Brotherly Love

It was coming to the end of the fourth day.

Shunsui rested his elbows on the sill, gazing absently down at the ant-like house staff that scurried across the ground below, each one apparently bent on some vital errand as they disappeared into the hallways of the Kyouraku estate. None of them spared even a moment to glance up at the uppermost chamber, or to meet the gaze of the fourteen year old prisoner, locked so firmly away inside with four padlocks at the door and bars at his window.

His Uncle had soon learnt that simply shutting him in his room was no way to keep him anywhere, so he had taken extreme measures to ensure his nephew was always exactly where he expected him to be.

But this was even more extreme than usual.

So he was worried, after all.

Four days ago, Tokutarou had had his twentieth birthday.

And four days ago the messengers had come announcing that, as Matsuhara's eldest legitimate son, Tokutarou was now acknowledged as Head of the Kyouraku clan.

His Uncle had run out of time.

Yet he still hasn't worked out what to do about me.

Shunsui pursed his lips, for once taking little pleasure from having thwarted his Uncle's ambitions so plainly. Never in all of his fourteen years had he hated the man so much as he did at present, and locking him away in the cell-like tower room was only a small part of the root cause. Shunsui's true grievance ran deeper – it ran back to the harsh words and condemnations that had flooded his ears the night before he had been so firmly confined in the upper reaches of the estate.

It had to do with Saku, and his Uncle's innate ability to taint everything with his malicious, suspicious mind.

Shunsui sighed, wondering absently what Saku was doing now.

Deep down he realised too that, at least in part, he had been the cause of their sudden dismissal from the estate's surrounding lands. Because of his actions, Saku's father would have to work his trade for the commissions he could get from travellers instead of relying on the goodwill of the Kyouraku estate to see him by. Though Shikimura had seemed to think the punishment of banishment was a light one, Shunsui had fiercely resented it from the start.

He did not understand all of the behind the scenes manipulation and discussion that must've taken place, for he had been kept to quarters and under observation while his Uncle had raged at Saku's father from behind closed doors. Yet even so, he didn't need a full explanation to know what the implications were.

And he had seen and understood the look of censure in Saku's dark eyes as she had followed her father away from their small house.

She and her father would have returned to their draughty, dilapidated old home by now, some two or three ri west towards the border that divided Kyouraku land from the neighbouring territory belonging to the Endou-ke. Though the house was not fit to be lived in, and had played host only to rats and other vermin for some years, they had had no choice but to go there. What they would do in order to support themselves, Shunsui didn't know. His background was privileged enough that he realised he didn't truly understand what poverty or hardship were.

But he did know that, like the hypocrisy of the Gotei, they were both concepts that he was strongly coming to hate.

And he also knew that because of him, Saku had been forced out of her home. And because of it, she now hated him.

For this thing alone, Shunsui knew he would never forgive his Uncle.

Saku had been his best friend – in some ways, his only friend. The one thing that had made his life here bearable.

It might have been all right, Shunsui reflected sadly, had they not been discovered on that particular afternoon. Maybe Saku would not have been scolded, and her father not sent away from the estate if he had not acted on the impulse inside of him just as his Uncle's household chief of staff was patrolling the area looking for him. If he had not chosen that moment for his innocent, adolescent experiment, everything might have been cleared up as a chance encounter by the water's edge.

He frowned, resting his chin in his hands as he struggled with his emotions.

He would probably never see Saku again, now. The way she had looked at him when he had sneaked out of his Uncle's office in order to apologise to her still cut through his thoughts, vividly burnt there as though he would never forget it as long as he lived. And now they had left…now they would never be coming back.

Because he was the son of a Kyouraku lord.

And she was just the daughter of an impoverished local craftsman.

Shunsui knew that no matter how old he lived to be, he would never understand the logic behind that explanation. On the contrary, the longer he had been aware of the restrictions of being a Kyouraku, the more he had felt that to be free like Saku and her father was a much greater privilege. For the first time, he had truly lost his temper and told his Uncle his feelings on the matter. And as a result, he had been confined here like a prisoner – locked away in solitude with only his mealtimes bringing him any company at all.

A commotion from the ground below startled him back to his senses, and he squinted down, making out his Uncle's chief of staff in the centre of the surrounding area as he gave out barked, anxious orders to the already frantic staff. Despite himself, Shunsui found himself full of curiosity. What had happened, then, in the brief moments he had been daydreaming about Saku and the lost chance that he would never be able to repair? Clearly, something was amiss, for he had never seen Shikimura quite so on edge before.

Then his eyes widened as he made out the cluster of men and women surrounding the gate, his sharp gaze making out the distinctive colours and the emblem that patterned the breast of their clothing.

Kyouraku retainers, then.

But not his Uncle's.

Shunsui frowned, noticing that in the midst of these familiar suits there were four or five who bore a different emblem. Shunsui gazed at it for a moment, dragging up the right information from the depths of his brain as he struggled to identify it. At last, however, he had his answer.

The Shiba-ke.

A faint smile touched his lips.

So his brother had come, then, at last?

He stepped away from the window, sinking down on his bed and leaning up against the wall as he slipped his hands behind his head. It was not his business, after all, or his problem…he had no part in the dynastic struggle that had preoccupied his Uncle's every waking moment since the slaying of Matsuhara eight years before. So far as he was concerned, it didn't matter who had control of the manor or the land that surrounded it. All he knew was that he did not want it. And he had no intention of doing anything to help anyone get hold of it.

Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind, there was a commotion from the bottom of the steps that led up to his cell, then the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs and despite himself Shunsui jumped, gazing at the old wooden door in apprehension as a firm, decisive fist rapped three times against the panelling.

"Shunsui? Are you in there?"

The voice was not one he had heard before, and Shunsui hesitated, uncertain of what he should do.

There was a pause, then the knock came again.

"Shunsui, dammit, if you're there, speak up. Unless you plan on rotting there for all eternity, damn well say something so I can hear you!"

At this brusque manner of address, Shunsui's eyes widened.

Who at his Uncle's manner had ever spoken to him in that abrupt, matter of fact tone of voice?

"I'm here!" He responded, even as he heard the sound of tools clashing against the locks. "I'm locked inside."

"Then that housemaid was telling the truth." He heard that same voice mutter, then, "All right. Break the locks and let me see for myself exactly how deep this family's poison runs."

"The locks won't give, sir. They're forged metal and high quality." Another man said.

"Then break down the door." Came the unequivocal response. "You can do that, surely, can't you? Even if your swords can't break the metal, they can surely slice through an aging wooden door?"

"Yes, sir!" Came the replies, and Shunsui froze, staring at the door in dismay as he heard the sound of metal scraping and slashing at the wood surface. To begin with it sounded like an army of rodents had invaded his tower, but then the first blades broke through, the glittering tips catching the light of the sun that streamed in through the chamber's only window. Within a matter of moments, a large hole had been beaten through, planks and panels shoved aside by the hard pommels and determined thrusts of a group of burly retainers, and as the door buckled, a young man came forward, stepping through the gap and into the chamber itself.

For a moment, Shunsui stared at him, taking in his unmistakeable Kyouraku clan clothing, coated in wood dust though it now was. At the stranger's waist hung a red-guarded sword, and the man's gloved hand was already half closed around the hilt, as if anticipating some kind of sudden ambush on entering the small room.

He held up his hands, hastily getting to his feet.

"I don't have a weapon." He said honestly. "And I don't intend to fight you or anything. That's not why I got locked in here…I'm not going to attack you."

At his honest words, the man hesitated, then smiled, releasing his grasp on his sword.

"I know that." He said quietly. "I just didn't know if you were alone here or if someone was keeping watch."

"Keeping…watch?"

Shunsui blinked, and the newcomer nodded.

"I've heard from your mother all about it. All about everything, in fact." He said simply. "When you stopped writing to her eighteen months ago, she wrote to me and begged me to do something to ensure that you weren't dragged into something you weren't able to escape. I wasn't able to do anything about it till now, but I did ride to the manor yesterday to meet with her and to properly consolidate my standing there. She impressed me in a lot of ways, your lady Mother. I thought that the son of a woman that strong must be someone not easily broken to someone else's will. And so I came here, to find you locked away like a prisoner in a cell not fit for a disciplined servant."

He frowned.

"Father would have hated that." He said grimly. "And I don't like it either."

Shunsui did not respond, and the stranger rested a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You don't even know who I am, do you, saying things like this to you?" He asked ruefully, and Shunsui gathered his wits, nodding his head.

"Tokutarou-niisama." He said softly. "I knew from the moment you stepped in the room, sir. Because you look a lot like Father."

"I see." Tokutarou eyed him keenly. "You must have been young when Father died, however…yet you remember his face so clearly as that? I was under the impression from Yoshiko-dono that you barely saw him when you were still in her care."

"That's true." Shunsui admitted, his mind flitting to the night his Father had lost his life. "But it's not something you ever forget, sir. The face of your Father. I couldn't forget him. Not even a little."

He eyed his companion apprehensively.

"What happens now?"

"What happens?" Tokutarou pursed his lips. "That depends on you, I think. Your Uncle seems quite determined to make you an obstacle in my claim to the Kyouraku clan leadership, but I don't think you feel the same way, do you, Shunsui? Otherwise why would he lock you away, knowing that I would no doubt come to confront him?"

"Because I kissed a girl whose father was a craftsman." Shunsui remembered belatedly how he had intended to give his brother the impression of his own idiocy, yet somehow the confession only pained him, a sensation that only grew as Tokutarou began to laugh.

"Then you truly are Father's son, are you?" He asked lightly. "I see. I suppose we all have to learn about these things in one way or another. How old are you, anyhow? Thirteen, perhaps? Fourteen? I suppose it's time you found out about the opposite sex."

"Fourteen, sir." Shunsui somehow felt unsettled, as though all his resolve had been brushed away in the light of his brother's casual, friendly approaches. He had often imagined Tokutarou to be cold and distant, a brother who had not had any interest in the younger child his father's second marriage had spawned. Yet here he was, standing right there in front of him. Almost as if…

"Oniisama, did you…come to Uncle's estate…to make sure he recognised you as leader of the clan?" He asked softly. "Or…did you come here…to find me?"

"Both things." Tokutarou assured him. "Our Uncle is a dangerous, scheming, greedy individual, after all. When mother died, Father asked her kin to take me in and train me, because he knew that as well as anyone else. I think he felt, sooner or later, it would come to this point. And he wanted to be sure I didn't come to harm."

He smiled sadly.

"Only he didn't have time to do the same for you." He murmured. "He wrote to me, after all, not long before his death. And he told me that he was worried about what might happen in the future. But by the time I read his letter, you were already brought here. And until now, I had no power to claim you. If I had tried, it would have been seen as a Shiba invasion. And you might have been killed instead."

Shunsui stared.

"Father…worried about me?" He whispered. "Even though…he barely looked at me once?"

"Father often wrote about you and your mother to me." Tokutarou confirmed. "About how he didn't want to taint you – either of you – or your innocence by allowing you too close to his disgrace. He knew he was out of control, Shunsui. That he'd lost his will to fight and had begun to slip into bad habits that got him from day to day. But he wasn't a cruel man. And he never wished anyone harm. In the end, that's what killed him. That he didn't want to kill anyone else."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I think you might be more like him than me in that regard." He said softly, brushing the hilt of his sword. "It's only the fact it's the will of the clan that I haven't yet slit Uncle's throat for all the things he's done to try and wrest the leadership away from our branch of the family. But if he causes us further trouble, I will do it. In this I'm not like Father. In this I'm more like my Shiba kin."

He smiled, as distress glittered in Shunsui's eyes.

"Ah, but you really are Father's son, aren't you?" He murmured. "You don't want me to kill him, even though he's kept you a virtual prisoner these eight years?"

"I don't think killing each other solves anything." Shunsui said with a sigh. "It just causes more complications and creates more work."

"Well, for now, I don't intend to do it." Tokutarou told him frankly. "But I am placing him under house arrest here with some of my most trusted companions in charge of keeping him out of trouble. I hoped to take you back with me – back to the main estate, where your Mother is waiting to hear news of you. But if you don't want to…"

Shunsui hesitated for a moment, an image of Saku flashing before his eyes. Then it faded, and he slowly shook his head.

"If it's no trouble, I'd like to see Mother." He said firmly, making up his mind as he put Saku out of his thoughts. "I'm not smart or strong or much use in any regard, oniisama. But I can at least not try and fight you or steal what's yours by right. I don't want to be head of any clan, and I don't want to be used as a figurehead for it, either. So if it's all right, I'd like to go back home. Even though I don't know now if it's really a home at all."

"For me either, since I've spent so many years with my Shiba relations." Tokutarou admitted. "So we'll both make a new start there together."

He patted Shunsui on the head, and strangely Shunsui did not feel put out at having been subjected to such a condescending gesture.

"You're young yet. There's time to find your strength." He added. "I'm sure you have it, after all. If you're truly Father's son – it must be in there, deep down inside. And we'll find a way to bring it out – your true purpose as part of the Kyouraku clan."