Sleepwalker, chapter 6--the widening gyre, part 2

NOTE: includes several more instances of Jin x Yuki--yes, that's male x male-- sex: be warned.

And if you want even more, please read "Interlude in Edo", which was cut from this chapter.


Usual disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Samurai Champloo, which are owned & (c) 2004-06 and forever by Manglobe, Simoigusa Champloos and Watanabe-sensei: but gods, I don't know what I'd do without them.

Especial and particular gratitude to Gecko-san, without whose fearless criticism this would still be mired in excess; and to overworked sister ArielTheTempest, who's waited a long time for it.

And thanks to everyone who's read this and written me a review. Reviews plus coffee equal life.

Edited July 2009 to prune the fangirl Japanese. OK, except the dates.

the widening gyre, part 3--the last part--will follow very soon. Promise, x my heart.


Shichigatsu (July) to Juichigatsu (November).


.If the Master could hear my thoughts now, surely he'd not worry about my dedication so. Look at all that's happened, and still my first concern is what he said to me when he signed this letter...

They were walking back from the Edo ferry dock, the morning after Yuki's 16th birthday. It was a perfect summer day, and Yuki-chan was in high spirits, telling stories of his adventures on the previous Genjo tour and delighted to hear Jin actually laugh. (Who'd have believed so well-bred a youngest son had been in such scrapes with such people?--none of which, Jin would bet, Yuki's Mama-san knew anything about.) Jin felt quite sure that a good boyfriend should push aside any thoughts of school or trouble at a time like this, and perhaps he ought to try, but…

The Master had seemed surprised that anyone, especially Jin, was planning to travel. "I don't like the idea of you going so far from the dojo. I've heard disquieting things of late; I'd much prefer you and the nanadan all remained here until further notice. And you want to stay overnight in Edo with a junior student in your care? You're asking a great deal of me, Izumiyori..."

But he'd signed the letter of permission, folded it in neat thirds. "See that you're both on the first ferry back in the morning. And if Hojo-kun is even scratched, you'll be the one to explain it to his family."

His tone had been...odd somehow. Of course they couldn't afford any offense to Yuki's wealthy clan, but…had the Master noticed their constant togetherness, and divined Jin's real reason for taking him off alone? Did he disapprove? Neither of them was dating beneath his station; perhaps he thought Jin's training would suffer from the distraction of ayounger brother?

Patient sigh. He reminded himself that the Master had never taken a lover (…why was that?…) , and perhaps didn't see there was more than one kind of love. Neither he nor Yuki was at all less dedicated to the sword these days, perhaps even more, as they were in close training so much of their time. And Yuki was the sharpest he'd ever been, even though he spent at least a third of each match--it was charmingly obvious-- just admiring his onii-san. Even with his favorite Jin was sternly exacting, requiring his best without excuse, and it was plain Yuki would sooner have died than disappointed him. They were both the better for it: how could the Master be unhappy with that?

No, he knew what it was: that strange, dark edge of near-jealousy, that desire to keep Jin in total service to the Mujuu, locking out all else. Flash of sharp, black anger: if he wants me so badly he should have taken me in brotherhood when I was fourteen, it was his right and privilege… It wasn't that kind of jealousy, and yet in so many ways it felt the same.

The anger faded; he had to smile, looking over at Yuki. He doesn't understand, because he's never had someone as sweet as this…maybe he's never even loved the way we do…


Mariya-dono was still gazing out through the half-open door. They say an old warhorse never forgets the smell of battle, the steel and the blood, and will scent it on the wind no matter how long he's been out at pasture. It's long since I've been called to fight, but that's what I smell; battle on the way to our door, steel and blood…

He'd been maneuvered, he admitted it: as cleverly as he'd ever been by a foe, if much more politely. He'd already noted the Hojo boy's attachment to Jin and Jin's tolerance of it, but now he saw it all. Jin was not just indulging a younger student's harmless crush; they were brothers, lovers even, or if not yet, certainly by the time they returned from Edo. He's planned this to give them time alone, and now he virtually has my signed permission to seduce the boy. It's wisely said that the ones we love can be even more clever and sly than our enemies.

---But it was beyond belief! How could he be so foolish as to fall in love at a time like this? When everything might be at stake, when they would all be called upon to be most wary and watchful? To let his will and loyalty be divided, his attention distracted this way--what could he be thinking? Was it possible that he sensed none of the alarms his master did, that even the falcon's sharp eyes could be clouded so?

As it had before, a dark, bitter voice spoke inside him. I should never have sent him to Gojuu Hall; he would be the merciless sentinel we need if his heart were still cold…

But.. the voice of a father spoke up as well. See how changed he is. A calm, confident young man, with a younger brother under his wing. Have you forgotten it yourself?--the frightened boy who came homeless to your door; the stern, distant warrior-child that even the nanadan feared? Can you truly say you regret that he's been healed?

He closed his eyes. I only hope we don't pay a hard price for it.

Because it was coming: he was sure of it. The day when they would all smell the smoke of battle.

---There was a tap on the doorframe, and Mariya looked up in surprise. "Hai?"

"Forgive me, Master--there's someone to see you."

Who would demand entrance at this time of the evening? He laid a hand on his short sword. "Send him in."


They'd had only one sandalwood candle, and no moonlight, but what they did have was more than enough, peace and quiet and each other… Jin was still smiling as they walked, remembering how their night had gone. Just as he'd hoped and dreamed, and more. He'd been sure that an opening like his own would be perfect for Yuki's curiosity and sensuality, and he'd been lucky enough to find an antique set of polished rods for sale in Edo…

(--an hour, near two, the candle half gone, night air rich with perfume and musk, both of them panting and gleaming, and Yuki--trembling from head to foot--had found his breath and begged him. "I want you. Gods, I want you. Please..")

---"Yuhei-san, I do know what you're thinking about." Yuki walked up beside him, laced fingers through his and gazed up at him none too innocently. "Would you like to pass some time in this nice, shady plum grove before we go home? They're not waiting for us, are they?"


(--For the full story of Yuki's birthday party, please read "Interlude in Edo". )


It took all his composure to remain impassive when he saw the scarred man's smile.

"Mariya-san. A pleasure to see you looking so well. It's been ten years, hasn't it?"

"Eleven, Kwaidan-san." Eleven years since that night he would never forget…

His visitor was gazing around the room thoughtfully, nodding as though it were just as expected. "They haven't been easy years, have they? Even the finest schools are beginning to suffer. I see it in my travels, day after day."

"The Mujuushin Kenjutsu stands, as it has and will stand," said Mariya, stiffly. "And to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"Ah, sensei, no need to be defensive. After all, the Shogun counts you as a friend and ally." Kwaidan smiled; the scar from cheekbone to jaw made his left eye tighten. "The offer we have for you is further payment for your services. In fact, it's rather a compliment."

"I was more than well…paid…at the time." The memory filled his mind: Kwaidan, a junior captain then, stepping through the back door to lay the silk-wrapped bundle in his arms. Spoils of the Takeda estate, yours to do with as you please. The Shogun appreciates your loyalty and silence. And he had taken it and bowed, unable to speak, hearing the horses stamp and snort outside, trying to block from his senses the reek of blood…

"That was the past. This is your future...this dojo's future. But we'll speak of it in the morning." Kwaidan rose. "May we have the honor of your first appointment tomorrow? My master is looking forward to meeting you."

"…I have one question. One I should have asked then." Steadying pause. "Did you kill them yourself?"

"I? No." The scarred man shook his head. "Lord Takeda was a master swordsman. I'm just a plain soldier, with no such skills. It was our Captain of Guard, if it eases your mind to know it."

Mariya bowed most formally. "Then I will certainly meet with you in the morning."

And when the man had left his study he bowed to the shrine in the corner and gave deep thanks that Jin was not here. It seemed he'd underestimated the boy's sense of smell, at that…


"You never have told me why you took up the biwa…"

"Well, a gentleman should know one of the arts at least, no? And those wonderful stories--not just the scary ones, but the heroes and their famous swords and the great battles…" deep sigh, his head on Jin's shoulder. "The kind you and I were born to fight in, and never will."

"Do you regret it?" More serious than amused.

Yuki gazed up at the bright leaf-dappled sky. "You know, when I was little I thought it was so great to be a Hojo, even though we aren't from the most noble branch of the family. All I ever wanted to be was the best samurai I possibly could, and my father and mother thought it was funny, or sad…" reflective pause. "I guess there's not much for a swordsman to do anymore, even a Mujuu swordsman. But it's still the only thing I want to be."

"You're becoming a good one. Your family should never regret your training."

"From you that's high praise. I should let you tell Mama-san that. Did I ever tell you that when I got my first shinai and kendo gear she thought it was so cute--" --wince--"that she had my portrait painted wearing it? It's still hanging in the entry hall, I'm sure. I bet she still has the outfit, too."

Jin sighed. People who still have their family homes and doting mothers haven't much room to complain

--then he heard the noise in the trees. An instant later Yuki heard it too--a heavy rustle and creak, too big for an animal. And again. On their feet and back to back, blades out in a flash, they scanned the forest alertly--

A muffled but familiar voice. "Hoi, Jin and Yuki! It's just us!"

Yuki blinked, lowered his sword. "Hiroshi!"

"--coming down!" And in a shower of twigs big Hiroshi dropped to the ground, landing neatly, his constant sidekick Tadayo right behind. Yuki was about to laugh and ask what ninja game they were playing, but that was erased by the tall boy's expression as he hurried over to Jin.

"The Master wanted someone to reach you before you got to the gate, so we volunteered. We've got visitors, they arrived last night. Kougijin, sent by the Shogun's council, two of them. They're meeting with the Master this morning."

Jin startled--Mariya-dono's premonition had been right. Had he been wrong to leave after all?

"What do they want?" It could be something innocent, some administrative trifle…

"We don't know." Tadayo picked up the story, letting Hiroshi catch his breath. "They just arrived, ordered rooms and a meal as if we were innkeepers--hmph--and said they'd see Mariya-dono as early as possible. All the Master said was that he wanted the nanadan to stand by until called for. And you, too." He kept his face absolutely straight. "So you two had better get dressed."

--Yuki didn't know what to think as they hurried along the dojo road: it was as if from nowhere a summer storm had rolled in, the bright sky of his day suddenly dark and edged with thunder. Jin turned to him at the gate, plainly torn between haste and concern and the wish for a loving farewell, and Yuki made the choice for him: a fond but discreet hug.

"Thank you, onii-san. I had a wonderful time."

"You're welcome, ototo." Jin kissed his forehead. "I don't know when I'll see you--"

He kissed the tip of his true love's nose. "Don't worry about that. You go."

Hiroshi tapped his shoulder as Jin strode off up the path. "But you really did have a good time, right?"

It occurred to him that he was 16 now, and no longer Jin's student. He would report to the nanadan in the fall, however things were come fall… He watched the tall blue shape draw away, filled with a strange wariness, wondering what else had ended with the close of his fifteenth year.

"--Best ever."


Mariya Enshirou sat facing them over the tea table: the cat and the tiger. Hosokawa Kwaidan, and Kwaidan's master, Kariya Kagetoki.

It was like something in a strange dream, to be sharing tea with a man so coldly formidable: the Divine Hand himself, most feared of all the Shogun's blades. Mariya felt wryly flattered that such an icon, long retired from service--thirteen years, at least--should have been called back to duty just to impress the likes of him. Everything about Kariya, from his balance as he sat to his steady eyes, neatly trimmed beard and the control of his deep even voice, spoke of strength, training and total discipline. His straw kasa hat, the samurai's disguise, sat on the table by his hand, a reminder that he traveled in anonymity and expected it to stay so. He let his aide do most of the talking, and that too was power, the knowledge that his presence was even more imposing in silence. --Mariya's sword stood in the rack by the door along with his guests' katanas, but --like theirs--his wakizashi was at his side within quick reach, and he did not relax for a moment.

"As I mentioned last night," Kwaidan was saying,"the Shogun wishes to give you a further reward for your loyalty. We have been visiting a number of dojos, but yours has always been high on the list, because of the Shogun's respect for the quality of your school's teachings--and my Master's respect as well." Kariya nodded in grave agreement. "The schools continue to train swordsmen---but the age of war is over. A new age is coming. Our wisest men believe we will eventually deal and trade with the West, and we will need different skills than before. Skills less...honorable, perhaps."

Kwaidan folded his fingers. "Master Mariya, we will be direct. The Shogun requests you to place the Kisarazu Dojo of Mujuushin Kenjutsu under my Master's supervision, to train special operatives for the Shogun's Council. Highly skilled and secret operatives."

"Assassins," said Mariya coldly.

Kwaidan smiled; it was unsettling. "Do you not think it suitable?"

Mariya controlled his indignation, turned to Kwaidan's master. "Kariya-dono, with all respect--you've forgotten everything you learned here, if you believe the Mujuu could train assassins. Our discipline barely acknowledges the presence of an opponent; we contest technique, movement, the flow of power, not men themselves. To be assigned to kill, to kill intentionally, deliberately--only for his soul's revenge could a Mujuu swordsman do that. Not for a master, even the Shogun himself."

Kariya glanced at his second, who nodded. "We expected you to say so," replied Kwaidan calmly. "But consider the reward: in return, the Shogun offers you full support of this dojo."

Mariya came to a full stop.

"Full support, Mariya-san." The scarred man drew a folded document from his sleeve, laid it on the tea-table. "All your debts settled, all your expenses covered, every month, every year. You need never again worry about such demeaning things as profit. Your only concern would be your students and your art, as it should be."

It took him a very long moment to speak. "But is it my art I would teach here?"

"Of course," Kariya assured him. "As we've said, both the Shogun and I have great respect for the Mujuu. I was trained here myself, and I feel certain that this is the richest soil for the seeds of our new style." Again the tiger smiled. "We will design matchless hiegakure here, Mariya-san."

It took him a long while to speak.

"…..I will consider it. But I doubt we will ever be so desperate as to take patronage at such a price."

Kwaidan bowed and returned the letter to his sleeve. "We will surely speak again."

And paused in the doorway as Kariya stepped outside. "Ah yes: one more thing? We've heard you have a student of exceptional skill here…"


Kariya glanced over as his aide caught up with him in the hall. "You asked him?"

Nod. "He admits that the boy's a Takeda, but says he's a very distant kinsman, from an insignificant branch of the clan."

"If the boy's as good as Taira said he was, Mariya would tell any lie to protect him; he's the best hope the man has of keeping his school alive. We already know he's being groomed as Kisarazu's next master." (There was no reason to doubt the account of the big Yagyuu swordsman, a long-time friend, who had heard this directly from Mariya himself.) Kariya looked thoughtful, settling his hat evenly over his eyes. "Find out whatever you can about him. Something about his age troubles me."

His age? --wondered Hokosawa Kwaidan, but he knew better to ask aloud. "Of course, Kariya-dono."


The warm sun and the buzzing cicadas assured him it was summer, but Mariya, standing in his study, felt chilled to the bone. He had known, in his heart, that someday his deeds of that night would hunt him down, but that made it no easier to face them…

He had betrayed his kindred. It was as bare as that. He'd known the Shogun's men were bearing down on the Takeda estate in Kai, and he'd done nothing, sent no warning. He couldn't afford it, he'd told himself; if he defended them, he would lose his dojo, perhaps even his life. The Mujuu was a small school, not a widespread one with powerful friends like the Yagyuu-ryu; his only safety was his promised allegiance to House Tokugawa, and maintain that allegiance he must. So he'd kept silence; and when the riders had come by that night--the young Captain Kwaidan and the blood-stained soldiers--and handed him this bundle he held again now, he'd told himself it was a hard but necessary choice.

He looked at the unwrapped parcel on the tea-table. A few papers--the deed to Kai had been one of them, and that he had already returned to its rightful owner; a handsome, dark-blue daisho with a curious tsuba design of Buddha-eyes and lightning, Jin's grandfather's swords, to be his next year; a Takeda clan kimono in indigo silk, hardly worn. There had been a cotton one as well, but Mariya had accepted that for his own use; with Jin's father dead, he himself was, after all, the senior surviving male of the clan. Neither the first nor the last to rise in rank by violent means, he'd told himself…

He'd thought this was all there would be to it, this and his troubled conscience. And then, the same night, not two hours later, another party of horsemen had come to his door; and the bundle they carried was nothing so easy to put aside and forget.

At that moment, Mariya Enshirou had understood with perfect clarity the fineness with which the gods balance and measure out men's fate. Here was his chance to atone for the wrong he'd done--here, in the form of a shivering, orphaned boy. He could take him in, train and raise him, take the place of the parents he'd refused to save. But the price would be the very peace of mind he'd tried to buy with his silence; if it were ever learned that he'd accepted the Shogun's favor, and then willingly harbored the most dangerous possible survivor, the Takeda son and heir…

All this had flashed through his mind as he stood at his back door, hearing the stumbling, angry and horrified voices of the horsemen--they wore the mon of the Tsuchiya clan, minor Takeda vassals, but loyal to the last--who had reached Kai too late and found what the Shogun's riders had left behind. And he'd realized there was no choice at all. Refusing to take in the child would be an admission of guilt; taking him in might indeed, ease the guilt and pain he already felt. And he was a man without son or heir of his own, or chance of either. Besides--his duellist's mind noted clearly and dispassionately--if this young man ever learns who failed to warn his family of the blade swinging toward their heads, far better if you're his friend and benefactor than a stranger he has no reason to spare.

So it had been done; and now, the spiral coiled back in on itself, and they'd heard, somehow, that his finest student was a Takeda boy, nearly eighteen years of age.


"It's just as we'd heard from other schools. Including Niwa-dono's, as Izumiyori told us last winter."

Jin, Sengai and Jisho were standing before the Master's desk as he summarized his morning meeting. "The Shogun means to absorb the best dojos into his service, and leave any who refuse behind, to struggle or die.

"We face a hard battle." He paced the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. "We must focus all our strength on the success of this dojo. Set aside all distractions. We must keep the students we have, at the very least. I'll expect regular reports from all of you on their progress, beginning as soon as classes resume." Irritable sigh. "I'll have to ask all of you to take less time for personal pleasures. Izumiyori-kun, you'll need to see less of the Hojo boy. Sengai-san and Jisho-san--"a dry smile--"with these demands, you'll want to get more sleep." He took no notice of three surprised stares. "And I'm sure I need not mention that there will be no discussion of this with students--any students," with a sharp look at Jin. "It's unfortunate that three of them already know as much as they do, but that can't be helped. No further.---That will do for now."

Until they were halfway back to the masters' quarters they were silent; then Sengai said slowly, "Did it sound to you as though the Master is already considering that offer?"

"--That we must fight, but we may lose." Jisho nodded. " I heard that too." And he didn't tell us everything, I'd bet my sword on that.. He shook his head. "Hmf. Trouble or no, I have no intention of letting even Mariya-dono tell me when to have sex."

(Sengai trod firmly on his foot.)


They spent hours together that week and the next, trying to form a plan. The Mujuu's reputation as a subtle and lofty art, a shimpo kenjutsu--sword school of the mind--had always been a strength rather than a liability, before. It appealed to those of a spiritual nature (and those who just thought they were), who wanted to submerge themselves in a world that was half magical, to breathe the flow of a movement, to train with closed eyes. To be not mere fighters but warriors of the soul. It was this that made their school precious and beautiful, above all others, and they loved it without reserve--on this they all agreed. But it was this same subtlety that made it hard, it seemed, to attract students these days…

"No one has time for these things now. We're lucky to have the ones we do have." Jisho watched a little pack sparring on the open lawn, wearing those black haori painted with clan mon and heroes' names --Masamune, Musashi, Yoshitsune--that were the dojo fad this summer. "Aren't there more boys like these anywhere? Who still think the sword is something wonderful all by itself?"

"Perhaps the Master would be happier if he had more students in his own classes. They are a bit thin." Sengai passed the pipe to Jin: the nanadan allowed themselves this indulgence when they needed to think clearly and calmly, and had drawn Jin into their circle. "You could promote Masato, little brother; I think he's far and away your best. --Jin-san, how good would you say Hojo-kun is?"

Jisho raised an eyebrow--"What a rude question, onii-san!"--but Jin was considering it most thoughtfully.; when he'd had a little smoke he addressed everything with a careful, owlish gravity which Jisho found thoroughly endearing.

"I think …yes, he could do that. He's improved quite a lot with my personal attention." (Jisho could now not keep a straight face, and Sengai looked reproving.) "And he might do even better with a teacher who doesn't distract him, which I do..."

"Well, since he'll be my student when classes resume, I think I'll nominate him as well." And that, Sengai added to himself, will guarantee Jin sees him every day no matter how grave things become. Sidelong, fond glance at his longtime partner. Shishou is right to insist we work our hardest on this, but he can't force brothers apart, not mine nor yours.

And Jin smiled to himself. Thank you, Sengai-dono, and Merciful One; I never even thought of that…



But by the third week of classes Yuki was nearly to the breaking point. He'd already been put on edge by Jin's sudden secrecy; he refused to detail their mysterious meeting with the Master, except to say that he was sure his hard work would convince Mariya-dono he could afford one distraction in his life. Yuki wasn't too happy at being relegated to distraction status, but something told him he daren't argue the point…

And then there was this. Mariya had been silent the first day he saw them both in his master's class, but as days passed he had criticized Yuki with increasing sharpness, had all but openly accused Jin of somehow maneuvering Sengai-dono into a favorable assignment for his boyfriend. Jin refused to be baited, and continued to train Yuki, silently demanding that the Master see the actual quality of the young swordsman's work, admit that he deserved to be there. Yuki had been terrified when he'd heard of it.

"Brother, he'll kill me. I'm not good enough, I know I'm not."

"If you were already good enough, love, why would you stay in school? The whole point of more difficult classes is to challenge your skill. And--" the grey eyes had gleamed like steel--"I want him to see we can work together. That we're stronger together than apart."

So he had applied himself as never before, and it was exhilarating in a way he'd never imagined, to be defying the Master's iron will, to feel himself becoming sharper and faster, to be closer to Jin, united in will, more like him every day. Tadayo commented that they even looked more alike. He held his own with all the others in the class--there were only five of them--and of that he was proud, but his duels with Jin he cherished; they faced Mariya-dono day after day, side by side, with perfect respect but ironclad purpose, and sparred like warrior lovers, sharp brilliant matches with flashes of elegance and deep, breathless heat; and the Master was furious. Something had to give way and Yuki was afraid it would be himself. I am good enough; I'm getting better; but he's always, always on my back--

There was something in the way he watched them spar together--

And one day he told Yuki to stay after class, and started in without preamble.

"Hojo-kun, I've asked Izumiyori to deal with this, but where you're concerned he's quite obstinate. Therefore I ask you: please break off your relationship with him."

Yuki, prepared to defend his progress with the sword, was caught totally off guard. "--Master?"

"You must stop seeing him at once. It's obvious that you occupy his mind a great deal of the time, and the school cannot afford that. I need him at his most focused, and you make that impossible." The man's face was set stone, not angry, just implacable. "I regret this, Hojo-kun, but it is for the good of the Mujuu."

Suddenly Yuki saw it, and was furious.

"I decline, Master."

"You what?"

"I refuse. I will not. You don't know what you're asking us to do, you don't have a beloved of your own, but if you did you'd see. I can't possibly leave Jin, I could stop breathing more easily." He was shaking with anger, clenched his fists to keep from gripping his sword. "You're so jealous of me--"

"Hojo-kun, stop at once."

"You are jealous. You think you own him. You raised and trained him and you think that gives you his whole life, but it doesn't. He loves you, and the Mujuu, but he loves me too. And nothing can change that." He knew he was right; he looked straight into the Master's fierce black eyes, fearless with the strength and truth of his words. "Jin will not leave me just because you tell him to. And I won't tell him to."

(Was it even deeper?-- he wondered too quickly to speak it. Did he want Jin without knowing it? Was watching them too intense to bear? He remembered Niwa-dono; it wouldn't be the first time--)

The man trembled with rage, but said nothing, and Yuki knew he was pinned; he could not afford to banish anyone from the Mujuu, or offend the noble Hojo family. And...he couldn't deny a word of it. Not one word.

Yuki took a deep breath. "If I'm not worthy to study with you, shishou, place me where you will. But judge me on myself. Don't drive me out to punish Jin or me."

Mariya turned his back. "You may go, Hojo-kun."

The steely control of his voice said this was not over, yet Yuki as he ran down the path felt invincible, tingling with energy. He had dueled the Master to a standstill!--

But he did not see Jin the rest of that day, or after class the next, and on the third day he was ready for a fight.

"Why are you avoiding me?" A hissed whisper as they awaited their turn to spar.

"You challenged the Master. Challenged him personally." Low, angry whisper in return. "I've been trying to settle his doubts for months, and you do such a thing."

"But wasn't I right?"

"That's not the point. He's my father, not yours. We should face him together or not at all."

Yuki was speechless; others were starting to glance at them. "But he told me--"

"I don't care what he told you, you shouldn't have done it."

"I--why, you --" He could not believe it; he'd thought Jin would be proud of him. "How can you say that? He's trying to own you! Do you love me or not?"

"--Takeda and Hojo, next."

And they were facing each other across the tatami mat with drawn swords. The others' buzz had fallen silent. The Master was watching them.

Jin came at him and he knew at once this was no game. He was so fast-- blocked, struck back, a flurry of blows before even one coherent thought--he had to prove everything here, right now. Jin forced him back and back, almost to his knees--the room gasped--Yuki seized his balance, forced himself onto his feet. Think faster than that, idiot, remember what he's taught you, breathe--no panic--But there was no time to remember. Jin gave him a bare half-second to gain back his footing and came on again, so effortless, fluid, so familiar with the way he moved -- every moment they'd shared now used against him. It was all Yuki could do just to keep his blade up and see the flashing strikes coming, already panting for breath. Remember him fighting Torii-dono, he thought desperately, take the fight to him. Summoning up everything he threw down a fast three-strike combination--counter once, twice, come in high and catch his downstroke--and it gave him a half-step toward Jin but he already knew it was all he had left. Face to face, blade forced against blade, he was trembling with the effort of simply resisting, standing his ground---

Then the grey eyes caught fire and Jin simply cut him down. A perfect, classical movement, blinding fast--forward, blade swept up to break the lock and force his away, back down with a sweep that could have cut him in half if he hadn't dropped to the floor, and the flat of Jin's sword was pressed against his throat. Jin on one knee pressed him down and back, Yuki catching himself on both hands, gasping, staring at him. Eyes that met his were fierce as a hunting bird's, drawing-blood sharp without mercy. No one was breathing. Yuki couldn't move. Heart beat his ribs so hard it must bruise.

(--names of God---he was so beautiful---)

Whisper like ice wind through willows. "Don't ever doubt me, Yukimaru."

And dropped his head and kissed him, in front of the Master and the whole dojo, everyone.


"Master, I respectfully request a word with you."

Mariya looked up from his polishing ."Sengai? Of course." He set aside the sword and polishing-stick, sat back from the table.

The tall swordmaster sat down, sighed and spoke bluntly. "Shishou, I was one of your own teachers. I have known Takeda-kun since he was six. I do not hesitate to say I know you both very well." He accepted the teacup offered him. "Whatever rivalry has arisen between you two, you must settle it. You've tested him over and over again; there can't be any question of his loyalty to you."

Mariya looked at the table. "He chose this quarrel when he refused to set aside the Hojo boy."

"--forgive me, but you chose this quarrel. Takeda-kun will work for you and the dojo every minute of his day, but surely our nights are our own. It is wisely said that who tries to grip water in his hands will see it all slip through his fingers." More gently: "You cannot treat being in love as an act of treason, Mariya-dono. If that were so you should have dismissed Jisho-kun and me long since."

Long pause. "Did you appoint Hojo-kun to my class on your own judgment?"

"I did. And I have not seen cause to regret it."

"I'm not referring to his skill, Sengai-san.---which I do admit is greater than expected."

"I still do not regret it." Sengai folded his hands on the table. "They both want to prove themselves to you, and the sword is the only way we know, any of us." He looked up, met Mariya's eyes. "Shishou--the Mujuu cannot afford to have you and your son in opposition. I ask as your servant and as a nanadan master; please forgive him and settle your differences. We must combine our strengths, not divide them."

If only he could tell them…there was no one to whom he could unburden his aching heart, even these most trusted of comrades…

But he understood himself well enough. I know what I do. I have almost hoped Jin would be angry with me, step away from me, before he learns what I've done.

Should I not hear Sengai-san? Can Jin and I not be reconciled somehow? Should I speak as his father rather than his sensei? Perhaps I hold his loyalty more strongly with trust and memory than with honor.

The bold, honest anger of the Hojo boy's eyes: he loves you and the Mujuu, but he loves me too…

"..I have never dealt well with matters of love." A quiet, weary admission. "You are right, Sengai-san; I should better have half a bowl of water than none at all. I will talk to him."

Sengai rose to leave; Mariya raised his hand. "One more question…have you and Jisho-san been lovers as long as I've known you?"

Amused eyebrow. "No, Master. We swore our brotherhood seven years ago. I doubt it has dulled our swords."

"I must admit--" thoughtfully, as he picked up the sword and polishing tool--"that I noticed no difference at all."


It didn't matter that he had stood up to Jin twice as long as anyone had bet he could. It didn't matter that even the masters had complimented him afterward, that Masato had hugged him and draped him in one of those cool black haori--"Hojo, you earned your stripes with that and no mistake." No one's praise, even his own knowledge that he had excelled himself, made any difference.

He sat on the flagstones by the willow pond, stared into the water unseeing. Jin had shamed him. He had dropped all pretense of training him equally and shown just how inferior he really was. He had beaten him like a dog in front of the Master and everyone, and then kissed him, just to show he owned Yuki body and soul. Last night he would have said of course I'm yours without hesitation, but now…

And he had scared him. He'd almost forgotten in their happiness that the Jin he loved was a creature of two worlds--the mononoke, beloved of kitsune and death-goddesses--until he faced those cold brilliant eyes. Sweet and tender he could be, but unmasked he was a pure force of nature, inexorable. And it made his pulse rush with terror and heat--that kiss had felt like lightning--but--

---he could have killed me. Maybe he would have killed me. Yuki's fists clenched in the grass. I couldn't have stopped him.

--A soft tread at his side. "You weren't in class this morning, Hojo-kun."

He bowed his head resignedly. "Forgive me, Master." (No matter what he said it couldn't feel any worse.)

"Izumiyori is the best student in the dojo. It's no shame to lose to someone so skillful."

He sat down beside Yuki; the young samurai blinked in surprise. (But he won. Is he going to console me?)

It was a moment before the Master spoke, gazing pensively, as Yuki did, into the willow pond.

"Sometimes, there's more wisdom in conceding a partial victory, than brooding over what's been lost…"


Kariya Kagetoki was studying three letters. In a careful search by the tireless Kwaidan of documents filed with the Shogunate, they were all that had been found for this young man; his master had kept him hidden away most carefully, indeed…

A document authorizing the assumption of an orphan's adult name, Izumiyori.

A document requesting the adoption of this same orphaned Izumiyori as Mariya Enshiro's legal son and heir.

And…

Kariya smiled slowly.

A bill of sale, dated between the other two, finalizing the sale of a certain estate in the province of Kai: an estate of whose history Kariya was well aware. Co-signed by Mariya Enshiro, proceeds deposited in his name. The primary signee: Takeda Izumiyori.

I knew it.



Tadayo bent down to tug at his sleeve. "Yuki, someone's here to see you."

He did not rise from his futon. "Who is it?"

"Like I have to tell you. He respectfully requests the pleasure of your company for a walk in the peach orchard."

Yuki nosed into the pillow. "Say I'm asleep."

Tadayo kicked his shoulder, hard. "Stop being a jackass!"

Yuki sat up surprised at the boy's sudden vehemence; Tadayo went on, fast, eyes blazing. "If someone that wonderful loved me I would never treat him like this, not ever. But you--you--"

"--are being a jackass," put in Hiroshi calmly, not looking up from "Five Styles of the Gedan Stance".

Yuki found his sandals in the neat rows by the door and stepped out beside Jin, blinking in the bright sun. It was warm for September, a gentle, glowing fall day. They walked awhile in silence as the raked stone path turned to earth and fallen leaves, leading from the dojo grounds to the peach groves.

"--Was I supposed to let you win? Is that it?"

"Of course not." He tried to keep the edge out of his voice. "If I can't beat you fairly, then I can't."

"Then why are you so angry at me? Snowflake, please--"

The words ripped out of him, sharply, hurt. "Are you the Master's or mine?"

"Both. Ever, and always, both. You can't be rivals for me." Jin stopped, took Yuki's hands, grey eyes anxiously searching into brown ones. "Isn't that enough?"

Yuki looked away. "You humiliated me to impress him. To prove he means more to you than I do."

"And then I kissed you right under his nose, what did that prove? Yuki…" Deep sigh. They walked on, golden leaves scuffed aside from their sandaled toes, patience and pain struggling for balance in Jin's quiet voice. "We were equally armed and I've been training you for months. You had a better chance of matching me than anyone. Have you not been watching me as closely as I do you?" Little trace of a smile. "I thought you never took your eyes off me."

He was right, of course…of course, he was. Conceding a partial victory…

And his voice was melting Yuki's heart. How hard this must be for him, trying to be everything to everyone: teacher and student, son and brother, youkai and human, all at once; and the Master counting on him so.

A kitsune who loves you will protect you, and defend you, and give you everything he can find in his heart to give anyone…but betray him, lie to him, break faith with him in any way, and he will forget. He'll forget. And terrible things happen then.

He couldn't bear it; his anger simply crumbled. He'd missed him so terribly. He threw himself into Jin's arms and hugged him as though he were returning from battle, was enfolded and held in turn.

"You'll need to be strong for me, Snowflake," softly into his hair. "As strong as you can. Everyone needs me, but I need you."

And no hesitation now. "I'm yours."

But still the least little shiver as Jin kissed him, and only half from desire. The icy brilliance of those eyes…


The document withdrawn from the locked box, once more, with its red tassels and sealing wax: the deed to the Mujuu. It had greater meaning than ever before, now. Along with the Sekiun Scroll and the Golden Scroll, it was the inheritance of the one to come after Mariya Enshirou, the fourth master of the Mujushin kenjutsu. The deed gave him the material Mujuu, its property and grounds; the scrolls gave him the masters' secrets, the wisdom never taught to students, passed from one hachidan sensei to the next alone.

He contemplated them in silence. He had already planned to give them to Jin on his eighteenth birthday, an unbreakable promise that the Mujuu would be his when Mariya at last retired his sword. Now that decision was something much more. If they could not save the school by simple means, they might yet do so by skill and guile. If Jin became Mariya's legal heir, and the Mujuu Jin's property, before the Shogun's request became a demand, then Kariya Kagetoki might do as he liked with Mariya; the dojo would be beyond his grasp. Even if my weakness is too great, or the cost of my crimes against you too much, dear son, this may yet be a victory…

He held the sealed document tightly in his hands. Merciful Ones give you the strength to save the Mujuu, my Izumiyori. From the Shogun, and the future, and even from me.


"The deeper meaning beneath the superficial is a recurrent theme in traditional Japanese culture. In the art of garden design, it is actually given a name, hiegakure, which means 'that hidden from ordinary sight.'" (I couldn't resist having Kariya call his new fusion of Chinese martial arts and shimpo kenjutsu by a formal gardening term...)