The General and the Assassin Chapter - 7
Falling
Even though Hiroshi had been given a bottle of saké to sooth his wounded pride, his burdened heart... he barely touched it. He tried a couple of sips of the bitter drink, right from the bottle and then returned it to the trunk from where it came.
He wasn't much of a drinker. He never was.
Hiroshi had been trying to sew the Imperial Army's torn clothing attentively for an hour before he'd opened the bottle, and that was enough to warm his belly. But it didn't do much in terms of warming his soul.
He spent most of the time brooding about his family, and rightly so. He could still hear the angry voices of the townspeople repeating over and over in his mind. "Hachijō is a murderer! Demon!" The sewing needle stabbed him in the finger more than once.
Hiroshi wasn't sure what to believe anymore. The more he tried to convince himself that this Army was trying to persuade him into their ranks and away from his clan, the more confused he got when he saw their pacifistic actions. Had he been living blind all his life, had the walls of the castle done its job, until now? Was that the real reason his father kept him under lock and key, so that he never learned the truth?
But which side was most honourable?
When he'd returned the saké bottle to the General's travelling trunk, he noticed a book bound by soft worn leather. It had a gold shimmer when all the pages were closed, but opened, Hiroshi discovered notes written in General K's hand—beautiful, very disciplined Japanese kanji. There was also a picture tucked into the pages that fell onto Hiroshi's feet. It was a charcoal sketch of a woman in her late twenties. The drawing was now yellowish and worn like it was handled often—opened and folded closed many times. Beneath the portrait was the name, Evelyn Winchester. It was a picture of the General's mother.
She was very pretty with a slender face and tiny features. Hiroshi thought of his own mother.
Some of the writings inside the diary were military musings and some maps sketched onto the pages.
On one page there was a poem:
Forever I'll be,
Searching for the light above,
As the water flows.
It was a haiku. Hiroshi was oddly humbled; it seemed too academic for a man like General K Winchester. At least it seemed that way for a man he'd been taught was a violent, murderous individual. But then again, Hiroshi kept forgetting that the General mentioned he'd been brought up by a man named, Yorihito, a noble from the Kan'in family. Surely a man like Yorihito would have K specially educated and disciplined.
Just like his father had done for him.
Perhaps, the General wasn't as evil as he'd been told. Hiroshi could admit that much. But K Winchester was still a thorn in his family's side. Hiroshi let out an unsettled puff of air as he lay on his cot thinking, running a hand through his long, untamed red hair.
He hadn't slept a wink all night.
Across from him lay the General, who was sound asleep and sprawled over his bed on his stomach after his evening of drinking. He hadn't made a noise all night, no nightmares, no crying out. Hiroshi guessed it was due to the stench of alcohol permeating from his recumbent form.
Hiroshi gave a gentle smile.
Only a few hours ago the General stumbled into the tent completely drunk. Knocking into things, cursing when he'd stubbed his toe, spilling over the wash basin with a clatter. Hiroshi had pretended to be asleep when the General returned, the pile of mending forgotten in a basket on the floor next to his cot. After all the clumsy chaos, the General became silent, too silent, and Hiroshi knew it in his core that he was being watched. He knew that if he'd opened his eyes he would have been looking up into K's face. It seemed wrong that a man like this possessed such a handsome face. Knowing he was being watched, Hiroshi's insides twisted, his heart raced.
What kind of expression would he find on the General if he dared to look?
The General spoke softly to him, running a hand over his head soothingly, and fingers dancing in his hair. He'd said, "You're like a confined wild horse. So unfair... Hiroshi." K's fingers lingered between the threads of his hair momentarily, the touch was very gentle.
Hiroshi had struggled so hard to keep it together. The way the General spoke to him, even when he thought he was asleep. That deep melodic voice, it was captivating and sensual. Hiroshi was sure he'd never heard his name spoken like that by anyone.
He didn't want to come under the General's alluring spell but Hiroshi was quickly losing the battle. His brilliant plan of assassinating him was unravelling at his feet beyond his knowledge. In fact, even though now would be a perfect chance to strike the General, who was drunk and passed out on his cot, the idea did not even enter Hiroshi's mind.
By the time morning arrived, Hiroshi had already performed most of his required duties. Now the camp was bustling as everyone got ready for the continued trek back to Tokyo. It was hard to tell that most of these guys spent last night getting drunk. Even the General showed no signs of a hangover and was up at the crack of dawn, which was less than an hour ago.
He wasn't sure how they did that.
Quietly, Hiroshi slipped into General K's tent and found him sitting at the edge of his cot about to pull off one of his boots. The man ignored his boot and set his foot back down as Hiroshi began pouring him his required morning tea into a beautiful ceramic cup probably imported from England.
"Well, well, good morning, Hiro-san." The General was pleasantly surprised by Hiroshi's efficiency. Captain Saionji already reported to the General of Hiroshi's completed duties. However, that efficiency was forgotten the moment K sipped the tea...
"Ugh!" K spat out a mouthful of hot tea. "It's disgusting. It's full of leaves!"
"Well don't get picky," Hiroshi complained sourly. "I've never made tea in my life. What the hell do you want?"
The General got up and tossed the contents of the cup outside the tent, narrowly missing a young solider walking by. The man danced out of the way with surprise but smiled and sing-songed, "Uh-oh, someone got the General's tea all wrong."
The sound of the snickering soldier faded as he moved on.
Hiroshi felt dry. He scowled at the General.
"What's that face for?" K mused, patting Hiro on the cheek. "Alright, now listen and watch closely. I guess I'll just have to show you how a perfect cup of tea is made, but I'll only show you once. It's all about getting the right amount of tea leaves to water; this is black tea so I'll show you the method for this type of tea. Then you have to time it just right. It has to steep for two or three minutes. That's it."
K measured one levelled scoop of tea leaves and dropped them into a simple dark brown tea-pot. "Always add the tea leaves to the pot before the water, alright? " Then the General poured in the hot water and covered the tea-pot with the lid. He also poured some hot water into the awaiting tea-cup.
"Now this is where I start counting. Count to two hundred in your head and then pour. You must heat up your cup, too. It helps to keep the tea hot. Got it?"
Hiroshi just blinked.
"Use this little sieve over the cup so you don't pour all the leaves in. Some grit gets through but that's alright," K explained.
Hiroshi looked at the steeping pot of tea and wondered. "Should I be counting? Or are you?"
The General cursed. "I wasn't counting," he moaned.
Hiroshi tried not to smile. Inside he was counting all along but it was fun to get a rise out of the General. He just couldn't help it.
"I think the three minutes is up. Here, let me pour it," Hiroshi offered. He held the sieve over the cup and poured the hot coppery-coloured tea. Then he handed the cup over to the General, "For you, K-san." He exaggerated with a tiny bow.
The side of K's mouth twitched at the way Hiroshi pronounced his name and his performance and he took the tea.
He brought it to his mouth. He sipped it. And he swallowed it.
Phew. Hiroshi let out a pent-up breath.
K looked up from his tea-cup. "Mmm... perfect. You should pour yourself a cup, too, Hiro-san. Sit with me for a moment, I know we need to leave soon, but a few moments will be fine."
"The servant having tea with his master. My, what will everyone say?"
"Don't be a smart-ass, Hiro," K said flippantly, taking a seat on the edge of his cot. "Sit down, we need to talk."
Hmm, talk? Suddenly the atmosphere was serious. Hiroshi quickly helped himself to some tea and took a seat across from K on his own low-rise sleeping cot that was set up just for him.
"Last night I caught some Sugawara spies in this town. They noticed you and was about to run off to report their findings. Maybe you don't even know them, but they did know you," K informed his face somewhat sombre now.
Hiroshi's head darted up quickly over his cup. "Spies...? My father's men...?"
"I'm sure they are," K granted. "We will have to move a little faster to get to Tokyo. Do you understand the bloodshed that will occur if Hachijō reaches us? We need to deal with this quickly before that can happen."
Hiroshi remained silent. He didn't know what to say.
"It won't be pretty," K continued. "Did you know your father had men out this far? Does he have a rebel group this far south? I'm sure if you did know you wouldn't have told me anyways though, right?"
"I swear I didn't know anything about this. Everything your captain told you about me was true," Hiroshi told the General. "My father has kept a lot from me, it seems." Hiroshi's tone turned dark then. "I don't even know what's going on anymore. All I know is that you want my clan to change over to the new rule and my father doesn't want to. He taught me to believe you are all evil, with greedy intentions for this country. I just wanted to make him happy. I thought I understood it all, but I don't. I hate it." He felt so useless.
K sighed. "I guess it's not your fault. I just find it so hard to believe that your father hid so much from you. But why did he hide it? It makes no sense. You're the heir, right? They should have been training you to take over. Yet, your hands are not even stained with blood. I'm quite envious!"
Hiroshi swept his hair from his face and looked away awkwardly. He scoffed. "I don't know... My father only inherited leadership of the clan through my mother who was a true Sugawara. After she died, my father wanted nothing more than for me to be kept out of his way, out of his sight. That's what he said to me all the time, like I'm some kind of nuisance." Hiroshi clenched his teeth and spoke, "It's almost like he never wants anything to do with me."
The General's face softened. "I'm sorry, Hiroshi. I wish I had some answers for you."
"It doesn't matter, because I'm not there anymore. I'm here now... with you." Hiroshi glanced at K.
The General studied Hiro carefully, his eyes moving over the younger man's attractive face, those wounded and sad grey eyes watching him. He saw the way Hiro frowned, how he drew his eyebrows together and how his hair kept sliding over his left eye, such vibrant, dark hair that seemed redder at this very moment. There was something in that gaze Hiro beheld him with. Something heartbreaking, something longing, something needy...
Gah! To think he was falling for a man who came from within the enemy's iron gates! The son of a man he'd sworn to kill, the son of a hateful, evil warlord. Who would have thought that such a naïve being could be brought into this world by such a man? K could hardly believe sometimes that this beautiful man was the son of Sadato Takatsuji.
But he'd fallen. He fell so fast and so hard.
He fell until he hit rock bottom.
And even then he still felt like he was falling. The longer he stared at Hiroshi the more he wanted to reach out and touch him, to kiss away his pain that felt palpable at this moment.
K downed the rest of his tea in one gulp and shot to his feet. He began to undress.
Hiroshi nearly dropped his cup. "W-what are you doing?"
"It's time to get going, Hiro. Let's get ready. Fetch me the hot water—I need to wash up after last night."
"But I haven't even polished your boots yet, sorry, but you were still wearing them when you were sleeping. They're still stained with saké from last night," Hiroshi said distastefully, watching the General as he completely removed his shirt. His eyes took in the expanse of pale skin and smooth muscle that moved underneath. Every part of him was well-defined and firm. The General was very easy on the eye that's for sure.
Hiroshi was completely caught off guard for a moment, eyes shifting between the floor and the handsome General in front of him. He gave his head a shake and ran out to get the water. When he came back, the blonde still had his pants on but was tidying his hair and fixing it into a new ponytail. The redhead followed the ponytail to the base of K's long lean back. His eyes settled on his pert rear.
K turned around and spotted an uneasy looking Hiroshi.
"Do you require a bath, too? It was rude of me not to ask," K questioned genuinely, his blue eyes looking so concerned.
Hiroshi imagined this is what servants did. He knew they did this for him when he bathed at the castle. They fetched clothing, dressed him sometimes, they brought tea and food. But this was different with the General. Seeing him undress was making him uncomfortable. He was paying too much attention to the other man's body, such a great body it was, too.
He finally replied. "No, it's alright. I wasn't the one up all night drinking. I'll wash later."
Much to Hiro's deviant little mind, the threat of having to see the General naked was thwarted. K took the hot water behind a silk screen and proceeded to wash there, taking off his pants and resting them over the screen. Hiro found he was now able to breathe easier, but he could still make out K's silhouette.
"Now would be a good time to polish my boots, Hiro," K reminded him cleverly, water splashing to the ground. "You're right. I can't go around having stains of debauchery all over them." He chuckled to himself at his own joke and knowing perfectly well what all of this was doing to the young Sugawara man.
Hiro had a full-blown blush on his face and not because of the debauchery comment. It was clear he'd been caught staring. "Yes, sir," he said obediently and grabbed the tall leather boots. Anything so he didn't have to sit there and watch the tall naked shadow bathing on the other side of the screen.
He sat down on the cot and picked up a tin of black polish and a brush from underneath. He started to polish the boots vigorously.
"Hiro-san, before you get right into that could you to wash my back?"
The boot brush Hiroshi held zoomed right up and over his white sleeve, permanently staining it with a large, sticky black streak.
K peeked over the top of the screen grinning at Hiro, waving a washcloth in his hand.
Hiroshi wasn't sure he could forgive the General after that bathing situation. And later, to make matters worse, the General urged that Hiroshi was to ride with him on his horse when it was time to leave. K explained that the two Sugawara spies were going to have to share Hiroshi's old horse. There were no more horses to spare and so, 'Hiro is to ride with me.'
Hiroshi clung to K, feeling the same electric spark he felt the last time he sat behind the man on a horse. Only this time the General was not wounded and tired, he was fresh and clean, and he was warm and solid. The scent of soap came off the man whose hair kept tickling Hiroshi's nose. For a moment he turned to look for the two spies, curious as to whom they were.
He saw two men on his old horse, both wore greyish juban, both of them gagged. One had a head of long blonde hair and the other short black hair. They were fussing, the dark-haired guy elbowing the guy behind him. The blonde groaned.
Hiro had never seen them before in his life.
"Are you alright, Hiro?" K asked him.
The General was very aware of Hiroshi's movements.
"Yes... just trying to get comfortable," Hiroshi replied sheepishly. He tried not to think of the naked form of the man he clung to. Oh why did the General have to ask him to wash his back? Conceivably he was wrong and the General was indeed, evil. An evil man of seduction!
"If you're cold or anything let me know."
How could he be cold? Thankfully no one could see him blushing.
"I'm fine," Hiroshi urged sternly.
The battalion moved south again across Japan's beautiful countryside leaving behind the town that changed Hiroshi's perspective forever. The sun was partially hidden behind puffy white clouds but would shine its radiance as they moved under the deep blue sky. It wasn't very hot with a northerly wind that came at their backs, making travelling easier today.
That was good because they needed to make better time. They needed to get back to Tokyo before Hiroshi's father's men caught up with them.
For hours they rode. The men were quiet and only the sound of horse hooves clomped over the ground. The area was so secluded they didn't even run into a single person along the way.
Captain Saionji glanced over.
"He's asleep, isn't he?" said the General.
The older man nodded, his face unreadable, the red and white feather fluttering from the top of his cap. But the Captain continued to watch his young General who sat on his horse with his assassin fast asleep at his back. The left side of Hiroshi's face was pressed up into K's blonde hair, face slack, eyes peacefully closed. His arms were still securely wound around K's middle.
K cut a look at the Captain. "What?" he asked.
"It's nothing, K-san. It's just, well... you seem very content, happy—even with all that's happening around you," Saionji claimed, eyes looking straight ahead again.
The General thought about that and smiled softly.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you that way," the Captain expressed thoughtfully. "Please forgive me for being too outspoken."
"That's quite alright, Saionji-sama. It would be more dishonourable if you were to say nothing. You are concerned, yes?"
The Captain shot K a culpable glance.
"Would it be a complete lack of position and status if I said that I wish I didn't have to go back to Tokyo?" K revealed quietly.
Even if Chiaki Saionji could be a serious man, he understood plenty about the ways of the heart. He looked up at the sky as if it held the answers. "A blow to your social status, K-san, yes. If only we weren't carrying the warlord's son. Either way I think the truth has begun to weave itself into our naïve assassin's mind. Nothing is at a complete loss."
"Meaning...?" questioned the General.
"I mean that it's great to see a smile on your face, K-san." The Captain looked over again, eyes shifting to the sleeping Hiroshi.
The General scoffed with amusement. "He is such a beautiful man, is he not?"
The Captain chuckled lightly, "Indeed, your men are jealous of you, K-san. Your admiration is quite evident."
This time the General's smile curved into a smirk.
Taki Aizawa was a cunning man whose family had served the Sugawara family for generations. Their loyalty and keen knack for espionage were always sought after by the lords and military leaders of the Sugawara and Takatsuji families. It was in their blood, dirty work. The Sugawara were loosely tied to the Aizawa family by marriage of distant relatives. Truthfully, Sadato had people sprinkled all over Japan and he used them to his advantage whenever necessary. Ma-kun, who was the son of a merchant, came from the same village as Taki did. Together they would travel from town to town not only selling wares but gathering information and sending it back to the higher-ups at Sugawara castle. Information was easily passed along by carrier pigeons.
However, this time they messed up and got caught. It burned Taki's ego like a red-hot fire poker. How was he supposed to know that, that freakish General was going to come outside for a piss at that exact moment? Dumb luck. He wasn't much of a fighter, neither was Ma-kun who was too nice for his own damn good.
Pfft, he always sold more stuff than him, too.
"Ugh! Get your elbow out of my back, Ma-kun," Taki garbled behind his gag loudly, feeling hot and sweaty in his juban.
Ma-kun remained silent, but he was scowling.
Taki set his dark, droopy eyes on the Sugawara heir who was way up ahead, sitting behind the General on his horse. Geez, what was up with that? Why were they so chummy? Oh, it was definitely him now that the redhead had his hair on display and wasn't hiding under an ugly old cloak. Right, thought Taki sarcastically... and here I am sharing a horse with Ma-kun! But we're not that chummy. There was definitely something odd going on between that blond General and Lord Sadato's son.
But all that didn't really matter and Taki felt a tug of a smirk on his face. That General messed up too last night. He didn't catch their third man who was watching everything from atop of a roof next to that gambling house. Ken-chan would have sent word by now to the Captain. To the man who even caused their blood to run cold, Hachijō Fuyumoto.
Taki was sure that they just had to wait and be patient.
A/N: Thanks to everyone that left a comment on this story, who faved it or is following it. I truly appreciate it :) It means a lot! This chapter has a bit of humour in it, which I can't live without. This story is by far one of the darkest tales I've started and to be honest, I'm not confident in writing angst XD! However, things have lightened up for K and Hiro. Now they just have to keep taking on the world. Stay tuned!
