Exchange of Sake

By YFF

DISCLAIMER: Seiji and Nasuti and their playmates are all someone else's creation. I just took them out for a joyride.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rated Pg for—uh—I don't know. There is nothing much happening in this chapter, except for a lot of mind thinking and dialog. This chapter gives character to Seiji and explains his involvement with Nasuti, as well as setting up the next chapter which is a lime. As I stated before, whenever characters get romantic I like to give a little background into their surroundings. Enjoy

He came back with the cushion, his quilted cotton shirtsleeves of his kendo-gi rolled to his elbows, his original purpose for coming to this room a memory. He lowered himself expertly cross-legged to the cushion opposite hers. Nasuti slid between them a lacquered stand in indigo blue and atop of it was stacked with three flat nested cups. The porcelain was bright shiny peacock- purple with a patterned gold leaf rim. Intentional or not, it matched her outfit perfectly. All loans from the Mi-ai matchmaker: prized possessions, Nasuti suspected. Bless the old woman for her assistance (however, Nasuti would be caught dead if she ever saw another Mi-ai ever again.).

Seiji fingered the smallest of nested cups, his finger sliding smoothly over the porcelain like dish. "Why don't you let me onto what this is about?"

Nasuti blinked, afraid he would continue with his questions for an explanation. She was not sure how to answer and instead, removed the smallest cup that he had been fingering and offered it to him with both hands and head bowed.

Seiji breathed out a sigh of irritation, already tiring of this charade, but took the cup without argument and even in proper manner with both hands holding it by their fingertips. She lifted the sake kettle from its place it rested and poured a stream of wine; just as the Mi-ai showed her. Slow, graceful and not hurried. Allow the steam of the wine to frame your face and move through you nostrils and fill your lungs. Seiji stared at it, then at her. His brow furrowed.

"This is about en musubi," she said. "A connection between two people which is not easily loosened." She continued.

Seiji could only nod. "En musubi," he repeated and the crease on his forehead deepened as he lifted the cup to his lips, still holding it with that trademark delicacy of his.

"You must finish it in-"

"Three sips," he finished, not bothering to acknowledge the surprised expression Nasuti gave him. He took the first sip, the second, then blinked and lowered the cup. Yes-he knew what the game was and was not happy with it at all. "Nasuti, this is sansan-kudo, the exchange of nuptial cups."

She winced and wished he didn't sound so displeased. The kettle was placed back in its place and her hands returned to her lap, where they intertwined. "Seiji, I beg forgiveness, but I wanted you to take me seriously and I thought if I did something bold and yet traditional, you would listen with open ears." She held her hand up as he started to rise from his seat, obviously intending to come to her side. "No, stay where you are, please. This is hard enough already, don't make it harder." She wiggled to her side, legs still folded underneath. "Seiji, ever since you asked me to marry you I have wondered about things," she paused, "True, after five years of living together everyone else expected it and us included, but as soon as we settled into our roles- you changed." She accused in a hushed whisper. "Gone was your sweet nature and came your silent treatment. This is not what I agreed to. This is not something we should be doing if you're not committed." She raised her head and stared directly at him, eyes hazing over with the last of her control. He had no idea how hard it was for her to do this, no idea how difficult it was to come to terms. "I want us to be close. I want to wake up in the same bed. I want a family of my own. I want you to trust me and stop this wall you are forming around yourself- I won't stay if it continues-I won't support it."

Still, he did not pick up the cup, but did rise from his place and padded over to hers. She lifted her eyes, letting him see she meant every word. He was the first to break the contact as he kneeled next to her, eyes forward and legs crossed. "Say something." She pleaded. He shook his head. "You put me to shame."

"No," she clasped his wrist where tendons tensed under his weight. "That's not what I mean to do-"

His dry laugh interrupted her before she could finish, "No, Nasuti, you misunderstand." She scooted closer so that she could stare at him, confusion evident in every movement. His mouth curved in a half smile; and that did not put her any more at ease. "I've been foolish. All my life I've wanted to be respected, to fit in. I've been working so hard, more so than usual, that I didn't even think of the effects it would have on you. Been trying so hard not to be different, not to stand out-"

"Different isn't bad. I like different. Your friends do. Even your family likes different." He gave her a skeptical look and quickly washed it back to an unreadable expression. "Seiji, they do. Stop being so hard on yourself. Quite thinking about what others think and only worry about those who love you. We matter. Not them. Don't be so serious, so calculated. Not everything in life goes the way you planned and when it doesn't, all you can do is go with the flow."

He raked his hair back with his hands. "I haven't been fair. I wanted it both ways."

Nasuti smiled. "We all do," she whispered.

"Yes. But even though I worked hard and gained much in return—it means nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The fact that while I had in the past worked hard at the dojo, as of recently, I haven't been giving all my effort. I didn't complete everything I had set out to do. And I did it on purpose." He turned his head to the side, glancing around the room, to the tea garden and its perfect shaped foliage, and then back to her and her delicate features. "I guess I grew tired of it all. Everything that was expected of me, I just wanted it to stop: the attention, expectations, responsibility, all of it. I became fond of failing, leaving things half-finished and imperfect. And I apologies if I let this get between us. "

Nasuti was surprised to say the least. She always considered Seiji somewhat of a perfectionist, but at the same time it made sense. He was such a young man; the stress was bound to pile up. He had to worry about his heritage of the dojo and preparations for it, family responsibility as the only male son and wedding plans which his whole female family were submerging themselves in. She imagined he must have worried about her as well. Nasuti had to give a lot up. Not only was she giving herself to Seiji, but his family too. She left her grandfather's home and moved into his. Her normal solitude was gone and now was crowed with grandparents, in laws and sister in-laws. However, with all things considered, she was happy. She hated being by herself and had always admired families that were close and sons who took care of them. It was one of the many things that attracted her to Seiji, his dutifulness and maturity. All of which arose because of his family's well upbringing and loving togetherness. Nasuti might have lost hers long ago, but it seemed ever since she met the Samurai Troopers she gained many more members in return. And even a childhood sweetheart as her future husband. "No Seiji, you're not a failure. Some people gain nothing and loose everything. Perhaps everything has come so redundant and you were merely leavening things the way they were so that you had something to look forward to. I wouldn't worry about it. Whatever obstacles you may face, we face together. Like always. "

His hand moved forward then, and paused in midair before deciding to cover her thigh. "Thank you, Nasuti." Gesturing to the tea and to her he asked, "Do you even know what you're doing," Nasuti snorted loudly, only to cover it up quickly with her hand. She realized demure girls 'do not snort—let alone loudly' "No," she murmured and he nodded, still covering her thigh and gave an affectionate squeeze before sliding it away. She watched him take the cup up again with his hands and finish the last sip. He handed it back without speaking and poured the sake for her. His motions were almost as graceful as the Mi-ai's, who had the training of a professional. She loved his hands, their color and their shape, their self-conscious gentleness and even the callousness that adorned them from all his strict training. When the little cup was full, she closed her eyes and inhaled the rich, sweet fumes. This is my promise, she thought: To keep trying even when trying is hard. She drained the wine in three slow swallows. She handed him the middle cup and filled it.

"Thank you," he said for the second time, and he, too, closed his eyes as he drank. He passed the cup to her. His hand trembled when he poured. The three sips slid warm and sharp down her throat. This is my promise, she thought: To give way sometimes, even when I don't want to. She poured the third, largest cup, lingering over the task, hearing the bell-like tinkle as the hot rice wine struck the porcelain. The ritual stilled her deep inside as Seiji waited for the wine to cool, the steam wavering her view of his beautiful face. He drank. He then poured that last cup as she held it between her fingers. Her head was spinning. She was going to be drunk. She hoped she could finish the ritual the way she was supposed to.

She took the first swallow, and then stopped. "This is my promise," she whispered aloud. "To do my best and support those I care for." He nodded, the sake also taking a warmer affect on him. She allowed the two last mouthfuls to run down her throat. The smell was like newly mowed lawn, strong, and the taste heavy. He laughed when the sting of it made her cough, slapping her back and tugging her to her feet. She immediately fell over, her legs still crossed and completely asleep. Still chuckling in his smooth voice, he pulled her by both arms and helped her settle more comfortably on the plush cushion, chafing her calves in the process. The pain was returning and the circulation made her wince.

"My gods" he said. "How long were you sitting like that?"

"Half an hour."

He grinned slightly and tried not to sound so startled. "I hope you were kidding. You're lucky you can feel anything." He kneeled down with her so they both lay on the cushion, legs brushing each other slightly.

"You made it look so easy."

"Because I had years of experience before I got use to the pain" he pointed out, and grabbed both of her legs and draped them over his to rub the circulation back to life. As he continued with his massage, eventually his hand roved even higher. Unconsciously or not, Nasuti did not know nor did she care. He had great hands and gave great massages. It must have come from his family genes as his grandfather too, gave great massages. That's was at least what Seiji's grandmother said, and toasty warm hands as well. Nasuti definitely looked forward to their married life and growing old together and especially those warm hands. She laughed to herself like a school girl.

Seiji didn't address her giggles as he was concentrating on parting the folds of her kimono, which was polled around them. The top of her thigh was revealed; his fingertips brushed her skin while the silk gracefully slid away. He then slid his hand slowly down the length of her leg -- thigh, knee, shin, and ankle, down to the arch of her foot -- and back up again. Nasuti gasped as a surge of electricity surged through her body. Combined with his caresses and the sake she felt very light-headed. Funny enough, it made her feel content- -or very drunk.

Seiji smoothed his hand up her thigh again, over her hip, up along her spine to the base of her neck. Nasuti moaned softly, her lips pressing together and head leaning back. She had to dig her hands into the mats to keep from sprawling backward. His sense of balance wasn't exactly in tiptop shape.

When he touched her, her body became liquid. She liked that word--liquid. So many great things were in a liquid form: hot bath water, steaming sake, scented perfumes, the vast ocean and Seiji's ability to turn you into liquid. He shifted his body forward and leaned until his breath fluttered her bangs lightly. His hand moved behind her neck and moved her closer; lips hovering a few inches away from each other. "Better?" A slow smile curved her lips in answer and leaned forward to close the distance. As far as she was concerned, the passive-demure act was finished with.

To be continued in chapter 3

Author Notes: Thanks again to Max for being mybeta reader. And thank you for the reviews. Kind and sweet, just the way I like it. I especially enjoy the ones that complement my writing ability since I never think of my work as that great. Sort of self-conscious I guess. Anyway--point being, I appreciate it.

I have one more chapter to send after this one, but it will have to be posted under M for mature content. It's not quite a lemon, more of a lime. Whatever- -I suck at rating things. laughs

If I do any future stories, I would like to touch on a lot of Japanese culture. As you can see, this is why I wrote a story revolving around the ritual of sansan-kudo, the exchange of nuptial cups. Perhaps next time I will do a Love Hotel, Male Host, or sight seeing around Japan (such as Sendai), or even interactions with true Japanese mythology. All future stories will most likely be short, like the one I wrote. In that way I finish it. Again—most of my previous stories were canceled since I started them so long ago. Blood Moon Rising had a lot of expectations, but is in need of a major rewrite (though it wasn't completely bad as I had started it around 14 years old.) Baby Its Cold Outside might be continued, but at the moment I have no idea where to take it.

Thanks again and stay tuned for the next segment…

Glossary:

Iaido- is the art of reacting to a surprise attack by counter attacking with a sword.

An in-depth reading of the Japanese characters for iaido is:
I being, AI harmony, DO way "The way of harmonizing oneself in action・

The Iaidoka (a practitioner of iaido) wields a sword: not to control the opponent, but to control himself. Iaido is mostly performed solo as a series of Waza. The Iaidoka executes various techniques against single or multiple imaginary opponents. Each Waza begins and ends with the sword sheathed. In addition to sword technique, practitioners require imagination and concentration in order to maintain the feeling of a real fight and to keep the Kata fresh. In order to properly perform the waza, Iaidoka also learn posture and movement, grip, and swing. Iaido is never practiced in a free-sparring manner.

Tabi- also called tabi boots or tabi socks are Japanese socks that have a split in the sock.

Hakama- are a type of traditional Japanese clothing. Hakama cover the lower body and resemble a wide, pleated skirt.

Mi-ai- Japanese matchmaker—

Until the turn of the century, the "Mi-Ai" interview of a man and woman was more of formality than an opportunity to know each other with a view to marriage. When practiced, it is arranged by a go-between today to provide the prospective bridegroom and bride with an initial opportunity for knowing each other personally.

A theater, hotel or restaurant may well be used for "Mi-Ai" where the proposed couple and their families make their acquaintance. The "Mi-Ai" interview is no longer considered to force any compulsory consequence upon either of the parties concerned. It is a practice for parents, go-betweens and friends with a particular view to unite, if desired, a young man and woman, thought out to be ideal partners in marriage. Even when successfully conducted, the man and woman concerned are usually given months to get to know each other and possibly to learn to love each other.

When "Mi-Ai" was a mere formality, a bridegroom-to-be might be invited to the home of a bride-to-be and if he was favorably impressed, he would leave behind a fan to indicate his acceptance. The bride-to-be had little chance of expressing her views on the subject.

Kendo-gi- Thick top shirt

San-San-Kudo- Unique in wedding ceremony under Shinto is the practice called san-san-kudo san-san-koo-doh (three-three and nine times) or three-time exchange of nuptial cups. Three flat cups, almost like dishes with small, medium and large size, in which sake is powered and the gloom first sips it three times. Then, the bride follows him. The moment the ritual is finished, the couple officially become wedded under Shinto