Warning: This story contains shounen ai, which implies male/male love. Please do not read if such ideas upset you. Please use your good judgment. This fiction also contains character death.
Rated R for violence, strong language and sexual situations.

Disclaimer: "Yoroiden Samurai Troopers" does not belong to me. I am but a lowly slug.
Any comments or suggestions are welcome as long as they are constructive. Heck, if you just want to chat samurai troopers, feel free to drop me a line.
Comments can be made at: Li_bell_ule@yahoo.com

Thanks, Li

Chapter Two
Confronting the Years


Seiji stared at him unable to respond-- his body stilled, shocked into a stupor. Ryo's blue eyes were wide and honest. They shared the same genuine surprise in each other's presence.
        Ryo's appearance had changed very little. Oh, he was taller now, perhaps taller than Seiji, and he had grown into himself, but his presence was the same. Familiar. And he still held a fondness for worn, blue jeans and a t-shirt.
        "Seiji..." Ryo whispered. His name rolled softly off his tongue, such a sweet sound Seiji remembered, that hearing it now was almost cruel.
        Then suddenly, Ryo flung himself at him, pulling Seiji into a tight embrace.
         "I can't believe it's you!" He said, bubbling with the unfailing effervescence that was so uniquely his own. "You're really here."
        Ryo pulled back. "Seiji?" Uncertainty in his gesture-- had he overstepped himself?
        "I am here just as surely as you are." Seiji responded finally. Despite his intentions to maintain his indifference, he melted against Ryo's fire and stole a touch at his arm.
        "How good it is to see you," Ryo said, but his eyes bore sadness. "You feel it too-- that's why you're here." Disappointment was not quite expelled from his statement.
        "Yes." Seiji's voice was thick, distracted. Why couldn't he concentrate? "It's been a while, hasn't it Ryo?"
        Ryo nodded, unable to keep a smile from his lips.
        Still amazed, they stared at each other-- touching with their eyes.

        Suddenly, impulsively almost, "Come with me?" Ryo asked, "Please?" His eyes were kind, suggesting no aggression.
        Seiji smiled despite himself.
        "All right." He said simply, allowing Ryo to lead him once more.

*****

        The house that Nasuti had shared with them had once been impressive. Now, it sat wearily in its foundation, moaning as the wind thrashed against it. The white paint was peeling off to reveal old, gray wood underneath and many of the faded, red shingles were missing, leaving gaping holes in the roof. Most of the grand windows were intact, but overcast with cobwebs and dust.
        The property had previously been quite valuable, but after Nasuti's sudden death her parents were in such distress that they let the estate decay. They had planned to sell the sad, old house, until a hurricane over three summers back, destroyed much of the property and prospective buyers stopped showing interest. It was too expensive to upkeep.
        With no caretaker, the grand house would continue to deteriorate until the Yagyu's were ready to deal with it.

        As Ryo and Seiji made their way up the steps, the wood creaked and moaned under their weight. No one had visited this place in years.
        Ryo pushed against the large, swollen door and it opened after one hard shove.
        "I didn't lock it..." He murmured. "I never planned to be away so long."

        A gust of stale air permeated Seiji's senses as he followed Ryo into the house. Covered with dust and gossamer cobwebs, a preternatural atmosphere loomed. Seiji peered into the darkened rooms, seeing his memories play in the shadows.
        His eyes were not to be trusted, Seiji determined.
        There was the couch they had all piled onto to watch the news, and later the Saturday afternoon movie. Yet, it wasn't-- this place was dust capped, dismal and spiritless.
        Ryo went into the kitchen. Only, it could not be the same space Shin had kept immaculately clean-- chased Shuu out of just before dinner-- It was as if time stopped suddenly-- coming to a leering halt-- abandoning the life of the house.
        Seeing this place now contradicted the only happiness Seiji ever knew.
        "I can't..." Seiji whispered, taking a step backward. "I can't do this."
Seiji fled the room, going back the way they had come, through the swollen front door, down the rickety steps--
        Ryo caught up with him there, as he reached the dead grass of the front yard and snagged him by the elbow.

         "Ryo." Seiji's voice was low, yet demanded attention. Ryo let go of his arm.
        The warriors stared at each other-- a conversation conveyed through unwavering glances.
        Ryo felt himself burn under Seiji's unrelenting violet gaze.
        Shaking his head, his remark contorted with anger, Ryo declared, "You left us."
        "What choice did I have?" Seiji demanded, folding his arms.
        "You didn't even say goodbye." Ryo's voice was rising with emotion. "You just took off like none of this-- like none of us mattered."
        "I am not proud of abandoning all of you, but I had little option otherwise."
         "Nobody made you leave."
         "Is that what you think?"
        "Seiji--."
        "No," He interrupted, taking a step closer. "Is that what you think, Ryo? Is that what you've told yourself?"
        Ryo was afire with indignation, smoldering with a dangerous quiet.
         "Are you still so blind? Could you not see how much you--." Seiji halted, his hard glare boring into Ryo. He couldn't bring himself to admit, not even after all these years, how severely Ryo had hurt him.
        "I could not save her, Ryo." He murmured. "It was beyond my power to restore Nasuti from death."

        It would have been better had Seiji attacked him-- instead of this—guilting him with truth.
        Ryo's eyes tempered. "I know that." He said quickly.
        "Do you?" Seiji whispered, daring him.
        Ryo swallowed. "Yes."
        He'd been dreading and yearning for this ever since Seiji walked out. Needing to release this burden from his soul, and yet not knowing how, Ryo faltered for a moment in the silence.
        How to explain what he barely understood himself?
         "I kept thinking you'd come back," Ryo whispered. "Deep down, I thought you'd return to kick my ass." He smiled slightly. "I was terrible to you." He admitted. "I can't explain it, but I've spent a lot of time trying to remember why I was so angry. It was as if the day you left, my insanity left with you... all of a sudden, it was lifted and I was horrified."
        "Then we both have regrets." Seiji replied quietly.
        "Yes." Ryo took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and let the words flow from his heart to his lips. "But I need to say this. I am sorry, Seiji. I've wanted to tell you for so long. I know I hurt you and I regret it more than anything else. I wish I could take it all back. I was such a fool."
         "No more a fool than I."
        "Forgive me..." Ryo pleaded earnestly.

        He should be angry. He should be furious. Ryo had irrevocably changed his life and after five years, had only offered a modest apology for all that he had uprooted.
        "...I don't know how to be around you, Ryo." Seiji admitted. "My head is telling me that I should be angry with you, but my heart won't let me."
        Seiji found himself wanting to let it go, wanting to be familiar with, and close to someone again.
         "Forgiveness must be mutual." He carefully replied.
        "We forgive each other then?" Ryo asked hopefully.
        Seiji smiled and nodded silently.
        A mixture of relief and gladness spread across Ryo's face in a lopsided grin.


*****

        A mighty gust whipped at the old house, causing the structure to creek and moan in the wind. Only the cusp of spring, the descending sun took its warmth with it, leaving the evenings in bitterness. The two warriors had settled into the living room, finding the other rooms of the house too cold and a bit too daunting to inhabit.

        Seiji curled himself into one of the large armchairs, tucking his legs beneath him on the seat cushion, while Ryo stood at the hearth, starting a fire in the fireplace. Now that the astonishment of Ryo's presence had worn off, curiosity had taken Seiji over.
        "What happened after I left?" He asked.
        Ryo lifted the poker from the hearth and pushed at the smoldering embers, sending a flurry of orange flakes into the air. "We all scattered to the wind." He knelt on the floor and looked up at him. "Touma was the first to go after you left. He was furious with me. And you."
        Ryo sat back, stretching out his legs on the floor, warming his back by the fire. Silence passed between them until Ryo spoke again.
        "Shuu headed back home a few months after Touma left. Well, he was called back..."
        "What happened?"
        "His father had a heart attack. It was real touch and go for a while. He survived it, but now he can hardly maintain the family business. Shuu is going to step in."
        "Taking over the Chinese food restaurant?"
         "Eventually." Ryo smirked. "He told me he liked his family's food better when he didn't have to serve it."
        Seiji remarked, "That sounds like Shuu."
        "Have you heard at all from Touma?" Ryo asked.
        "Only a couple of times in five years. He's in college, studying at Tokyo U." Then Seiji added, "But... I think it's mostly to get away from his family. Things have been rough since his parents divorced."
         "That's too bad." Ryo said.

        There was a lull in their conversation, until Ryo asked hesitantly, "Do you know about Shin?"
        Seiji nodded, saying, "I got a letter from Touma, last I heard about either of them."
        "I went to visit Shin once," Ryo began. "It was right after I'd found out."
        Seiji listened patiently as Ryo struggled with the words.
        "They had him restrained so he wouldn't hurt himself..." Ryo's voice faltered. "He-- he didn't recognize me-- countless battles, we fought side by side and he had no idea who I was."
        Ryo paused again. "The doctors said he'd get progressively worse. That was two years ago. He's probably completely gone now."

        Shin had fallen into hard times, slowly going insane. The sudden isolation was too much for him to cope with. He started talking about netherspirits and heavily armored warriors, which he fought against. His mother, not knowing what to do, had checked him into an institution and left him there for the doctors to deal with.

        Ryo felt his anger swell. "I couldn't do anything, Seiji. I've never felt so-- so helpless."
         "There was nothing you could have done."
         "If not me then who?" Ryo challenged. "If I had been there for him maybe this wouldn't have happened--."
        "Ryo, you cannot blame yourself." Seiji said. "If you are to blame, then it is my fault too."
        "You're not the one who drove everybody away!"
        "I am the one who broke our circle."
        Ryo sighed, raking a hand through his black hair. "What a mess our lives have become. If only--"
         "No good has ever come from dwelling on the 'if's." Seiji said. "You cannot change what has happened."
        "Stop making so much damn sense!" Ryo growled.
        "You'd prefer it if I let you wallow in self pity?" Seiji asked, eyebrow raised. "Let you bask in misery?"
        "Yes!" Ryo said defiantly, humor in his eyes. "If I am to be miserable I am glad that you are here to keep me company." Suddenly, the mirth was gone from his countenance, a sullenness shadowing his face. "I haven't had a companion for many years..."

        Seiji suspected, with a deep sadness, what Ryo was not saying.
        "Where's Byakuen?" He asked gently.
        Ryo visibly stiffened, his chest halting in mid breath at the mention of his beloved white tiger.
        Turning from Seiji, Ryo stared into the flames of the fire, murmuring indistinctly, "He's dead."

        The depth of Ryo's loss was immense.
         Byakuen had been with Ryo longer than Seiji had known him. As he understood it, Byakuen was the only family Ryo had left-- his father had disappeared on an expedition, and had been presumed dead long ago.
        "I am sorry," Seiji said, watching Ryo's back. He heard Ryo sigh, seeing his shoulders droop in defeat as he recoiled away from the memory.
        "...that's okay, you didn't know." Ryo raked his fingers through his hair. "It was odd. I let him out one night and he didn't come back. I waited two days before I searched for him. I mean, sometimes he'd go out and not come back for a few days, but this was different. I never found him... but I know that he's dead. I'd hate to think that a poacher--." Ryo trailed off, obviously upset.

        Not wanting to think of Byakuen, Ryo stood and turned back to Seiji.
        "Where did you go for all that time?" He plopped down on the hassock in front of Seiji's chair, a puff of dust escaping as he sat.
        "To the dojo." Seiji's voice was surprisingly calm. "To my father."
        Ryo looked up at him sharply, well aware of the relationship between Seiji and his father. From fragments of carefully guarded conversations over the years, Ryo had been able to piece together Seiji's past.
        With great pride in his heritage, Sensei Date had raised Seiji, in a very strict, traditional Japanese upbringing, but not much else. It was with scorn that he regarded his only son, who resembled the wanton, American woman that had trapped him with her pregnancy. After only a few years of marriage, she took off, saddling him with a permanent reminder of his weakness-- his three-year-old son, Seiji.

        "I had forgotten," began Seiji, tightly. "Just how much I dishonor him." Blond hair covered half his face, but it was not enough to obscure the torrent of emotion that raged behind his violet eyes.
        Leaning forward, tenderly placing a hand on Seiji's knee, Ryo asked him, "How can that possibly be?"
        "Gaijin..." Seiji spat, letting his anger slip through, as he tugged at his blond hair for emphasis. "I am his greatest sin."
        "No, Seiji," Ryo said, daring to look him in the eye. "Don't believe that."
        A hard glare from Seiji told him that this subject was not up for debate, so, like his hand falling from Seiji's knee, Ryo let the conversation drop. He had almost been there-- almost broken through the partition Seiji built around himself.

        Things had not gone very well since the two had parted five years ago. It seemed that Nasuti's death was the stem of a long line of misfortunes.

        As he listened to the crackle of the fire, Ryo felt sleep starting to creep up on him. He settled back down on the floor, leaning against the front of Seiji's armchair, his neck pressed into the seat cushion, his head resting gently against Seiji's knees.
        "What brought you back here?" Ryo asked drowsily, eyes closed.
        "A feeling." Seiji shrugged. "The armor, I guess. I don't really know."
        "Nasuti led me here." Ryo disclosed quietly. He yawned, adding, "I know it was her."
        Seiji didn't answer him, but Ryo could have sworn that he felt his fingers brushing through his dark hair.
        "I think she wanted us to reunite." Ryo whispered, before sleep claimed him. "To make amends."

        "Perhaps." Seiji murmured cryptically.
        He hoped Ryo was right, for he felt that they may have been rallied for a much darker purpose.


Continued in Chapter Three: Revelations