A/N: Thanks Maydn for pointing out my mistakes! XD Sorry for the long intro but this chp is a little different from the last. We leave the events in Kyoto and follow Takasugi's POV for a couple of chps. But we'll return to Kyoto and Katsura's POV for the finale.
Change in POV: Takasugi's 3rd Person POV.
Chp Title "Meeting 2" : It's got nothing to do with "Chp 1: Meeting" although the name is almost exactly the same. It just indicates that Taka & Zura's relationship is entering a new "cycle". They'll have another round of "Meeting 2/Fighting 2/Playing 2..." etc. XDXD But this time the boys are Thirteen Years Old, living in Edo in the throes of political upheaval after the arrival of the Amanto "Black Ships". Shouyou-sensei will be showing up later on; as well as the younger versions of the Kiheitai, including Kamotaro Itou (Oh Itou~)
Why the Blast from the Past? I wanted to see how how Taka & Zura's relationship will affect the people around them. But it can't happen in the space of one night in Kyoto, at least not without some flashback so I thought I'd haul the whole damn thing to the past, to the moment they were awakened to the troubles facing their country and decided to take active part in changing it.
AU Alert: The year is "1854".Bansai's past is all made up :P More historical facts from "http:// red-bird. org/ meiji/"
Warning: Violent Swordplay
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Bansai x Takasugi
DECAY HEAT CHAPTER 9: MEETING 2
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Flashback to 8 days ago, just before the "Benizakura Battle". At this point everyone thinks that Katsura is dead.
Just before dawn, a small cargo ship could be seen cruising eastward over the mountains of Kyoto toward Edo. It looked insignificant, like a tiny silver star about fade away like the rest of its companions. But in reality, this was a Kiheitai warship in camouflage, en route to a mission of awe and terror.
A lone figure stood at the prow, arms folded arrogantly, eyes staring up at the banner of red unfurling across the horizon. The sky was clear, cloudless indigo, while the land a dark misty brown, rendering the glowing vermillion aura even more vivid, even lurid. Any moment now, the rebel expected the first rays to emerge, shredding the darkness to bits.
The steady breeze ruffling Takasugi's jacket suddenly dropped to nothing. When it picked up again, it blew from the reverse, even though the ship was still moving forward. Every pore on Takasugi's skin stood on end, as if splashed by icy water. His clothes began to billow forwards, like sails filled by a warm, eerie wind carrying the scent of blood. It's you again. He didn't need to turn around to know who his visitors were. He was familiar with them, these goblins bubbling up from a lake of gore, testing his resolve at his weakest moments. Since he recognized them as none other than his closest friends while they were alive, he used to be confused, and let them torment him. But even masochism has its limits.
"Back so soon, my comrades?" Takasugi asked calmly, even maliciously considering that they were his former friends. "Or did you get lost on your way to the afterlife?"
The reply was the dirge of chains dragged across the floorboards. Hardened as he was, Takasugi had a phobia of chains, words can't describe the way his stomach fell at the sound. In an instant, his sword sprang out of its scabbard. Pulling his spirit together, he smirked. "Now that's convenient, because I'm headed the same way myself…" He directed the tip of his sword at the brightest spot in the glowing atmosphere, the blade blended with the background then re-emerged with a deeper brilliance, as if wet.
"See it?"
"That's the spot."
"Now go and die!" Takasugi turned and bounded into their midst, proving to them he was just as savage and demonic as they were, if not more so. In short order, he had slain several of them. Streaks of light were followed by slices of bone and flesh scattered across the deck. Guys who used to run and hide from him while alive might well reconsider doing so again now that they had turned into ghouls. Appeals were useless. The dead belonged to the dead. No one was going to hold him back, Amanto or Yamato, Bakufu or Joi, friend or foe.
All the charging and thrusting, whirling and striking was wearing him out. His strength beginning to fade, he beat a slow retreat, staying out of range while attempting to herd the jostling horde into a more advantageous position. Now it was their turn to pressure him relentlessly, empty orbs glowing with bloodlust.
Scanning the wall of attackers for an opening, Takasugi spied a young man was standing apart from the crowd, looking sorrowfully down the side of the ship into the depths. Long, wind-swept hair obscured his face, his katana was smeared with blood and pointed downwards. But because of his youth and class, his skin gleamed snowy-white and his physical attitude exceptionally refined.
Zura?! What's he doing here? This is the land of the dead. Zura, get away from here!
He froze in realization. Don't tell me he doesn't know how to get to the other side? Or is he like the others, just waiting to take me down? No, he won't do that to me, he won't! Besides I can't feel any evilness coming from him. So what is he doing here?!
From a distance the other man lifted his big brown eyes and looked directly at him.
What he saw in Zura's eyes put Takasugi in a panic. He lost control for the first time and lashed out blindly.
"Take that, you traitor!"
Making barely a whistle, his blade would glide through the air with amazing lightness, graze through the feathery strands of black hair, and bury its thirsty edge into his neck. Dark crimson blood would splash onto the floor and he would step on it, crush his disheveled kimono, and trample upon his long hair spread out like a cloud. He looks so serene, as if peacefully asleep, except for the fresh blood that continued to spill from his bluish-white lips like a large red peony…
Perhaps, fascinated by how it might taste like, he would fall on one knee, and with his right hand, grasp the luxuriant tresses, then bend his head towards his face….
Is this love? Or is this hate?
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"S-stop it!" Takasugi screamed mentally, right fist pummeling something warm and hard lying next to him. Even he wasn't so perverted! It was all Katsura's fault. Nizou did good to sever the useless object from its hairbrained owner.
"Shinsuke…what the fuck?" mumbled Bansai's sleepy voice. Ignoring the painful punch with a soft sigh, he wrapped his arms around his boss's feverish body.
Takasugi heard his question but deliberately remained silent, still held in thrall by his disturbing dream. No, to be honest it wasn't simply a dream, it was a downright sickening sadistic fantasy necrophilia scenario and he knew it. What the fuck is wrong with me?!?! He took advantage of his subordinate's closeness to bury his head into his chest, and while he was at it, to hook a slim white leg over his hips. Damn, Bansai automatically caught hold of it. Well nevermind, he was ok like that for the moment. He needed a good strong whiff of Bansai's scent to erase the sickly sweet smell of blood that enveloped his mind in a haze. Like a cat, Takasugi ran his tongue roughly over the musician's exposed chest, then rubbed his nose in it. Hmph. Over here, it smells like leather. There, where he spilled some cologne two days ago. And here…it smells like nothing. I mean, the original Bansai's smell.
"Shinsuke…?" Bansai flinched a little, startled by his leader's extra attention. His eyes, now fully awake, glittered with a light that was oddly attractive. Through long habit, Takasugi could sense, rather than see, the veins coursing beneath his smooth muscled skin begin to palpitate with a rising drumbeat. Caressing his shoulder, Bansai's fingers slipped down his forearm and covered his clenched fist. He twisted his wrist and toyed with his calloused fingers before allowing them to intertwine with his lover's, no, Part-time lover's hand. But when he looked up into Bansai's face, was forced to admit that there was nothing fake about the heat radiating from his palms to his, or from his eyes. His own pupils glittered fixedly in response and his chest began to heave more heavily now that his partner's familiar form overshadowed him…
One kiss, two torn yukatas and a futon pounded into little rolling humps of cotton served as a strange drug that made everything perfect again.
Only Bansai knows how he looks during those unguarded moments. But Takasugi doesn't make it easy on him. Once he's fallen back to earth, he slips away to have a smoke all by himself. Like now.
"Oh well…" Bansai's expression seemed to say as he pulled on his clothes, "I guess that's just the way that it is. Doesn't bother me." They had started this as a casual diversion, neither imagining it would last even a couple of sessions. Yet it's already been three years. "He's better as a leader than a lover," Bansai mused. "But I just can't forget about him even though I want to. He said I could leave anytime I wanted to, so it's only my own fault for sticking around if I'm not happy."
Being tall and well built, Bansai looked smart in pretty much anything he wore, in particular the black leather he favored. As he was about to leave, he went up to Shinsuke for his goodbye kiss. At first, it was just a courtesy on Bansai's part, but gradually, it became more important to him, times being what they were, who knew if this kiss would be their very last?
Takasugi was lounging against the porthole of his cabin, inspecting the awe-inspiring view of Edo from his perch 30,000 feet above ground level. Although it was well past midnight, the prominent flyovers were still coursing with traffic like slick, red and gold veins of a vast, hungry organism endlessly consuming and spewing out waste. Tomorrow they will attack the political heart of the system. Edo Castle, the seat of the Shogunate; The Imperial Palace ; The Shinsengumi Headquarters in suburbs of Mibu and more reluctantly, the headquarters of a minor Joi faction under the command of recently deceased Katsura Kotaro.
"Isn't that cruel? To attack your ex-comrades?" Bansai asked, knowing that the question would irk him, but then everything irked Shinsuke. Even the most sensitive person would be hard pressed to avoid anything that triggered his dark past, so Bansai had simply chosen to speak his mind at all times, to the extent of playing devil's advocate. Gradually though, perhaps out of trust, Takasugi found himself unable to get seriously mad at his subordinate no matter how frank he was.
"I would have left them alone, but they chose to fight against me, badly outnumbered as they are. I admire them though, on some level. Isn't it ironic how some men wouldn't betray their leader, even though their leader has betrayed the cause? That says something about the sort of person Katsura was. Fortunately for me, the Kiheitai isn't like this."
"I wonder…"
Bansai moved closer and caught Takasugi's lower lip. One arm crept to the small of his back while the other held his wrist. A moment later, there was a dull thud of pipe falling on the ground as Takasugi, forgetting appearances, wound one hand through Bansai's hair while the other gripped his collar for an unpredictably passionate kiss. Pressing his advantage, Bansai leaned forward until Takasugi's back arched and head craned as far back as it comfortably could. Takasugi began to squirm but Bansai took his time slowly licking Takasugi's upper lip, enjoying putting Takasugi in his place sometimes, to let him remember that he was only his follower out of his own free will, whether abilities, intelligence or family background, Bansai wasn't inferior to Takasugi in any way. And if he chose to follow him over the borderline between life and death, well, that would be his own decision wouldn't it?
"…Boss?" He whispered in to his mouth, it excited him to think he might be this devoted to someone, it was completely new and unusual for him, but he knew his feelings were real. He was only in the Kiheitai, even in Japan, for that matter, because of Shinsuke.
He could feel Takasugi's lean muscles chuckling underneath him. "Don't try to follow me, Bansai, or you might find yourself alone on the other side."
"If you're not there, where would you be?"
"When I'm here, I'm here, when I'm gone, I'm gone."
A vein popped in Bansai's forehead. Takasugi's words infuriated him. "If you're so carefree about dying, then why did you set up a shrine at the Khiheitai Camp?"
"That's to comfort the living, not the dead."
"And you call yourself a living person?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"When you're here, you're here?! No, you're not, you're never here!" Even Bansai was shocked by the vehemence of his outburst. Since when had he been feeling like this? Gotten frustrated at Shinsuke, demanded him to put more effort on his part, needed him to give him more than his body. "Are you really here? Then where were you when you were crying in your sleep? I try to get you away from the past but you seem to enjoy wallowing in it!"
Takasugi's furious glare was instinctual, his hatred total. Any other person would have been put in his place by a quick dance of the katana, much less preserved their bonds of friendship, but Takasugi was at the stage where he trusted Bansai fully, even secretly considered him his best friend. Tch. "Friends" indeed. They had gotten too close, become too alike. When he first met Bansai, he was simply a Trance-loving adrenaline addict, detached to the point of autism. That made him the perfect tool. But he's really grown up, hasn't he? Who's the immature one now?
"Takasugi." Bansai cradled his arms around Takasugi, so earnest Takasugi couldn't meet his eyes. "When will you tell me what happened to you during the Amanto War? Or about your family, or how you lost your eye? Why is that so much harder than getting you naked?"
Instead of replying, Takasugi stroked his fingers through Bansai's spiky hair. But his intention wasn't to soothe, it was to sting. He wound a strand around his forefinger and tightened, but not to the point of pain.
"You don't have long hair." He stated in low, repressed voice.
"No, I don't." Bansai raised an eyebrow, confused.
Takasugi's eye took on that deep, hypnotic glow that appeared when he was about to take him over the edge.
Bansai understood, and nodded. "Tell me."
"I once had a wish, I wanted to wake up every morning, with his long hair wrapped around my arm, around my wrist, around my fingers. Every part of our body touching and we'll never be separated. This is all I ever wanted and now I can't have it because Katsura is dead!"
Bansai was surprised. So surprised he didn't know how to respond. He didn't know what to think or how he felt. At this moment, his cell buzzed. A message from one of their allies under his command.
"It's Itou-sensei." A mocking smile played upon Bansai's lips and he shot a glance at Takasugi. "He's lonely."
"So you're going to comfort him now?"
Bansai observed Takasugi, but didn't see what he wanted to see. For once, he didn't look upon meeting Itou as a chore. He was happy to be with anyone, other than Takasugi right now.
"Yeah."
"Have fun..."
"I will." Bansai sighed, walking towards the door. One hand on the exit, he turned and said with a laugh. "Will you save a story for me when I get back, Shinsuke?" Takasugi's persistence was now ingrained into his personality or maybe he had always been like that, just didn't know it.
"I don't know." Takasugi immediately said, surprising himself. The answer was obviously "no", but he found himself unable to say "no" to Bansai on this issue. "I'm turning into a coward," he thought. "I'm afraid to lose."
"Bansai, Don't think of me like a normal person, or you'll just end up hurting your feelings."
A refusal. Well that was only to be expected.
"I don't think I can sleep with you anymore, I'm sorry."
"It's alright."
"Thanks for the memories."
Takasugi stared at him quizzically as if struggling with a new concept: that he was capable of forming new memories.
"A girl could never have turned my head the way you do. I don't know why, but I'm drawn to you, like a moth to a flame."
While descending down to the Edo metropolis, Bansai stared at the glittering silver specks in the night sky and their reflection on earth.
The cold wind carried away an uncharacteristically warm emotion.
"No regrets."
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Takasugi lit up his long-stemmed pipe again. White smoke wafted through the room, shimmering with flecks of purple and gold. Why can't I tell Bansai about my past? Surely there's no harm in it. He even asked about it, which shows he actually cares. And who the hell wants to know about my past anyways? Even I don't.
Stop it. Be fair, you know they care. As a leader of three hundred and fifty three strong Kiheitai forces, he had no right to indulge in such pathetic thoughts. Although he had created the group from a bunch of criminals and social sub-elites, only with the intention of using them to achieve his goal, with time, the members had gradually formed a sort of bond. When he was with them, he was happy, wasn't he? Happier than he had ever been since the Amanto War ended. In a twisted way, they were like family, weren't they? Closer than he had ever been to his real family. And at the bottom line, didn't he achieve more military victories with them? More victories than the last samurai who bravely charged at the Amanto canons wielding bows and arrow. So why doesn't he appreciate them even a little bit more than his "old" friends, most of whom are already dead, and those that refused to die have to be slain night after night?
Bansai offered you a new life, you ought to know that.
Try and take his hand...
Why don't you?
Maybe he did like Bansai, if only a tiny bit. The room felt like a vacuum now that he was gone. The red warning beacons on top of the skyscrapers continued to blink monotonously, whether anyone was there to observe them or not. They were dreadful. Abruptly, he rolled down the shades, plunging the room into smoky darkness. The end of his pipe glowed cherry red, then faded softly. The smoke curled into the air like ghostly petals of a spider lily. They grew into a field of white lilies, wafting in the breeze.
Bansai says he's like a moth to a flame. Little does he know that I'm the same…
At the last part of his dream, his heart had been hopelessly enchained by the gentle red sun shining from Katsura's eyes deep into his soul.
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Everyone who was born within the pale of our Empire must know the reason why it is called the Great Empire of Japan.
Isn't our Imperial Dynasty something that has been going on forever from time immemorial, in one single unbroken line?
Vassals of His Majesty received their domains from one generation to another. Rulers have been feeding the people, and so we must be grateful for it, and we are greatly indebted to them.
Rulers and the people are of one body. Loyalty to the ruler and filial piety to the parents are one and the same thing. In this world, our country is the only one that possesses this character.
As the Imperial line has been so from the beginning of time, our loyalty must also be maintained forever......
This is Loyalty. This is the way of the samurai.
(Yoshida Shoin,1830-1859)
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Takasugi, thirteen years old, propped his cheek in his palm. Sometimes, Shouyou-sensei's teachings left him cold.
The ruler feeds us, so we're loyal to him. But it just means I'm loyal to the food, not to him. Forget about filial piety…I don't love my parents at all, I know if my father dies, I won't even shed a tear. Maybe even rejoice…
His pupils shifted slightly to the corner of his eyes, where he caught a glimpse of a fascinating object. Katsura Kotaro. His big brown eyes were sparkling bright as he concentrated on every word in the textbook. He probably loves what he's reading, the freaking picture-perfect-prefect- role-model-person. Even his life is like a fairytale. Although born into a low-ranking samurai family like the rest of us, when he was nine years old, he was so cute that he was selected to be "Edo Festival Boy", the kid dressed in fancy ancient robes going from house to house making New Year greetings. For that, he had been conferred the honorary rank of a member of the Imperial Family of the 5th rank.
As Takasugi brooded through downcast lashes, he noticed that Katsura's eyes weren't really brown at all. Reflections played across his serene eyes like a canvas, making it hazel, green, golden, ever changing. His face was fair, but tips of his nose were slightly pink and so were his lips. As a cloud passed by the window, dimming the light that streamed into the classroom, the deep blue-grey of his kimono deepened into black, and his dark brown hair glistened.
Their autumn days were warm, but Zura wore a scarf around his neck. He had been wearing it all week. Is he hiding something?
Suddenly, as if finally unable to stand Takasugi's probing look any longer, Katsura looked up and frowned. Takasugi grinned. There we have it, the annoying "proud prince" look on his face. Me likes.
Right after class ended, Katsura hurried alone toward the back of the school. Being somewhat obsessed about his classmate, he followed out of curiosity.
"Zura! Wait for me, Zura!"
"Takasugi-kun. What are you doing here?"
"Nothing, where are you going?"
"Edo- uwah!"
Katsura's scarf got whipped off by the breeze and flattened itself against Takasugi's face.
When he handed it over, he was shocked to see faded black bruises on Katsura's neck.
"Yikes!" He pointed. "That looks ugly!"
"I got injured while training."
"Did someone squeeze your neck?"
There was a flash of hurt in Zura's eyes. Without further ado, Zura dashed down the grassy path. Takasugi plunged after him in hot pursuit. Their boarding school was located in a temple in a tiny mountain village north of Edo, about 30 kilometers from downtown Edo. It took half a day's walk to get to Edo and Katsura never used to go back, but recently he's been down there every weekend.
Finally Zura spun around, his wooden sword in hand.
"I'm warning you, Takasugi, stop following me!"
"Is this an invitation?" Takasugi grinned, pulling out his own wooden sword. "By the way, there's no one around, so you may cry as loudly as you want when I kick your ass."
Zura seemed relieved. "If all you want is a duel, I'm happy to oblige. But I intend to reach Edo before nightfall. If you don't mind, let's have our match on Monday instead."
"What are you doing in Edo?"
"None of your business."
"Take me with you."
"You won't be interested, I'm just gonna…" Katsura blushed beet red, unable to hide his innate honesty while obviously thinking of some excuse to get rid of his pushy classmate. "Uh, I joined a downtown poetry society, it's only old men and unemployed ronin sitting around drinking. It'll bore you to death."
"Heh, if a teahouse is so boring why are you going there?"
Katsura shrugged. "Because I like tea?"
"Well then, my fine tea-loving friend. Which teahouse are you headed to?"
"Why you! You're persistant, you know that?" He knocked aside Takasugi's hand which reached for his collar. "It's at the Sakuranya, but it's members only." He blurted out, throwing his hands in the air as if to get rid of him.
"Really, I want to join too, take me with you!"
"No!"
"C'mon, at least walk together? I was headed for Edo myself!"
"Then be quiet, I have to rush." Seemingly resigned to his unwanted companion, Zura broke into a run. Takasugi had terrible lungs but he made a big effort to keep up. An hour later, they reached the outskirts of Edo and it became harder to follow Zura through the busy traffic. Half and hour later, Takasugi finally gave up. Crowds, hand-carts and palanquins mixed in a chaotic whirl, but no Zura. His chest heaved like it was about to burst. He leaned one hand against the wall of a shophouse and closed his eyes, panting hard. Warm sweat plopped from his forehead liberally onto the ground.
"Shit, I've lost him." But he mentioned the Sakuranya, so all I have to do is ask around. The idiot can't tell a lie to save his life. he chuckled mockingly. "Baka~"
"Baka!" A boy about his age was jumping up and down in front of him, anxiously pointing at his feet, his cheeks were flushed from trying to tell him something but lacking the vocabulary to do so. "Bakaaaaa!!"
"What the-?" Takasugi stared at him, still out of breath and seeing stars. What a strange-looking boy. His face was Japanese, his clothes gorgeous with family crest and wearing two swords. Nice ones. But he can't speak Japanese!
He boy finally burst out. "Sie gehen auf meine Drachen!" and tugged at his feet. He realized he was stepping on a fine looking Rokkaku six-sided fighter kite whose wingspan was easily a few feet over his full height. It was painted with a Tengu ascending a stormcloud. The demon's face looked even more contorted now that it was decorated by dust from his sandals "Whoa! Domo!" Takasugi cried, jumping out of the way. There was a distinct crack from the bamboo spine, followed a sound of connecting fists.
Oops.
"Verdammt nochmal!!"
They started to brawl right on the streets. That was his first meeting with Kawakami Bansai. An Edo boy shipwrecked in Prussia and brought back home on one of the Amanto Black Ships. Neither of the two brats realized that their chance meeting, like the joining of two rivers flowing south, was destined ninety-one years later to wash the Pacific Ocean in a tide of red.
On that day, the sky over the clustered warships turned jet black in a matter of minutes. Invisible to human eyes, Tengu gnawed on fire and burst into flames. First one, then two or three large Tengu mounted the black wind and flew into the sky. Then smaller Tengu appeared, numerous beyond number, rampaging from cloud to cloud. As the fire rained down, the warships exploded into smoldering bonfires. Burning embers gushed skyward like a cloud of red snow in the billowing wind.
Surveying the nation from on high, the biggest Tengu of all let out a barbarous boom of glee.
Ku ku ku…
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To be continued…
A/N: I guess most readers might be going " Whoa...What the heck?!" at this point 0_0;;;
orz orz....that's not my intention, obviously. Let me know if there are some parts I might want to fix. Hope you review anyways...esp BanTaka fans! Woot! I keep coming back to BanTaka as my fave pairing although I love TakaZura too. Yey August 10 is coming and there'll be lots of Taka doujins up at Silver Soul. Can't wait to read 'em!
BTW Bansai's German isn't entirely correct either xD;;
