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Kazama strikes me as the possibly lecherous type, especially in Sekkaroku XD and he does things at his own pace :D
Hanashobu
Chapter 11: Gorou-oji-san.
I jolted and immediately forgot all about the dream I'd been having. I wiped the corner of my mouth and crinkled my eyelids, squeezing them shut against the horrible sunlight.
There was a slight chill in the air and the unfiltered sound of the forest outside filled my head. A twinge of pain withered down my spine and I curled into my pillow, stiff but warm.
"What are you doing, Seaweed Head?"
I jerked up, another ache shooting through my skull and down my entire body. I let a hiss escape and held my head.
"Hung over? I'm not surprised after all the sake you drank last night,"
I turned to him slowly, shading my eyes as I glared at him. Why the hell was he still in my room? He lid on his side, his flaxen hair half flattened.
Someone kicked me in the backside and I jumped despite my body's protest.
"Morning already?" Kouta groaned, holding a hand over his mouth. He was a bit on the pasty side.
"Your stomach is showing," Kazama commented.
I fixed my haori absently; glad I'd worn the black crisscrossed band of material over my chest. I hoped he was secretly disappointed. He was a pervert so he probably ogled anyways.
My forehead was throbbing painfully, like a pressure was building behind it. I massaged it gently, crumpling forwards; Kazama's legs were in the way. I lay down and rested my temple on his shin, which wasn't the best pillow.
"Oi, don't go back to sleep there,"
I growled at him, pinning his disobedient legs, which only made my migraine worse. My head felt hot.
"Are you okay?" he questioned. He stopped squirming for my sake.
"I don't get it," I moaned, "I've drank more than that before and got off with less,"
"Do you even remember how much you drank?"
That silenced me. "I remember Hayate coming by, but not much else," I'd even forgiven him for that. I felt like kicking myself.
Kazama scoffed, "That would explain waking up with you on my feet, just like a small child,"
I felt tempted to bite his ankle but stopped myself. I didn't want to accidently hurt my already sore jaw.
Kouta stood up behind me but I didn't have the energy to sit up and actually look.
"Thanks for the sake, Oni-sama,"
"Are you going home?" I asked, "what about your sake?"
He burped in response. "You can keep it,"
I laughed, which turned into a slight cry of pain. "Come get it whenever you want,"
His presence suddenly disappeared and I concluded he was gone off to be sick somewhere less humiliating. It'd only take me a few seconds to fall asleep again.
Kazama's foot twitched and I peeled my eyes open reluctantly. I was facing his feet, which seemed huge up close. I pretended not to notice the twitch and feigned sleep. It was hard to imagine that his feet were dwarfed by Takeshi-sama's.
He cracked the joints in his toes and I huffed, irritated. I rolled off his legs and into a ball. Jeez, my head hurt.
"Are you going back to sleep? It's past breakfast already,"
"It wasn't served so I'm sleeping 'til dinner." A zabuton was just in my reach and I grabbed it, protecting myself from the merciless morning sun and the jabbering from Kazama and the forest. "How much did we drink last night?"
"Too much," he replied dryly. "There's only ten left,"
Nine, huh? "I wasn't lying when I said we'd drink eight or nine."
Kazama rumbled deeply in his chest, a sound that resonated in my head. "You insisted on challenging me to a drinking contest, that's what finished off the last two. The fox was the judge,"
I mashed my lips against the zabuton, "You won?"
Kazama was quiet.
"I won? Victory! Ita-ta-ta-ta!" my ears rang from my own voice.
"Strange, I've never seen an Oni with a hangover before," Kazama mused. "That proves women shouldn't drink sake,"
"I still won," I grumbled.
He snorted, jabbing his big toe into my spine. A shiver of pain ran through me and I furled into myself more.
"Are you okay?" he repeated, slightly more sympathetic.
"Uh-m, it'll go away in a bit," I hadn't ever felt this type of pain before and wondered if it really was a hangover.
"The sake cups and dinner trays have already been cleared away," he observed; his baritone voice softer. I didn't bother confirming with my own eyes.
"Nee-san's shikigami probably cleared it away. She might have done it herself but she's been taking it easy these past few days." I speculated it was the shikigami, since Nee-san would have had a fit after finding us sharing a common room. At least, she did when she found me and Kouta passed out last time.
"What happened to her?"
"Hijikata's seal didn't come without a price," I retorted.
"Are you and Chizuru affected as well?"
He sure was in a curious mood. "No. The seal had to be written in ink that was saturated with blood. Nee-san used hers without telling me; otherwise I would have given mine."
He rested the flat of his foot between my shoulder blades, gently. "Disgusting," he supplied.
Abruptly, the torture from my head came to a halt. It was like the pain had never been there. I propped myself up, running my hand through my long ponytail as I contemplated.
Kazama sat up, awkwardly crossing his legs. He gave me a quizzical stare, which was extremely funny with his bed head hair. He looked more hung over than I had felt.
"No more headache," I announced cheerily, "I told you it wouldn't last too long." I stretched, taking a gulp of crisp mountain morning air.
Kazama regarded me with a quirked eyebrow. "You just wanted to sleep in," he accused.
I gave him a miffed expression. "My head really was hurting,"
His sanguine eyes became opaquely dark, like he was thinking deeply. He gestured for me to come closer and I did so with an annoyed pout. His moods changed so quickly sometimes.
He bewildered me by placing his palm against my forehead. His hand was cool in contrast and goosebumps rose on my arms.
A crease appeared between his eyebrows and I almost told him that he'd get wrinkles if he kept doing that. I'd be calling him an ossan by then.
"You have a fever," he diagnosed, as if he even knew about stuff like that.
"I've never, ever, had a human illness before," I sounded skeptical even to myself. Fevers were something I associated with human ailments. "You're just cold from sleeping with the door open,"
"Stupid, that applies to you too,"
"I was using your leg as a pillow," I defended.
Kazama rolled his eyes. He hovered over me, gripping the back of my neck to keep me from retreating. We bumped foreheads, touched noses. I closed my eyes, afraid to go cross eyes from staring back into the depths of his brilliant ruby eyes.
If I hadn't had a fever before I definitely had one now. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was overwhelmed by the proximity and the tickle from each exhaled breath.
He leaned back, his countenance serious. "There's no doubt that you have a fever," Kazama noticed my beguiled demeanor and smirked devilishly. "It must be quite the fever; even your face is flushed,"
I tried to come up with some witty remark, or even a dumb one, but not a sound would leave my gaping lips.
"Ayame-chan, Gorou-oji-san is coming to visit us!"
I sprang to my feet, broken from the stupor. "Really?" I exclaimed, stumbling to the door. "Today or tomorrow? When does Takeshi-sama come?"
Kazama's gaze was on my back but I ignored it for the most part.
Onee-san poked her head into the room, raising a delicate eyebrow when she spotted Kazama. The corner of her mouth turned up slyly.
"Gorou-oji-san is at the foot of the mountain right now. My familiar just saw him," Nee-san reported. "Takeshi-sama sent one of his shikigami earlier, though he won't be here until tomorrow."
"What's the occasion?" Kazama piped.
"Anniversary," I threw over my shoulder.
"You have tatami markings on your face," she informed Kazama.
I 'skipped' away, tramping through the forest in seconds, long ponytail catching in the branches of bristled trees. I even forgot my sandals in my haste. I hadn't noticed the tatami print on his face. Funny how distracting his eyes were.
I was relieved by the change of scenery. In just a few minutes I broke through the thick foliage and onto the trail in front of Gorou-oji-san.
"Oji-san!"
He wasn't surprised by my appearance, smiling jollily back at me, as though he had expected me ages ago.
"Ayame-chan, how are you?" he wore his dark hair long like I did, though slightly shorter than mine. His skin was beginning to weather, but his eyes were forever young.
"I'm great," I hugged him, voice muffled.
He rested his scruffy chin on the top of my head. "I think you've gotten taller," he teased. I hadn't. "Anything interesting happen since the winter?"
I bounced on my heels, dragging him up the trail. "We have three new boarders,"
"Oh, sounds fun. The temple must be an active place now. How long have they been here?"
"They arrived just this past week and a half," I wanted to explain it all at once but I was afraid of it coming out all in a jumble. "It's odd, but they were fighting to the death and now we're housing both of them, and a woman,"
Gorou-oji-san laughed good naturedly. "Were they fighting over said woman?"
I pinched my lips together. Had they been? "I don't know, but at least they're not still at each other's throats." I shrugged. "They couldn't even if they wanted to. The man who won, Hijikata, is still in bed from his wounds and the other one, Kazama, is recovering too,"
Oji-san contemplated that, "So your sister is running the lady around, like a servant?"
I giggled. He knew Hinata too well. "Uh-m. Chizuru seems happy to help though, and she's a really good cook,"
"So, who are you taking care of?" Oji-san inquired.
"Kazama. He's stubborn, proud, and a bit of a pervert,"
"A pervert?" he echoed incredulously. "He hasn't done anything to you?"
I snorted, "He's too weak to try anything, at the moment," I didn't know why I tacked that on. Not like he'd actually do anything, he just liked to say things he should keep to himself.
Oji-san clapped me on the back firmly. "You're a tough girl; you won't let any man take advantage of you."
"Of course!" I agreed enthusiastically, "I'm going to be the leader of the Agano someday,"
He chuckled, "You're going to have to strengthen your body first," he sobered, choosing to remind me of the condition. "Don't forget that you won't be able to access your Oni strength."
He always mentioned that. "I don't know how to strengthen my body!" I whined. We'd had the same conversation several times already. "Should I just go around knocking trees down until I gain some muscle?"
"You need to find someone as strong as you," he suggested, "another Oni, one that can be trusted."
I wondered if I should have told him that Kazama was an Oni. I'd let him know later, if he didn't already find out by the time he met him.
The rising elevation and strong sunlight had a negative effect on Oji-san who wasn't used to mountain features. He was out of steam and sweating by the time we got to the temple. It couldn't be helped, he was getting old.
Nee-san had dinner ready for us and we ate together in the front room, sharing stories back and forth.
"How is Hijikata?" I asked Chizuru when she came to take our empty trays. I was struck by just how beautiful she really was. She'd been haggard the first few days from the stress but she'd improved and recovered.
Chizuru smiled shyly. "He's much better. His wounds are still troubling him but he's able to sit up now,"
"That's great; I bet he'll be on his feet soon,"
Oji-san shook his head, "You're overestimating us humans again. He might be stuck in bed for another two weeks, even longer."
"Uh-m, it's easy for me to forget," especially when I spent all my time with Kazama.
Chizuru bowed to us before leaving, politely shutting the door quietly. I didn't really get Chizuru, she did such unnecessary things. She should have known it was okay to loosen up here when she was in familiar company. Oji-san wouldn't have cared.
"How about this 'Kazama' man?" he queried.
"Kazama's already up and about. I can probably take out most of his stitches today." I was still hesitating to outright say he was an Oni. Gorou-oji-san trusted Oni even less than my sister did. I'd only seen them from afar up until now and the danger they posed didn't feel real to me.
"His wounds must have been shallow despite being on the receiving end,"
Oji-san would be staying for a while so I couldn't hide it for long. "He was stabbed through the chest," I nonchantly remarked. At least, that's how I tried to sound.
Gorou-oji choked on his tea. "And he's already moving about?"
"He's an Oni,"
There was a sizeable pause as Oji-san pondered how to proceed. He already understood that I had clearly neglected to tell him.
"Why didn't you mention this earlier? Are you sure it's safe to have him here? What if he gives away your location?"
Typical of Gorou-oji-san. He was always worrying that we'd be discovered and killed.
"He's an Oni of the West and he owes me his life," I reasoned.
"Even so," Uncle challenged, "you don't know his exact connections."
"I trust him,"
His saturninity enveloped me. It touched me that he felt compelled to worry for me but at the same time I thought his anxiety was exaggerated. The only time I'd really been in danger had been nine years ago. Even now, he tried to dissuade me from joining the Agano on the grounds that he didn't want me to be harmed.
I stood up, addressing him distantly. "I have to check Kazama's wound,"
He nodded slowly. "I haven't properly sat down and spoken with your sister yet," he conceded. He just wanted to ask her what she thought about Kazama and why she had allowed him to stay.
I let myself out before him, making my way out to the outer ring of rooms. I opened Kazama's door from the inside, startling him.
I smelt the lingering scent of fish and spotted the tray in the corner, waiting to be retrieved. "Good, you've already eaten,"
Kazama was sitting in the doorway, gazing over his shoulder at me. One leg was folded up to his chest, muscular café showing. It wasn't too muscular, just enough to be noticed and gawked at.
He composed himself. "Wound care?" he guessed.
"Uh-m," I bent down to the desk, picking up the scissors. "Did you notice any of your stitches growing over?"
"No, you'll have to check for me," Kazama drawled, lazily freeing his arms from his yukata.
I felt myself blushing and mentally scolded myself. I hadn't been affected by his half nakedness the other day.
"Still have that fever?" Kazama taunted. "Maybe you should take it easy, I'm sure I could handle your sister for one day."
"No!" I felt like biting my tongue off. "I'm fine so shut up and sit still,"
I plopped down behind him, carefully examining the wound on his back.
The difference was astounding. I couldn't believe he'd healed so much over night. I assumed it was because the internal damage was repaired.
I snipped away the dozen or so stitches, pulling them ruthlessly. He flinched once or twice but refused to give in and complain to me.
Hesitantly, I crawled around to look at his chest. The blood was threatening to rise to my cheeks again and I bit the inside of my check to distract myself. If he noticed he didn't say anything.
The entry wound was much the same as the other. I emphasized a sigh of disappointment. "Looks like I won't need the tattoo needle today,"
"Tch,"
I felt my confidence returning. I hated when Kazama was in control of the situation and I enjoyed being able to make him feel uncomfortable like this. "Are you sure you don't want a tattoo?"
"I would never get something as dirty as a tattoo," he rebuked.
I cut and yanked the first stitch, causing Kazama to jerk and let a harsh breath past his drawn lips.
"Tattoos are not dirty," I schooled.
He turned his head away, ignoring me as I continued my torment. I suppose noble families, even those from the demon nobility, frowned upon things that invited bad reputations. I felt determined to change his opinion, though I couldn't think of a tattoo that would do his complexion justice.
"I'm amazed," I began, "your wound is completely closed up now. Must be nice, having such a body." He deserved some praise for enduring my onslaught of intentional harassment.
I held the scissors loosely in one hand and the clipped stitches in the other, appraising the white and pink scar with my doctor's eye. I was too busy staring to notice his sudden change in disposition.
He seized my wrist, knocking the scissors away and pressed my palm against the mark, preventing me from struggling. It was still an injury that could be aggravated and he had assessed that I didn't want to cause him any setbacks.
I still would have punched anyone else but my brain had melted in my head. I looked into his simmering irises once and forgot any cuss I could conjure.
"Payback,"
Kazama's strength overcame mine, if only by a little, and he pinned me to the floor.
I surveyed his crimson gaze, confusion dulling my indignant glower. His eyes weren't lit by his normal wayward light. Even his amused grin was gone. I raised my free hand to instinctually beat him away but he deftly captured it.
"You said you don't get sick yet you had a headache and a fever this morning?" he summarized.
"Hah? So what?" I scowled at him. "I didn't have a fever, that was your imagination," I knew that was a lie though. There was a constant buzz in my head, like the hair rising moment before lightning strikes.
"Hn?" impatiently he bumped heads again. I was too irritated to blush. I was annoyed with myself for letting him have his way. "You still have a fever,"
'I'm half, maybe I can catch human illnesses," I really didn't want to admit that. I preferred to ignore the boundary between human and demon. I was terrified of ending up like Nee-san someday, weak.
Kazama leaned back, allowing me some room. "Yet this is the first time you've been sick,"
"There's always a first time," I muttered.
He looked dissatisfied but released me after a moment. I scooted away, snatching the scissors as a means of self-defense. I almost chucked them at him when he smirked.
"So, your uncle is here?"
"Uh-m," I felt my rage boiling inside me. I wanted to scream and kick something. I hated capricious people, always changing the subject and pretending not to notice. "Why so interested in my health?" I was tired of following his whims.
He shrugged, still trying to weasel his way off the topic. His expression was subtly guarded. "No reason,"
He asked questions like it was his right then acted like he was above answering me. I let out a frustrated growl.
I returned the scissors to the desk, collecting the stitches and throwing them in the trash. Arguing with Kazama was pointless. I'd just end up throwing a tantrum and storming off into the woods for an hour.
Kazama readjusted his yukata and walked out onto the deck, leaning against the railing, observing a group of sparrows pecking at the base of a tree. I stalked off to my old room, slapping the bamboo blind away.
I missed my room. The clutter was oddly comforting, snug even. Expertly, I navigated my way around piles of knickknacks, searching for my kiseru. After a few minutes I gave up. If I couldn't find it, it wasn't there. I'd forgotten where I put my old kiseru.
I slipped out, dejectedly. "Hey," I started unwillingly. "Kazama, you wouldn't happen to have seen my kiseru?"
His lips turned up in a smile that was anything but innocent. "Not recently,"
I really, really, wanted my kiseru. "You're not lying?" I tried to drain the edge from my voice but I hardly succeeded. I was already convinced he stole it. I hung my head over the deck, long hair dancing across the ground as I checked for my ask pot. Thankfully, that was still in place.
Kazama approached and I straightened, half expecting him to boot me over the deck. I could see him doing something like that. I swept my ponytail over my shoulder. He definitely had something to do with my missing kiseru.
He reached into his sleeve, a conveniently deep pocket, revealing my kiseru with a flourish of his hand.
I took a deep breath to keep a furious roar to myself. "Give it back," I ordered.
He lightly tapped the pipe against his hand. "You should be thanking me,"
"Why?" I sneered. He must have been really bored when he stole my kiseru.
He continued, "Chizuru was in your room after we cleaned up a few days ago. Your kiseru chased her on her way out,"
I paled. Nee-san had been there that day.
Kazama deduced what the sudden change was from. "Exactly," he pompously responded.
Begrudgingly, I thanked him, holding my hand out for it to be returned.
He shook his head, still tapping away. "Now would be a good time to quit,"
I ran my hands through my ponytail nervously. Sure, it was logical to quit after almost being discovered. I didn't have the willpower though.
"Please return that," I managed civilly.
He didn't budge.
I usually didn't lower myself to begging, though I was dangerously close. Either that or wrestling, I'd win too. My smoking pipe was on the line.
"Please? I haven't smoked in three or four days,"
Kazama chuckled imperviously. "I haven't smoked in months,"
I curled my hand into a tight fist, longing to pull back and sock him. He was just jealous.
"Ayame-chan?" Oji-san called.
I startled and Kazama stuffed my kiseru back into his sleeve, holding it hostage. He seemed to be holding my arm behind my back with it.
"Oji-san, over here," I hollered back.
Gorou-oji-san turned the corner, spotting the two of us against the rail, suspiciously natural. I felt guilty for wanting to smoke when Gorou-oji had just arrived.
"You must be Kazama, how do you do?" Gorou-oji-san greeted. His voice was insignificantly strained. Nee-san had tried to convince him Kazama was harmless. He'd just have to test that now.
Kazama nodded, not quite friendly but minimally respectful all the same. "I've been better. I'm alive thanks to your nieces,"
I thought it was unlike Kazama to admit such a thing but figured even he liked to make good impressions. Most demons I knew hated interacting with humans. Oni must have been more tolerant, considering they appeared the same on the surface.
Gorou-oji-san looked distinctly conflicted to me.
"Forgive me, but you don't look like the Northern Oni from around here,"
He already knew he was a Western Oni. He was prudently questioning him, determining Kazama's trustworthiness by his own standards.
Indeed though, Kazama did not look like the Oni from around here. The Oni I was used to spying from afar were shorter and burlier with darker hair.
Kazama shrugged. "I'm not from around here," he glanced sidelong at me. "Neither is she?" he also already knew the answer to that. Both of them were being so wary.
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. The stifling atmosphere gave me the feeling that they weren't getting along. They weren't.
Oji-san chose to ignore Kazama's retort and addressed me instead. "How's the Imperial Chrysanthemum? You haven't put any chips in it since then?"
"Nope," I rested my hand over the ghost of a hilt. "Where'd I put it?" I murmured to myself.
Kazama ran his hand through his hair. It was plain to me that he wanted to laugh. He held it in though, "In my room,"
"Oh?" I hadn't noticed. I wondered when I'd put it there.
I let a relieved sigh slip out and left them to their awkward staring.
The Imperial Chrysanthemum was in the corner, stood against the wall next to the Douji-giri's stand. I had an idea. If Kazama wanted to pull my arm, I'd pull right back.
"Oji-san, do you think the smithy could fix this sword?"
Kazama stiffened. Without looking he knew exactly what I had. I tossed it to Oji-san who caught it easily, curiously regarding it.
He unsheathed it, a look of pity in his eyes as he took in the chips and cracks. "The steel is still alive so repairing it should be possible. Kuri-chan will probably have to take it apart though,"
"Alive?"
I frowned at Kazama, "Uh-m. You were using a demon blade without realizing it?"
Oji-san returned the sword to its scabbard. He swept back his hair, gladly about to give Kazama a short lecture. "Demon steel is alive in the sense that the feelings and memories of the demons whose bodies became the steel remain. It's impossible for weak willed humans and demons alike to wield a blade of that caliber. Those who have tried and failed to control a sword with such origins lose their mind in the process,"
"That's the first time I've heard of it,"
Oji-san's pride inflated a little. "Agano village is the only place in Japan that currently has the ability to forge demon blades, thanks to the Yamaguchi smithies." He paused, "It's not surprising you didn't know. All the same, this is quite the blade,"
"It's the Douji-giri Yasutsuna," Kazama replied smugly.
Oji-san's eyes narrowed. No doubt he was suspecting Kazama of something devious.
"Who were you trying to slay with such a blade? The man you fought is just a human,"
Nee-san had explained all the details to him by now. I wondered what he thought of Chizuru.
"The man I fought against was an Oni for a short time," Kazama spat back.
He might have been offended by the mention of a mere human defeating him. I thought it sounded like he was defending Hijikata rather than himself.
Oji-san was famous for his short temper despite being extremely kind. I could tell that he was about to start an argument.
"Say, Gorou-oji-san, aren't you tired from hiking across the countryside?"
Oji-san inclined his chin in agreement, more for my benefit. He was irritating my patient, my guest, and he respected me enough to back off.
"I suppose I could borrow the bath for awhile?"
"Uh-m, go relax and take your time,"
Oji-san threw Kazama his sword before gliding off. He was graceful despite being one hundred percent human.
"He's confident for a man his age," Kazama remarked.
I sighed, "He'd be nice to anyone except a suspicious Oni with a thorny attitude,"
"Thorny attitude?"
Review please :D
Thank you to everyone who reads each new chapter and those who have added my story to their favorites and alerts x3 I love you all~
Next chapter introduces Takeshi-sama :D sorry for all the original characters . it can't be helped D: practically everyone else died T~T
Historically speaking, Saito-san and Shinpachi-san are still alive but most everyone else major in Hakuouki dies Q.Q Kazama should be (is) dead but I love him too much for that xD that's my one Godly act. Actually, sealing Hijikata's Rasetsu thingy was pretty Godly too XD
