Author's Note: I like this chapter a lot – contains some of the very first notes I took for this story.

Enjoy! :-)

Sixteen years, ten months, eighteen days

/\/

Naoe laid back his head and looked up into the green wilderness that stretched over him like a temple roof.

They were on their way back from the borderlands and would reach the estates of the Naoe clan in the afternoon. It had been his decision not to call on one of the daimyō whose estates were located in this area although Kenshin-kō's retainers were always glad to offer food and shelter to a comrade. He found he enjoyed such meals under the open sky – or as in this case, under these serene, majestic trees – much more than the stiff affairs in sticky castles he had to attend all too often.

If Nagazane or his men found anything bizarre about these orders, they hid it well. As for Saburō who was still growing at his tender age, he was busy wolfing down the food he had prepared himself with a voracious appetite. Watching him from the corner of his eye, Naoe had to suppress a smile. Even eating with haste, the boy looked nothing but sophisticated. Maybe it was physically impossible for him to look unattractive.

He didn't notice Naoe watching him and that too was nothing unusual. During the last weeks, it was only when Naoe was holding staff meetings, that Saburō's attention had been completely on him. Of course, he would have been trained in military tactics, growing up as one of Hōjō Ujiyasu's son, as a hostage at Takeda Shingen's court. Nagazane apparently had been informed of Saburō's heritage. Once or twice he warned Naoe to be careful of what exactly he was letting "the Hōjō slave" in on.

Naoe failed to see anything dangerous in Saburō listening to their discussions. Who was he going to tell about their preparations? He was utterly alone in a foreign land. The Hōjō retainers had been killed or taken prisoner – or they had sworn allegiance to other daimyō. The Satomi… well, they were far away, Naoe mused. Even if they harbored intentions towards Hōjō Ujiyasu's last living heir, there was no way he could contact them from here or vice versa.

He watched Saburō self-forgetfully catch a renegade rice grain that clung to his finger with a peck of his lips. This time, Saburō looked up as if he could feel Naoe's gaze on him and let his hashi sink back into the bowl.

/\/

"How come you know how to take care of such things anyway?"

Saburō looked at the man who had lain with him twice, but never before asked him an even remotely personal question. It referred to his now-lost status as a daimyō's son, Saburō knew, but didn't seem to contain any mockery. In the broken light of the forest it was difficult to confirm the expression in Naoe's eyes, but Saburō could detect no ill intent. "I spent my childhood in a temple," he answered truthfully.

A faint smile appeared on Naoe's face. "We have that in common, then. I was also brought up in a monastery after –" He fell quiet as if he didn't know how to best choose his words. While Saburō was slightly puzzled, Nagazane looked at the general as if understanding completely what had caused this untypical loss for words.

Naoe threw a quick look at the young bushi. "Your father came to our aid as you may know but it was too late."

He didn't need to define what he meant by ,too late'. Saburō was perfectly able to figure out what had happened based on his own experience of watching his family being stamped out. So Naoe had gone through similar things as a child – with the difference that he had been taken in by his own clan. He'd been given a future.

"Thus I was sent to Myōkō-yama and that's where I spent the next five years until I turned fifteen."

Saburō perked up at that. This sounded most unusual. Children of daimyō would spent a couple of years in temples when they were quite small to remove them from female influence, but later on they would be given into the care of teachers and combat instructors. For Naoe to stay in a monastery when all his peers had undergone weapons training must have been humiliating.

Nagazane was also watching Naoe slightly taken aback, indicating that he, too, hadn't been aware of this episode in the general's life career. "That must have been…"

"Tedious," Naoe said in a dry tone of voice that belied any pain he might have suffered as a parentless child seeking shelter in a temple or at having to stand back behind his peers.

"Is that why you are always so eager to learn new things?" Nagazane asked, a smile evident in his voice.

Saburō looked at Naoe again. Was he? Nagazane's words seemed to implicate Naoe was trying to make up for lost time – which would actually explain his rising through the ranks of Kenshin's army so quickly. Saburō had believed Naoe's position at such a young age to be the result of ambition blown out of proportion. Now it seemed there was another reason behind it, rooted in the unusual circumstances of his coming of age. There was still so much to be learned about this man in whose possession he had been given.

"Maybe," Naoe murmured as if lost in thoughts. "There were so many things to catch up on: politics, martial arts training and…"

"... other new experiences which are common for that age," Nagazane filled in. Naoe didn't answer but a tiny, slightly absentminded smile tugging at the corner of his mouth left no doubt about the nature of the experiences.

Saburō cast down his eyes at the implication, his desire to follow the conversation taken down a considerable peg or two. For a short while, he had only seen the person Naoe had been – the young orphan who had lived through hardships and grew up to become a war hero. He hadn't kept in mind that the general wasn't that person anymore, but a man.

A man like all the others.

/\/

Nagazane couldn't make sense of the Hōjō boy's behavior. At times, he could hardly meet Naoe's eyes while the older man's were lingering on him uncomfortably long. Nagazane was convinced that this shyness was a sham to draw Naoe in. However, there were moments when he could almost believe it. An expression would appear on the boy's face that was… forlorn somehow and cold as if he were inwardly steeling himself for receiving a blow and not letting it get to him.

Just now this expression flitted over his features again. Nagazane caught on it when he averted his eyes from Naoe for a moment. As if something had been said that left a nasty taste in his mouth. Was it because the short conversation had revealed the longstanding bonds of trust between Naoe and Nagazane's family? Of course, the enslaved son of a former enemy must feel out of place with them.

That's right, you don't belong here.

During the last days he had been tempted often times to hassle the boy. After all, Saburō had to be at his service due to his higher rank. Nagazane took care, though, not to let his dislike of the boy get the better of him. It wouldn't do for Naoe to notice him treating his prized possession badly. Nagazane didn't want to cross the older man he admired and was always very careful of how he presented himself in Naoe's presence.

His musings were interrupted all of a sudden by the strong feeling that they were not alone. His gaze shifted to the trees surrounding them, but the forest was impenetrable. The leaves were moving, but it must be due to the wind not because of someone sneaking about out there. Nagazane narrowed his eyes. Whoever they were, they must be standing absolutely still.

He prided himself on his intuition. It wasn't so much that he had heard or seen something moving out there, only a quiet sense of something not being quite right. He was too smart, however, to mention anything of the sort towards Naoe. He didn't want to seem superstitious or frightened of his own shadow.

His gaze returned to the Hōjō boy, his delicate profile illuminated by the firelight. He looked unshakable now, cocooned into his thoughts that were all his own. For some reason, Nagazane couldn't shake off the feeling that this had something to do with him.

/\/

They parted from Nagazane a fair way off the castle. He could be a useful ally, Naoe thought, but he still intended to call on his older brother Akinaga who had been appointed head of the Irobe clan after their father's demise and would make an even better confederate. The more young noblemen at court he could establish favorable relations with, the better his standing against Kenshin-kō's ancient staff members. The old men in turn were doing their utmost to keep the younger officers out.

The time might be ripe for a change of power. The next council session would show how far this latest mission from Kenshin-kō had paved the way for him to assert himself against Uesugi Norimasa and the rest of the noble old codgers.

Arriving at the castle, Naoe left Tsubame to Saburō and went inside to wash himself. Thankfully, his father-in-law was nowhere to be seen. Naoe could do perfectly well without another lecture on the proper behavior of a daimyō. It was highly unlikely that Sanetsuna had forgotten about the latest incident involving Saburō.

Filled with a strange sense of unrest, Naoe went outside again. Even though the sun started setting already, the air was still pleasantly warm and suffused with the droning of all sorts of insects. Saburō was walking back from the paddocks, running the back of his hand over his forehead as if in deep thought.

As Naoe watched him massaging the muscles of his neck in a strangely sensual gesture as he turned around towards the horses one last time, the boy suddenly seemed the one thing in his life untouched of scheming and power play. He suddenly remembered the night before their departure for the border, Saburō's breath susurrating over his sweaty skin after they were finished. It occurred to him only now but for him to feel this tiny breeze, Saburō must have turned his head while still lying underneath him and watched him.

So far he could count the times that Saburō had really paid him attention on one hand. Naoe wasn't sure himself how he came by that thought. The boy certainly couldn't be accused of not taking care of his duties or of behaving disrespectfully towards Naoe. It was more a certain attitude of mind that made him different from the other servants, no doubt rooted in his upbringing as the child of a clan lord. Or maybe there was nothing there at all and it was just his imagination running wild.

Whichever the case, the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Saburō who was gazing into space never saw him coming, but he seemed to sense Naoe's presence behind his back when they were but an arm's length apart. He spun around, his eyes flashing. Naoe easily caught his raised hand. There was little Saburō could do against the firm grip.

"I see Jirō hasn't gotten around to refresh your martial arts training yet," Naoe teased.

Saburō's features went blank. In the depths of his amber eyes a dangerous spark kindled. Naoe prepared himself for a fit of temper, but instead Saburō's arms went slack as if all strength failed him all of a sudden. Naoe realized but a heartbeat too late that the boy was able to simply slip through his grasp like this, without applying any strength of his own.

Like water, Naoe thought. Impossible to hold on to. Already, Saburō had stepped around him, facing him from a completely different angle now which was much more comfortable for delivering a blow. It wasn't lost on Naoe that the boy's eyes showed a different expression now. Before he could decipher it or even had a chance to defend himself, Saburō made his move.

Darkness descended upon him, as suddenly as if he had become blind. In astonishing speed, he found himself lying on his back. As his vision returned, he was staring up into mocking amber eyes.

/\/

Unarmed combat was something Saburō had taken special care in to become well versed in. He wasn't sure why. On a rational level, he knew all too well that even the best of trainings couldn't give him the upper hand in a fight five on one. But he was perfectly able to hold his own against a single opponent – especially if said opponent was a stuck-up nobleman who tended to underestimate his servants even when they'd enjoyed an upbringing similar to his own.

What now, o master, Saburō thought with grim satisfaction staring down at Naoe. His fingertips lay at the man's throat with just enough pressure that it became clear what might happen if he moved.

Naoe stared up at him completely baffled. "That's ninjutsu", he pointed out in an indicted tone of voice.

"Oh, come off your high horse!" Saburō scoffed. Of all the things to get into a fuss about!

The assumption about the origin of his skills was correct indeed. He didn't fool himself into believing that the Fūma had taught him anything of significance. He had picked up a little trick or two that Kotarō had showed him after happening upon him one time in the wee hours of the morning just as Saburō was slouching home after one of his fights. The ninja had given his split lip and brow a critical look and remarked: "If you have to get into fights like a peasant boy who cannot hold his liquor, allow me to show you how to win them for a change."

The familiar, emotionless voice rose from the depths of his memory. In a way they were alike, Saburō thought, Naoe and Kotarō. However, he had seen a different side of the former at least once. That was the difference, he mused. Naoe's emotions were merely reined in tightly. Kotarō never had any to begin with for all Saburō had been able to tell during his time at the court of Odawara.

As if to prove these musings right, Naoe relaxed at the unexpected rebuke. A low laugh rumbled through his chest. Saburō stared in fascination as the man's face changed into that of someone years younger.

"I never know what you'll say next."

Saburō could feel his voice underneath his hand and all of a sudden realized that he was practically straddling the man. He stiffened, his own sudden awkwardness in complete contrast to Naoe's relaxed amusement. As if prompted by his sudden anxiety, he felt a strong hand grip his upper arm as the man effortlessly reversed their positions, laying him down in the grass almost gently. His hips were still lying between Saburō's thighs with the difference that it was Naoe on top now.

Saburō who had gripped the man's arms in the process of being relocated stared up at the serene angular face in a mixture of dread and anticipation. They were lying on a pasture in the broad light of the day. In this setting, he didn't know at all what to expect.

"I won't take you here in the open", Naoe said as if reading his thoughts. But the prospect of later intimacies made Saburō only think of how the shoji did nothing to provide them with even the semblance of privacy. He was secretly convinced that half the household could hear them when they were together.

"I don't mind", he answered without thinking.

They both froze at those words.

"The walls have ears, is what I mean."

/\/

Naoe had to bite back a laugh. Saburō's face had become as expressionless as a mask, but there was a fine blush creeping into his elfin features. His own embarrassment at being brought down this easily vanished. So Saburō had been trained by a ninja at some point in his life, what did you know. The Hōjō clan had been famous for employing those creatures throughout many years, so it didn't come as a total surprise. Still, he kept making the mistake of underestimating his prize.

Taking into account Saburō's youth and inferior position, it was easy to do so. Recent intimacies helped enforce this viewpoint, Naoe knew all too well. He remembered perfectly what Irobe had impressed on him, how Saburō wasn't his to touch, how he better kept his hands to himself. But pinning that slender body to the ground beneath him, he couldn't help but slightly press himself closer. As if desire were making him stupid, he did the exact opposite of what he knew was proper.

Saburō's breath hitching as if in answer to this small hint at things to come betrayed how the boy read his mind, or rather his body language. To Naoe in his hazy state of mind, the boy's self-consciousness felt like an unspoken invitation. During their journey, his eyes and mind had wandered into Saburo's direction often times. It was disquieting to say the least. Nothing had ever been able to break his concentration. He'd always been focused to an extent where he was startled by other people's ability to let themselves be distracted.

And he had brought that about in him, Naoe mused with astonishment as he looked down at the figure sprawled beneath him. He tried to take the boy in as if seeing him for the first time: inky hair spilt on the grass, translucent skin and those fierce, golden-brown eyes that held an unspoken challenge even now that he was in this vulnerable position.

They had been his downfall in the first place, Naoe realized, not the fancy ninja tricks. Standing, he extended a hand to the boy and pulled him to his feet.

/\/

Saburō fought not to flinch when he felt Naoe's hand stroke the nape of his neck. In the dim light of the study, he stood inertly, awaiting Naoe's actions. With his eyes closed, the rest of his senses were heightened. Most curious, he thought, to be here in this same place and again not to understand what was going to happen.

The first time had been extremely formal and unemotional, the second time urgent and discourteous. This was different yet again. Was that why everybody was supposedly so fond of this act? Because they enjoyed the thrill of never knowing what to expect? Saburō couldn't guess.

Naoe slowly undressed him, pausing often times to look at what was being laid bare to his eyes. All his touches were remarkably gentle but to Saburō it could have been worms crawling over his skin just as well. He grit his teeth, hating the attention his naked form was given. His hair had come loose, Naoe running his fingers through it.

Saburō tried to keep his breathing even. Naoe wasn't supposed to know how much this affected him still. There remained but one thought in his mind: the hope that all this would be over and done with soon.

To his unspeakable horror, Naoe seemed bent on taking his time, though. He felt a hand glide down his arm and grab his own, then he was pulled down onto the very futon he'd found himself on twice before. Kneeling beside him, Naoe shed his yukata then his hands were on Saburō again. It would have been much wiser, Saburō knew, to close his eyes, to turn away as he had done the last time, but for some reason he kept looking. It was after all the first time he saw all of his master as well. He had felt all of those hard muscles of course – not with his hands, but grinding against his own flesh.

There were several scars, acquired in Kenshin's wars no doubt. They did nothing to disfigure the overall impression of male beauty. The most prominent was also the most recent one – the one from Saburo's arrow. The flesh was still reddened from the inflammation.

He still hadn't confessed to it.

Saburō found counting Naoe's scars an efficient distraction while the man set to preparing him. It wasn't enough however, when Naoe all of a sudden ran his hand up the inside of his thigh. Saburō reacted with a sharp intake of breath. The stroking hand started to knead his muscles. Naoe's touch wasn't inflicting pain on him, but it was disconcerting in a way that everything else so far hadn't been.

Generally speaking, it took Naoe a long time to get to the point today. He seemed to enjoy running his hands over Saburō's body, all the areas that had remained untouched until now, deliberately avoiding those he had been focused on the last times they were lying together. Once or twice he even went as far as stroking Saburō's hair back from his face. That in particular incensed Saburō. Not only was there no necessity for such pretensions, they also evoked bad memories.

The Matsuda twins and their companions had also tried to show him such travesties of tenderness even while they were disgracing him and causing him pain. It had only made things worse. The memory of those fake caresses induced a familiar burning feeling in the pit of this stomach. In a way, they had been the worst abuse he had suffered that night, besides the betrayal of confidence.

In spite of the sinister scenes replaying in his mind, his body couldn't help but gradually let go of its tension. His breathing returned to normal. Saburō couldn't really explain it, but he slowly became aware that he was far away from that place and time and that the man above him was someone else. He wasn't sure where exactly the divide between Naoe Nobutsuna and the Matsuda brothers ran. After all they wanted the same thing from him.

Maybe it was Naoe being very quiet and not jeering at him. Or the fact that he was using no force other than the right to Saburō's body he had acquired when he became his master. Then again, Saburō thought bitterly, he didn't need to resort to violence when he could rely on a firm set of rules and conventions that rendered any chance Saburō might have had refusing himself to him null and void.

A finger was circling his entrance, spreading oil over the sensitive skin and inside him. Saburō's fingernails bore into his palms again as another one slipped in. No matter how often this had happened by now he could never get used to the feeling of intrusion or prevent his pride from rising.

He couldn't have said how much time had passed when the fingers were withdrawn. Saburō braced himself – only to find that the invasion was being accomplished rather smoothly. He felt almost no pain when Naoe finally entered him. All those gentle touches seemed to have had an effect on him after all. His muscles were completely relaxed by now. Also, he realized that Naoe was being very considerate when doing this. He never pushed inside too quickly, but executed the first thrust always very carefully, giving Saburō the chance to adjust to his girth.

Saburō nearly scoffed at the thought. Just what he needed, being grateful to Naoe because being taken by him felt a little less sickening than his previous experiences had. Whom was he trying to kid? Did he mean to imply that he gave a damn about how Saburō was feeling? Naoe could hurt him all the way he wanted, Saburō thought defiantly, he wasn't reliant on the man's kindness. It didn't make a difference anyway.

Except that it did.

There was that same friction as before, he noticed, as Naoe was gliding in and out of him but something about it felt unusual. With the pain constrained, his focus for the first time shifted to the places within his body where the invading organ touched. It still felt unpleasant to be penetrated this deeply, yet on the way there… He frowned. There was something that created a weird, almost tingling sensation…

Naoe's thrusts had become frantic by now. He moaned loudly, the first sound he uttered since they had come here, and collapsed on top of him. He was heavy, but Saburō found that he didn't really mind the weight or the moist skin against his own. In fact, he had to suppress the impulse to put his hands on the man's back.

Panting, Naoe pulled out of him and rolled onto his back. Their arms still touching, they rested side by side on the futon. Saburō felt strangely dizzy. Relief at the fact that it was over and he wasn't in pain mixed with despair at his overall situation, the knowledge that there was no way to refuse himself to Naoe, neither now nor in the future. He closed his tired eyes for a moment welcoming the darkness like a huge black door falling shut somewhere above him.

He bolted from the futon with a gasp, not knowing how much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep. A soft chuckle sounded in his ears from where Naoe was lying next to him.

Saburō ran a hand through his hair. He had bungled protocol, he realized. Quickly he got up and dressed into his yukata in the half-light of the room. Naoe's laughter followed him outside. Be quiet, Saburō thought irritably. Stepping out onto the corridor he realized that he had put on the wrong garment in his haste. Cursing under his breath, he hurried down the corridor. In the kitchen, Naoe's meal had been prepared already. Ichirō gave him a kind smile that only widened when he saw what Saburō was wearing.

Saburō evaded his gaze, but everybody else present seemed to draw just as much amusement from the fact that he was wearing their lord's yukata. He practically fled with the tray. Of course, they knew. It was impossible to keep anything a secret here between the shoji that didn't muffle a single sound. And the sight of him in Naoe's clothing was just additional proof of their intimate relationship.

He returned with the food to see that his master was still lying on the futon, an arm behind his head, a sheet pooling in his lap, his upper body bared. His angular features were relaxed from the nap they had taken and perhaps also from the activities beforehand. Unbidden, Kōsaka's words came to mind. True, Saburō admitted grudgingly, setting down the tray. He's not hard on the eyes.

Naoe was watching as he carefully filled the cup with sake, then held it out to the man with a bow. Instead of taking it, Naoe cast a look at the tray and said: "You didn't bring anything for yourself?"

Saburō startled. Of course, he didn't. Protocol didn't allow for that – certainly Naoe must be aware of this? "I… cannot drink with you, tōnō", he said, bewildered.

Naoe laughed again and smoothly got up from the futon. He gestured for Saburō to return his yukata. Awkwardly, Saburō rose from the ground and undid the sash. The yukata came off his shoulders. Embarrassed, he handed it over to Naoe and quickly reached for his own, plainer piece of clothing which still lay on the floor where Naoe had tossed it when he'd stripped him earlier.

"You can eat and drink if I tell you so."

Expecting Naoe to order him to go back to the kitchen and fetch some food for himself, Saburō was stunned to see his master slide back the door himself. "Please", Naoe held up a hand in mock deference. "Allow me."

Saburō watched him leave in shocked silence. For the love of the gods, what would Ichirō think if their lord had to come back to the kitchen himself? As if in answer, he heard the gaunt kitchen master's hearty laugh echo down the corridor. Mortified, Saburō sank to his knees and buried his face in his palm.

He tried to calm down. His emotions were in a turmoil and he didn't understand why. Certainly, falling asleep after intercourse like this was reason to be embarrassed, as were the snickers and knowing looks everyone kept giving him, but the real shock came from having let his guard down enough to fall asleep next to Naoe in the first place. He couldn't understand this.

And he was so bloody tired. It must be the journey making itself felt at last, the many miles he had been walking on foot. He remembered the warm, drowsy feeling spreading through his body when Naoe had been touching him earlier this evening, how his limbs had started to feel all heavy and warm. For a moment he wondered if the man possessed some tricks of his own, a special kind of ninjutsu.

It had made him weak, he realized in retrospect. He had reacted to the man's touch in a way he wasn't comfortable with. And later when Naoe was inside him, there had been that peculiar awareness of where exactly he was being touched on the inside. His attention had been drawn to that spot, he'd almost regretted it when things had come to an end before he could figure out what this meant...

Drained, he awaited Naoe's return, wishing he could have just had his body to himself again.

/\/

Seeing his prize this flustered, this human, was a welcome change in Naoe's eyes. It almost made up for the boy bringing him down in hand-to-hand combat earlier this day. He felt strangely elated when he returned to his study, knowing that Saburō was waiting for him there. Outside, night had fallen by now. Looking down at the small tray Ichirō had arranged for Saburō he couldn't suppress a chuckle. The kitchen master had taken their abandoning protocol in stride and Naoe was happier that way.

All those complicated conventions for intimate relationships just weren't necessary, he found. He had enjoyed the last hour, he realized as he put the food he had brought on the small lacquer table and watched Saburō have a hesitant taste of it, the opportunity of taking things slow, to make himself familiar with Saburō's body. Rarely had he expended the effort to get to know a bedmate this well. Even his own wife was no exception.

Eating in silence, stealing glances at his prize from time to time, he wondered what was so different about this boy who had been thrown at him by an enemy – an insult veiled as a gesture of approval. Slowly, very slowly, he was starting to grow fond of the change in his life this had brought about even if it had taken another old man meddling for him to actually claim his possession.

And he was going to do it again, Naoe realized as they finished their meal. He wasn't going to fool himself any longer. What had started out as a measure of warfare against his father-in-law had transformed into something that was remarkable in its own right. He preferred not to think too much on why this was happening and why now. It just was. As the head of his own clan he was accountable to no one – and certainly not to a dead man.

Getting up, he stretched with relish, pushing all thought of Irobe's warnings to the back of his mind. He felt tired now. The small nap they had taken together was hardly apt to restore his strength after the long journey. Saburō started to collect the small bowls and dishes they had eaten from in order to take them back to the kitchen. In other words, he meant to scurry off.

Oh no, Naoe thought almost indulgently, the boy's intentions clear as glass to him, you don't.

Once in his lifetime, Naoe had stolen something. A knife. It wasn't really theft, he had tried to tell himself, when he'd come across it left behind by one of the other boys at the monastery of Mount Myoko. He had just found it after all. He knew exactly whom it belonged to, though. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to give it back.

He found that his feelings now resembled somewhat his feelings then: his bad conscience weighing against the magnificence of the possession, the latter winning out easily, the former going down without a fight.

"Sleep with me", he ordered without further ado, effectively forestalling any attempt of Saburō's to get away.

/\/

Author's Note: I checked my own storyline and I think there'll be at least eight more chapters. Is that okay with you? Do you still like where this is going? :-)