AN: This was actually written last night, but I only got to post it today. XD Also, if your name happens to be Doggeh and you are English, this is what I was talking about when I said Ammy had "Magic Soap".
This chapter also contains reasons I feared in chapter one would get me chewed out for not being contemporary with Okami events. That's why it's called an AU, folks... Though there's nothing like cell phones or computers beyond anything Waka might make, so. XD It also may be part of the reason this was T rated even though there's nothing outright awful...
Ammy is usually motherly in here, considering my normal personality for her. She's usually so... tomboyish whereas here she's pretty darn gentle. XD Except for that one incident you'll see described here... Yeah. I reconcile it by saying Ammy's only motherly when the person is injured or whatever and still rougher around everyone else... and to the person she was motherly with after they recover. XD
Also, a little sort of game for you to figure out... Isshaku has not yet come into this story fully, though he shall be another major character in this. However, he does pop up, whether by name or by inference, five times in this chapter. Can you figure out all the references to him? One's a bit of foreshadowing, so don't be bothered if you can't guess that one. Don't say what they are in reviews, though, don't want to spoil anyone else's fun~!
When he awoke, he was no longer outside. Instead, he was in a small room, sitting back against a chair, which moved slightly as he raised himself up to look around. There was nothing to indicate, as the girl has said, "Hard labor", not even torture. Definitely not what he had anticipated, though he felt rather relieved. He let himself relax from the rigid position he had just been in, sinking against the soft fabric cushions. Just as suddenly as he leaned against them he shot back up with a cry of pain; his back felt on fire with infection and opened wounds. Turning his head as far as he dared, he sucked in his breath as he surveyed the cushions. They were stained with blood now, his blood, but that was not what worried him so much. He was, rather unfortunately, used to his blood leaving traces against something.
No. He was worried that when his master came in, woman or not, she was going to be considerably angry at him for bloodying up her furniture.
As his luck would have it, she came in right at that very second. Terror sparked through him, causing him to stiffen, and words blurted out he wished he could stop that very second. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stain the chair, I-"
A hand grasped his shoulder, fingertips brushing against his sensitive back, and he flinched, fearing the worst. Steady emerald eyes gazed into his blue ones, a rather reassuring gaze. "Hush. Calm down. Honestly, this chair has already received its fair share of bloodstains from other slaves rescued before you who needed even basic care before I dared do anything else."
Heart still beating abnormally fast, his panic calmed. If he was to be beaten, it was most certainly not now. Suddenly, the wolf girl's tail swished, and as if by magic, the ropes binding his wrists fell off. He glanced down at the severed ropes before looking back at her. Reassuring hand still pressed on his shoulder, she grinned. "The name's Amaterasu, if you want to know~ Most people just call me Ammy, though… I kinda prefer that, too."
He nodded stiffly. He didn't dare say anything himself, for fear that if he did he'd say something wrong. Besides, his earlier outburst reminded him how hoarse and dry his throat felt, and how much he didn't really want to say anything… "And your name is?"
He jerked back to reality, and once again he feared what to do next. He didn't want to speak, but if he didn't say anything, Amaterasu would probably get angry at him. "M-my name's Ushiwaka…" he mumbled finally. "B-but you can call me whatever you want!" he added hastily, voice cracking, as soon as he said this, in case maybe she didn't like that name. Ammy stared blankly at him. "Why would I call you something else…?" she asked, confused, and Ushiwaka nearly began to explain to her that most slave owners never called their slaves by their actual names when she cut him off. "Never mind. Oh! I almost forgot! Dangit, you must be parched!"
She suddenly rushed from the room, leaving Ushiwaka very confused and certainly worried. What had she gone to get? He needn't have worried, for she came back in a minute with a glass. "Isshaku got it for me already… What would I do without him…" she muttered absently before turning back to Ushiwaka. "Here, drink this, but not too quickly. We want you to have fluids in you, not make your stomach so upset you lose more."
Ammy walked over to him, still holding the glass. Wrapping an arm behind his neck for support, she pressed the glass against his lips. It was filled almost to the brim with water, and, partly in shock and partly because they were the fluids he was so desperately in need of, Ushiwaka opened his mouth. Water flowed in, a welcome feeling against the harsh dryness of his mouth. A moment passed, then another, as he tried to hold the liquid in as long as possible, then he swallowed. This process continued for a minute, then two, on to ten before he was able to sip the last drops of water from the glass. Even then, he was still thirsty, though admittedly he did not feel so dry that his throat would split open if he tried to speak much more. His body was still racked with fever, and his stomach protested at the onslaught of so much water but yet no food.
The gentle hands which had held him and made sure he was rehydrated left him suddenly, and blue eyes that had closed so briefly in those somehow relaxing minutes flew open again. Struggling to keep them from blurring and shutting again, he was not prepared to be suddenly lifted from the chair and thrown upwards like that. He gave a strangled cry as he flew, however briefly, into the air before landing safely down on Ammy's shoulder. She immediately grabbed hold of him, one hand against the back of his neck (he let out an involuntary shudder upon feeling it), and another stretched as far down as it dared, trying not to either touch his back or reach too far down at the risk of his greater discomfort. His breathing quickened yet again; where did she plan on taking him now? Ammy hurried out of the room, still carrying him, turning a corner and entering the first door to the right. There, she deposited him somewhat unceremoniously on the floor.
Ushiwaka took a glance around the room they were now in. It was a bathroom, complete with a rather large tub and a cherry-wood cabinet with a white counter and sink to top it. There were at least two small emerald rugs inside the room, one before the tub, and the other, upon which he now sat, just in front of the sink. The tub was filled to the brim with water, upon which sat layers of frothy bubbles it would be impossible, Ushiwaka thought, to see beneath them. The mirror over the sink had started to grow misty with the heat emanating from the water. A clean, fluffy, and presumably soft white towel was laid out on the sink, waiting to be put into service, and a pair of purple pants and a white ribbon, probably to be used as a belt, lay folded on the other side.
He gave Amaterasu a look bordering between confusion and panic, and probably verging on the latter. If she was going to make him do something like draw a bath, why was there already water in the tub? "Okay, I'm going to go outside a second, while you get ready and get into the tub, alright?"
His expression must have changed to horrified, for she continued, rubbing a hand against her forehead. "Honestly, I am not so perverted that I would watch you strip, and with all the bubbles in the tub, I can't see a thing. Stop worrying and get in."
With that, she turned about and hastily exited, door closing swiftly behind her. Ushiwaka could not help but thank her for the shreds of pride she tried to leave him with. Some of his previous masters had not been so kind… Gulping and shaking his head to clear it, he got into the tub, casting aside the… the rags that had been sewn together to form some sort of rough trousers. He relaxed, if just a tiny bit, at the warmth around him, how comfortable he was, despite the twangs of pain in his back from wounds protesting at contact with, of all things, soap. He heard Ammy speaking to someone outside, but if they replied and what it was she said, he did not know. The next second, the door opened, and Ammy walked in, tail swishing behind her.
Ushiwaka suddenly felt very self-conscious and very uncomfortable. Despite his back having been bare this entire time, he suddenly felt ashamed of how bloodied it looked, how scarred. He also feared what would happen now, somehow feeling especially vulnerable at the moment.
Yet again, he discovered that day, he needn't have worried. Amaterasu immediately busied herself, brushing away all strands of his golden hair from his back. She proceeded to place one hand across his chest, holding securely to prevent him from jerking suddenly as he tried to steadily move away from contact. Then, and this was what Ushiwaka anticipated least, she grabbed a bar of black soap and began rubbing it methodically against his back.
He expected pain, pain from soap which should have stung his already infected wounds, but there was not. There was only warmth, a trickling sensation, and then… relief. A feeling that somehow, he did not feel as sore and bruised as before. Ammy smirked knowingly, before progressing to his chest and arms. Then, she gave him the soap bar, biding him to finish washing himself off while she went to check on something. As he washed, he basked in the sudden sense of cleanliness that came to him, a feeling which he had lacked for oh so long. Ushiwaka thought he heard Ammy's voice again, followed by another voice, this time a male. He strained to listen, fearing that perhaps Ammy wasn't the leader of the household and it was another who held charge of the whip- but no. The voice sounded young, just about his age, and had an undertone of respect that led him to believe it wasn't a figure with more authority than Amaterasu- another slave?
She came back in, looking as if to suppress a huff of annoyance before continuing on to Ushiwaka's hair. His hair was another thing that worried him. Though it was coated with dirt and grease, it was, if taken care of, beautiful, long, silky, and smooth. It had been something long coveted by slave owners, but was now dull in comparison to when he first became a slave. Keeping it well kept, he remembered, involved proper shampooing, conditioning, brushing, and drying- at most, he'd only received shampoo and a combing.
He ended up wondering how many times he could be proven wrong in one night.
Not only was his hair shampooed, it was shampooed three times, each time bringing Ammy complaining about how horribly greasy it was and why one washing wasn't enough. Then, as if to again crush any worry, conditioner was applied, rubbed in, and washed out.
He glanced around him. The soap bubbles from the beginning still covered the view of anything inside the tub.
Looking completely satisfied, Ammy got up, staggering a little from the half hour spent on her knees washing his hair alone, and smiled. "Alright, then, I'll let you get your pants on, then I'll come back and bandage you up… Hopefully Isshaku or Issun can find you a shirt by then…"
She trailed off and exited, leaving Ushiwaka alone in the room. He clambered out of the tub, settling onto the fluffy towel she had conveniently spread out for him before leaving. It truly was as soft as it appeared, and he spent a few second just snuggled onto it before actually attempting to dry himself off, ever careful not to stain it with blood while trying to pat his back dry. He pulled on the pants, which were apparently fluffy on the inside and very soft, but also a bit big for him around the waist. He hurriedly tied them off with the ribbon, lest they fell further down, turning about and happening to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
He hastily pushed himself onto the counter, turning around and trying to comprehend what he saw. It was impossible, he told himself, wasn't it? He spared one glance at the door, worried Ammy might be mad he decided to take a peek at his back for himself or that if he glanced now, some sort of spell might be broken.
Then he turned back. He was right. The scars across his back had ceased to exist, the fresher, still opened wounds had scabbed over, and the ones that had previously been infected burned less, looking like ordinary, fresh cuts, not swollen or bearing any other indicators of being infected. He heard footsteps outside the door again and hastily pushed himself off and back onto the ground.
Once again, it was Amaterasu. This time, she bore with her some sort of pink thing draped over her one arm. She smiled at him, placing the thing on the counter, before sitting behind him. He willed every fiber of his being not to turn around and look at her, making sure she was not planning to harm him. A hand ran over his back, and he felt her beaming smile increase. "You've actually healed better than expected," she told him suddenly. His gaze turned to meet hers. "Eh?"
"That soap had healing powers. Didn't you notice your back wasn't as sore?" Ushiwaka refrained from commenting on this. "However, they only heal in accordance with however willing the person is to accept their powers. You struggled, shook under my gaze, panicked easily. I expected it wouldn't do much for you…"
His eyes widened. She had expected him to be almost like a lost cause… "H-has that even happened before?"
"Once."
She made no further comment, merely taking out the bandages and wrapping them tightly enough, not so tight they'd cut off circulation but not loosely either, around his body. She combed out his hair, brushed it again, and blew off all the dampness, not forcing him to get up in all that time. He hadn't realized, but he was still aching, still exhausted, and he truly wanted to sleep at that moment… anywhere, in all truth, would be fine. Finally, Ammy handed him the pink object from earlier. It was a shirt. "I know it's pink, and it's got those pom-poms on the front of it, but it's soft, and it's the first thing the Poncles found that looked like it'd fit you," she explained.
For Ushiwaka, who had not experienced the warmth and protection of a shirt since becoming a slave, it was pure bliss.
