Cold Justice

The meeting had been in session for eight hours now.

Creeping through the slats that separated the roof panels from the draughty lofts over his head, the six year old boy scrambled and wriggled himself into a more comfortable alcove, pressing his hands hard against the wood as he squinted through the slight gap in the craftsmanship.

He had often used this place as his secret hideout, whenever his nurses wanted him for something unpleasant like a bath or, more usually, to finish his morning studies. Yet today it was a completely different reason that had drawn him to his favourite vantage point within the expansive Kyouraku manor.

That day, after all, a visitor had come to the estate.

Shunsui had never met his Uncle before, but from the finery of his clothing and the sharp, impatient way he had spoken to his retainers, the small boy had quickly realised that he was as different to his lazy, indolent father as night was from day. Even inside his six year old brain, Shunsui was wise enough to understand that this was part of the reason family reunions between the brothers had always been few and far between. After all, he had reasoned to himself, with impeccable infant logic, his father had scarcely spent two minutes in the same room as him since the moment he was born. And though no one had ever said it to his face, Shunsui's sharp ears were quick enough to hear the whispers of the serving maids as they went about their daily duties.

Matsuhara, Lord of the Kyouraku estate, had no interest in or time for either his lady wife, or the son that she had birthed him on that summer's night, six years before.

Yet Shunsui did not hate his father. Rather, the man was a shadow who existed on the periphery of his understanding, flitting in and out like a ghost at all hours of the day or night. In fact, there had only ever been one time that Shunsui had been angry with his father for his bad behaviour.

It had been his birthday, two years before, and it had been the first time he had seen his mother cry.

Even though he was only six years old, Shunsui had had enough presence of mind to realise that the sudden coming of his Uncle was neither coincidence or likely to be on an innocent errand. The black cloud that had hung heavily around the man's aura as he had stalked stiffly inside, pausing only to pass his cloak to a waiting servant had pierced through Shunsui's young senses like a knife, and the boy had quickly decided that keeping out of the way was the safest strategy. Yet even so, his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

And so, within the crevices of his favourite hiding place, he had concealed himself, watching the grown ups below him as they paced and argued and reasoned with one another over things that he did not understand.

Occasionally words such as 'Gotei' and "Family responsibility" drifted up towards him, but although Shunsui knew that it had some connection to the dusty silver sword that hung over his father's desk, he did not really grasp the importance of the conversation. His father had never once taken the weapon down from its perch, after all. In fact, most of the times Shunsui had seen his father, the man had been too inebriated to even recognise his own son. Shunsui was used to being called a variety of different names, and for simplicity's sake he had long since stopped trying to make corrections. There was, after all, no point.

Shunsui was not the kind of child who wasted time and energy on pointless ventures.

He shifted against the wood, wishing that the adults would finish their conversation soon. He was hungry now, and whatever his interest had been earlier, now it was waning as the day drew on into the late afternoon. Yet he did not leave his post, afraid that even the slightest attempt to do so would alert someone to his presence. Even at six, Shunsui knew eavesdropping was a Bad Thing - and he had no mind to take a whipping from his father's houseman to uphold that fact.

Though with the glint in his Uncle's eye, Shunsui half expected that the houseman's ministerings would be preferable to anything his kinsman could produce.

He peered through the crack once again, his gaze taking in the thin form of his father slouched at his desk, gazing at his brother with empty, hollow eyes as the younger man ranted and raved, waving his hands to illustrate his point. How his Uncle knew so many words, let alone how to string them together at such speed for such a long time, Shunsui did not know. All he knew was that it seemed his Uncle had barely stopped to draw breath since the doors had been locked earlier that morning, and his father had barely even tried to speak in his own defence.

If he hadn't known better, Shunsui would have thought that it was his Uncle, and not his father at all who held full sway over the Kyouraku family estate.

In the chamber below, a sudden shift in spiritual energy sent a shockwave through Shunsui's unprepared body, and he flinched as if struck by something hot, stiffening as his attention was drawn back to the confrontation. Something had changed, he realised. The men were no longer talking, and yet, even from so high above them, Shunsui could clearly feel the prickling of electricity in the chamber, tension rising with every passing second.

With one sweeping movement, his Uncle had grabbed the shelved sword from its resting place, tossing it down on the desk in front of his father with a sharp command that Shunsui could not quite make out. His father had gazed at the weapon blankly for a moment, then back up at his brother before slowly shaking his head. This only served to enrage the uncle further, for the younger man banged his fist down on the polished oakwood, agitation in his every movement.

"This family will come to ruin because of your licentious acts!" Now the man's voice was loud enough for Shunsui to hear every word clearly. "You are destroying this clan from the inside, Oniisama! I will not stand for it - no, the clan will not stand for it any more!"

He banged his hand down again for further emphasis.

"For eight years we've let it go, but it cannot go on!" He said darkly. "I find it impossible to believe you are unable to see the shame that creeps over our family day by day thanks to your actions. Your elder son and heir is being raised by a rival clan, since you've apparently absolved yourself of a father's responsibility. Your younger son is let loose to do as he pleases around this estate, without any thought to form or education! Your actions and behaviour threaten your Gotei position and ridicule your rank as one of the Eight Great Nobles, Matsuhara - and we will not be the laughing stock of Seireitei any longer!"

There was a moment of silence, as Shunsui's father gazed at his sword again. He said something too quiet for Shunsui to hear, and the Uncle snorted.

"A noble does not have that kind of attitude." He snapped, derision in his tones. "You are a man of this estate! A man, not a boy with a penchant for wild games! You have a duty - a duty to everyone! Take up your sword and acknowledge it before me - or I swear, I will beat it into you myself!"

Shunsui realised at that moment that he really did not like his Uncle very much.

Slowly and unsteadily, Matsuhara got to his feet, grasping the hilt of his sword loosely in his right hand as he used his left to steady himself against the desk. With a lightning fast flick of his wrist, the Uncle's blade was in that man's own grip, sweeping with a glitter of light through the air and even in his hiding place Shunsui felt the brisk breeze of reiatsu that swept through the atmosphere.

A cold chill gripped the boy's heart as he understood the meaning behind their gestures.

They were going to fight.

Shunsui sat frozen to the spot, watching almost numbly as the others in the room stepped back, allowing the two men to face one another head on. None of them made any move to prevent the brothers from meeting swords, and Shunsui felt a sick sensation curl itself up inside of him as he realised that no one meant to intervene. That his Uncle, who had come from so far away wearing such fine clothing had truly come here to challenge his brother for leadership of the Kyouraku clan.

And, if need be, it would be a fight unto death.

For the first time in his young life, Shunsui was truly afraid.

He knew, for many, many people had said it, that his father was a useless, drunken, waste of space of a man. He knew that Matsuhara was a virtual stranger to him, and that even when the man was home, rare were the times that Father and son met. Yet something in that cold resolve to kill or be killed penetrated even the deepest recesses of the boy's infant heart, and he knew in that instant that, useless as his father was, he had never seen the man try to kill anyone.

In fact, he knew, for his mother had told him, that his father had always hated conflict.

"He has vices enough to fill all the Eight Noble Houses." She had said once, when he had overheard her speaking to her chief maid in waiting. "Yet somehow I forgive him, Funayo. I forgive him because I know that his duty has destroyed him. This clan has destroyed him. Becoming head of the family and one of the Gotei's chosen broke any spirit he ever had inside of him. It's not me he's running from, nor Shunsui. It's himself. Himself and the duty his family have shackled him to. So I cry for him. But I cannot hate him for it."

Shunsui had pondered on those words for a long time without understanding them. Yet in that moment, he understood them, as he saw the glimmer of true pain in his father's brown eyes.

And he also knew that, useless and weak as his father might be, Shunsui did not want him to die.

He clenched together his tiny fists in despair and anger, emotions welling up inside of him as he watched the two nobles circle each other like hunting wolves, one tired and lacklustre, the other bristling with indignant energy.

Whatever this Gotei was, it was surely something terrible.

A terrible thing that had made his Uncle want to kill his father.

And then, in the briefest of instants, it was over. A flood of spiritual energy flared across the chamber, almost paralysing Shunsui's infant senses, then, just as suddenly it was gone, leaving the air empty and flat behind it. Desperately Shunsui gathered his wits, pulling his attention back to the chamber below, and his tiny heart almost stopped in his chest as he interpreted the scene below.

His father lay motionless on the floor, a small pool of blood beginning to spread out around his still body.

Over him, his weapon still glistening with the glow of fresh blood, Shunsui's Uncle stood, breathing hard, his expression a mixture of ice and resolution.

"For the sake of the Kyouraku, Oniisama, nothing else but your blood was acceptable." Shunsui heard him say, over the pulse-beat that seemed to be echoing fit to explode inside of his ears. "For your son's sake and the future of this clan, I'll take over everything. You can have your peace, after all. And I'll bring the Clan back to where it should be."

He turned, beckoning to one of his retainers, who had stood motionless throughout the entire bloody confrontation.

"Kane, find Shunsui." He said evenly. "And also, send word to Yoshiko of her husband's passing. Tell her that from here on in, her duties regarding her son are at an end. As Matsuhara's blood brother, I intend claiming wardship of the boy myself, after all. And I'll see to it that he's educated in a way that befits a member of this clan, no matter what."