Author's Note: Here we are with the aftermath to old Sanetsuna's attempt to abuse Saburo. Nobutsuna will have to make a decision now...

Please note: the rating for this story went up due to m/m sexual content!

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Sixteen years, nine months, ten days

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It was well before dawn when Uesugi Kenshin left his quarters, clad into a hastily thrown-on yukata and quickly followed the manservant leading the way with a dim light. Kasugayama still lay in darkness, its inhabitants slumbering. The house they were headed to was situated close to the inner castle. No one there looked surprised when the Uesugi clan lord stepped over the threshold at this ungodly hour.

A female servant bowed deeply and led him to the sickbed of Irobe Katsunaga. Kenshin saw at once that he hadn't been called here rashly. The consumptive fever his chief advisor had fallen ill with soon after his return from Odawara had turned the spritely old man into a brittle shell. His breath, so labored during the last days of his sickness, had become flat, his breast heaving almost imperceptibly. By his side were his two sons, Nagazane and Akinaga.

Kenshin knelt on the other side of the old man's sickbed. "Irobe-dono," his voice broke.

The old man's eyes fluttered open. It cut through Kenshin's heart to see how dim the light in his eyes had become. Still, Irobe's blurred gaze found and recognized him just before his eyes fell shut again. Kenshin held his hand, grateful that he had made it in time, even if Irobe had forfeited the ability to speak. Ever since his ascension to leadership of the Uesugi clan, Irobe had been by his side, every step of the way.

No words were necessary.

As if trying to prove him wrong, a flicker of liveliness returned to the old man's eyes. "M-my Lord," Irobe breathed, his eyes blinking open for a short moment.

"I hear you, my friend." Carefully, Kenshin leaned over him to make sure he wouldn't miss anything.

"The… boy, my Lord." Irobe's eyelids didn't lift again. "Pray see to him."

Kenshin sat in silence, long after the old man's breathing had stilled.

/\/

Water, Saburō thought. Ice water would be best. To cleanse his body of all traces Sanetsuna's touch might have left there. Watching the sea, he imagined its cold waters engulf his body. Or wind, he thought, turning his gaze towards the tousled clouds in the sky. Icy air to numb his limbs. That would be good.

Unfortunately, it was a mild and sunny spring day. Even up here, in the Northern provinces where the spring was often cold, rainy and above all, late, the light of the sun warmed the air to an agreeable temperature. A soft breeze played with his hair and with Tsubame's mane.

At least, he was alone here on the beach.

News of what had happened had seeped through to the rest of the household quickly enough. Saburō hardly slept the nights after the incident. The male servants were all lodged together in a room. Every time someone in his vicinity turned over in his sleep, Saburō could feel all his muscles tense up.

Nothing had happened, so far. Nobody had tried to lay a hand on him. Saburō had feared Sanetsuna's earlier attempt to mark him as fair game, but maybe he had sized up the situation wrong. They might be keeping their hands to themselves because they didn't want to get into their old lord's way, confining themselves to furtive gazes Saburō caught from the corner of his eye, whispers that were stifled as soon as he entered the room. He could do nothing but grit his teeth and endure the unasked for attention.

He had been mulling over the events that led up to the incident with Sanetsuna, every step he had taken since his arrival at the castle, in an attempt to figure out what he could have done in a different way. The best thing would have been to stay away from the old lord as far as possible but when he'd been ordered to serve him, what could he have done about it?

As so often before, he was at a loss about what Sanetsuna had seen in him. Had he unwittingly somehow given the older man a sign that had been misinterpreted? How could he keep from doing it again if he didn't know what it was? There seemed to be a code to this kind of thing Saburō wasn't aware of.

Sighing, he reached for Tsubame's reins and led the horse back to the castle. There was going to be an aftermath to what had happened with Sanetsuna, he was sure of it.

/\/

Relationships in the Naoe household had been tense ever since the old lord and his son in law had locked horns over the new servant boy. The two masters of the castle went out of their way to avoid each other and the servants tiptoed between them, careful not to breathe too loudly. Saburō had been sent to the stables to look after Tsubame to keep him out of the line of fire.

At last, the news reached Osen's ears. Naoe could tell from the way his wife was watching him without doing so. She had perfected this technique even before he had come to the Naoe household all those years ago. He was aware that she knew of the strained relationship between her father and her husband, but now there was a new factor to consider.

Saburō had unwittingly become a tool in their family dispute, like fuel to a fire hardly banked. His own intentions didn't matter. Sanetsuna wouldn't forget this incident any time soon and he would certainly claim a right to Saburō on the basis of Naoe not doing so.

There was but one way to get out of this dilemma, Naoe knew. He had to claim Saburō for himself, the boy for whose sake he had fallen out with his father-in-law. No, he reminded himself. His rift with the old man had much more to do with Sanetsuna's person than with Saburō's. Naoe knew perfectly well that the row with his father-in-law had been long overdue. The Naoe clan couldn't have two masters. Sanetsuna should have realized this long ago.

He would set clear boundaries to any infringement from Sanetsuna's side, Naoe decided, and if he could do so only by making Saburō his own, that's what he would do. He couldn't say that he felt much inclination to take a new lover. He had shared Osen's bed for several nights since his return from Kasugayama, more out of a sense of duty than desire. His marriage wouldn't pose a hindrance to him bedding another, but it felt unpleasant to be forced into taking that step.

He couldn't help but feel a slight grudge towards Saburō for having provoked this whole situation. At the same time, he knew he couldn't lay the blame to the boy. Saburō wasn't the type to make eyes at his father-in-law in Naoe's absence – or to anyone else. There was nothing coy or flirtatious about the boy, remarkably so actually. Any other in Saburō's situation would have tried to make use of those looks. So if anyone was to blame it was Sanetsuna who couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Naoe was most displeased at having to occupy himself with his private war with his father at a time like this. If what Kenshin-kō feared was true, the Oda were going to attack them soon. He didn't have time for his Sanetsuna's games.

One time with Saburō would be enough, Naoe decided, as long as the whole household would be aware of the change in their relationship. Afterwards, even Sanetsuna wouldn't dare touch the boy again. And Naoe would finally be able to concentrate on thinking up a plan how they could save Echigo from Nobunaga's greedy claws.

/\/

It was Jirō who broke the curious silence Saburō found himself surrounded by when he sat the boy down and explained to him what had been decided.

Saburō listened with growing discomposure until the noise in his ears drowned out Jirō's voice. The time had come, then. What he had feared from the start when he was sold off to Naoe – it was finally going to happen. How strange that they would announce it to him like this.

"Have you understood everything?"

"How", he wanted to know when he finally found his voice, "can Sanetsuna-dono lay claim to a… a possession of Naoe-dono's?"

"He can", Jirō said, "as long as Nobutsuna-dono doesn't take you." He paused. "You really don't know chicken shit about these things, do you?"

Saburō shook his head. "Sorry."

"Well, Nobutsuna-dono was given custody of you by Oda Nobunaga. You thus became part of the Naoe household which is currently headed by Sanetsuna-dono. Technically, Nobutsuna-dono has a right to you, but as long as he doesn't make use of that right, he could always just defer it to someone else. His adoptive father would be the obvious person."

"This is kind of complicated", Saburō whispered, his spirits sinking further with each word he heard.

"Not really. He'll have to make a decision now: either take you to bed himself or allow Sanetsuna-dono to do so – by which he would lose his right to you." He stopped at the look on Saburō's face. "Ah, don't worry. I doubt he'll give you up to anyone."

The friendly encouragement was seriously skirting the limits of what Saburō could bear. Yes, Sanetsuna would be worse. The thought of the older man's body on top of his caused a bitter taste in his mouth. But Naoe wouldn't allow for Sanetsuna to have him, Jirō had explained. That was good. He shivered. But the other thing was bad. Whether it was with Naoe or… anyone, really. It didn't matter.

"Is the thought so repulsive to you?" Jirō's voice penetrated his thoughts.

"Of course not", Saburō murmured, minding his manners. He quickly rose from the floor. "Excuse me." His stomach heaved. He had to make haste in order to reach the waste buckets.

I brought this on myself. If Sanetsuna hadn't… if I hadn't caught his eye, then Naoe wouldn't have decided to… He showed no sign so far that he wanted to do this. If I hadn't…

/\/

"Nobutsuna-sama, Saburō has been informed."

"Good." Naoe inwardly grimaced. Protocol was something to cling to when you didn't have the slightest idea about how to proceed. "Does he understand what this entails?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Naoe nodded. His mind which had been preoccupied with his argument with his father-in-law finally cleared and he could focus on the documents on the small table in front of him. After his last conversation with Kenshin-kō, he considered it wise to take a closer look at the terrain where the attack from the Oda might be launched soon.

"My Lord, I was wondering…"

Naoe looked up from his maps, slightly surprised to see Jirō still kneeling before him. "Yes?"

"Well, it's just a thought. Saburō was inside Odawara castle when it fell and with all these soldiers running wild… I was thinking maybe something… happened. You know?"

Oh. "Would that have been possible?"

Jirō scratched his ear. "You know what it's like in conquered cities."

Naoe did. And it was possible – Nobunaga hadn't a reputation for being chivalrous towards captured enemies, least of all the Hōjō. Surrounded by soldiers who hadn't touched a woman in months, a pretty face like Saburō's could easily turn into a calamity. "What gave you the impression that anything of the sort came to pass?"

"He was sick when I explained what's expected of him."

Naoe blinked. "He was sick?"

"That wasn't just nervousness, I reckon. He was terrified."

Naoe sighed. "It might be caused by the incident with my father. That cannot have been pleasant," he muttered under his breath. The barest blink of an eye from Jirō told him that his weapon master had caught on the rare occasion of the younger Naoe criticizing the older one.

After dismissing Jirō, he folded his hands and leaned his forehead against them. Great. Not only didn't he want to proceed with this, he was also going to do it to a scared, unwilling boy… He could have wrung Sanetsuna's neck for putting him into this situation in the first place.

/\/

Again, sleep eluded him.

He shouldn't have been surprised, Saburō figured. A lot had happened today, none of it heralding anything good. A young manservant called Higan had briefed him earlier on what was going to happen in Naoe's bed chamber the next evening. Higan was a personal servant of Sanetsuna's, a few years older than Saburō and protocol was his favorite word.

Now Saburō lay on his side on his futon in the dormitory listening to the snores of the other men and tried to remember if he had ever caught on anything this complicated when he'd been younger and had a chance to observe the relationship between Lord Shingen and Kōsaka Danjō. Then again, the two of them had been practicing shudo which was basically a love relationship between noblemen, between almost-equals. That could hardly be compared to what his encounter with Naoe would be like. Naoe could beat and abuse him in any way known to mankind if he felt like it - and nobody would think ill of him. Saburō was just a slave after all.

In the dark, he got up from his sleeping place and tiptoed between the slumbering bodies of his fellow servants towards the corridor. Slowly, he pulled back the shoji and stepped outside, trying not to make even the tiniest sound.

The night watch was patrolling the castle, but Saburō managed to avoid them. He didn't know where he was going until he got there. Tsubame was dozing in his bay, a back hoof put up in a relaxed stance. His ears perked up when he saw Saburō enter.

"Evening, Tsubame," he murmured as he stepped close to the stallion and stroked his neck, tangling his fingers in the long strands of Tsubame's mane. The warm scent of horse and hay did him good, even though he was still quite upset.

"Up this late?" a deep voice interrupted.

Saburō whirled around in shock, expecting to face Sanetsuna. It was Naoe, though, clad in informal house robes at this late hour – which wasn't as bad but didn't quite calm his nerves, either.

"Naoe-dono," he stammered and bowed. "Forgive me. I – I was just looking after Tsubame."

"So was I," Naoe replied and likewise put a hand to Tsubame's neck.

Saburō peered up at him from underneath his lashes. This was the first time he came face to face with his master ever since the incident. Should he give Naoe his thanks for saving him? But doing so would have meant to imply that Sanetsuna had been at fault. Even if Naoe thought so himself, it wasn't Saburo's place to voice this point of view. Sanetsuna, too, was his superior after all.

"You two get along well, don't you?" Naoe's eyes were on his horse, as if he didn't really expect an answer to this question. "It's unusual for him to let somebody this close except for me."

At that moment Saburō knew what he should have been doing. For some reason, the idea had never even crossed his mind until it was too late. Tsubame would have carried him for sure.

But then…

Even if he made it across the borders of Echigo, out of the Uesugi's sphere of influence, where would he go? To Kai? Kōsaka had made it pretty clear already that there was nothing they could do for him. Back to Sagami? Odawara was under Oda's rule now. As for the other clans, it was just as hopeless. Nobody would take him in. They all had slaves and servants and didn't want to set an example of a runaway slave being rewarded for defying his masters.

He couldn't escape to anywhere from the fate laid out for him.

And the general's voice… his calm and relaxed tone that seemed to coax Saburō into accepting a fate there was no escape from, the way the older man was speaking to him, almost benevolent. Something about it made Saburō's throat tighten.

This couldn't be happening, Saburō thought as is eyes started to burn, not now. He never cried. He hadn't even when Ujiteru-ani had died. This was not the time and place for a meltdown.

He quickly wiped his eyes and hoped Naoe wouldn't see.

/\/

We could do it now, Naoe thought, and get it over with.

He cast a fleeting look at the haystacks in the corner of the stables. It would be much more relaxed that way. But he kept walking back to the living quarters, the boy beside him, his presence cool like a ghost.

When they reached the inner yard of the castle, Saburō bowed gracefully. "Good night, tono."

The glow of the moon highlighted the boy's cheekbones and dark lashes. For a moment Naoe wondered why their planned copulation had felt like a weight around his neck during the last days. Saburō wasn't uncomely after all. Even he could see that much. His face was a pretty mask, lifeless somehow. For some reason, the memory of Saburō pinned to the ground in Sanetsuna's chambers came to his mind. The lilywhite skin of his exposed shoulder, perfect as a marble statue's. But a statue couldn't be forced to the ground like this.

Naoe made a dismissive gesture and watched Saburō's slender figure retreat towards the servants' quarters. It would be easy to close his hand around the boy's shoulder and turn him around and… However, this would mean a breach with protocol. The official character of their joining would be lost.

And this was after all the only reason why he was going to lie with Saburō. To make his right to the boy and to the predominance within the clan official.

/\/

Saburō stood still at the screeching sound the floorboard underneath his foot produced. A nightingale corridor? He briefly thought of Kenshin in Kasugayama, of the childish plan to execute the enemy warlord he had thought up back in Odawara. He was probably protected by similar installments, most powerful clan lords were. His own family had employed several of these features meant to give an early alarm in case of an intrusion. The Fuuma had installed and probably invented most of them.

He slightly shook his head to collect his thoughts which seemed to scatter with the wind before he pulled back the shoji and entered the chamber. His own movements seemed mechanical to him, like a puppet's. He had been trained to do this and now he would. Even if his heart beat so fast it might jump out of his breast.

The room basically looked as Higan had described it to him beforehand. Five tatami with a futon and a small sitting area with a lacquer table. Saburō placed the tray he was carrying upon the latter and presented the sake he had brought to Naoe. They were kneeling opposite each other at the table. Like the equals, Saburō thought, which they were not – neither in real life nor in this act they were about to engage in.

Naoe took up the cup and contemplated the clear liquid inside it for a few long moments without drinking. He certainly wasn't hurrying to get this over with. The expression on his face betrayed how much he was lost in his own thoughts.

He doesn't want to do this, Saburō realized. He's only going through with it because the commodities leave him with no other choice.

For a strange moment, Saburō experienced something akin to sympathy for his reluctant master who was all but caught in the very same web he found himself in. He had never given the slightest hint that he felt attracted to Saburō. He was supposed to embrace a stranger. And yet there was an additional component to Naoe's behavior.

His pride doesn't allow him to give up the reward he received, even though he doesn't really want it for himself.

Saburō's gaze wandered to the small candle lights on the table between them. Apart from a couple of wall lights, there was no illumination to the room. Saburō's eyelids were drooping ever so slightly. Now of all moments he felt the exhaustion that several nights in a row with little to no sleep brought finally catch up with him.

"Come."

Saburō startled. The single word penetrated his mind like a small arrow. With awkward movements he got up from the floor. In the blink of an eye, everything Higan had told him about what to do had been wiped away. He could only think of how he had been allowed to take a bath, but he had missed his chance to ask if he could take one afterwards.

Naoe gestured towards the futon and pulled open the sash of his yukata.

Saburō's limbs felt like ice. They obeyed only hesitantly when he willed them to move. His revulsion was so great, it made his mind go blank. Only the discipline his temple education had given him, allowed him to follow through with what was expected of him.

He lay down on his side, propped up on an elbow. Naoe knelt down behind him which gave him anything but a safe feeling, but Saburō stared into the other direction as if he could blank out the older man's presence like this. Naoe folded back the lower parts of Saburō's yukata to reveal his legs.

This was as different as it could get from the last time he'd been about to have this done to him. Then had been outside, now was in a closed room. Then the light of the red moon was cast over the beach, now the mild light of candles illuminated the room. Then, he had been surrounded by a crowd. There were only the two of them now. There had been jeering voices all round him, then. Now, there was silence except for his own blood that thundered in his ears.

And still, everything was the same.

He froze when he felt Naoe's hand at his hip.

"Take that off," Naoe ordered, referring to his loincloth.

Saburō feared he might be sick again. Still, it was better to do this himself, he thought as he loosened the piece of cloth with shaking fingers. Behind him, he could feel Naoe busying himself with something, then a hand on his hip indicated him to turn further around. A moment later, he felt the man's fingers glide between his cheeks.

No, not there, a tiny helpless voice of opposition in the back of his mind place of his body no one had touched ever since that night. His field of vision blackened at the edges. Naoe's fingers were wet. Saburō had been told about this before. The oil. Higan had pointed out that it might help to make it not to that painful. Saburō clung to that thought as the tip of Naoe's finger entered him.

It couldn't be. It was impossible to hold still and let himself be disgraced like this. It went against everything he had been raised to believe in – the name of his clan, his duty to live up to it. He couldn't submit to this. Every fiber of his being told him to get away, but his body just wouldn't obey.

The finger went in deeper. Desperation seized him. How was it he couldn't fight back? It was one thing to be violated, Saburō reasoned with himself, but another to just lay there and endure it. Just as with Sanetsuna, he couldn't move. As if he weren't there at all, just an empty shell.

A second finger was added, moved back and forth, pressing a little deeper each time. Naoe kept his up for a while before spreading the fingers apart. To widen him, as Saburō assumed. It was like a reminder that this was only the beginning.

The fingers were withdrawn.

Instead Naoe suddenly pulled him up from the futon so his back lay against the man's chest. A tiny gasp escaped him. Even through the fabric, the man's skin against his was frighteningly hot. A hand went for the sash of his yukata. Saburō sat stiff as a statue as Naoe undressed him, full of the utmost reluctance. The garment was thrown aside carelessly. In the back of his mind, he knew it was ridiculous but being bared to Naoe's eyes seemed like another thing taken from him. In the midst of these scattered thoughts, a smell hit his nostrils that he recognized.

The scent of aroused male.

"Lie down," Naoe whispered, his breath ghosting over Saburō's naked skin. And Saburō did, jumping at the chance to avoid the other man's body heat even if it was just for a few heartbeats.

As Naoe's body was sliding over his, a sound escaped his mouth that he was sure conveyed all his horror and distress. He pressed his face into the futon until he could hardly breathe, but it was too late. Higan had warned him about this. He wasn't supposed to show any displeasure.

He could feel the whole length of Naoe's body pressed lightly against his own. His hair had come loose. Saburō could sense it brushing over the skin of his back. The man's knees nudged his legs apart, leaving him open and vulnerable. His breath quickened with raw terror. The universe shrunk to the man's hand on his hip and to the voice that murmured into his ear, the voice that had calmed a shying Tsubame in the midst of a battle.

Maybe he knew, Saburō thought hazily, maybe Naoe could tell that he was half-crazed with fear and repugnance. Or maybe he misinterpreted the sound as a sign of pleasure. It didn't really matter. He was going to do it to him anyway.

Saburō held his breath. He could feel him there, hot, erect muscle being positioned, as he lay there completely defenseless. The state of tension he was in wouldn't make this any easier. His fingers clawed into the futon when the grip on his hips tightened and the taller, more powerful body behind him shifted. Then the tip of Naoe's manhood breached him.

/\/

Author's Note: I felt really sorry for Saburō, having to go through this sort of thing again. It was difficult to write, too – hence the long radio silence. But in this scenario, I feel it would be kind of unrealistic for them to have romantic first time sex.

Tell me what you think please!