Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai 7, or its character. I do own the people not in the show however.
The forests around Kanna village were very quiet. The think clusters of large, primeval trees muffled any sound not a few feet away. So in the dark of night there was only the chirp of some night birds, the song of the crickets, the buzz of the fireflies. And then there was the dull smack of a fist punching the trees.
Mai's form is perfect. It was as if she was practicing katas through the air and not against the solid hulk of a tree. She didn't even flinch when her knuckles came in contact with the solid wood of the trunk. She looks calm and serene. Which was honestly scarier than if she would just show what she was actually felling.
Mai hasn't done this since she was a young, frustrated with her training and the burning need to prove herself.
That she wasn't a failure. That she was someone. That she wasn't the trash of some whore or whoever thrown away outside the Omashu temple for the crows to find.
That memory caused her to flinch more than her fist pounding into the bark of the tree.
How horrible it had been to be and have nothing and live with the fact that no one wanted you.
Some would live in crushing sadness over not being wanted.
Mai had just felt angry.
When she was younger, she was angry all the time. It was understandable. Being young and not understanding what your feeling and with no one to guide you on how to channel it properly. And children can be cruel. She was constantly teased and bullied for being an abandoned orphan left at the door step. The one knife they could use to cut the prodigy deep and make up for their own insecurities. Though she was quiet and reserved, she lashed out easily when prodded. She swung to hurt too. The first time she had really hurt someone was when she was six and had pummeled an older boy to the point he had thrown up blood when she had been pulled off him.
She had expected to be thrown out or killed when they brought her before the Grand Mal, the supreme leader of the Omashu. Even at that young of an age, she knew the idea of someone like her being spared was absurd. She was nobody who had assaulted one of their own. But whether it was the Grand Mal's benevolent mercy or perhaps he saw the potential in her tiny body, he had spared her and taken her as his disciple to train.
"Anger can be good, like any other emotion. But like all emotions, it can also be a poison. If you wish to continue being angry all the time, I won't stop you, little bird. But if you're going to continue, we have to focus that fury into something more useful then bludgeoning fellow genin, yes."
The sound of a crack echoed back from the tree as her fist pressed into it again. For a moment she had though she had broken her hand. It wasn't her hand though. It was the tree. The mighty oak's bark finally splintered under the continued force of Mai's punches. She stopped, looked at her fist dully, and started punching again.
When she was little, punching things like trees was a way she had learned to purge her soul of these emotions. But it wasn't working. She was still so angry. But still so filled up with anger she still felt empty. So she just kept hitting until she could feel something.
A hand suddenly snapped out to grab her wrist. "Stop," Kyuzo said calmly, looking at her with that typical impassive calm he normally exuded.
Mai just blinked at him. She was surprised. One: that he was even here. And two: that he had stopped her. Her strikes were quick. It was hard to catch her. But then again, when you're hitting the same thing over and over again, the chances of you getting snagged do tend to go up.
"Leave me be." Mai told him coldly. She wanted to be alone, with her thoughts and this tree and she would hit the damn thing till it came down or her hand broke whichever one came first if she felt like it!
"You're bleeding." The samurai told her still just as calm.
Mai blinked again in surprise. She looked at her fist and then the tree, the blood from her spilt knuckles running down both from her new round of punching. Funny, she hadn't even noticed the pain.
Kyuzo, seeing that she wasn't going to assault the defenseless tree anymore, let her wrist go.
"What do you care?" She asked him, cradling her busted knuckles to her chest and flexing her long fingers to make sure there was no other damage. There wasn't.
"You can't fight with a broken hand." He told her plainly.
"Correction: I can't fight as well with a broken hand."
"Don't be foolish."
"I'll be how I see fit samurai. I don't need a lecture from someone like you."
"It won't do any good. He made the decision." Kyuzo told her finally and Mai looked at him briefly before huffing out a sigh.
"It's a stupid decision and he's a fool that could get us all killed."
"The farmer or Kambei?"
Mai smirked a little as she looked back at Kyuzo, recognizing by his own faint smirk that it was his merger attempt at snide humor.
"Both I guess," She told him. She could feel the anger inside her losing momentum a little. She sighed. "I hate traitors. They'll get us all killed."
"Like they tried to kill you?" Kyuzo stated more than asked.
The red samurai wasn't a fool. When someone had this much anger about something he knew it had to be personal. Judging by her level of anger this wound had cut deep and was fresh enough to have salt rubbed in it.
Mai's cat shaped eyes flashed with fury and she glared at Kyuzo with deadly violet eyes. Her anger picking up speed again.
"Don't presume you know things about me samurai! My life prior to our happy misfortune of meeting is none of your business!" She lashed out, unable to control it this time like all the times before.
"Was it you then?" Kyuzo asked, still placid, but egging her on intentionally. He had never seen her like this. So fiery with rage that she look like she would explode. Her mask in shattered pieces that littered the ground. He found it...exciting. He was actually anticipating her lashing out to strike him, physically or verbally. He had a fleeting thought about how this might make him crazed or something, but dismissed it quickly.
That got the flood gates to open.
"How dare you accuse me of being a traitor to my kind?" Mai yelled at the samurai. She couldn't stop herself now. Her loyalty was her life. And who was he to judge her?
"So it wasn't you then?"
"Of course not! I would never betray my own kind!"
"But someone did."
"That's none of your business!"
"What happened?"
"I can't tell you!"
"They tried to kill you."
"I know that!"
"Why?"
"Because they killed the Grand Mal!" Mai's hands clapped around her mouth as if it would put the words back in her mouth. But it wouldn't. She had said it. It was out there now for the whole world to see.
In a moment of heated fury and indignation at the samurai's impassive expression and badgering questions she had broken her vows of secrecy to the Omashu and declared classified information to an outsider.
She felt sick. Her life had been dedicated to the vows she took and for the first time in 10 year she had broken them so carelessly in the heat of a moment. And now that they were broken, it was like her life with the Omashu was truly over.
The blonde pressed her back against the tree she had been punching for support. Her legs felt weak and her body broken as she tried to unsuccessfully will away hot tears from the corners of her eyes.
She hadn't cried since she was five.
No, she thinks she might have cried briefly when she found the Grand Mal's body in a pool of blood on the floor. But everything had happened so fast she couldn't remember.
She slumped to the ground, even the trees support unable to keep her up under the weight of everything that was swirling around inside her. All the anger, the hatred, the depression, the shame. Without the Omashu, who was she? They had even given her her name. She wasn't Mai without them.
The blonde saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked to see the samurai sitting next to her. He wasn't close but close enough, with still about a foot or so of space between them. "What are you doing? Go away! Leave me alone!" The blonde woman snapped at him. But Kyuzo didn't move though.
He just sat with his back against the tree, not looking at her or saying anything. He just sat. Patiently, like he was waiting.
Mai was so wracked with too many conflicting emotions to argue. So she just let him sit there quietly as silence came between them.
"I don't want to talk about it. So don't ask me." She said after a while, hating the weakness of her own voice. "And if you tell anyone about this I'll kill you." She added, trying to sound intimidating through the wet sound that clouded her voice.
Kyuzo said nothing, but his eyes moved over to her. And where she had thought she would she pity or loathing of her weakness was just his normal calm and understanding.
He felt for her. Empathized with the mourning kunoichi.
This feeling of purposelessness and self-loathing was something all true samurai faced after the war, no matter what side they were on. They were obsolete. They had been replaced. And before you could find work as a thief, or a performer, or a bodyguard, you had to have a moment of shattering before you could build yourself back up again into the person this new world needed you to be.
He knew this temporary crack in her mask wouldn't last. She was strong. So he would give her this moment. And he would wait.
I had sooo many conflicting feels with this chapter. Did it make sense? Was it good? Did it work with the story? Were the characters still in character? Till finally I went "lsdjglkjhgskdlh fuck it!" and posted it.
If there was ever a chapter I would like feedback on, this one was it. Please, please, please review! Thank you!
Hugs and Kisses to MoonDancer and my-forgotten-rose for reviewing the last chapter.
