Samurai Warriors Fan-Fiction
Chapter 4

Abandoned Encampment

Previously:

Nobunaga destroyed both the Azai and the Asakura at Odani Castle. In addition he went on to defeat the Takeda at Nagashino, further increasing the territory beneath his control. However, a strong resentment was growing throughout the land towards his swift expansion. Nobunaga wished to strike fear in those who would oppose him. He decided to obliterate the Saika, a group of mercenary riflemen who frequently lent their strength to his enemies.
Mitsuhide felt it dishonorable to attack such a simple band of rogues, but he set out to battle with hope that victory would bring much-needed peace. But instead, he was met with a horrible truth.

Introduction:

The voice of Magoichi Saika was still ringing in Mitsuhide's ears, even though the battle had been won a few days prior: "You'll never have my forgiveness. Not after what you've done."
When this voice came to haunt him, Mitsuhide would cradle his head in his hands, countering with words of his own: "Nor do I ask for it. I act only as my Lord bids of me, for the best interest of our land." Anymore he did not know why he felt the need to defend himself. While he had long left the remains of the Saika encampment, still the scent of burnt flesh and dried blood followed him. He was a murderer…and no matter how many times he claimed to have only been doing his Lord's bidding, that alone would never bring those innocent people back to life.

Secretly, while he knew he did not deserve such forgiveness, perhaps the voice still haunted him because he wanted it so badly. The regret that filled his heart weighed him down like a balloon full of lead. The sword at his waist which was once so feather light in his grasp, now felt as though he were trying to drag a building by a rope tied around his belt. How long could he take this torture? What was more than the voice of Magoichi following him was the memory of what had happened after the battle. The Oda, a grin wide across his face had said: "The battle has ended. All the anger, hatred, and sadness…it has all been purged away."

Stopping on the trail back to where Hideyoshi and his men had left for the last battle, finally Mitsuhide fell to his knees. His fist slammed hard into the ground as tears welled up in his eyes. How could he say such a thing?! The slates had only been wiped clean because death had been the banisher of such emotions. Death had rid innocent people…women, children…it had rid them of their ability to feel altogether! Now, it felt as if he had taken on those wandering feeling which had lost their host, and they burned inside of him like a forge-where was his relief then? Nobunaga had claimed that he had defeated war itself with this battle, making the people too afraid to even oppose him…was this really what peace meant?

The Oda…his smile, his laughter…the glow in his eyes as he charged in with his blade swinging wildly…even now Mitsuhide would bet that the same bellowing chuckle that escaped his Lord was still rippling across that sea of scorched bodies. His stomach lurched. Truly…it had been the laugh of a Demon and a mad-man.

Chapter 4: Just this one moment

The camp that has been situated outside of Odani Castle was a good few days ride from where the Saika had once been. Three days ride and yet, Mitsuhide was taking it on foot. Granted, the ground was still pat down where horses by the thousands had galloped across it. The trek was foolish as he could have easily died of dehydration, of hunger...and yet, as he finally saw the banners flying from the small medical camp, his heart seemed to leap in his chest. The grass here was green still, the air was fresh, and the morning was damp with the rains that had come just the night before accompanied by a gentle breeze. It was the first time in days that he had not smelt the decay from the broken village. "I'm back...heh. I made it back!"

Mitsunari Ishida had just finished a cup of herbal tea, setting the glass down and grunting as he noticed a small chip in the side of the fine porcelain. His wounds had healed for the most part, but the skin was still tender around the different scars, and were at risk of breaking open again if he did not take it easy. The doctor had long since run out of supplies and thus had rode off to another town in order to get more. Still, Mitsunari reveled in the peace and quiet...he did not often have moments like these since Hideyoshi had thrown the both of them into war.

Speaking of the war...Mitsunari had not heard back from the others that had ridden off without him. Surely a messenger would have stopped by to let him know where the next attack was to be held? The next movement? The whole thing seemed strange, and yet, Mitsunari was a patient man and thus he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the wind rippling across his tent.

'Hideyoshi...are you bringing us a swift victory? Are you still laughing just like you were the other day when we took Odani Castle? Mitsuhide...Mitsuhide how are you doing without me? Heh. Do you even notice that I am gone?'

Then suddenly, in the midst of the silence, that was when he heard it...

The shuffling of footsteps drug Mitsunari out of his trance and he could hear the faint sound of laughter from the outside. A messenger? Bandits? Either way, Mitsunari stood up from his table, tightening his belt and grabbing his fan. He knew he was supposed to be resting, but, he wasn't about to shy away from a possible challenge.

Slapping away the flaps of his tent with his fan outstretched, Mitsunari breathed in deeply the cool morning air, his fiery hair waving behind him due to breeze. The air felt heavy in his lungs, weighed down with the dew that still lingered and had not yet found a place on the ground, but he enjoyed it. Looking out into the distance, there was still a bit of rolling fog across the grass. But, he could see a man there. Not on horseback, but walking...limping almost.

As the figure drew closer, Mitsunari started making out specific details. The man was slightly hunched over, he looked pale, and weak. Armor cracked, legs almost dragging along, his laugh was almost mad, black hair falling down across his back...and that blade...

"MITSUHIDE!"

Fast as he was, Mitsunari could not close the distance in enough time to catch Mitsuhide as he crashed to the ground. His body seemed to crumple, sinking down into the mud, his breath shallow and sweat poured down from his brow. Mitsunari stopped at the side of his ally, fearing the worse. How could he not? Mitsuhide was the Oda's right hand...and if Mitsuhide had come back on his own, without a horse to ride on...what had happened to the Army? Try as he might to stir the warrior, Mitsuhide would not respond and did not open his eyes. Panicked, Mitsunari even gave him a few firm slaps across the cheek, hoping for some sort of reaction, but Mitsuhide was still as ever and did not even flinch. For a moment, Mitsunari choked up, tears coming to his eyes...this was not the reunion he had imagined. Still troubled as to what this might mean, Mitsunari scooped the sickly man into his arms. He could feel the closed wounds on his chest and abdomen begin to tighten at the effort it took to lift the poor soul and Mitsunari grunted. Still, trying to take it as slowly as he could, he started a careful stride, carrying Mitsuhide back to his tent

The tent was rather large and ornate as it had once housed the Oda. Mitsunari had moved into it after coming out of his own fever and had enjoyed how luxurious it was up until this point. Footmen were given large tents where several of them could sleep on cots aligned in rows, the officers were given their own tent which normally fit their needs with a cot and table for planning, and then the Lords were given the larger tents complete with tables to invite guests, a full bed, and a small private bath to keep themselves clean and free of infection and disease.

The Oda's tent was dark in color, the entrance had golden thread set in an ornate display which was often the Oda's style. It was decorative, but ominous, coated in feathers, horns, and other such things which made it stand out from the rest. This was where a man of power slept, and right now, it was the only tent left in the abandoned encampment, and Mitsunari was glad that Lord Oda had left it behind. Looking at the man in his arms, Mitsuhide was filthy. Not only had he fallen in the mud, but, was that soot that covered him? Was there a fire?
Mitsunari could make out the smell of ash, death, and sweat. It stung in his nostrils, but he knew that it could not be helped...this was the smell of war, and death was inevitable. The days had been long and hot as of late, and the rains that had come the night before had been a blessing.

Setting Mitsuhide down, propped against one of the support poles in the corner, Mitsunari went about gathering what little supplies the doctor had left him. He had a small bit of ointment which was used to close his wounds and make the scars firmer so they did not break. Then there were the bandages that he was supposed to be using and changing per day. These supplies and a few others (tea to break fever and more ointments) were meant to last Mitsunari for over a month, but now, with the current situation at hand, he was willing to sacrifice them all to someone who needed them just a bit more.

Grabbing a bucket from outside, Mitsunari made the small journey to a creek that ran mostly clear just behind the abandoned encampment. Grass flattened underneath his sandals, and the moisture collected between his toes. It was uncomfortable, but, he did not seem to mind. His thoughts were racing elsewhere. What had happened? He knew he would get his answers as soon as Mitsuhide opened his eyes, but, from what he had seen, the man was in bad shape. How long would he be out? Would the meager supplies be enough to keep fever from him? Mitsunari cursed himself, gritting his teeth as he bent down to scoop up some water from the creek. "I should have been there..." he choked, his throat feeling tight as a sense of guilt gripped him, "I could have helped. Maybe I could have prevented whatever caused...this!"
With the bucket filled and set at his side, the hunched over Mitsunari slammed his fist into the ground which was so soft that it formed around his knuckles,"DAMMIT!"

Still, he knew this was no time to be blaming himself. Mitsuhide needed his help. In a sense he almost wanted to chuckle at this fact as it seemed the two men were just exchanging the baton over and over again. Where one would fall, the other was there to catch him and so-on. The thought amused him and made him slightly happy to think that maybe all this might be fate? Still, his main focus was drawing water for a bath. If Mitsuhide was to be treated, first he had to be cleaned.

The baths were not so large. It was a small tin tub that two men might be able to fit in if they pressed themselves together. Still, with the bucket that he had, it took at least twelve journeys to to and from the creek just to get a decent amount of water collected. Staring down now at the helpless Mitsuhide, Mitsunari Ishida stood frozen. Why was he so...scared?

"I'm just giving him a bath..." he reminded himself aloud, hand still outstretched as he tried to make himself start removing the ties which held on Mitsuhide's armor. "It's a normal thing...he needs to be clean or else I cannot treat his wounds!"
For a minute, the flustered man was tempted to toss Mitsuhide into the tub, armor and all, but he shook his head. How pathetic he must look! Gathering up his wits and courage, Mitsunari finally snapped out of his strange state of embarrassment and started working on the ties which held on Mitsuhide's pauldrons. "To think you would need my help again...Mitsuhide." Mitsunari sighed as the pauldrons came free, revealing Mitsuhide's strong, pale shoulders,"I should have known this would happen. Why did you leave me behind?"

His eyes had glazed over, only half open as he stared down at the smooth skin on the shoulders. Protected by the pauldron, the skin was sleek, clean, and without scars. Truly beautiful, almost like that of a fair maiden. Without even meaning to and unconscious of his actions, Mitsunari lowered his lips, and kissed the uncovered area, taking in how soft the skin was, almost being able to taste the perfection on his lips, and his face grew hot. Now his hands were more confident, more sure...

The next were the ties which held on his chest armor, the carapace which was cracked and chipped in several areas. Mitsunari thought that he saw bullet grazed for a quick moment, but as of right now, his attention was elsewhere. Removing the carapace, Mitsuhide had been wearing a silk shirt underneath. It was light, could breathe, and it kept the armor from rubbing and causing blisters on his skin. With the armor damaged, the shirt was rather ragged, torn in some places, and drenched in sweat. Mitsunari grinned to himself, ripping the shirt open without bothering with the buttons...just to look...just wanting to see what was underneath.

Many times he had seen the warrior as they sparred together before a long battle. Many times he had seen this man wrapped in only a towel as he went off to the baths, but never has he seen him this close. Never had Mitsunari had the chance to glance over him in such...detail.

Mitsuhide's chest was slightly darker than his shoulders. Still pale as it was often being covered by the armor, his chest was not without marks. His chest was smooth but very toned. Muscles rippling beneath such tight skin. It almost looked as if this man had been chiseled out of marble, and Mitsunari could not help but run his fingers across the man's abdomen, every bump, every dip, that perfect V-shape leading down to his belt.
One hand slowly unwound the belt, the other hand trailed along Mitsuhide's pectorals. This was no time to be enjoying himself, but, Mitsunari could not help himself.

How long had he long to feel this body with his hands? To place his lips against this man? How many times had he dreamt of those eyes looking down at him, of this man taking him? His eyelids fluttered and the saliva was building in his mouth. Here he had the opportunity...at long last, he finally had the chance. The final knot to the belt came loose, and now at long last he could...

"No..."

Mitsunari let out a deep breath, his hands in the process of tearing away the last bit of clothing Mitsuhide had been wearing on his long journey. It was if the haze had left him, his eyes had their normal glow, and he used one hand to wipe his mouth and then his brow which was covered in a nervous sweat. "I want this..." he sighed, his eyes almost sad as he placed his hand where Mitsuhide's heart beat slowly against his palm,"I want this. But I want you to want this too...to want me."

Closing his eyes, Mitsunari secretly cursed himself for being such a gentleman as he lifted Mitsuhide, propping the man against him, and finally threw the pants into a nearby basket. Carrying the naked Mitsuhide to the tub, Mitsunari slowly lowered the warrior, propping his back against the tin. He knew the water was slightly colder than normal, but, perhaps it might make the fever die down just a little bit. He cursed himself for not having any medical knowledge whatsoever, and he hoped that he wasn't doing anything that might bring more harm than good.

Over the next thirty minutes, Mitsunari took to cleaning Mitsuhide the best he could. Several times he had to run back to the creek after draining out the old water in order to add some more that was fresh. Mitsuhide was filthy...the water darkening with soot, mud, and all manner of things including dried blood. The floor of the tent was soaked and was becoming rather slick. The dirt turning to mud which soaked into Mitsunari's clothes, and he cursed as it would just be more for him to wash.
Still, he kept his focus as he continued to scrub away the filth with a sponge, hoping he would not fall into such a hungry trance again. The morning was still young as at last Mitsunari had finished and was lifting Mitsuhide from the remaining bath water. His wounds were minor, but the ones he did have had grown slightly infected during his long journey.

Drying him as best he could, Mitsunari tried to find some suitable clothes, but alas, he was empty-handed. His own clothes were rather old as he had not had the motivation to dry them, and now, his only pair of pants were dirty as well. Sitting Mitsuhide against a bed frame, Mitsunari applied the different ointments to the areas of the chest and sides where Mitsuhide had been injured. His thighs were treated as well from the rash that had been caused from the long rides on horseback and where other things may have rubbed as well. These areas were then bandaged so that no more bacteria could access them. Laying the bare Mitsuhide on the bed, Mitsunari placed a large blanket over him so that he might not catch cold since there were parts of him that were still wet.

Mitsunari stared down at his handiwork, but still, he wondered if it would be enough. Another trip to the creek and Mitsunari produced a cold rag in which to place on Mitsuhide's forehead. Hopefully this would keep the fever under control. But now, there was a matter of the clothes.

Clothes could not be washed directly in the creek because that was also the source of the drinking water for the camp, so again, Mitsunari was forced to use the tub. The armor could not be submerged in the water for fear of rusting, so it had to be washed by hand. All of Mitsuhide's gear was in rather bad shape, and now Mitsunari took time to note the bullet grazes and other such things. Whoever they had been fighting, the enemy obviously had Saika on their side. It wasn't uncommon as the Saika often worked for anyone that could produce a bit of coin, and several Lords had extended their hands out to the Saika so that they might win by number and rule over Japan. Still, Mitsunari had no bad feeling towards the people themselves as they were only trying to survive like everyone else.

For the armor it was just a mere bit of shining and then it could be set outside to dry, but the clothes were a different matter. Again the water became so murky so fast that it took multiple trips back and forth to keep the water fresh. While the water bubbled with soap, still the tent had begun to smell a tad bit fowl with all the things that had been dumped outside. Either way, the clothes came close enough to being clean, and Mitsunari was in the process of hanging them up on a pole when he heard mumblings from inside the tent. Was Mitsuhide actually awake?

Running past the flaps, Mitsunari leapt to the bedside to find that Mitsuhide seemed stuck in some nightmare. "I tried to save them..." he whimpered as his head thrashed about. The cold cloth had long since fallen to the floor with all the movement, and his breath was faster now, more full, but panicked. "It wasn't my fault! I'm sorry! I was only..."

Mitsunari listened to these words and could not make heads or tails of them. He had tried to save who? The Lords? The Oda's men? This wasn't making any sense! Again, fear gripped Mitsunari that the worst had happened on the battlefield and that the Oda's army had been completely wiped out with Mitsuhide being the sole survivor. If this was the case...where did they go from here?

Picking up the cold cloth from the ground, Mitsunari washed it off, soaked it once more in the frigid water and tried to still Mitsuhide's thrashing as he applied it on the fevered area again. The cold water seemed to help soothe Mitsuhide as his murmurs became more faint, and he slipped into sleep once more. Afternoon was coming on, and all there was to do at this point was to wait.

There was nothing to do at the encampment except keeping an eye out on Mitsuhide, but eventually, Mitsunari felt himself nodding off. He had long since pulled the cot from his own tent and laid it on the floor so that he might also be able to relax. His scars were itching from all the lifting, and, with the doctor away, he did not want to risk the tear. Still, he found sleep easily as the day wore on, and finally, when sunset was at its very beginning and the world was dyed orange, he heard Mitsuhide start to thrash again, and he opened his eyes only to notice that the man was sitting up and looking right at him.

"Mitsuhide! You're awake!"

"Mitsunari? Where..." and Mitsuhide looked around at the tent. His eyes flashed open for a moment and panicked seemed to seize the man as he cried,"Where are we?! Tell me now!"

"The old encampment...outside of Odani Castle? You walked here, remember?" Mitsunari muttered, concerned at the reaction he had received. "The doctor is off to get more supplies. I was the only one here when you showed up. You collapsed on me. I...uh...I cleaned you up and dressed your wounds. You've been sleeping for over half a day. I'm surprised to see you so...alive?" the last part came out more confused than what Mitsunari would have liked, but he could not hide his surprise. Mitsuhide had seemed so sickly before, but, surely the man was much stronger than he had originally given credit to. "How are you feeling, Mitsuhide?"

Mitsuhide rubbed his temples, his eyes closing for a moment as he took in a deep breath, "I'm...relieved." he admitted,"I am feeling much better now. Thank you, Mitsunari. I really mean it. Thank you."

This gesture of thanks brought a rose colored hue to the bridge of Mitsunari's nose. He smiled as he whispered,"What else was I supposed to do? You would have done the same for me. I mean, you're the one who asked that I be left here with a doctor."

"You heard that?" Mitsuhide asked, his face quickly turning red with shame and embarrassment.

"I did." Mitsunari admitted with a nod of his head,"But I understand. The Oda had a plan and a strict window in which to execute it. Staying here while I healed would have only hurt our operation, and I'm no use to an army if I cannot fight. Though..." he turned his head away,"Seeing you lying there in the mud...I don't know what happened...but I should have been there to help you."
Now he looked back to Mitsuhide, his voice was more harsh, more stern than it had been a moment earlier,"Mitsuhide...what happened?"

Mitsuhide opened his mouth to answer but no words would come out. His gaze trailed away from the fiery-haired man in front of him as finally he whispered,"Why do we fight, Mitsunari?"

"We all have our own personal reasons." Mitsunari admitted,"Some are more selfish than others but, we all have at least one thing in common and that is that we are fighting to bring peace to Japan. To unite under one ruler that will make the people happy, make them feel safe. Make this land a great place to live, get married in, start a family...among other things."

"Right..." Mitsuhide whispered as he clenched his teeth but for a moment, and, as he furrowed his brows he said: "But what if such a peace does not exist?"

"What are you...?"

"What if we unite under someone who only makes the people afraid, who rids them of the only thing they ever truly wanted? What if we are not free in the end, but slaves?" Mitsuhide cried and his shoulders began to twitch in what could only be described as anger.

"...then we fight." Mitsunari murmured as he walked over to Mitsuhide, placing a hand on his shoulder, the same shoulder that he had kissed not so long ago. "We fight until that day comes when we have united under such a Lord that will make this place great. We fight until the people are safe and happy. We will never give up hope that such a peace exists..." and Mitsunari smiles,"...you are not supposed to give up on your dreams? Am I right?" and a small chuckle even escaped his lips.

As Mitsuhide looked up at him, Mitsunari could see that tears were forming in the warriors eyes. He was confused. Were these tears of sadness? Of joy? Could what he had said been a bad thing? The wrong thing to say? As Mitsunari tried to search for the words that might remedy this situation, Mitsuhide touched the hand that was placed on his shoulder and he whispered,"I needed those words...I needed them so long ago. I needed your calm demeanor. I needed your reason. I needed you..." and the words became harder to understand as tears started to flow freely from the warriors eyes: "I should have never left you here!"

Mitsunari wanted to wipe the tears away. The one hand was behind held down against the man's shoulder, and while the other one was free, he lifted it to wipe but a single tear from the warrior's face, but he was stopped. He was stopped by Mitsuhide's other hand which grasped his wrist and pulled him forward. It took all the strength in him to keep from toppling over on the bed, but, as he lurched forward, his lips caught something...so soft against him, with a taste that reminded him of the fresh and brisk morning he had experienced before, a taste that was similar to the way a new flower blooms in the first days of spring. That spark that lit inside him as Mitsuhide's lips were pressed against his, and he found that the man had a mouth that was the softest shade of pink. So delicate, so...perfect; lips like flower petals, like cherry blossoms.

Whereas he had half expected the kiss to be a mistake, to be an issue of him being caught off-balance, Mitsuhide held his position firm. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, and Mitsunari only followed suit. Then man lay there in the bed, Mitsuhide sitting under the covers and Mitsunari leaning into the mattress with one knee, their kiss growing more heated as Mitsunari gave into that self again, that glaze crossing over his eyes, and the animal was beginning to return to him. He wanted to ask what had caused this turn of events. He still did not know what was happening...with Mitsuhide or the army for that matter.

Finally their lips parted as Mitsuhide took a moment to breathe. His face was flushed and his eyes were also half-open. He looked as though he shared a simalr hunger, and he paused to run his tongue over his lower lip. "I...I will tell you everything." Mitsuhide whispered.

It was like his whole character had changed. From the man of steel emotions to this person who stood before him now. This frail and sickly man held a heavy heart over events unknown to Mitsunari, and little as words meant to him right now, Mitsunari knew that he eventually would need to know what had happened to the rest...that somewhere he truly did care what was going on with the army on the outside...something that Mitsuhide was avoiding.

"I will tell you everything..." Mitsuhide repeated, "But...there's something I must ask of you first. Do this for me...and I will answer all your questions."

"Whatever you want from me...Mitsuhide."

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Notes:
Sorry that this Chapter was so short. It actually took a lot longer than expected because I had to re-read over everything I had written in the past and then my computer decided to get a virus and wiped out everything I had written beforehand. Sooooo...with that being said, this chapter took a very different turn as it was originally supposed to be the "Incident at Honnoji" part. I was going to forget about Mitsunari and just finish the Mitsuhide storyline, but I thought that maybe the followers might want to see one last interaction between the two before that happens.

Next chapter will be a big one as we will finish up at the encampment and then move onto Honnoji (at least that's what I want to happen). I know this chapter was lacking in detail compared to others because it was mostly focused in the dialogue and trying to get back into the 'feel' which is Mitsunari...but hey, it's been 5 years. Cut me some slack!

Either way, if you have been following this series, please send me a PM and met me know what you thought of this chapter. Tell me what things I could have improved and etc etc. Maybe compare it to older writings and let me know what styles or what things you liked the best and least. These things will help me out a lot. ALSO, I want the followers to decide WHAT FAVOR Mitsuhide is to ask of Mitsunari. That's right...I want YOU to basically decide what happens next! It's sort of my way of thanking you for sticking by me and following this story, and giving me all those wonderful views and reviews. please keep them coming.

That's all I have for now, so, until the next one!

-Mia