Coushander
コウシャンデル

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Chapter 10
The King's Shilling

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"Kousa," he said. "Come with me."

Those big black eyes glittered in promise. Coushander was always suspicious when he did that, like maybe Saru-Shin meant to show you the mystic ravine behind the house, but all you got out of it was a toad in your pants... (Remember, it wasn't his fault; you moved. Riiight…) The headband underneath Saru's bangs was equally intriguing; the soft shine mirrored his clarity of thought, among other things. But really. The fabric looked itchy. Kousa screwed his face: "Well…"

"Well?"

"Well…what about father? He can't manage by himself."

"Have you asked him?"

"No…"

"Well, then."

His brother shrugged.

Saru grinned. He leaned back on the high bank and moved his feet around in the water. Dragonflies darted among the reeds. Frogs swam beneath them under thick clouds of tangled brown moss, in five to six feet wide of track distance. "There's a place north of the border," Saru said. "That reminds me of this place."

"Really?"

"Mhm…But it's nothing like the real thing," he said. "I missed this place."

"Then why are you going back?"

Saru looked at him from the corner of his eye. The black bead formed an exclamation point of surprise with the red mark; his brow stayed even with his grin. The look only egged his brother on. Kousa looked away.

"You talked about Konoha…" he said. "Like it was ten times it's size on the map—beyond the borders, too. Is there any place you haven't been?"

"A place…I have not been…" Saru repeated wistfully. "Let's see…I do not think I have been too far south of the border—very sketchy down there, or too far west; Suna counts for much."

"…Is that all…?" Kousa smiled.

"Yes, that's it," he returned, looking at him carefully. It was his little brother's sixteenth birthday. Saru could see through the restlessness. He'd been gone two whole years. And just hours ago, Kousa had been a ball of excitement, hanging on his ani's every words, even after their father had long since fallen asleep to the sound of Saru's voice. Naturally, the first offer appealed to his brother like a new star invading the horizon. It was just out of his reach.

"Well, ask father about it," said Saru, returning his gaze to the brisk neon movement between the reeds. "He let me go."

"Yeah, but you were always getting into trouble."

"Oh hush," he grinned.

"Now…" Kousa looked at him, "You mind telling me about your goofy uniform? And what's with that headband…?"

It was Saru's delight to do so.

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The old man stood on the edge of the trail, where his odaiji-ni met with an arigatou, otoussan. He stood there, watching them leave, and knew he would not see either of them again.

(Remember…? All too well, Coushander thought. Age makes it clearer. He was such a strong man… He could make it on his own, even though he never admitted he was so lonesome. Maybe that's where Saru got it—no, that was where Saru got it….Oh Saru.

Lunatic.)

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Coushander secured the cloth across the bridge of his nose.

"You know…We have three hours to walk," Saru took the liberty to inform.

"I know," his brother said precociously, as if to swat a bee. He looked at him. "This is going to be a long trek, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Saru grinned, one hand gripping the strap across his chest. "Shall I start singing?"

"…Is that a requirement for all shinobi?"

"No…" he granted. "But I've found it does inspire comitatus."

"Comitatus?" Kousa repeated. "That's a word in stories."

"Yes," his ani said. "But it's real. It's as real as all folks who write about it."

"You mean all two or three of them?" laughed Kousa.

"Perhaps…"

Coushander watched where he was going.

Every step he was taking was one more to distance himself from the only home he'd ever known. He looked behind him and saw the empty trail, with only the leaves of a few poplars making any sound. He looked ahead. That shore of security faced him over fifty paces back, and who sojourned beside him was his brother, a man of twenty-one years whose childish ways were changed into a childish hope; speaking of comitatus, of all things.

Saru offered him raw adventure, and with it, an obligation. It was a contract to follow a flag, a leader, a way of both heart and blade, or so 'shinobi' foretold. It was also a precondition to wear a uniform, as Saru did, and a curious piece of metal, inscribed as that of the land of fire's insignia.

Saru-Shin started humming. It was soft and faint. And it was annoying as it was embarrassing. Even the poplars seemed to stop clapping in the background as Kousa listened. The cadence was high to low; sad and happy at the same time. After the line ended, Kousa asked him, "…What is that…?"

"…The song…" Saru said. "It starts with a c-flat, then a 'b', and then lilts to an 'a', a 'g', and then an f-sharp, and goes all the way down to an 'a'…Quite low," he admitted. "But each line is that way. It's easy to pick up, and even easier to forget."

His brother smiled. "So…you've been most everywhere, lived through comitatus, and now you know notation?" he asked. "Does that headband give you mental powers, as well?"

Saru grinned. "Other than flash signals, no," he answered. "And comitatus," his brother stated airily for the record, "Is created, not lived through," Saru craned his neck to look up through the high arch of the trees. "It's meaning became quite clear to me."

"How so?"

"That…I cannot say," said Saru, returning his gaze to the horizon line. "You will find that out."

His brother frowned indignantly. "So…if I suddenly started singing…would I start to know it better?"

Saru smiled. "Well, what do you know?"

"…Does it matter?" he asked.

Saru kept silent, with only his knowing smile.

Kousa was invited to grin: "Ezekiel has a wheel, you know. Way in the middle of the air," he recited. "Father taught us that one."

"I remember," Saru said. "That's a good one."

"…So how come stuff like that doesn't make it into the novels, too?"

"It's too old, Kousa," his ani said sadly. "They're all too old. Remember 'Pass Me Not'? It passed us by. Remember 'The Black Sheep'? Everybody went out to pasture! Remember 'The King's Shilling'? It's all underwater now, like a hermit frog."

"…The King's Shilling," Kousa repeated. "That was about the two sailors, wasn't it?"

"Sure was."

"What were the kid—no, the brothers' names…? Jim…?"

"Tim and Daniel."

"Right, right! 'For sailors will sleep, in the deep, so they say…'" Kousa remembered. "Wait—which one went blind? Was it…Daniel?"

"It was the elder, Tim. Daniel fell from the main-mast."

Kousa looked down. "That was sad."

Saru smiled.

Kousa looked at him. "So what's the name of the song you were humming? The one that starts with a c-flat?—Or can't you say?" he added wryly.

"'The Girl I Left Behind Me,'" Saru-Shin replied.

"…'Never heard of that one," his brother remarked thoughtfully.

"That's one of the really old ones," said Saru. "Long before Daniel and Ezekiel."

"So like, Moses?" Kousa suggested with a laugh.

Saru only smiled.

"Saru, 'you have a girl you left behind you…?" his brother suddenly asked.

"Sure I do."

"What's her name?"

"Konohamaru."

"…Huh? You mean…" his otouto stared in confusion. "You mean the place we're headed now?"

"Yep." he said. "It has the tall trees, just like the ones here and around our house. It's just as beautiful. Lot's of them, too."

"Saru."

"…Yes?"

Kousa stared into his eyes. "You're weird."

"Why…! Thank you!" he grinned. "You know, next to people, I like trees the best," he said.

Inwardly, Kousa rolled his eyes, knowing the statement rang true for him as well.

So instead of the ground, his black eyes traipsed along the jasper bark, and like clouds, the branches linked shapes of their own, stretching upwards to that open sky their leaves hid.

"…Hey…" thought Kousa. "I've got one, Saru—'Grandfather's Clock'!"

"Oh Kousa—It's all been busted."

"No it's not…!" he replied staunchly in the face of his ani's teasing jest. "Now how'd that one start…?"

The ravine was far behind them now.

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Don't be angry with me, son, I know I drove you from my door
I know that I've been foolish, lad, I've repented o'er and o'er…

Saru was humming.

He was doing so at a distance from his brother's training, which Saru guessed, would please Kousa with no further embarrassment…

Black Sheep, Saru thought with his predictable smile. Who knows the Black Sheep…

So far, Kousa learning the latter part of 'shinobi' was like watching a baby bird fall from it's nest. Repeatedly. It was lucky, Saru supposed, that he found a former teammate, happening to be wandering Konoha's streets like the nomad he was. A patient one, at that. Harou. He was a complainer of the working sorts, but not of the 'easy' work as this. Though, Saru had to admit, he was giving his little brother an uneasy test of mettle.

In the distance, Kousa stood still when the blade he held hid itself in the white cloud, owing to the stronger man with a short kunai blade, pointed beside him only a second later. The blade Kousa held had steadily increased it's weight; Coushander lowered it in defeat.

Harou Nekai withdrew.

"You see what just happened there?" he said. "It was a clone. In the heat of battle, one must note every detail, no matter how small," he returned the blade to the hilt. "We've been going at it for far too long; I see your brother there. We can continue this later."

Kousa inclined his head as Harou moved away, and Saru moved forth. "Kousa," he called. "You drop your left elbow."

His brother lifted the blade to return it to it's sheath, but Saru stopped him. "Let me see that."

Kousa sighed before obliging.

Saru-Shin took the blade with his left hand, and then switched it to his right. He felt the ridge of the hilt was damp. "Ok, so," he took a stance. "You start like this…" He parried the air. "Do this, do that…And then…" In a semi-circle, he guided the blade through the air. His left knee bended, and the height of his arms became unequal. "…This," he stopped, keeping the pose. "You should learn to keep tight as you move. Try not to bend so much. It's important to feel like a spring in close combat so you can move more readily," Saru dropped the pose and let Kousa take back the blade, returning it to the sheath. "You're still catching on though," Saru said. "And like Harou has demonstrated, clones and substitution are bastard things…"

Kousa's dejected look offered agreement.

"Still!" said Saru. "Have you got a kunai with you?"

"Uh—yeah…"

"I'd like to show you something."

Kousa fished one out from the pouch at his side. "…What?" he asked.

"Well, as your feet get faster, I'd like to show you what your hands can do."

"Ok…"

"Now, I'll go stand back, and I want you to aim the blade at me and throw it."

"Uh…Saru…" he began with a dumb look. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course!" he said, moving back. "Now come on, aim it right for me."

"Hey, this isn't going to end like Ching Ling Soo, is it?"

"Fiddlesticks, just do it," he said, taking his position. "One!" he called, some yards away. "Two…" Reluctantly, his brother raised the kunai. "…Three!"

His brother threw it.

Saru-Shin did not dodge. His hands came up. His left extended swiftly and he caught the blade, stopping it nearly four feet before his head. Saru returned to his brother, the kunai twirling in his left hand. The ani grinned at his brother's large eyes, wide with a stammering shock.

"It takes practice," Saru readily admitted. "But I am confident you can learn as well."

"D—Hey—do all shinobi do that?!"

"…Which is why I said it takes practice!"

"Oh you're kidding me."

Saru smiled; and it only provoked him: "Fine—Fine," he stammered. "But how in the world do you practice something like that?!"

"Carefully and slowly," Saru said.

"…Saru."

"Yes?"

"You're crazy."

"Ah! Ah, ah!" he objected. "I am a lunatic. There's a difference."

"Sure…" his brother muttered, collapsing to sit on the ground. "Of course…" he smiled faintly beneath the indigo.

Saru-Shin smiled down. An old song crept up behind his thoughts and turned up the volume in his head, the lyrics lilting up and down as they always did. Come take the King's Shilling, he stared at his brother's exhausted form. And follow your dreams;

I'll make you a sailor like me.

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It was a parallel. That of land, and that of sea. The two met with a long and sandy coast, joining both the waves to the unmoving land. The border constantly varied. The waves came in and out at a slow pace the bored noon, creeping up three to four feet, and then receding.

Hatake Coushander had the opportunity of seeing this once before.

It was his twentieth birthday. Saru had given him a mission. So Kousa waited on the dock there with his brother in the land of waves—along with an intensely shy man by the name of Ichida Takato. They were waiting for two more.

At last a young girl turned onto the dock, and she came up to their group. She seemed tall for her age; black eyes, black hair, she looked at the others and said, "I'm sorry I'm late, sir."

"On the contrary!" Saru said. "You're right on time. Kano Hoseki, he greeted. "It's good to meet you. This is Hatake Coushander," he gestured. "And this is Ichida Takato."

"Hello," she nodded awkwardly, smiling.

"I am sure the trip will allow us further introduction," Saru said. "And now, there is one left to come…"

Together, they waited.

The sailors were down further, amidst the wharf, handling rope and cargo. Both Kano Hoseki and Ichida Takato, the youngest of the group, gave the tall ship a long look. It was out in the deeper water, between the two docks like a great brown island, curved upward with high, wooden sides. A row boat just set off to ferry to it some hundred yards, carrying cargo and two young sailors.

At last a very tall man with an almost hostile stillness of disposition came walking up the dock with a stiff conformity to rival the straightness in a hawk's eye. Kano Hoseki started taking steps backward, beside Coushander, forming a slanted line between the four of them. Takato kept going backward, his face suddenly turning a bright white. The man's intimidation factor tripled as he came closer. Kano was nearly parallel to Ichida as only the two brothers stood out.

"Ah!" Saru responded cheerfully. "Morino Dalzen. It's good to have you," he greeted. "On my left here is Ichida Takato; on my right, Hatake Coushander, and finally, we have Miss Kano Hoseki."

The tall man, far taller than Coushander's height, offered an unusual grunt to all this. The quartet took it for a 'hello', as there were a few low syllables he seemed to string together. He said nothing else. And, arms folded, he did not move.

Saru-Shin walked past him as there was one last person approaching their party. "Harou! He said. "Did they send you? How unlucky! Why those scoundrels…!"

The man laughed. "Saru, here is the thing you asked for," Harou presented him what looked to be a thin black book. "Thank you," Saru said, already shoving it in his pack. He gestured to the item in Harou's other hand, "What's that?"

"Oh yes, stand back, all of you," It was a camera. "All in a line, there we go. It's for the record," he explained. "Six months from now I swear you won't recognize yourselves," And when the joke went flat to all but Saru's grin, Harou laughed for them. "Yes, line up," he said.

Takato was on the far right where Dalzen inadvertently struck fear straight into his heart. Saru-Shin went to the middle, Kano on his right. Kousa anchored that side, and he hoped he had not blinked when a swift breeze came through quite suddenly.

"Very nice," Harou mumbled. "Well then Saru, I believe your ship has come in," he joked between themselves. "Take care, all of you."

"And to you, Harou," said Saru, smiling.

A small boat was drifting up as the man left the dock. Two sailors stepped out and met Saru:

"Cap'n says we're ready," one said.

Saru nodded.

And as they looked back to the ship, the sail of the main-mast suddenly split apart like the cutting of a wide ribbon.

"What the hell…?" the one with the dark eyes said.

"Oh shit—that's not good," remarked his younger companion.

"Baka!" the man jabbed his arm. He smiled at Saru: "We'll be right back…" he muttered as the two returned to the cutter.

"…Can we assist you?" asked Saru.

"No—No," the man said. "We have enough men as it is—Go sit on the dock or something," he said. "This'll just take a minute…"

It took four hours.

Hatake Coushander, Saru-Shin, Morino Dalzen, and Ichida Takato, she mentally repeated in her mind, looking at them each. She'd thought of Coushander's name first, with a longer stare when he wasn't looking.

Two hours in, Saru had suggested that Ichida and Coushander should go by the end of the dock and remark on the wonderful native fauna along the coast like two young explorers, come to a foreign land. Of course, he'd only said 'take a walk,' as Takato was in obvious ill-composure of the ever-silent Morino, who did not seem to have the civilness to drop the angry façade, let alone comment on the weather.

So the three had watched as a long white tarpaulin finally found it's way on their cutter; the ship-chandler's voice conversing quite loudly with the captain's. The cylinder was handled by the first mate, and took equally as long to install as the breeze was coming up steadily now, straight from the north. Kousa and Takato returned to the trio as the chandler continued talking with the captain, "Oh, you have shinobi…" he realized lowly to him.

"Cornelius, I do not wish to know how you sniffed that out, but I trust you will not disclose that to any other soul."

"Oh great Shingatte!" he said. "You know very well they're bad luck charms."

"Well that's a coincidence, my dear boat is scorned on the highs seas, and even the low seas, and everywhere in between," he smiled faintly. "I cannot go wrong."

"Famous last words!" Cornelius declared. "Zan'nen da…" he remarked faux sympathetically, with a 'Tck, tck, tck,' beat under his lips.

"It's all ready, sir," the dark-eyed crewman said.

The captain checked his watch. "Four hours," he stated with disappointment. "No matter—We have the Jeddah's store?"

"…Sir?" the crewman questioned.

"The Jeddah's store." He pronounced.

"…The Jeddah, Shingatte?" inquired Cornelius. "I give you the Dutchman's mast, and now you want their cargo?!"

"Oh this doesn't concern you," he barked back. "Her captain wanted us to carry their store, as she was no longer seaworthy," he explained. "I told this to Houda hours ago—did you all not get that message?!"

"Oh…" muttered the crewman. "Yes sir, sorry sir—This'll all just take a minute…"

Captain Shingatte rolled his eyes and sighed in quiet desperation.

Cornelius took the opportunity to prod him in unrivaled glee: "You're doomed."

With that, he strutted off the dock like a peacock, when he had no feathers. He started spreading word to ready the schooners for the survivors.

Saru-Shin stood immediately when the captain walked over. "My apologies, but we will be delayed at least another hour…" he said. "I hope no one was expecting you."

"Oh no one, sir," Saru answered. "You've given us extra time to get to know one another."

Shingatte first saw the young man Ichida, quite pale-faced, like the look of seasickness; the dark-haired, dubious Morino—by all accounts a serial killer with that menacing look—the curious masked man with silver-color hair, and the quiet young woman. Yes, he thought, they look like a group of winners…Shinobi, he mused. Nevertheless, he smiled, nodded, and walked off to determine the exact location of his first mate.

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