A Late Night Conversation
Written by Bligy
...
Disclaimer: S'not mine.
Summary: Every few months, there was a raid on the Saica faction. Every few months the same questions were asked, and every few months, it was put off for another few months.
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearing, nothing else, really.
Pairings: Masamune/Magoichi
Author's Note: So... my friend and I marathoned the game in a week or so, and I came to fall in love with Masamune (who didn't?). Further, I absolutely adored all the cutscenes with him an Magoichi, and then decided to bend history... because really, what else is Basara for?
...
There was something to be said, he supposed, about courting one's death. It was a dangerous, adrenaline-fuelled experience that one could only experience so many times in their life before death finally caught up to them… well, at least for most people, he supposed. His lord had always been a lucky son of a bitch.
Bullets flew in his general direction, so he side-stepped and noted that the woman who shot them cast him a small smirk, as though she'd sent those bullets his way in a challenge – and for all he knew she had.
His lord drew his sword at this point and the two of them took to blasting and slashing for a few seconds, eyes for only each other, before tapping their selected metallic death-traps and staring at one another.
"Hey," she said, her voice as mild and haunting as ever.
"Hey," his Lord returned.
And that was that.
"I'll be going this way," Kojuro stated, watching them half-heartedly for a minute before walking back to their waiting army – and the vast majority of the Saica who were currently in captivity.
"Injure as few as possible, kill none. Take captives… we'll add it to our list of shit to brag about when we get there. Get your guns on boys, because they're sure as hell going to have theirs! LET'S GO!"
His Lord: the master of eloquence.
"Are we allowed to go free yet?" one of the captive men asked, shuffling uneasily under Kojuro's stare.
"Not until they're finished negotiating," Kojuro explained with a shrug, and the man sighed restlessly.
"Every couple of months you bastards show up, surprise attack us, scare the fuck out of our new recruits, capture most of our forces, keep us captive for a few days, and then disappear again. What the hell are you doing here?" the man groaned, his tired eyes suggesting that he'd probably been with the Saica for a year or two and had been through a number of these so-called 'invasions', only to realize that it was damned near pointless to attack the blue flags – Masamune Date was far too experienced to be felled by a few bullets.
Kojuro debated saying anything, but figured that Magoichi would probably slaughter him if he even so much as opened his mouth. Instead, he sighed and smiled wearily.
"You'll understand when you're older," he muttered out and walked off, to where their base was just a little ways out. "Change guard every few hours, don't listen to their talking… gag them if they're too chatty."
"Yes, sir!" one of the lieutenants chanted back and Kojuro entered into the tent that he would normally be sharing with Masamune, but would most likely be snoozing in by himself until tomorrow when he'd have to go scrape his Lord off the cold grass outside of Magoichi's hut in the early hours of the morning.
…
"So you've seen your rival recently, then?" she asked, pouring amber liquid into a glass.
She was wearing her normal clothing – a 'shirt' that showed off more skin than it covered, sleeves that were more armor than cloth, material tucked into a belt that covered one leg and… not much else. It would have been distracting, perhaps, to one who hadn't been oogling it since its early design on a girl who had yet to turn into a woman.
"He's still just a brat," Masamune sighed, staring at her ass for a few seconds more before looking up into eyes that were glaring at him with just a bit too much amusement to be serious.
"Single or double?" she asked, already pouring herself a triple.
"I'll match you tonight," he shrugged.
"You're not on your home turf, and I don't feel particularly gentle tonight," she warned, already pouring the triple. She knew him too well to think that a threat would actually change the mind of Masamune Date. "Why are you here?"
"Eh," he groaned, leaning forward to grab his glass and swallow most of it in one go.
"With the war going on, I thought you'd be too busy to keep up this little game," she continued and he checked her body to make sure that wasn't some sort of female-trigger in the ways of 'you haven't been paying attention to me'. Magoichi wasn't exactly much of a girl most of the time, but she was one hell of a woman, and forgetting that had gotten him more holes than he'd like to admit in his clothing.
"I'm never too busy for old friends," he brushed off, pleased to note that she didn't reach for her ever-threatening thigh-holster which carried all of her specially-designed two-barreled magnums.
"Mmm, I guess that we're the only kind you have left," she stated, her voice even and smooth, like she wasn't picking at his life style. What a bitch. "After all, it seems everyone you're meeting now has become a rival… or a temporary beating bag before removal."
"Hard times, Magoichi. I haven't heard of you making all too many friends, either," Masamune returned, and there was an awkward moment as they both recalled the past few years and attempted to right themselves back to the future.
"I didn't exactly join this faction for the sake of building lasting relationships," she returned.
"Don't I know it," he shot right back, and the awkward silence resumed as they both finished off their first glasses.
"I hear that Shingen is ill, is he going to recover?" she asked after another minute or two.
"Don't have a clue. I'm not exactly talking whenever I enter into the Takada's clutches," Masamune said, tracing his fingers on the edge of his glass.
"Can't keep up a civilized conversation?" she inquired as she topped up their glasses.
"Something like that," he answered with a smirk, attempting to keep his thoughts away from his last fight with the 'Tiger of Kai's' apprentice. Yukimura still had much to learn, but when he did… perhaps, just perhaps, Masamune could meet his match… well, except for…
His eyes traced back over to the woman across from him as she sipped her alcohol casually.
"Given any thought to abandoning this way of life yet, Magoichi?" he asked her, the pink elephant in t he corner of their tent finally being addressed.
"Have you captured Japan yet?" she asked, not looking at him but not closing him out, either.
"I'm getting closer. You should start designing your kimono… I'm sure it'll be… revealing of your character," he said, snickering slightly and taking another sip of his drink.
"Hardly," she snorted, glaring and taking another sip of her drink in a most un-ladylike fashion.
"Perhaps we'll have to rename you though… what part of your name would you like to keep? Magohime? Ichihime?" he couldn't hold back his laughter and had to clutch at his side to prevent his guffawing from causing even worse of a stitch in his side.
"One more word…" she growled.
"Or maybe change your name in its entirety? Megohime has a nice ring to it," he stated, wiping the tears of mirth from his one eye a he recovered.
The first shot shattered his glass, the next tilted his helmet on his head.
Masamune dove forward, shoving her gun from her hand and toppling them both in a tipsy pile to the ground.
"You promised me… you promised me half a decade ago, and we're not getting any younger," he reminded her, pinning her ruthlessly.
Magoichi was a powerful woman, her strength in marksmanship only rivaled by her strength of character. She was however, still a woman, and couldn't over-power a man twice her size, still dressed in his black battle armor.
"Once you hold up your end of the bargain—" she didn't get much further before he'd kissed her, finding it the most effective way of shutting her up.
He felt her hands on his shoulders seconds before his helmet was shoved off so she could lace her fingers in his, admittedly-filthy, hair. He returned the favor and gentled his kiss, his own fingers finding his way to her hair so he could tilt her head for better access.
"When you made that bargain, I never once agreed to it. For better or worse… whoever the hell wins this, I want you to marry me," he growled at her. "Once this war is over—"
And that's as far as he got before her leg did something interesting and he lost the will to speak anymore.
…
It was just before dawn when Kojuro found himself getting that feeling that he should be out looking for his Lord. He yawned, having only slept a few hours, and stumbled out into the night. He didn't bother with his full armor, only taking his, and his Lord's, swords with him and tromping through the night.
When he got to the central hut an hour or so later, he was surprised to see Masamune fully awake, apparently uninjured, and relatively sober. Magoichi was beside him, wearing a robe to fend away the chill of the evening – perhaps he should have brought one for his Lord, but it slipped his mind… he hadn't really expected the man to even be conscious.
"No holes, I see… well, new ones, at least," Kojuro nodded, eyeing Magoichi suspiciously.
"Not this time," Masamune agreed, turning to stare pointedly at Magoichi who merely stared back unwaveringly.
"It's time to go, my Lord. We… don't have that much time," Kojuro warned the man, before turning and walking a little ways away, to give them some illusion of privacy. Unfortunately, he could still hear their every word.
"Just a few months," Masamune's rough voice carried on the silent evening's breeze. "Don't be in a position where I have to fight you."
"It could make things interesting," she returned, her voice strangely softer than most times he'd heard it previously.
"Life's interesting already, and it's only going to get more so," the words were so soft that Kojuro wouldn't have heard them, or the soft ruffle of clothing and a gasp that came after. In some ways, he wished he hadn't heard it. It just reminded him of what was waiting for him at home. From the sounds of it, Masamune would be getting to know that sweet pain some time soon as well… although considering his woman of choice, she may just follow him into his battles – Saica at the ready.
"Let's go," Masamune said, walking past him without stopping and Kojuro fell into step beside him, not needing to look behind him to know that she was watching them intently, probably both hoping and dreading that not-so-distant day in the future when Masamune would finally make good on the promise from so-many years ago.