His smile became a grin, and Yuhi found himself grinning with him. He had no one else to tell these kinds of things to. He had no one else to spend the latest of nights with. He had no one else to promise things as empty as defeating countless soldiers together. If this was the one thing Yuhi could do to ease his master's mind, then he would allow himself to play along, even though he knew how ruthless reality could be.

"That sounds really convincing," he replied cockily. Yuhi put his hands on his hips and stared at the moon. Was it him, or was the moon a little blueish?

"You know what," Yuhi added. "I think I'll take you up on that offer. I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen, right?" Masamune's grin grew wider and wider until his teeth lit up with joy. He faced Yuhi excitedly, his youthfulness a source of entertainment for a servant who's given no choice.

"You really mean it?" he exclaimed. Yuhi ruffeld his hair and nodded.

"Of course I do! Why else would I say that if I didn't?"

Masamune closed his eyes and laughed. Though Yuhi blinked back in surprise at his outcry, he let loose and laughed with him. He needed a dreamer to dream with.

He stopped after a few minutes of pointless merry-making. "What about that girl you're supposed to marry in a few weeks?" he brought up. Masamune's face fell to a frown.

"Who cares about her? She's probably some lame person who only wants to marry me for our money and stuff." He continued to gloat in his dreams until Yuhi pulled him and forced him to look directly into his gaze.

"W-What's your problem?" he complained. It was Yuhi's turn to crease his forehead in frustration. Ignoring Masamune's writhing and twisting, he started to articulate his thoughts carefully.

"Don't judge things like this too quickly, kid." he said. "What if she turns out to be a great person? You'll be eating your words before you know it." Masamune scoffed at the idea.

"Ha! Me? Eat my words?" he repeated mockingly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I don't think so."

Yuhi sighed exasperatedly. He had to teach him to let others in. He wouldn't have guessed that a saving grace would appear so fast. He'll take whatever he could find, he told himself. After all, he wouldn't be around forever.

"All I'm saying is," he continued. "To give this girl a chance. She's only a year younger than you, and you're only thirteen."

In retrospect, Yuhi already knew why Masamune was so reluctant to marry. Not only did he not know the girl, it was his incessant fear of being judged and mistreated that kept pulling him back. He was an easy read if you got to know him long enough. Perhaps he was to blame for his wall of mendacity, but Yuhi was torn in two directions.

Plus, he was ordered directly by Masamune's father to coax him to subtly agree.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Masamune forcefully replied. "She's going to be lame and stupid and an imbecile and we're never going to get along. I'm only doing this so that I'll have a safe ticket to being ruler of the clan."

Yuhi shrugged eventually and let Masamune go from his snake like grip. He was tenacious and stubborn, but he said it himself. The boy was young. Only time would tell if things work out.

"Anyway," Yuhi stood up, brushed the dirt from his knees and walked out the door. "You better get going. It's really late and you need to get up early tomorrow for your riding lessons."

"I already know how to ride a horse, don't mock me."

"I know, I know. But you need practice. You know that."

Masamune trudged along the hallways and ran towards the other end. Before leaving, he waved to Yuhi and said as hushed as he could muster, "Whatever. Night, idiot!"

Yuhi waved in return, closing the doors to the kitchen. Masamune Date was a handful to take care of, but there was something in his gut that told him he would be great one day. One day, the wall he built around himself to make sure he achieved what he needed - what he wanted to - would fall, and it would fall for the better. One day, he'll learn to see the bigger picture. One day, he'll accept his weaknesses and say he's only human.

Yuhi reached the far end of the hallway and took one last glance at the moon, in all its ethereal glory floating in the sky. That arranged marriage was the last thing the young master needed to clear his thoughts, but maybe this was a test for him?

If he was the only person who understood Masamune, then he had no doubt in his heart that he would grow up to be very lonely.


A/N: Yuhi is an OC I made up for this story. There are no historical references for a person named Yuhi that served the Date clan. Chapter 2 will be coming soon-ish. READ AND REVIEW guys. I'll get somewhere with this, I swear.