Sleepwalker, chapter 5: snowflake and ghost, part 2
(Usual disclaimer again. Thanks again to my dear friends and to everyone who's written me a review. Reviews r good. )
Edited July 2009 to purge it of fangirl Japanese. OK, except for the dates.
It would take, Jin had told Yuki, several weeks to arrange the examination. Three masters of at least nanadan rank were required, one to administer the test and two to observe and score, and Jin's own shishou could not be one of them. The dojo was filled with the excitement of hosting such an event. Couriers with letters to and fro were a common sight in the Mujuu's yard for days, and students scurried to bring them water, to hear from whom they had come, and what their message was. Yuki's curiosity threatened to eat him alive; he bribed his way into yard and kitchen duty to be the first to see a messenger arriving, and thus was the first to know that Niwa Juunosuke would be their guest for three days.
"But he was Takeda-san's teacher for a year, doesn't that count?"
"Seems not, since Gojuu Hall doesn't stand to gain anything by Jin--um, Takeda-san's raising his rank. That's what the difference is, not who trained him." Yuki glowed with inner happiness; the way Jin's face had lit up when Yuki relayed this news had made three days of sweeping walks and scrubbing carrots a mere trifle. He hoped he'd get a chance to meet Niwa-dono himself; his was the only name that always made Jin smile, and Yuki had come to realize how rare that was.
He was determined to see the examination somehow, to prove to Jin that his worries were groundless. It was sneaking around the wording of his promise, of course. I promised not to ask him to let me in, not that I wouldn't try to get in some other way. But he was sure Jin would forgive him if he stepped up and looked him in the eye afterward…
Once the three examiners were confirmed--a heijo muteki-ryu master, a yagyu-ryu master from Edo, and the shinkage-ryu master, Niwa-san--the time passed in a spin of activity, as the dojo was cleaned and polished from end to end to receive its distinguished guests. The Master's face lost the weary harried look it had borne for so long, gazing with undisguised pride on the Mujuushin Kenjutsu at its handsomest, from trimmed hedges to waxed floors. Jin insisted on being part of the effort until three days beforehand, then disappeared, and even Yuki did not see him until the evening before the test.
When, to his surprise and delight, he appeared at his side as Yuki walked back from the evening meal. "Yukimaru-kun?"
"Jin-san! I thought you were still meditating under the waterfall, or something."
"I've finished that part." He actually smiled. It felt absurdly good to see him, and see him so happy. "Do you have a moment to see something?"
Well, of course he did. And he stood by the futon as Jin carefully cleared everything off the top of his carved wooden chest and opened the lid. "I've never worn it--" he lifted a few things and drew out a parcel--"but I think this is a formal enough occasion…what do you think? Is it too much?"
Yuki caught his breath as Jin unfolded the bundle and held it up. It was one of the most beautiful kimonos he'd ever seen, a deep, subtle blue-green silk, embroidered with golden dragons breathing clouds of glowing fire. "Jin-san, that's wonderful. Of course you should wear it. If only so I can see you in it."
"Yukimaru-kun, I'm serious." Gently reproving. "Do you really think it's appropriate?"
"Yes, I think it's appropriate. The Master's had his formal kimono cleaned and pressed, and you know he doesn't wear that all the time. So you can dress up too, I think." He admired the handsome fabric, stroked it with light fingertips. "…I really do want to see you in this."
"..I could put it on now..."
Yuki looked into his face, hoping he'd heard what he thought he did. Endearingly, suddenly shy, but he met Yuki's eyes in response…
"--I'll help you tie it."
This time Jin slid the door shut.
Yuki did his very, level best to be circumspect and useful. After all, it wasn't that intimate. They didn't need to strip him to the skin, only to his white second-layer juban. Besides, there were a few other students in the quarters, reading or asleep or pretending not to watch, and he didn't want to embarrass either of them. But being this close to Jin, being outright invited to touch him, made him tremble so hard he was clumsy with the knots; the older boy had to notice. He stood straight and still, politely not mentioning that Yuki had tied his under-sash four times now.
"--there." The belt was neat at last and held the waistline up in a graceful drape. "Where's your heko-obi?"
Jin handed him the wide silk sash. Yuki, behind him, had to reach forward to put the thing around his waist…
It was just too much; he knew if he did it he wouldn't let go. He stood immobile, the sash hanging from his fingers.
"Yukimaru-kun?"
"Maybe you should do this part yourself--"
"Go ahead."
He got as far as reaching up on both sides of Jin's waist again, and couldn't move, didn't dare--
Jin turned in his arms and drew them together. "…shh. You're shaking."
"I can't help it. I can't even think when I look at you." Yuki held him, could hardly believe he was holding him, leaned his cheek against the cedar-scented silk. "You are so beautiful, Jin-san."
"I'm not. I look like a wolf. My bones are too sharp and my eyes look angry whether I am or not. I'm too harsh to be beautiful." He stroked Yuki's shoulders, as carefully as if he'd break. "It's you that's beautiful, little snowflake."
Suddenly absurdly happy. "Oh, I like that."
"No one else calls you that? I thought it was obvious."
"Just 'Yuki-chan'. Yours is much nicer." It no longer even seemed unusual that they were standing here in each other's arms; it felt comfortable and right; he wasn't shaking anymore. He didn't care if the others were watching, or what they thought if they were. He drew a long deep breath, absorbing the fragrance and the gentle strength surrounding him; it was like finding something you didn't even know you'd missed.
"Snowflake, then." Jin leaned his head against Yuki's for a moment, let him go, smiled that little smile. "Can you put my heko-obi on now?"
Somehow he hadn't dropped the ornamental sash. "Of course." And this time savored wrapping it around him, smoothing it over the plain belt and managing the big knot in back. Stepped back with pride in his handiwork. "There! Elegant enough for the shogun's hall." One last tug. "Now tell me you aren't handsome."
Jin drew his knife and critically surveyed the reflection in the blade. Yuki smiled to himself. The formal robe had the odd effect of making him look younger, so serious, like a boy being very dignified in his father's clothes. And the deep jade color made his grey eyes look as green as a summer forest. No matter what he thought, he was lovely. I'll bet he's never been kissed…he's been practically a monk since he was six…
Next time. This is too soon. But next time I'm going to kiss him.
(Carefully hanging the green kimono before blowing out the candle, Jin was still smiling to himself. Truly, how he'd have gotten through these weeks of preparation without the boy's company, he had no idea. He had understood the importance of concentration and practice, yet he'd always managed to distract Jin just when his worries were growing too intense. There was no one else here like him; he was as serious about the sword as anyone, yet he could be so young, as impulsive and affectionate as a child. He did remind Jin of Katsu and Tazu, and that also made him smile: if they wouldn't have caused the approximate havoc of a typhoon, he'd have genuinely hoped they'd accompany their father. I pity whoever Niwa-dono had to leave them with to come here; I'm sure they used every possible argument to be brought along.
His little brothers…and that too brought his thoughts back to Yuki. He didn't have an onii-san, in fact had pointedly rebuffed the only one who'd tried to court him. (With good reason too.) And he was everything Jin could have asked of a younger brother: the son of an old and noble family, a fellow-student and a genuine friend, as well as…
..deep, thoughtful sigh. It had felt so good to hold him. Jin had never liked to be touched, before Gojuu Hall; it had felt vaguely irritating and aggressive, like a too-loud voice. But the moment that had just passed… he let himself imagine many more moments like that, and the thought felt as good as Yuki's soft hair against his cheek. I could ask him; I don't think he'd refuse..
He shook his head ruefully. Here it was, the night before the most important duel of his career so far, and he was thinking about a boy. (But they do say even the Shogun does that.)
After this is all over, and things are a little calmer, I'll ask him, he promised himself, smoothing the sash neatly; and blew out the candle.)
The day for the exam dawned cold and clear. There had been some worry of a snowstorm making the roads slow and difficult; but it had left only a dusting of snow, icing the Mujuu in sparkling white, and the guests all arrived by midmorning. Taira Shigehide, the yagyu-ryu master, walked punctually up the path within the hour his letter had estimated, a big, burly man with a gruff warrior's manner, only one attendant bearing his luggage. Torii Daisuke, the heijo muteki-ryu master, was in contrast tall and elegant, his long hair braided with red silk, and accompanied by two aides nearly as handsome. (Yuki nearly smothered himself to keep from laughing out loud at Tadayo's romantic sighing.) And finally, traveling alone, the third of their guests: a lean, bearded man, who gazed around the Mujuu as affectionately as if it were his childhood home. Niwa Juunosuke, the shinkage-ryu master, the one Yuki most wanted to watch.
Severe and formal in his indigo clan kimono, Mariya-dono waited to welcome the masters at the door, Jin standing staff-straight at his side. (Yuki stifled a yawn; he'd had to sneak out practically at dawn to help Jin into the dragon kimono and matching gold hair band, but the sight of him was well worth the lost sleep. Even the Master looked impressed.)
A meal had been prepared to honor their guests: then the masters would retire to their rooms to rest and prepare, and the test would be given that afternoon. The day's classes were cancelled, and speculation became the order of the day in the student quarters.
Tadayo broke out his stash of sweet rice crackers, a present from home; they lit the big hour-candles for more warmth, sat clustered on their futons and analyzed what they knew or guessed of the match to come. Jin probably wouldn't fight Niwa-dono, everyone agreed, since they'd trained together, so it would be either Torii-dono or the yagyu master. And since yagyu-ryu was to the Mujuu as hammer to needle…
"Torii-dono, then." Tadayo crunched a snack and sighed. "The heijo muteki-ryu is supposed to be almost pure Zen. I would give a year's allowance to see that match…are we sure it's closed?"
"Closed for sure," confirmed Hiroshi. "Yuki-chan says even he wasn't invited." Meaningful sidelong grin; Yuki had not told them anything exactly, but they weren't blind. "--Seriously. Examinations are private, no one knows the results till the masters give their decision." He looked pointedly at Yuki. "It'd be very bad to get caught spying in there."
Yuki gazed back innocently. He had no intention of getting caught.
Mid-afternoon. The smaller training room had been cleaned and polished from end to end, its floor gleaming, its banner and shrine brushed and straightened, the window-paper re-oiled for maximum light and extra candles in stands--darkness came on early these winter days. Table, fresh tatami mats for seating, paper and ink and brushes all stood ready for the judges. Even the little curtained closet under the shrine shelf had been swept out and its floor buffed, the smell of fresh lemon oil nearly stifling in the small enclosed space. But the fumes were worth it for the best seat in the house. Yuki carefully parted the curtains a bare half-inch; he wouldn't dare move them again once it began.
The door opened and they walked in single file: first Mariya-dono, then Masters Niwa, Torii, and Taira, and finally Jin, all now in plain working dress. Yuki grinned to see that they'd guessed right; only the shinkage and yagyu masters sat at the table with Mariya, while Jin and Torii-san faced each other. Their nanadan master Jisho entered last, carrying a weapons-rack, which he left at the side of the open space with a deep bow. One bokken, two blades.
"The candidate must demonstrate complete knowledge of the first and second level kata, and clarity of style, plus prudence and forbearance, self-control, and perfect fairness to his opponent. Bear in mind that we are assessing his potential to teach, illustrate, and mentor, not merely his skill at the duel. " Mariya folded the sheet, looked around the room, received a nod from each of the four. "--Begin."
The tall muteki-ryu master and Jin bowed to each other, and Jin stepped forward. He slid one foot ahead, raised the bokken, and swept through the first set of kata in a single, fluid movement, just slowly enough to show that each was fully executed. His face was as calm as an ivory Buddha's, his balance was grounded and centered, he was as purely in his element as a fish breathing water. The room was utterly silent, the observers never blinked. Jin proceeded through the second set of kata: just a fraction slower, as suited the more complex moves, but still in a single flow of motion as precise as a temple dancer's. Completed, he bowed again, and stepped back.
As two brushes made tiny swishes of sound on paper, Yuki realized he'd completely forgotten to breathe. Afraid? He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
Bokken traded for blades, and Torii-dono advanced. It was instantly clear he was an ideal opponent for a Mujuu-trained fighter, moving with controlled, feline grace. Yuki regretted Tadayo couldn't watch the muteki-ryu master at work; his long braid lashed like a tiger's tail as he slashed through the opening movement of a classic single-combat sequence, and then they engaged--
And Yukimaru finally began to see what it was all about, the talk, and the whispers, and the stories. He could not move or breathe, transfixed. Torii-dono was a master, and from a school nearly as subtle and refined as the Mujuu; but Jin was as fast, as deft, the two blades flashing like one stream of light. He advanced on Jin, pressed him only a moment, and then was forced back, a pace, two, by the intricate rush of the younger man's attack, the blade swirling like a blizzard. He recovered, came on again, and this time was held in place. Torii-dono's eyes steeled, and he shifted his grip, moved forward steadily, his light blade now nearly invisible in its swift subtlety, backed Jin down step by controlled step. Jin, Yuki saw, would not be forced to anger and assault, but gave way gracefully, steadily blocking and parrying; Torii-dono deliberately opened his guard, Jin blocked the pulled blow, one straight move, and the master stepped calmly aside. Jin withdrew in turn, as calmly, and final bows were exchanged.
Merciful One, they weren't just telling me stories. He shot a glance at Mariya-sensei--surely he must be filled with pride and joy in his favorite's skill--and what he saw chilled his heart. The Master's face was a tense, unreadable mask, one almost of…alarm? Anger? Could it possibly be fear?
Oh, not you too, shishou--he prayed Jin wouldn't look at Mariya, and he did not, only stood with lowered head, breathing deeply. The muteki-ryu master walked over to him and said something with a smile that brought Jin's head up; another small bow, and Torii-dono went to the table to add his scores to those already compiled by the others. Only then did Jin look to his master for approval, and by then, thank all gods, the man had composed his face into a calm and confident smile. The masters commenced to discuss the test quietly amongst themselves.
Yuki did not know what to think. He dropped back into the alcove, away from the curtains, his heart racing as if he'd fought the duel himself. Mariya-dono's distress, disturbing as it was, seemed a far background noise to what was filling his head. Jin had held a master of a high-grade school at bay for nearly half their battle; had given ground only when the man had plainly moved to a higher level than he'd expected to need against a schoolboy of 17; had never lost his temper, struck in anger, made even a single wasteful move, a true mind-warrior of the mujuushinken-ryu…and oh, gods, the way he moved…
So he thought I'd avoid him once I saw this? He'll see. As soon as I can get him away from all these people, I swear I'll kiss him until neither of us can breathe.
He heard sandals scuffing on the tatami mats, conversation, departing footsteps; the writing lamps and floor candles went dark; it was all over. He held back until there was silence, then peered cautiously out---
No; two had lingered behind in the now-dim hall. Jin and Niwa-dono.
He ducked back behind the curtain, ashamed of himself for wanting to see, but not so ashamed that he'd miss it. The bearded master was speaking warmly to Jin, smiling, every bit as proud and fatherly as Mariya-dono had strangely not been. Jin too was smiling, and that alone was worth lurking in a cupboard to see. Had Jin and the Master once been this way too, when together and unobserved? Tried to picture their stern teacher smiling so, even at his favorite…not possible, even before, and even less so now, it seemed…
The talk turned serious, and Niwa-dono's face looked grave, Jin watching him with concern. Yuki was desperately curious: trouble at the other dojo? How strong was Jin's connection to the place? But then the smile returned again, this time more thoughtful, and Niwa-dono placed both hands on Jin's shoulders, looked into his face. They stepped into a close, gentle embrace, and Yuki quietly exhaled. An ape could see it: the man loved Jin and keenly missed him. Perhaps Jin even felt the same.
Then Yuki saw what they did not: Mariya-dono standing just outside the door, his face once more that unreadable, frightening mask, his gaze held for a long moment on the two before he turned and strode away.
When he was certain everyone had gone, he darted from the practice hall and took the longest way round, all the way behind the stables, to reach the students' rooms by the back path. The moment he raced in he was assailed, as expected.
"You got in! We knew it! You're crazy, Yuki--"
"Here, we saved you some dinner, tell us everything. Every second." A straw tray of grilled fish and vegetable rice was pushed across the mat, but Yuki was too full of his story to think about food. He settled onto the mat, tried to collect his buzzing thoughts.
"You were right, Tada, it was Torii-dono he fought--"
--When he had told the whole thing three times with many pauses for exact detail (and he gave them every one except the last five minutes), discussion commenced, and he set to his cold but very welcome meal--when had he last eaten, anyway? --with an ear on the talk. No one had doubted that the Dojo Ghost would pass the test, but there was universal awe that he had seemed a match for the muteki-ryu master, and Yuki heard that edge of unease, cold and thin as a first new moon, in a voice here and there. He's too good…it's just not possible…not right somehow…
It made him want to slap them. No, it made him want to see Jin. Right now. It made him want to throw his arms around him and prove everyone in the place wasn't such a spooked colt. Oh, how long would it be before he was back in his room? Yuki checked the hour-candle; he knew Jin had had to attend the formal meeting after the test, where the masters would discuss his performance and pronounce his score. He was shocked to find it had been barely three-quarters of an hour since he'd returned from the test; it seemed like hours already.
He held still another quarter hour, and then couldn't stand it; he would walk by the older students' rooms and see if Jin was back yet. And if not, he might just wait. Anything was better than sitting here. Little twinge of regret; if he does become one of my teachers, there'll be no more visiting his room at all hours, I'll bet…I'm going to miss it…
Hiroshi glanced up sharply as he rose. "I know what you're thinking, and you shouldn't."
"Try and stop me."
Caught his sleeve. "One thing, then. Was I right? Did you ever see anything so amazing in your life?"
"Never," Yuki swore earnestly, "even half as amazing."
Hiroshi grinned and released the sleeve. "Probably looking for you. Go."
He ran along the rock path, breath clouding in the cold, bright moonlight catching in spots of frost. No light in Jin's room, no shadow. Oh, curse it. He glanced around; where could he perch himself to wait that wouldn't be too obvious?--
"Looking for someone, Yuki?"
He jumped, though he knew the voice. 'Saisashi, do you do anything except follow me around?"
'Sashi grinned; two of his bigger and stupider friends materialized from the shadow, the shadows, one at each elbow. "Your Takeda boyfriend's not back yet. They're probably still passing the sake' and praising him to each other. Passing him around too, for all I know." (His voice was harsh and a little uneven; maybe, Yuki thought scornfully, he'd had a few shots himself just to get up the nerve to come here.) "So--finally got a good look at him? And still haven't realized what he really is?"
Coldly, intensely angry, he couldn't hold back. No point wondering how Sashi knew he'd seen the test; it probably wasn't too hard to guess. "I do realize it. That's why I'm here to see him. And if you can't understand that--if you don't see how beautiful that is--there's no way you'll ever be samurai."
"Oh, won't I." Spat on the rock path, a bitter edge to his voice. "Beautiful, neh? All that a samurai should be. Someone worthy of you and your five-mon bloodline. " He took a step forward, looked Yuki in the eye, and suddenly there was something there Yuki'd had never seen in him before, something almost like pleading.
"Yuki. Listen to me just once. I know what you thought you saw, but…you can't believe it. That's not skill and training, that's…Yuki, that thing isn't human. It's not. It's too good with a sword to be. It's too damn quiet to be." He clenched his fists helplessly, looked into Yuki's face as if willing him to understand. "It's never been right--"
Yuki stared at him, unbelieving. He'd expected scorn and slander, not this weird, raw terror; Saisashi sounded as if Jin were the stuff of his nightmares. Having started, it was as if he couldn't hush, the words, the fears spilling out:
"That's why you need to think about this, think really hard, Yuki-chan. Are you sure you want that touching you? Do you have any idea what it might want with a boy? Really want?" Yuki was speechless; Saisashi reached out and drew Yuki's long hair slowly through his fingers, watching the moonlight play along it as if mesmerized. His voice was a shade calmer when he spoke again.
"My family's very well placed, I'm in line for quite a respectable position when I graduate from the dojo; it'd be to your advantage to consider my--"
Appalled beyond words, Yuki finally found his voice. "--Shut up, Saisashi. Shut up." Pulled away from him, stood glaring, almost breathless with insult and disgust. "I'd rather be alone the rest of my life than belong to the likes of you."
"I'm as much samurai as you! And I'm--"
Not a ghost. Not a monster. The quiet beauty whose hair he'd put up that morning; the fierce and graceful warrior he'd watched duel Torii-sama to a standstill; it was too much. Yuki reached for his sword.
"Take that back-- farmer."
With the sting of the insult all the dread and pleading left him, and Saisashi touched but didn't draw his blade; long, steady look at Yuki.
"You know, " slowly and coldly, "I am so sick of you purebred brats with your old names and your grandfathers' swords, walking around like you're something. You're nothing, Hojo. It's centuries since your family amounted to anything more than a line on a scroll." Reached for Yuki's hair again; Yuki yanked away, glowering.
"At least now you're honest, pig."
"Face it, Yukimaru. The only chance you have of being anything but poor and helpless is to bed with someone like me--part of the future--"
"Never."
Face twisted into a dark, angry mask. "Just for that I'll make you beg for it." He drew, both stepped back three formal paces, Saisashi rushed and swung--
--gleam and chime of blades, turned to come on again. He was slow, but strong, meeting that blow had made Yuki's shoulders ache, but now--they circled--
"You know you're lucky I've never just cornered you and fucked you. I know I'm stronger than you are."
"I'd kill myself before I'd let you in me." His voice was shaking with fury; he prayed it didn't sound like fear.
"Remember you said that when I have you on your knees, pretty Yuki."
He came in fast, low, Yuki stretching for a defensive lunge on the run, almost stumbling--
Jin was returning from the masters' meeting, walking fast with his head lowered, and not just because of the cold. He'd done well--he'd known that even before he heard the score; he'd kept his balance and his breathing in hand throughout, taken and given ground equally, and there had been not one break in his kata, he was sure of it. And the masters had been unanimous in their praise; every one had said that he was a credit to the Mujuu, the youngest accredited instructor they'd ever passed…
So what was so terribly wrong? Why was he shaking like this? Was it the things Niwa-dono had told him about Gojuu Hall, the threats he had received there, the stranger he had sent from his door; was it the way he had said goodbye to Jin, as if for the last time? Was it…why had Mariya-dono been so reluctant to look at him, so strange and aloof from him, when he was sure he had done his very best?
Could the Master be angry at him? Had he done too well? What gave him this dreadful feeling, this deep, severing chill, too much like the one he remembered? He had sat at the table surrounded by these strangers--all of them feeling strange to him, even his beloved shishou--and had tried to be courteous, but he'd felt as if the floor was tilting under him, preparing to drop him into invisible darkness...finally he'd been able to plead fatigue and leave without insult, and now he was practically running back to his room, wanting nothing but its silence.
Had he failed every moment of the test he could not imagine feeling any worse--
And then he heard the ring of steel on the raked path ahead of him, and an old voice spoke up inside him, one that matched this dark clutch of cold on his heart. Good, an enemy; they won't find me unarmed. In his despair he let it speak, deep and familiar, the only thing that had kept back the nightmares, the smell of blood. Yes. Let them come, then. And he ran on without hesitating, recognizing the fighters' angry voices as he came near, sensing the tone of the fight like a scent in the air. Saisashi. Saisashi and the one he already longed to protect. It was a relief, something understandable and real, without doubt. He came on fast, drawing his sword.
Sudden flash of a third blade that deflected both theirs off and up harmlessly, a blade and a gleaming, dragon-embroidered sleeve--
Saisashi's voice was no more than a snarl. "Keep out of this, mononoke."
Yuki didn't even look at him, circling, not wanting to lose eye-contact with Saisashi. "Let me fight him, Jin!"
"You let him provoke you." Voice cold and winter-night still. "We don't brawl with trash like this." So fast neither saw him move, the tip of Jin's katana was poised under Saisashi's chin. "You know what the ashigaru fight with, Yuki? Lance and bow. And the matchlock." The word was a spit of venom. "Guns. And kitchen steel like that." Eloquent toss of the chin in the direction of the deflected blade.
"You're calling my sword a kitchen knife?"
The gleaming point moved closer. "Your sword is a kitchen knife. And you are an ignorant dog with no manners. Touch Yukimaru again, or call yourself samurai in my hearing, and I will take your head."
Saisashi--of all things--laughed, a quick sharp bark.
"Look at him, Yuki." A note that was almost triumphant. "Take a good look at this beast. Think what he might do. You'd really rather have him for your elder brother than me?"
"Don't speak to him." The point drew a drop of blood.
Yuki did not need to be told to look at Jin; he could not have pulled his eyes away. He was fierce and pitiless as a hunting animal, pale skin pulled tight over sharp bones, grey eyes burning with cold fury. He stared down the length of his katana as if he could already feel it slicing into Saisashi's throat… Yuki swallowed.
Mononoke…angry, vengeful spirit…they'd said he wasn't human, and look at him…
Jin wanted to kill him, Yuki could feel it, feel the intensity of that anger on his skin--
"Yukimaru--" Saisashi's voice louder, reckless--"if you look this ghost in the eye and say you want to be his, I'll know you're mad, and I'll be done with both of you."
Yuki took a step forward, trembling from head to foot. And another. He reached out a shaking hand and laid it on the blue-green sleeve.
"Jin--"--his voice was not steady, but it was clear--"I can't ask it of you…but if you asked to be my onii-san, I'd accept."
The beautiful spirit turned its head to regard him, hardly seeming to see him. Yuki swallowed harder, throat dry, and reached out, touched his bare throat, slid up to press his palm to Jin's cheek. Only a whisper. "--I would."
For a moment nothing at all..
..then those eyes as wild as a lightning storm half-closed to his touch, and the blade slowly descended. Yuki began to breathe again.
"Yukimaru, " a ghostly whisper, "little brother--"
"Let's go," he whispered, and he and the mononoke quit the field of battle, Saisashi cackling mirthessly after them.
He sat with his head in his hands, shivering in the frosty grass behind the stables, speaking in a low, anguished voice. "What have I done? Everything I've learned...somehow…" He could barely breathe. "I've failed everyone, and I don't even know how--Niwa-dono would be ashamed of me--"
"He'll never know." Yuki's eyes never left his face.
"I'll know. I should have--"
"Jin!" He'd had enough, grabbed his shoulder, forced him to look around. "Will you stop that? Think of what you said to me!"
"What?" Blank, drained stare.
"You agreed--you called me ototo. Please don't say you didn't mean it." Suddenly so afraid--Jin was staring at him as if he were speaking some strange tongue--
"…you really meant that?"
"Meant it!" He dug his fingers into the thin sloped shoulders. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you looked? You were splendid. You were magnificent. I was hot and cold all over, I would have walked through fire to touch you. Do you understand me?"
Jin's anguished stare slowly bcame a light of genuine wonder.
'You still aren't afraid of me."
"Of course I'm afraid of you. Only a blind idiot wouldn't be afraid of you. But that's--that doesn't matter--I wouldn't have anyone who was tame." His heart was pounding so hard he could barely speak, how was he going to say it--he had been so afraid that the toad was right, that the samurai age was over, that there would never be a warrior to love him, a soul that loved and hated and believed as passionately as his-- he had to understand--
"--can't you tell how I feel? I want you more than anything."
Slowly, unfolding, Jin reached out to him, held out his hands, shaking. Yuki took them in his, then moved in between them, wrapped Jin in his arms, hugged him as close as he could.
"Beautiful, don't, don't be so afraid, please…whatever's wrong, no matter what, you've got me--"
Jin leaned into his arms, laid his head against Yuki's shoulder. The trembling began to ease, and Yuki stroked his head; Jin folded his arms around him and held him tight.
"…Snowflake." It was a breath, barely a whisper.
Very fondly and tenderly: "…ghost."
He swore to all the gods in all the shrines of Japan: not till the last moment of his life would he ever let this one go.
Vocabulary for this chapter:
Edited Dec. 9th to correct forms of personal address. Arigatou, Neko-san )
One of the possible translations of Yukimaru's name is "little snow" (or "snow circle"), so Jin guesses he's not the first one to think of calling Yuki "Snowflake" as a pet name. He is, however, mistaken.
The Five Schools: Bizen, Yamashiro, Yamato, Soshu and Mino. The provinces from which issued 80 percent of the magnificent blades from the golden age of Japanese swordmaking, c. 900-1450.
Masatsune: a noted smith of the ko-bizen (early Bizen) period, operating not far from Yukimaru's home province of Izu. Several generations of this name were swordsmiths, which is why Jin notes that Yuki's heirloom was made by the first one.
Ashigaru: the only class of non-nobles ever allowed to become samurai. In 1588-1591, the shogun Toyotomi Hideyoshi enacted two ordinances absolutely dividing the warrior and farmer classes. The part-time warriors called ashigaru, who fought with the bow and lance --later, the matchlock pistol--and were farmers when not at war, were redefined as warriors by these ordinances and thus entered the social class of samurai, even though not born there. True samurai were not impressed.
Ryokai (Two Worlds) Mandala: an esoteric Buddhist image combining the Diamond World and Womb World mandalas. Jin probably acquired it after his introduction to Shingon Buddhism.
"kitchen steel" (hocho-tetsu) --a very nasty insult to a cheap sword. Yuki does much the same, though more politely, when he calls it "shinto steel"; "shin-to" means "new sword" [not to be confused with the Shinto religion] and swords thus designated are noted for their emphasis on looks over usefulness. (That's what the deal about the fancy maple-leaf hamon is about, whereas Yuki's blade's hamon is in a classically simple style. )
