Plum rain

Age 13/12

[Juubei]

Juubei leaps the large puddle without slowing down and turns the corner for the last stretch, the last few meters' sprint towards the shelter of the Kakei home. Kadsuki is straight behind him, one arm held over his head in a futile attempt to protect some of his hair from the rain the skies have opened up and loosed upon the day, the other bunching the material of his kimono, holding as much as possible of the long hem off the ground and away from his legs so he can run unhindered. Even so, the expensive fabric is spattered with mud and both boys are soaked through from head to toe, and Juubei just knows that somehow it is going to be all his fault that the rainstorm decided to roll in out of nowhere while he and Kadsuki were playing out in the open with nowhere to run for cover. This sort of thing always seems to happen to him.

The two literally dive through the air to reach the shelter of the covered terrace and sit there a moment, both panting, Kadsuki with his head lolled forward and leaning against Juubei's shoulder. It's that warm damp patch against his side that rouses Juubei after a moment, and he pokes his friend's ribs with a gentle finger. "Hey, you're dripping wet. You'll get ill if you don't change out of those clothes." He takes hold of Kadsuki's hand and pulls him to his feet.

"You're just as wet as I am," Kadsuki replies, but Juubei just shakes his head and opens the door. Kadsuki doesn't seem to realise that that isn't the important thing, he is, and its Juubei's duty to take care of him.

At the sound of voices in the entranceway Aya pokes her head out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She gasps at the sorry sight of her son and the Fuuchouin heir. "Juubei!"

Juubei winces. Yep, his fault all right.

"Just look at the state of…" she hurries toward them and crouches before Kadsuki, removing his hands from the hem of his kimono and examining the dark patches and stains winging their way across the pastel cloth, then sighing and gesturing to the paler strands against the brown hair tucked up in her bun. "You're turning me grey, the two of you. Kadsuki-kun, I can't send you home in this state. Would you like a bath while I try and save this? I'm sure we still have one of Sakura's old yukata that you can wear while I try and get this cleaned up for you."

"Ah, I'm sorry to be so much trouble, Kakei-san," Kadsuki apologises quickly, already reaching behind to loosen his obi. "But Juubei's not to blame. We were just playing."

"Nevertheless, he should be looking after you, Kadsuki-kun," Aya turns to the offender. "Juubei, run some water and show our guest where everything is. I'll find something for him to wear afterwards – you just look after him for now." As Juubei leads Kadsuki towards the bathroom he can't quite fail to notice the look his mother sends after him. Oh yes, there will be Words later about this, he's sure…

"I got you into trouble again, didn't I?" Kadsuki says quietly as Juubei slides the door closed behind them. He looks around the small white-tiled bathroom with curious eyes, finally working the intricate tie at his back and beginning to unwrap the long belt from his middle. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Juubei moves over to start running the hot water, eyeing the bottles lined up beside it dubiously. He isn't sure which ones should go in for that clean herbal smell in the water whenever his mother draws a bath, so in the end he settles for uncapping all of them and dropping a small amount from each into the swirling water. Behind him Kadsuki's kimono rustles, and as his cheeks suddenly flush and warm up his movements become more hurried. "I'm done here, so I'll just be outside if you need anyth--"

"Wait." Kadsuki, already half out of his kimono and holding it closed with one hand, steps in front of him before he can escape out of the door. The smaller boy looks his dripping, muddy form up and down with his mouth set in the way Juubei has come to know and fear. "Aren't you going to get cleaned up too? What if you get sick?"

"Oh, I-I'll be fine," Juubei evades. "I'll go in once you've done, there's the rule of guests first you know and…"

The little pout gets larger and that familiar I want something and I'm going to get it crease appears between Kadsuki's eyebrows. "You're so old-fashioned, Juubei! Are you embarrassed? I'm not. Just pretend we're at an onsen, or--"

At first Juubei mentally thanks whatever gods watch over out-of-their-depth 13-year-old boys for the knock on the bathroom door and his mother's voice calling through the wood, "Kadsuki-kun? Here's one of Sakura's yukata from two years ago. It might be a little big for you, though." Then, however, she adds "do you have your kimono ready? I can take it and start getting it cleaned up now."

"Thank you, Kakei-san," Kadsuki calls back, and with a whisper of pink silk Juubei only just has time to spin round to stare, mortified, at the tiled wall as the door is slid open a little way and Kadsuki's hands appear in the corner of his field of vision holding everything he was wearing a moment ago. Another swatch of colour that he assumes are the borrowed clothes from Sakura, and the door shuts and he's alone again. With Kadsuki. Oh.

There's a chuckle from behind him, and he can feel Kadsuki surveying his back with that amused look on his face. "All right then, fine. You can stay like that if you want." The sound of his feet on the tiled floor moves away, and after a moment Juubei can hear the slide of the shower hose from its holder on the wall. A few fumbling sounds (apparently Kadsuki isn't used to working a modern shower attachment, and it takes him a few tries before he gets it to do what he wants) and the hiss of the water drowns out any other noises.

Juubei stays where he is, staring desperately hard at the gaps between the tiles in front of his nose and trying very much not to think about anything at all. It isn't working very well. Now and then Kadsuki's voice cuts in on his non-contemplation. "Can I use this shampoo?"

"Um, yes…"

And back to wall-study it is.

Finally the patter of water stops and is replaced by the splashing of Kadsuki getting into the bath, and Juubei counts to ten and turns round hesitantly. Only Kadsuki's head can be seen above the cloudy water – it looks like he did put the wrong bottle in there after all – and he is watching Juubei with a bright, interested and altogether far too pleased with himself expression on his face.

"Um…" Juubei hesitates awkwardly, hand hovering protectively over the ties for his jacket before Kadsuki gives an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes, closing and covering them with his fingers. "Is this better?"

Not wasting time to answer, Juubei pulls off his clothes and washes quickly, then crosses over to the tub and rolls back the plastic cover, and stops again. There's another short internal struggle before he suddenly wonders if Kadsuki is peeking between his fingers, and with a small yelp he clambers hurriedly in to squat at the other end. The tub is only small, but if he keeps his knees bent protectively up against his torso he can get away with not touching Kadsuki at all. Still, after a few minutes of being left in peace he slowly begins to relax: the milky jade water is warm and comes up to his chest – as Kadsuki sits across from him it laps against his chin, and when he uncovers his eyes he giggles and pulls a face, and Juubei tries not to snort laughter in case it encourages him.

Finally he heaves a contented sigh, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes and tipping his head back onto his shoulders when there's a great splash of water from Kadsuki's end of the tub and half the bathwater jumps out and crashes down on him. Spluttering and snorting the herbal taste from his mouth and nose Juubei squints incredulously in Kadsuki's direction, where the smaller boy is grinning impishly with his palms flat on the surface of the water, then lifts them up ready to slap them down again and give Juubei a second dousing when the other boy dives towards him with a sound caught somewhere between a roar and a laugh, his discomfort either forgotten or relegated to the back of his mind for the moment, grabbing the younger boy's shoulders and ducking him beneath the surface.

Kadsuki comes back up spluttering and giggling. "H-hey, aren't you supposed to be looking after me? Not trying to kill me!" He tries to brace himself against the sides of the narrow tub but his hands slip on the smooth surface, and he squawks and clings to Juubei for balance, when the other boy mock-growls "I'm your doctor, Fuuchouin-sama, and I know just how long I can hold you under to make you sorry!" He tries to duck him again, but Kadsuki slips out of his grasp and scrambles to the other end… but the bath really is too small for that and Juubei catches him again easily, chanting "are you sorry, are you sorry?" as more water spills over the side and swamps the tiled floor.

[Toshiki]

Fifty-two small boys punch and kick the air in unison. At the end of the set fifty-two enthusiastic voices fill the temple grounds, expelling the ki tightened in their muscles and ligaments into a spring morning already shimmering with heat.

"Again!"

The set begins again, perfectly structured martial forms that flow one to the next. Each strike precise, measured; each kick powerful, graceful – the movements honed and refined through the centuries of Murasame tradition.

Toshiki stands at the top of the stairs that clamber precariously down from the great temple hall. Arms crossed in front of him, he looks over the fifty-two fierce, intensely private battles going on before him. None of the fighters even reaches up to his breastbone.

The set finishes, the young students frozen, fully extended, in the final strike. There is no movement save the slight tremble of tensed muscles as Toshiki starts down the steps. Below him the students are spaced out across the grounds: twenty on the lowest level, in the courtyard itself; twenty on the higher bridge at the foot of the steps; twelve ranged on the wide steps themselves. Now he moves among them, correcting a posture here and there, throwing the occasional light punch to force a demonstration of acceptable blocking technique, asking low questions and meeting the correct answers with only a twitch of a smile and perhaps a quirked eyebrow. This is something he does often, and he does it very well. As the foremost of the boys his own age, he is the most qualified to take the younger students through the basic skills that form the foundation for later mastery of the ki techniques. Out here there are no musty texts idling full of self-important Buddhist ponderings, no classmates with a scathing comment or sideways sneer, waiting for an opportunity to start a fight (only if weighted around three-to-one in their favour, of course), just a group of young boys not unlike him a few years ago and the quiet acknowledgment of his teachers who have granted him this responsibility.

His foot shoots out, pushing against the calf of the small wiry boy beside him.  "Lower that stance a little more… There. Does it hurt?"

"…Mm."

He nods. "That means you're doing it right."

The session continues. The younger boys all listen with grave faces; both Toshiki's skill and his reputation in the school are well known to them, but here only the former matters. They know this, Toshiki knows this, and a certain ever-present weight seems lifted from his shoulders as he trains with them. He doesn't let up on them for an instant, demanding complete attention, the fullest outreaches of effort from each of the boys moment by moment, but perhaps there is a loosening of the ki as it flows through him, tensions ebbing away.

The morning draws on, and towards noon he turns toward the east and looks up into a sky rapidly closing in with clouds. The wind comes before it, a warm breeze that ruffles through his hair and slides past to enfold the temple grounds in its silent rush.

"The rain's coming," he says, and the chill in his voice makes the younger children turn and exchange glances, troubled for some reason they cannot place.

[Kadsuki]

"Here." Juubei's mother turns and hands an oversized canvas umbrella to her son and looks the two boys over carefully, making a final check that the Fuuchouin heir looks about as presentable as the rules of his station require. Seemingly satisfied, she nods and straightens again. "Take him straight home, Juubei. Straight home, understand?"

There's probably a suppressed yes, yes, I know sigh in Juubei's voice, but he answers with a quiet "all right" before stepping down into the narrow entrance and slipping on his shoes. As Kadsuki makes his bow and says all the things a guest is required to remember to thank a host for, the older boy waits patiently below the overhanging roof until the courtesies are over. Then Kadsuki hops into his own delicate geta sandals and comes over to join him, moving as fast as the freshly washed kimono will let him. Juubei hoists the umbrella over their heads, careful to pull Kadsuki in close beside him to shield the smaller boy from any rogue drops, and the two begin the walk up the long and winding path that leads back to the main estate.

Outside the warm enclosed space under the umbrella, the plum rain pounds down fiercely onto the clean earth, cratering the soft ground and bringing out a rich brown colour that already seems spilling over with summer. The large waxy leaves on the trees and bushes that line the way in clumps and clenches are beaded with droplets of water, and the sound of the rain hitting and bouncing off the fresh greenery all around them adds a satisfying counterpoint to the beating on the canvas just over their heads.

Still feeling overly warm from the bath, Kadsuki fans himself with the hand that isn't looped companionably around Juubei's waist while his lungs strain a little for breath in the heavy humid air. Suddenly he stops, and his hand moves from Juubei's hip to tug at his sleeve instead. "Come on… I don't want to go home just yet." He sets off at a typical Kadsuki pace, disregarding the confining tube of material around his body as much as is possible, and since his hand is by now firmly clenched around Juubei's wrist – the one holding the umbrella, no less – the other boy has little choice but to stumble along after him, leaving his protests of "but Kadsuki… my mother said…" behind to get soaked in the downpour.

But Kadsuki isn't planning to go very far. Soon Juubei can recognise the ornamental bridge over the stream and the bamboo thicket beyond, their familiar trickle and rustle drowned out by the drum of the rain before he is dragged over, pulled through, and finally stands in the clearing that houses the small teahouse where all this began. He pauses, just standing and looking with some nameless expression hiding behind his eyes, and in turn Kadsuki stops and glances back at him, a small smile playing on his lips. Could it really be almost two years since he first saw Juubei in this place, standing right where he is now, a younger Kadsuki running towards another boy who was even then bigger, stronger, more centred than Kadsuki thinks he could ever hope to be.

But his patience doesn't last all that long, and he's soon tugging at Juubei's wrist until the older boy comes back to him, blinking a little as if waking up from a daze, and they cross the final few yards of open space to the dry, enclosed privacy of the low freestanding room.

With their footwear removed and lined up neatly on the step, the two boys make themselves comfortable on the tatami floor. Kadsuki takes up his accustomed seiza position by the koto placed there for him and Juubei sits close by, watching him sidelong as the smaller boy removes a small fan tucked into his obi and gives it a few desultory swipes through the close air before leaning over the instrument to fan at Juubei's sweat-dotted face and neck, smiling as his friend gasps appreciatively at the movement of the air across his face and through his hair. Then he hands the fan over to Juubei and reseats himself, raising both hands to hover gently above the koto, his smile softening as the strings give a low hum of recognition. The vibration ceases as he places his hands where they want to be, strings resting comfortably against the hardening calluses on the delicate pads of his fingers, and plucks a series of gentle notes from the instrument that seem to accompany the ebbing and flowing whisper of the weather around them.

"Koto sounds best in the rain, don't you think?"

"When you play it, it always sounds wonderful," Juubei replies and sprawls out on his stomach, close enough to the open doorway that he can reach out a languid arm and feel the raindrops striking his fingers and wrist. He stays there, head buried in his other arm in a way that only just fails to hide the blush spreading in his cheeks, and Kadsuki laughs softly and continues picking at the strings, running through a few simple patterns of tones that flow together and ripple like the eternal stream flowing down toward the sea.

The two remain that way for some time, Juubei's gaze moving back and forth between the rainswept clearing and Kadsuki's form as he sits by the instrument, the gentle notes filling up the space between them as Kadsuki plays and begins telling him a story he claims to have read in the library at home, a tale about the moon-maiden and the soldier with the strength of ten (and soon enough Juubei's blush is growing again, and he's beginning to be sure that Kadsuki is just making this up on the spot to tease him), and above them the sun moves across the sky and breaks free of the clouds, the rain lightens to a patter, and finally ends.

Kadsuki's fingers still and the last lingering notes fade, and he stands and goes to the folding screens, stroking the wooden lattice thoughtfully as he looks out at the world before them. "Shall we go back?" he asks softly.

"…Mm." Juubei stretches and eventually gets his feet underneath him, joining his friend at the sunlit entrance. "…And what happened at the end?" he asks. "Of the story, I mean."

Kadsuki's eyes tip up to his, and there seems to be surprise in that sharp dark glitter that Juubei doesn't already know the answer. "Why, she took him with her back to the moon, of course. They went in her flower-boat, and he kept his promise and protected her forever, just as he'd said."

"Oh." Knowing what he knows, Juubei doesn't have any weighty response to that, so instead he steps down and places his hand on Kadsuki's shoulder to balance his friend as he slips his geta back on. His fingers tighten a fraction before he releases his grip and the two start back along the path towards home. "I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

In Kadsuki's story he's playing a little with the kanji in his and Juubei's names – enough so that Juubei picks up on this and gets accordingly embarrassed ^_^