Toki wo Koete no Kizuna
AN Note- Azure: Hey guys! I was rereading my fics to get back into the mood of writing, and noticed… I butchered Motochika's past. I said that his father married another woman before he was born.. then said he remarried again. That didn't make any sense at all, and sounded like there were 3 women involved, but no, I went back and fixed it as well as Motonari's little "I hit in the roof" hahaha! Oh spelling mistakes… if anyone else catches anything, please tell me so I can go back and fix them. All my stories are beta-less, sorry to say
Also, as a side note, did anyone notice where I blatantly (and shamelessly) stole Motochika's background from? :D Those who guesses right gets a cookie. (BTW, I just really noticed, but… Motochika/Motonari… what a combination of names! O_O)
Chapter 2- Emerald Land and Amethyst Sea
"There you are." The door that connected the roof where I sat and the school below swung open loudly. His strong force pushed the door hard enough to hit the wall, making a loud BANG. The door creaked back quietly from the impact, surrendering in a quiet swinging motion.
"I've been looking for you, you know." He stomped up towards me, arms crossed. He looked down at me, who sat in silence against the fence of the school roof. "What are you doing here?"
I hate him. Hate… The first emotion I had felt in so long. Unlike everyone else, whom I feel absolutely nothing for, I hate everything about him. His loud laugh, obnoxious smile, annoying voice, cocky face, bulky body and irritating soul is enough to make me sick.
His silver hair swayed gently in the wind, his sea blue eye reflected the bright sunlight under the dark shadow he casted over me. His figure is broad, the sleeves of the blazer he wore on his shoulders flapped, blown by the wind. Grinning from ear to ear, he waited for me to respond.
Tired, and not wanting to handle this big child, I stood up, supporting myself with the metal fence. I avoided his single gaze and looked out towards the school field, where the multiple clubs were scattered. The specks that represented bodies crawled around on the morning ground, minutes before the class bell sounded.
"Hey, Motonari!" He slid his hands to his waist, irritated at me.
It's too early in the morning to be in his presence. Evidently displeased, I turned to face him, a dark scowl plastered across my face. "What do you want?" I wanted him to go away. I had hid up here on the roof right after I reached the school to avoid being even near him.
"Hey, hey, calm down." He held out his hands, palms facing me. He backed up a few steps, cautious. He's much too expressive. Too loud. Too irritating.
"Class was about to start, but since no one saw you, Takamichi Motonari, the great class representative," My eyes sharpened at his mocking words, daring him to go further, "…they coaxed me to look for you." He finished quickly, grinning awkwardly.
Without answering him, I glided past him and towards the opened door. I have always been evident with my annoyance of him and told him time and again how much I have despised him. Yet he keeps getting closer. I don't understand him and I have felt no need to try. I have survived the past three years with that mind set and nothing has to change.
Fujioka Motochika. Since the beginning of my first year here at Basara Academy, we had already clashed heads. Following a misunderstanding that led to an all-out argument that involved the school, students, teachers and even the principal, we parted ways for a short time. When we moved into the dorms, I found the plate outside my dorm room had his name etched in above mine. Enraged, we consulted the teacher that manages the dorms. He waved us off and did not allow us to switch rooms without reason. We decided to settle the dispute diplomatically- when one of us is in the room the other will leave. We never talked whenever we're in the dorms, and when we did, Kurosaki Keiji and Nagakura Toshiie living in the room next to ours would barge in and separate us from killing each other.
Shortly after, he joined the male cheer squad and I joined the music club.
We both had the charisma and intelligence to rise up in ranks quickly. Before our first year ended, we were already chosen to be the leaders for the next year. He became the leader of the male cheer squad, organizing and directing the men using his charismatic words and passionate integrity. The men called him "Aniki", represented by his care given to them, inside and outside of club times. I became the shadow leader of the music club, monitoring and ordering the club's activities with an iron fist. Rising up in the ranks through social skills and my intelligent mind, I was able to raise the club to rival Fujioka Motochika's own cheer squad. The players gave their lives and souls to me in exchange for success and victory.
Our teams clashed battle after battle on the sport fields whenever the school's sport teams marched into war. His men cheered louder, my army played louder, not for the victory of our sport teams but to drown each other out. It became a meaningless competition between clubs.
In our second year, we were unluckily thrown into the same class. His charm quickly attracted people to his side, creating a circle of his own soldiers. I chose to succeed alone, manipulating the class under my control as the class representative. Every time we talked, it turns into an argument. Every time I saw him, my stomach churned. This sickening cycle continued into our third year, where we were faced off again in the same class. I never needed anyone and I could control anyone.
But I can never control him. Fujioka Motochika was nothing less than a free bird, flying wherever he wanted, in places I could never reach. He is the sea, and I, the land.
As I was about to descend the stairs, I turned to him, the permanent frown painted on my features. With his arms crossed, he stared back at me with his usual grin. The wind rustled his hair, revealing that white medical patch on his left eye. I never asked about it; I never felt the need to. It did not matter to me if my enemy was deaf or blind, an enemy is only there to be defeated.
"Class is going to start soon. You coming?" My tone was more commanding than questioning. I turned back to face the stairs and descended back into the school, leaving the bright and blinding sunlit roof.
"He's so not cute." I could hear Fujioka Motochika mumble as I glided down. I didn't respond, knowing that he was just trying to provoke the blazing anger within me. I merely retreated back to the classrooms in the third floor, ignoring him.
"REI!" My voiced bellowed, confident and strong. The class did as I commanded, bowing to the teacher before he left. In uniform motion, the class raised their heads and my rule ended there. Everyone dispersed, rushing to their own after class activities.
I closed my green notebook and packed it into my book bag before turning to the door. I didn't have club activities today, so I decided to head back to the dorms early so I can sleep before I have to see his stupid face.
Too late. Fujioka Motochika had been standing in front of the class doors, talking and laughing with Kurosaki Keiji, a student of a year younger than us. It must have been his agitating laugh, but I felt even more enraged than I had earlier this morning on the roof. Stomping up to the pair, I rudely pushed in-between the two and out the doors.
"Hey, What the- That isn't very nice, Motonari." Fujioka Motochika growled, grabbing onto my shoulder before I could leave.
"Who said you can call me by my first name?" I growled back, turning to face him with sharp, dagger-like eyes. His glare intensified, unlike his earlier reaction. Had he backed down, I would have left it at that. "What do you want, Fujioka Motochika? I am in a hurry."
He frowned, his grip on my shoulder tightened, but not enough to hurt. "Music club is cancelled today, so what are you so busy with? Why not stay a while and apologize?" Why is he so angry this time? I did not know, but it's not that I wanted to, either. I turned my glare to Kurosaki, who replied with a startled look.
"Calm down, you two! The whole class is scared already." Kurosaki Keiji exclaimed, grabbing Fujioka Motochika's hand and jerked it away from me.
"But, Keiji…" He looked over at the younger boy, his rough expressions fell, as if to apologize.
I turned to look into the classroom. The students held their breath, waiting for the thin ice to crack and break under the tense atmosphere. I turned away from them and left, not even giving a glance at Fujioka Motochika.
As I whisked down the hall, I could hear him calling after me, and the rush in his voice told me he was going to chase me if he had to. Keiji's voice followed, telling him to stop. Then their voices grew distant and faint, until I heard nothing but my own pounding footsteps.
I tore the door open, stomped in and slammed the door shut. I threw my book bag onto a nearby table, on top of the messy music sheets and sunk into the office chair in front of the computer screen. I rested my head back and closed my eyes, like I have always done after an argument with him. If I did not end up clashing with that airhead, I would have left the school grounds and retreated back into my room.
The music room is quiet. Clubs were cancelled so no one was around. The key for the room was kept only by me, so no one would be able to interrupt me if I stayed here. I liked the sound of silence; it allowed me to think and to plan. However, even the still silence cannot quell my blazing discomfort.
If it wasn't for Kurosaki Keiji, it would have exploded into another war. His interception was thoughtful, but not appreciated. I clicked my tongue in aggravation. I don't understand it perfectly well myself as to why I hate Fujioka Motochika either, but seeing him surrounded by people, laughing and enjoying his life creates such a dark hate within me.
I opened my eyes. The setting sun painted the room orange. The once white ceiling was cloaked in a warm orange light. The bland design of large squares seemed to trap the twilight in the room. I basked in the silence, hoping this would last an eternity.
It was 12 years ago when my parents died in a car accident. After the medics wrenched me from my mother's death grip, I was sent to the nearest hospital and into ER. I woke up three days after to find my only family dead and I was left alone in the world. When the police told me this, I did not cry nor did I respond. The doctors had thought I was in shock from the traumatic experience and my consciousness may be mentally locked.
As a matter of fact, I was conscious. I heard every word the police told me and understood my position. There was little I could do at the age of 4, so I did nothing. I just nodded as I was transferred from relative to relative and ignored the insults I was given for being emotionless during my family's funeral. Close relatives became distant and distant relatives became nothing more than strangers. After countless transfers, I was invited to Basara Gakuen, where I decided to stay in the dormitories. I could finally be alone. Nothing could hurt me, nothing could stir emotions in me. I was simply void of irrational feelings.
Yet…
I could hear the door slide open. I must have forgotten to lock it after I stomped into the room. I did not open my eyes and I did not turn to see the stranger that had entered into my domain and stepped into my personal space. If I was cold enough to him, he will leave.
But he never left. He exposed emotions in me that I thought I had lost. Anger and hate, I thought I was void of such irrational feelings. If I was, I could achieve anything and everything without emotional attachment. Emotional attachment only weakens the body.
"…How long do you plan on sleeping there?"
"Go away."
"I want to talk."
With a swift piercing sound, I launched a CD at his direction with killer precision. My eyes now open and body no longer relaxed, I stood up and turned to face him. In his hands he held the CD he caught before it struck him. He stared back at me with a solemn and neutral expression, unlike his usual giddy farce.
"What do you want?" My eyes sharpened and expression tightened. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
He walked up to me and tossed the CD onto the table, next to the computer. His face grew closer to mine until we were mere inches apart. I waited, unmoving.
"Why do you always act this way?" He questioned, his single blue eye glinted with anger.
I didn't know how to answer that question. I didn't know what to say or do, so I merely remained silent, replying his question with my usual glare. "You're always alone, but whenever I invited you to my side, you would not listen. You're like an independent lion that cannot be tamed."
"I'm not some pet." I spat, "I'm not like your other goons you surround yourself around."
His expressions tightened and his glare intensified at my words. With a strong push, he shoved me against the wall. My body hit the wall with a soft bump. The wall, basked in the orange light, felt cold against my back. Aggravated, I launched another CD at him, which he dodged easily with a sway of his head. He approached, casting a dark shadow over me, blocking out the twilight that had burst into the room. I gritted my teeth, barely able to keep the intense anger from erupting. My fists shook and heart pounded with irritation.
"Why do you hate me?" He whispered, his blue eye softened, and what I glimpsed was not anger, but pain. I was taken aback, my fists relaxed and face softened, my glare morphed into a confused stare. "Motonari."
"I hate you." I simply stated, reforming the usual scowl. "You have never felt loneliness, never felt pain. You have never been ostracized and removed from society." The words flowed out all too easily, but every syllable I spoke tore at my own heart. I could not understand this feeling, it hurt far worse than when he pushed me into the wall. Something in me told me to stop, telling myself that what I was saying was not true.
But I continued.
"You were born with the charisma that allowed you to rise." My voice grew louder and my body moved forward. Feeling overwhelmed, he stepped back. "You do not need to manipulate, to dance around the social links in this world to get to the top." Step. Step.
"You don't need to work to get your wish." Step. Step. "You have an easy life where everyone gave you what you wanted!" Step. Step. "What do you know about me?" Step.
He was sandwiched between the wall and me. My eyes filled with pent up anger and a hint of despair. He stared back, surprised and confused. Within that blue eye, the hint of pain grew larger, stronger.
But it matters to me not, whether my enemy is a cripple or a blind man.
After a short, still silence, he stood up straight and stared straight at me. The confusion in his eyes evaporated, leaving the pain even more evident. His emotions showed blatantly; his lips twisted into a frown and eyes screamed pain and disbelief. I clicked my tongue and looked away, irritated that I could not even look him in the eye after I said what I did. My mouth felt dry, and the atmosphere in the room suffocated me.
"What do I know about you?" He spoke, his voice also sounded unnaturally dry. I did not answer him. I continued to look away, towards the door. Our shadows casted by the twilight looked lonely and sad.
He began to walk towards the door, his back to me. I watched his back as he opened the door and slid out. Without turning to me, he simply stated, "You and I are the same."
The door slammed close and I stumbled back to my chair, collapsing onto it. A mixture of emotions I could not contain flooded out. Confusion, irritation, pain and fear broke out of me, flowing out. I closed my eyes and rested my head, no longer knowing what I should.
That night, I returned to the dorms especially late. Night had long since fallen and I sneaked into the dormitories and into our room. I creaked open the door to see no one inside. His room door above the stairs was closed. The silence usually felt welcoming, but it suffocated me with threat. As I took off my shoes, I noticed his shoes thrown catastrophically on the floor. Ignoring his mess, I made my way up the stairs to my room, passing by his on the way. A small anchor with the words "Motochika" lay silently on his door. I stared at the anchor for a short period, remembering what he had last said to me.
You and I are the same.
I never figured out the meaning behind his words, and I did not bother wondering about it. I simply escaping back into my room and closed the door.
The next day, we did not speak to each other. Like usual, I got up before he did, left before he woke and made my way to the music room to prepare for the club activities later that day. He arrived at school just in time for the bell, ran into class and made a scene with the teacher. These sequential events happen almost daily. After lunch I would go to the music club and he would head to cheer, then I would return to the dorms before him, then head to my room and come out the next morning.
But, something changed how today was supposed to pan out. After music club, I am always the last to leave. I would clean up the sheets and upload recordings for the day into the computer before locking the doors and leaving. As I was sitting in my chair, organizing music files, the door slid open unexpectedly.
Looking over, I had expected to see one of the students had forgotten a bag or book. However, there stood Kurosaki Keiji, peeking into the room at me with a foolish grin. I removed the headphones from my head and turned my chair to face him. "What do you want?"
Keiji marched into the room and looked around, awed at the various sparkling instruments and orderly music sheets. "Wow, this room is really nice. I've never been into the music club room before."
"If you're here to tour, then get out." I turned back to the computer, deciding that whatever he will say to me is unimportant. "I have work to do."
"Mouri Motonari."
Like a puppet, my head jerked towards him, and I could feel myself break out in cold sweat and my heart raced at the familiar name. I felt that something was approaching… but I couldn't remember what. I twisted the chair to face him and crossed my legs, as if asking him to continue. Something in my brain egged me to listen, as if he could tell me something important I had forgotten long ago.
Keiji sat on the table and looked out the window. He crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees. "Mouri Motonari and Chousokabe Motochika were eternal rivals, constantly fighting over territory. Mouri Motonari was a genius, a master tactician and Chousokabe Motochika fought back with charismatic fleets that resisted Mouri Motonari's army." I watched Keiji's back as he explained, staring at the sunset.
"Chousokabe Motochika held onto Shikoku and protected it until Toyotomi Hideyoshi invaded and ordered Chousokabe Motochika's surrender. Mouri Motonari protected and watched over the Aki province. Since the two settled in lands between the Seto Inland Sea, their battleground was over water." I finished for Keiji, crossing my arms. "If you're here to find a history buddy, I suggest you go elsewhere."
Keiji tilted his head over to me, a knowing grin lit up his face. "Did you learn that in school, or did you remember it…?"
"What kind of question is that?" I spat, irritation stirring. "Hurry and get out. I need to finish this." I turned my chair back, to face the computer. I began clicking over the files and finish ordering our recordings.
Keiji hopped down from the table and walked over to the door, readying to leave. Good. I had to finish soon and get back before Fujioka Motochika does.
"Mouri Motonari and Chousokabe Motochika had very similar pasts. Perhaps that's why they grew to become such remarkable rivals." I continued to ignore him. "Sadly, neither Chousokabe nor Mouri knew about their close connection until they faced death."
Keiji, seeing how I continued to ignore him, gave a disappointed sigh. "Mouri, the past can stop repeating itself if the future changes."
I felt something stab at my heart as he said those words. Something felt strangely familiar as the image of a bloody battleground over water sparked in my brain. The waters, painted red by blood sloshed violently under our feet. A man stood over his worn ship, anchor in hand. Another kneed, bleeding, on the ship facing his. A circular blade sat, resting beside him within arm's reach.
"Keiji!" I shot up, my body jerked towards him as I felt that familiar hastened heartbeat and cold sweat. A nostalgic excitement began to unfold. However, the shadow that stood by the door was nowhere to be found. Keiji had left.
I gripped my throbbing head and collapsed back into my chair, feeling exhausted. My brow furrowed and eyes sharpened as I desperately tried to grasp at memories that I cannot reach. Who were they and what is this longing feeling in my heart?
Thanks to Kurosaki Keiji, I returned back to the dorms after the night had long fallen. Sneaking into the dorms, I silently slid into the second floor and into our room. Being this late, Fujioka Motochika would have likely gone to bed already. Without worry, I unlocked the door and slipped in.
As I closed the door, I heard a surprised "Ah." Looking over, I see Fujioka Motochika had just returned from his shower. The medical eye patch he had always worn was taken off. Surprised, I stared at him silently, aware that this has been first time I had seen his naked face.
"Welcome back." He simply stated as he looked around frantically. Glancing over, I saw the medical patch on the kitchen table. I pointed over as I took off my shoes. In a haste, he tried to run towards the kitchen but his legs tangled and he began to fall…
…On me. He crashed into me and I fell backwards, my back smashing into the door as we both collapsed onto the floor. I could feel the cold wood against my worn back. His wet hair was uncomfortably pressed against my chest and I could smell the fragrance of his shampoo emanating. Gritting my teeth, I rubbed the back of my head, the headache I had received from Keiji earlier strengthened multiple times. With an aggravated glare, I began to yell at the body that had fallen on mine. His body is bigger than mine, and likewise, heavier. I could feel myself being crushed beneath his strong limbs. "GET OFF ME!"
Laughing lightly, he began to pull himself off of me. He turned over and shifted his weight until he sat down beside me. He rubbed his forehead, grinning. "Sorry, sorry."
It was then that I saw it. As he rubbed his forehead, he had brushed his wet bangs out of his eyes. His left eye had a small but deep scar gashed across it. Jagged lines marked the erratic slash of a knife. My eyes widened, and mouth opened. I wanted to say something, to ask him what happened, but no words came out of my mouth. They concentrated in my throat, causing a lump of anxiety to form.
Seeing my rare expression, he just merely laughed harder. He dropped his hand and his bangs returned to hide his broken, disfigured eye. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"
"What…" the words came out hoarse. I shook my head and swallowed my doubt before I spoke again; the confident voice I had always heard when I yelled for the class to stand and to bow wavered pitifully. "What happened?"
He laughed heartily. I frowned at him, knowing fully well how serious this current situation is. "This is rich. I've never seen you so shaken up!" He proclaimed.
I reached over and gripped his arm. His arm is thick and the muscles were solid. My grip could do little to actually inflict pain even if I tried. I was able to pull him closer to me, his face reached inches away from mine. My brown eyes stared at his blue eye, determined. "Stop avoiding the question."
Fujioka Motochika's expression softened as a flood of sadness was released from the darkness within him I was unaware of. He sighed jokingly and flicked my hand away from his arm. Closing his eyes, he slowly began to explore his past.
"I was 4 when it happened. My present mother is not my birth mother, but someone my father married 2 years after I was born. My birth mother was beautiful and was remarked to be the jewel of the gods." We had moved from the ground to the kitchen table. The gold clock on the wall showed the time, 1:05. The ticking pierced the dark silence while Fujioka Motochika busied himself, making hot chocolate.
He placed my cup in front of me, the liquid warm and steaming. He sat in facing me and stared at his cup before continuing. "I was a beautiful baby, you know. If you can even use that to explain a boy." He laughed. I stared at him, seeing straight through the sweet barrier that's slowly cracking. "When I was a kid, everyone adored me. I looked like a beautiful girl." He laughed, proudly.
I stared, dumbfounded. Him? The bulky, rough and rude Fujioka Motochika, as an elegant, beautiful and sweet girl? I couldn't help but slap a hand over my face to stifle the laughter emerging.
"Hey!" He yelled, face bright red. "I don't share this with everyone, so stop laughing! It's not that funny!"
Through stifled laughter, I replied, "Yes… it is…"
"Whatever." He slumped back into his chair, frowning. He waited for me to reclaim my posture. I sat back up and shook off the rare smile before listening on to the rest of the story. "My mother died giving birth to me hence my father's new marriage. My father is always busy with work. He's a captain that drives cruise ships so I don't see him a lot."
That explained his obsession with fishes, anchors and water. I took a small sip of the hot chocolate. The hot liquid flooded my mouth, burning my tongue. The sweet, milky taste of chocolate submerged my taste buds.
"After losing my birth mother, he became drastically depressed. In response, he married my new mother and she slowly healed his wounds. But…"
"My mother never looked me in the eye. The crystal blue eyes I have apparently look the same as my birth mother's." He reached up, gently brushing the gashed scar on his left eye. "Even when my father was around, she never spent the time to talk to me or acknowledge my existence. As you can imagine, whenever my father left for his job, my mother would go berserk. She had hit me and thrown things at me, screaming at how demonic my eyes were. Whenever she saw my eyes, she saw the woman that my father still loves."
I glanced over to his crystal blue eye, casted down as he stared at the swirling hot chocolate in his cup. A sad, reminiscent smile morphed his usual grin. Honestly, I liked his eye. Every time he talked to me, I would stare at his eye. I could always lose myself in those deep blue pupils.
"After my father got a special job, he told me he couldn't be there for my four year old birthday. He told me to get along with my mother and just left. He didn't notice the scars that newly developed every time he returned, so he didn't know what my mother was doing to me. But I wasn't scared. I could not dilute my mother's sadness or repent for killing my birth mother, so the least I could do was silence myself."
I opened my mouth, but after a second of thinking, I closed it again. I wanted to tell him he is stupid, that his brain contrasted his broad and eccentric personality.
"On the night of my fourth birthday, my mother attacked me. It was the day my birth mother had me, which reminded my mother of nothing but pain. She took a kitchen knife and stabbed my eye."
It doesn't sound very real when he says it in such a calm voice. I watched as he gripped his eye, his expression twisted by the painful memories. His other hand rested on the table, tightly bound in a fist, his knuckles turning white.
I finished my hot chocolate and placed it on the table. The soft sound of glass against glass woke Fujioka Motochika from his dark past. He regained his composure and dropped his hand to the table. Laughing sheepishly, he sat back on his chair, tilting his head up. "Man, why did I just spill everything out like that?"
I got up, picked up my cup and placed it in the kitchen sink. Now I understood why he said what he did. We were not so different. He wasn't the golden child I had thought he was born to be. With my back to him, I offered what I could at that point. "You are a tough, charismatic idiot who doesn't like to think about the complicated things in life."
I could feel him turning to look at me. I could not even imagine his expression at this point. Perhaps he's wearing his mocking grin or silent frown, or maybe even a grateful expression I have never seen before. But, by the time I turned around to face him, his eyes had widened and mouth opened ever so slightly. "So leave the complicated things to me and just keep firing your stupid cannons."
I don't know where that metaphor came from or if he even understood me. Lately I have been acting and speaking without much thought, very unlike the calculated me I once was. A familiar feeling wrapped around me as an image of the two men who were fighting over the bloody sea sat beside one another, under the moonlit spring sky, enjoying a cup of clear sake.
We are not allying, merely working together to defeat the sixth demon king. However, on the battlefield, you will leave the complicated thinking to me and you just have to keep firing your stupid cannons .After this battle, we will tear the battlefield apart in heated war.
The warmth solidified as I felt strong, solid arms wrap around me. My eyes shot open, wide and confused. I could feel Motochika tightening his grip around my slender frame. My face flushed, the blood rushed to my cheeks unexpectedly. I squirmed in his grasp, wiggling to get free. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, IDIOT!"
Motochika merely laughed, his arms tightened. "I don't know." He replied, his voice no longer holding the same pain it had only mere moments ago. "I don't know, but I felt like I had always wanted to do this, Motonari. For many, many years…" He muttered.
I didn't know how to respond. My struggling arms relaxed as I responded with silence. I could feel him smile, his vise grip felt warm and comfortable. I closed my eyes and stood there, allowing him to hold onto me. Unfamiliar feelings surfaced as I felt a nostalgic pain on my chest.
Perhaps it was I, who wanted to hold onto him instead.
The next day, everything was just as it was the many mornings before. I woke up at the crack of dawn, brushed my teeth, took a shower, and proceeded to change and leave for school.
As I opened my room door and stepped out, I heard the door next to mine creak open. Looking over, I saw him stare back. With a flustered face, I quickly closed my door and brushed past him, staring at the floor. As I proceeded down the stairs, I heard his voice.
"Motonari." I turned around instinctively, glaring at him like I usually did. "Good morning." He smiled at me, his usual, charismatic grin. My eyes widened a little before I turned away again, afraid that he might see my slowly reddening face.
"Good… Morning…" I whispered back before I ran out the door of our dormitory.
I could hear Kurosaki Keiji's door open as either him or Nagakura Toshiie stepped out to watch Motochika lock the door to our duo room and leave, a few steps behind me. I heard Motochika's usual hearty laugh as I descended the stairs and ran out of the dorms.
Perhaps I was jealous of him. I was jealous because he didn't need to find anything to hold onto. He reminded me of a free bird, flying anywhere and everywhere that's out of my reach. I hated him because I couldn't be like him. I did not have his magnetic charm that attracted people to his side, and I did not have his ability to stand on his own. My jealousy had blinded me from seeing who he really was and how we were so similar.
He was right, we were the same. He took charge of his loneliness and changed it with his own hands while I dwelled in the darkness, evolving by myself. I did not need him, I did not need anyone. But I was wrong. I desperately reached out to him by calling him my rival and clashing with him time and again on the battlefield. What I failed to realize was when he reached out his hand to me. We both felt a bond that could not be explained, a shared loneliness we could not express openly.
I felt a heavy burden lift from my shoulders. A burden that had haunted me for many, many years evaporated within mere seconds when he wrapped his arms around me. A long struggle that lasted many centuries dissipated in an instant.
"HEEEEY! Wait up, Motonari!" Motochika ran up behind me, panting loudly. He keeled over, breathing hard. Raising his head to meet my eyes, he grinned. I saw, standing beside him, the silhouette of a gruff man with crossed arms. He stood proudly, hair flowing in the sea air. With a confident smile, he commanded his men who called him 'Brother'.
I frowned at him and turned away. With my hands by my sides, twisted into a fist, I started walking towards the school. "If you don't hurry, we will be late." I said, sternly.
Motochika suddenly stood up and jumped on me, almost pushing me over. His arm wrapped around my neck, nearly choking me. He laughed loudly, patting me in the back. I shook him off and sighed. I felt an alien feeling grow from inside me. In an awkward response, the corners of my mouth twitched upwards into a hidden smile.
The two of us began walking to school every morning together after.
Chapter 2- Emerald Land and Amethyst Sea END
Azure: Motochika and Motonari's story ends here. I want to write another side chapter dedicated to the emerald land and amethyst sea, but I haven't decided yet what I would write about. Most likely about how Motochika died in the Sengoku era (Since Motochika died before Motonari). While researching about the historical figures, there were no records of battle between the two. (Again? Why, Sengoku Basara?) Instead, I used the Sengoku Basara history to write their past lives. Because Motochika had conquered Shikoku and Motonari had the Aki province (if you look at this on the map) it was obvious why Sengoku Basara chose to have them to be rivals. And also why Sengoku Basara changed Motochika into a pirate. Since they were next to each other, divided by nothing but the Seto Inland Sea, it made for great rivalry! So battles on the ocean seemed likely.
The 'alliance' between the two was far from an actual alliance. It was when Maeda Keiji had convinced the two to fight alongside him, Shingen, Kenshin and Masamune's forces against Oda Nobunaga at the end of the first season in the anime. Just the image of the two sitting beside each other under the moonlight, drinking sake is far too appealing to give up!
Motochika's historical figure (I heard…) was a beautiful man, his appearance matched that of a princess. His gruff demeanor in Sengoku Basara contrasted so harshly, it was hard to combine the two. It was hilarious either way, though.
Next up, either a side story with jealous Sasuke, some real information on why Keiji knows everything, or should I head straight into Mitsunari and Ieyasu? I don't plan on continuing "Memories of Blazing Fire" just yet! Kufufu.