Ah, here it is! Thanks for your patience. The writing itself took a week, not including the various tv diversions (BrBa and Game of Thrones, just to name a few). Long story short, writing this chapter was akin to child labor. LONG. Arduous. Painful, but duly rewarding ;)
I took the time to reply to comments. Please see below, beyond the anticipated content. Cheers!
The past has a place in the present. Read with caution. Read with joy =D
Ch 14: Judgement
Mitsunari dismounts his steed, the frosty gale a memory now replaced by arid breeze. Fastening the reigns on to the rafters, his equine of pure ebony whines in the glaring sun before stomping left into the shade of willow. He makes his way into the village, resurrected after a long winter of silence, now alive with commerce and social banter.
Eyes dart left, right.
Where in the seven hells was she?
The scowl displayed on his face is more than enough to send the frolicking brats, nursing mothers and antalgic elderlies scampering. Mitsunari crosses into the market square and despite the sea of people, he is given wide berth.
Another quick survey before parting for the textile store that was now bustling with squeals of adolescent females. His scowl grew.
Ever since she recovered from the attempt on his life, she had been out and about, tending to matters that were none of her concern. Tending the garden, mansion maintenance, small talk with Ieyasu and men of his army. His irritation spikes at the latter two. Had she so much time to spend cavorting, she should be minding her actual duties as healer. Not that Ieyasu whom recruited her had anything to say about it.
His approach to the family-owned business quelled all jovialities to hushed whispers; the clientele receding into depths of the store.
Hn.
Not that he cared what she did in her leisure, but he was merely here to seek her out as per the woman who raised him from his youth. This was the only other place he had thought to find her.
The owner of said textile shop, donning a pastel yellow kimono came to greet him. A woman around Tschiyo's age, her voice is just as bright and lively as the sun beaming outside.
"Mitsunari-sama, what an honor it is have to have you here- welcome!" She gives him the customary smile and bow.
He sneers inwardly, intent on telling her to cut the pleasantries and divulge the peasant's whereabouts, but…
"They fear you. Perhaps you can be more…approachable?"
He nods curtly, evading the shopkeeper's eyes. His throat suddenly dry, and after a strained stretch of silence…
"…Ran," he finally says, eyes still on the cherry blossom-strewn ground, "..where is she?"
"A personal matter, I see, Mitsunari-sama," she replies with a nod.
Personal? Hardly!
Mitsunari wanted bite back a nasty remark but he was not so foolish to lose the only probable lead on finding the stubborn peasant.
"Ah." His curt reply, for the lack of a better thing to say. Surely, he was not being "unapproachable".
"Ran-dono…" the woman drawls with the same smile, feigning consideration.
He exhales nasally. Patience he did not have, but he was not one to play the fool.
"…If I recall, she should be by the river, but for what I cannot be certain. She left this morning after visiting my shop."
He nods again. "You have my gratitude," he mutters, before spinning on his heels to head for the edge of town.
Ran rolls up her sleeves, tying the sash around her shoulders before fastening her spring kimono. All prepared, she shuffles into a kneeling position by shallow banks where borders of water and earth blur.
The last time she had been here was in the winter, and that had been a terrible memory. A chill travels up her spine. The startling discovery of a corpse, the cold, the overnight stay at a derelict temple, the-
Her cheeks glow but she shakes it off. It isn't the right time to be day-dreaming. She surveys the pile of flower bulbs, dormant throughout winter that she surmised will grow come spring. A smile graces her features. It had been a blessing that Mitsunari was able to get her the antidote in time so that she would be here today. They will bloom in a few weeks time and surely-
"What are you doing here?" His voice booms, snapping her out of her reverie.
She whirls around to meet a rather unhappy Ishida General, crunching through the rocky banks on his way to her. But when HAD he ever been happy?
"Mitsunari-dono," she stands, brushing herself before the customary bow, "I am gathering iris bulbs."
A cursory glance at an empty bank and lazy river. "What?"
She turns around and fetches a round object, mired in moist earth. "It's not a flower yet, Mitsunari-dono," she explains, the rotund object reminding him of cannon balls, albeit smaller, "but they will grow into Irises within a few weeks. The garden did not have anymore of them so I came here hoping to bring back a few to plant."
His deadpan expression drowns her smile. The ambience of water extends the awkward silence in the woods.
Her shoulders fall while whispering an apology. "I know it's far. These are dangerous times and-"
"Hn," his gaze fixated in her direction, the steel in his eyes sharp enough to cut her down. The glare unwavering as his arm with weapon rises. "You should not have left."
She frowns at the injustice. "Please, I would not have been allowed-"
"Silence," he mutters, reaching for her wrist.
"Matte! Mitsunari-dono!" Her protest rings hollow as the motion sends her reeling behind him. It isn't until she whirls around to meet his eyes that she discovers reason for his cold glare.
A man in rags with a weapon on his hip stands by the opposite edge of the shallow river. Perhaps a wanderer? She didn't know but if it had not been for Mitsunari's timely intervention, she would have fallen into his field of range during a lunge.
"Mitsunari Ishida," he spats, one hand scratching his unkempt beard. He takes deliberate steps into the banks towards them. "General of the Western Army. Dai Ichi, Dai Man, Dai Kachi. I can never forget..."
"Ah," the Minister of Misfortune calls back, meeting the older man's wicked gaze. He raises his o-dachi at the stranger. "State your business."
"Unfinished business," the man corrects with a smirk, "not only with me, but with them."
As if on cue, a squad of men stalked out from the dark vegetation bordering the river. From their unkempt hair, grimy complexion and tattered attire of red and white crescents, Ran surmised them to be ronin. Masterless samurai left to wander the realms from which their Lord no longer walks. Unemployed. Unneeded. Not so different from the ardent man before her.
Crescents.
Ran had heard of them, but her mind flounders for answers she would have if she is as learned of the Sengoku Jidai as medicine.
"Rats from the Chogoku rebellion," the General remarked, eyes darting for a head count. A tough but successful raid less than a year ago east of the peasant's village. It had taken his calvary but half a day's time to raze their stronghold, but more than two days to break into it. He thought they had all been exterminated, but of course, rodents were so inclined to flee.
"You dare insult the Chogoku faction!" The indignant reply from the man who led this pitiful brood.
"The faction's refusal to submit was an affront to the Toyotomi," Mitsunari boomed, o-dachi pointed at them.
"You will bleed for our brothers in arms!" Rage erupted. Death cried out.
"Death to the Western Army!" A chorus chanted.
Ran paled. This could not be happening. She had traveled her for a benign matter and now…
"How fearless to show your faces before me," the Ishida general smirks, "expect no mercy for your transgression."
She swallowed the lump in her throat that held her silence, her hands reaching for the General's arm.
"This river shall run red come end of this battle," the ronin confirmed, his entourage drawing silvers of steel out of sheaths.
Her hands his sword arm.
"Head for the village," he said without meeting her eyes, but feeling the shake of her head.
"I will not leave you. Please don't do this," her soft voice pleads, "we can-"
"This is an order!" He barks, throwing her a peripheral glare. Had she gone mad or was she a complete fool? "These men are not here for your peace talks!"
Samurai divested of their honor, liege and families. Eyes so hungry the entirety of the world could not hope to satiate. Soldiers whose blood no longer ran with the code of bushido but rather with vengeance and fury. Men who live on the brink of existence, having lost all reason and principle to fight, but continue to do so for the sake of plunder and chaos. Mitsunari knew them well. He knew such rodents too well, and the sooner they were annihilated the better the outcome of war.
She reels backwards from the impact, freeing him. A splash resounding behind her. The sound of her shuddering breaths, and despite the deep gnawing in his chest he remains firm.
"These men," he clears his throat, "are not to be swayed by words." Mitsunari returns his focus and stalks ahead. "Go now."
She whispers a few words before the echo of her footsteps reach his ears.
The rugged ronin takes a step forward. "That woman," he rubs his chin, "who is she?"
Mitsunari's eyes narrow. "None of a rat's concern," he snips bitterly.
The older man gestures, and the initial number Mitsunari surveyed drops. A scowl on the Ishida general's sharp features matched only by the need of swift victory.
"They call me Minister of Misfortune," he sprawls, poised for full assault, "come should you care to learn why."
She ran, oh, how she ran! And when footsteps of others reach her ears, she runs even faster. But the moist ground and dead bottom foliage clinging to the hem of her kimono and sleeves did little to aid her efforts. At first it's a group of them but then they divide into two- one tailing her, and another at the flank to cut her off the main road.
"Take her alive" she hears the group pursuing her call out to company.
No.
No.
No!
If they intercept at the main road she'd never make it back to the village. Ran is no military strategist but she was sure there was no outrunning a group of men on an open road. She could not allow herself to be captured. Who else will go send for men to Mitsunari's aid?
Her heart pounds inside her chest and propelling one leg in front of the other, she abruptly turns heel. Small moments in flight seem like eternity. Her lungs burn and her feet feel like fire. She didn't dare look back, even when the voices grow distant.
The muddy ground soon grows dry, grey and firm. Foliage grows sparse, crushed by boulders and crevices of nature's design. She stops at the mouth of a gaping cavern. Eyes wide with confusion of the new and unknown.
"Isoge!"
She gasps. The rush of adrenaline sends her bolting and decides it's better to be swallowed by darkness than to be caught.
Easier said than done. The dim backlight barely provides enough visual and has her staggering. Her outstretched arms do manage to find a cool, round surface on the ground. It's size smaller than a table but taller.
The voices travel by the entrance and her greatest fears are confirmed with the crunching of gravel. Immediately she ducks behind the boulder.
"She avoided the main road," one of them spat, a voice deep and rumbling.
Her heart hammering against her ribcage.
"Ha, but she is a fool if she ran in here," one of them cackled, a high scratchy tone.
The tremors on her hands grow with the crunching of gravel. Ran folds her knees to her chest, making herself as small as possible. The rush of adrenaline that bought her here, exhausted, and the omamori usually in the folds of her kimono, gone.
"I know she is here," the baritone voice affirmed.
She could feel them and their fetid breaths as they stalked by, but she dare not look. Even if she could open her eyes, they would blur with fear. Her breathing so labored she clasps hands over her mouth. The horror of that one thought consumes her entire mind and arrests her breathing as the pursuers stumble by, equally vulnerable to the dark abyss.
Please don't…
Please don't…
Please don't…
"Ha! Any deeper and she will run herself into a dead end."
Ran looks up. The group of them far into the cavernous darkness. She did not know how far nor did she care.
"Mitsunari-dono…" she mouths soundlessly. She had to go now.
For help…
For him.
A deep breath and she stands, darting for the exit as fast as her burning feet can take her. Ran did not care for the angry voices, warnings and threats. She had somewhere she needed to be now and that-
BOOM!
The scream ripped itself out her throat. She stopped short of the great thunder, resonating against stone walls. Stalactites crumble, spearing the ground and although missing Ran by paces, they send her tumbling on to her feet. Her form instinctively scrunched up as small as possible.
By the time she gets up from the debris, an iron grip seizes her wrist. A sharp, lightning shooting straight up her arm.
"You were here all along," he chuckles to his armed comrade whose weapon snaked a trail of smoke.
"L- let go," her words a hollow ring as she struggles against the rogue samurai's vice grip, her world swirling from the impact and pain.
A sudden tug sends her reeling against him, pinned. "Such a pretty flower General Mitsunari has," her assailant smirks, reaching for her chin.
Ran turns away, the odor nauseating and fear overwhelming her consciousness. She could feel the approach of his warm, fetid breath, expecting his filthy touch-
A choked scream.
Her eyes snap open, just in time to see her attacker hurtling and tumbling onto the distant gravel, failing to understand the implications of it all as she met the ground.
He laid on his side, coughing secretions while his subordinates rush over.
"None shall escape," the voice she knew so well boomed against the vast darkness. She turns to her side, the crunching of his black waraji against gravel. The unmatched darkness in his eyes that held a dangerous promise.
"Do not idle!" The fallen man barks, shoving aside his men's attempts to help him up. He casts a panicked glance at the slender man on his side holding a weapon Ran had never seen. "Do it now!"
As if struck my lightning, his subordinate holds the elongated instrument up to eye level with trembling hands and Ran pales. Her breathing grounds to a halt.
So that had been it. The feared arquebus that sent many good soldiers to their untimely deaths. Machines that penetrated the greatest, strongest armor with pieces of steel. Tools that can slay an army within half a day with half the manpower. Weapons from the far West ends of the world where war-waging was nothing but business.
She opened her mouth, but before his name could escape her lips, he had disappeared.
Before the thunderous ring could resound again, darkness swallows them.
Before ronins from a futile rebellion could fall, blood had left their hearts.
And before the man who had attacked her could die, two words he left this world.
"…ungodly speed…"
Not that she heard them. But she couldn't stop staring into the cavern's depths. The totality of darkness, the imminent ease of death, and the smell of metal from things other than weaponry that threaten to swallow her whole had she been allowed to stay longer.
So enthralled by fresh blood she had not even noticed his approach.
"M-M-Mitsunari!" Instinctly, she clamps her arms around him. Her protest rings dry as she is swept off the ground. "I-I can walk! Daijoubu desu!"
An abrupt halt as she is released at cavern's mouth.
"You were to be at the village," his voice tempered and gaze steadied onto the horizon.
"I could not outrun them, Mitsunari-dono. They would have caught me had I continued for the main road," she explains, hanging her head.
"So you deemed it wise to flee for a cavern with no means of escape?" Mitsunari spat, throwing her a gaze that had lost some of its venom when it met her eyes.
Eyes too soft to make the decisions he made, too complacent to assume the things he knew about men and their propensity for atrocities during war. The idea of arriving a moment later than he did, made his blood boil.
"It was not wise, but my options were limited," she admits with a flush, now conscious of her present state under his glare. Her hands brush immediately against kimono sleeves. "Pardon my appearance," she apologizes, despite her burning feet, reaches for her coiffed hair.
Her eyes the size of saucers. The splash she heard before making a run for the main road.
No.
No!
Her feet take flight of their own.
"Where do you think you are going?" the Ishida General demands, stalking after her fleeing form.
He follows her back to the bank where a grisly sight awaits.
"Halt," Mitsunari seizes her by the sleeve but it's too late for her eyes.
Twenty. No, more than twenty bodies laid scattered along the once idyllic scenery with gentle streams of crimson trailing from them. They lead to the main channel- running rivers red. The carnage stops her short by the slated shores. She was not supposed to see this, but when she tugs her sleeve away to continue towards bleeding waters, he cannot deny the disbelief that he lets her go.
She is searching for something, with her focused eyes and bent form, but Mitsunari's patience wears thin. The enemy was put down, but are more to follow? Are shinobi involved as in the last encounter? This brood carried arquebus weapons not at their disposal when he had fought them prior. Someone had supplied it. Someone far more dangerous than a pack of bloodlust ronin. He had an inkling who, but the time for speculation was not now. His eyes dart from each corner, weapon at the ready.
He is close to issuing another decree when she fishes something from the tainted waters.
"It's here!" She trudges back to shore before him, object raised in triumph. The long, thin, piece of ornate metal gossamer against rays of receding sun as she caresses it clean with sleeves of her kimono.
"What?" He deadpans.
She grins as if all was right with the world. "It must have fallen when I fled for the main road," admiring the hair piece adorned with precious gems, "as a gift from Mitsunari-dono, I am relieved it is not damaged."
Damaged?
He sneers at the inconceivable irony. Had he slaughtered a hoard of bloodthirsty men to rush to her for the sake of a trifle piece of metal? Was her life not in peril but mere moments ago? Ridiculous, foolish peasant.
He turns away with disgust, his sword arm squeezing the life out of his weapon.
She knew nothing of "damage" he inwardly scoffs.
Damage is the irreparable harm that would have befallen her had those insatiable curs- Tch. He could kill them a thousand times over.
"Mitsunari-dono?" That airy, voice of sunlight with wide inquiring eyes. He casts her the trademark cold look.
"Thank you…" A small smile with those soft eyes he had always known not prepared for this tumultuous era. "…for saving my life. Again."
It isn't until Mitsunari sees those soft eyes he had always known were ill prepared for these times that it occurs to him. Damage, pain, violence- all things great and terrible that could ruin the gentle gaze that held his this moment. He could not imagine her otherwise. Could it not be better this way?
No... Lord Hideyoshi would think it lunacy! Tch. Blasphemy. A complacent existence like hers could never hope to survive. His late Lord would never condone it. He was sure of it, but even so…
The grip on his o-dachi grows slack and his gaze falls to the ground, oblivious to her blush.
Peripherally, he tells her to never journey out by herself to which she nods before brusquely walking ahead.
"Where do you think you're going?" Refusing to look at her.
"Back to the village," she stumbles ahead despite the burning in her feet and his glare, "it will be dark soon."
He reaches out for her forearm. "How?"
"The same way I arrived here," she replies as evenly as she could manage without meeting his eyes.
This ignorant peasant was not listening.
With a sudden jerk, he yanks her before him. "Do you intend to walk?" He demands with his piercing gaze. "You are a woman in the forest with NO horse, NO direction, NO shoes. Pray tell how do you intend to return?"
O - the shape of her mouth and the depth of her humiliation when she finally realizes the reason for her pedal suffering. She stares down at her muddied tabi, tainted crimson from tears revealing her injuries. They must have fallen off during the chase, but amidst the panic and adrenaline she could not recall. It had been a whirlwind of activity she hopes never to relive.
"I- I", attempting to regain what composure she could salvage, "I have no other means. I do not know the way, but if Mitsunari-dono leads, I shall walk. I shall not impede our return." Hands wring edges of her kimono.
Mitsunari steals a glance at the lacerations from crags, boulder rifts and uneven vegetation. Her injuries, though not grave, can ruin even a soldier.
Wordlessly, the General stalks ahead with his back facing her, and kneels.
"Come," he beckons, one knee bent and the other on the ground.
Her face grows white.
"Mitsunari-dono, please, you must not! This is highly unnecessary," her protest rings dry, "I can walk. You have my word, I can."
"NOW," he stares at her peripherally, not budging an inch, "this is not a request."
A moment of silence before her defeated sigh.
To describe it as awkward is an understatement, as Ran fells against the back of his armor. The cold, hard plate of metal that shields the Ishida General is cool and comfortable against the stagnant humidity. Her trembling arms, reluctantly interlocking before he rises off the ground.
"M-matte!" She cries, clamping her hands together as he stands.
"What?" He secures his hold of her, and the friction sends her face aflame and her legs take a life of their own.
"I'm scared," she breathes, shocked by the strength off his slender frame while her heart hammers at the injustice of a convenient lie, "…of…of the fall."
He quirks an eyebrow at her the way one would at a dolt, before tightening his grip under her knees. "You will do well to avoid it."
Without another word, he takes off, silencing her protests. On the journey back Ran does not recall transitioning to Mitsunari's steed because all she hears is the drumming in her ears. All she feels is the scarlet heat snaking up her neck, and her mind, usually lucid and adamantly refusing reveries, becomes but a daydreaming blur from the olfactory intoxication of steel, musk and leather.
Today,
She encounters the general…
She is rescued by the warrior…
But they matter not, because alas today,
She falls for the man.
I still can't believe this is still going on. It started off with a musing and now- Chapter 14 complete! Thank you for reading. Enjoy the replies!
cloud-09: I see you registered as a user- yes! Thank you for drawing the icons! They are adorable and I agree with your ying-yang theory.
coffeetea07: Thank you for appreciating how things weave together. I can't paint but if I could I hope my writing becomes a portrait. The chapters will continue to connect and refer to one another- stand-by!
Shiori kudo: I am aware, but I was secretly hoping Aiko be unisex because boys deserve some L-O-V-E too :)
Kitsune Fire: The iris is one of my favorite flowers- but that's how the idea started. Thank you for thinking of my piece and thank you for sharing! I would be angry at Iroha too, but someone has to be the "bad guy" for the "good" to shine.
AriaTheScarletRose: update is here! I will try but I can't guarantee because I am constantly on the go and I constantly forget .'' Enjoy the story nonetheless!
Crowdofstars: thank you. and here I initially thought her so boring/drabby!
Konoha'sYellowFlash: Yes it has been 1 year! Still can't believe it, thank you for your constant feedback! There's a lot of "punishment" to be dished out later on- be prepared.
Cirmsonlotus: It's alright. Quite a few readers thought me dead when I did not update on time. It will be fantastic if Sengoku Basara 4 came out! more of everyone's favorite grumpy samurai!
Lux Caelum: I reread my chapters when I run into writer's block. It's the story that brings me back to the keyboard because it is as you say- a story that one desires to read very badly. Thanks and I hope you continue to read on!
XionNight: As I said prior, I do reread it too! glad you enjoy it. Glad I can share with the world.
No One important: aw, why the long face? I'm back so here's an even longer one :)))))))))))
readers: you can? How did you know my ramen in microwave is ready? I jest. Great things will come in time, I promise.
Suzu84: Your grin is MY grin too. I'm all smiles when I edit and re-edit each chapter. This is the magic of a story one really wants to read. At the end of the day, it is worth all the hours of labor and thunderous brainstorming. Let me know how it goes.