The story of how Kyuzo got his twin katanas, his red coat and also earned a friend. Featuring Kyuzo, an OC, a pup hound named Mushi, some people from Kougakyo and some Nobuseris too.
(1)Note! I apologize for any setting mistakes and if there are some elements in the story that are incoherent when it comes to the setting or descriptions. I don't fully grasp the Samurai 7 universe so I filled in the lacks with imagination!
(2)Note! The story starts 3 years prior to the actual story.
Disclaimer: Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa.
Soundtrack! When it comes to writing, music is muse. The story is divided in multiple parts that each have their soundtrack. Samurai – Samurai 7 OST is to 'unfulfilled desire'. Kirara's theme – Samurai 7 OST is to 'a ticket out'. Set fire to the rain by Adele is obviously to 'rain on fire'. The Meadow by Alexandre Desplat is to 'flourish'. Niji Musubi (Tying Rainbow) by Rin is to 'the red bird'. You are invited to listen to those songs while reading.
Edit 04/11/13: Separated the story into individual chapters to make it easier to read. :)
RED BIRD
.the red bird
Three years passed, and the world kept on turning as they aged slightly divided, and yet the same. Each day she was becoming more of a woman of lacquered thoughts and prominent mind, and the abrasions left on her skin quietly carved into her youthful vigour. She stayed the perceiving and witty girl he had met, while he did not change much of his brisk and fleeting attitude, albeit he grew more desirous to be vast and free, waiting for the day he'd be spurred back into place. More importantly, they made it through those calm years back to back, and its only when he was beside her that he could catch a wif of those relic old times before the Great War, which she cherished in the memory of her father, brother, and his too.
And then that day, and that man, finally came.
Shimada Kambei.
The moment their blades met, Kyuzo felt something break in his chest. As the dark-skinned man swiped a hit towards him, he found himself laced with a challenge, and his eyes slightly widened as multiple of his strikes were pared, and when the counter-attacks succeeded. He had never, not since the Great War, encountered another breathing being that successfully locked his neck with a blade within barely a few minutes, no, a few seconds, and on that day Kyuzo knew he had found another competent Samurai, worthy of being compared to. Even after the battle he was having trouble thrusting his thoughts away from the fact he wanted to fight again. This time without any distractions, and only the blades between them, and the adrenaline-dosed realisation someone would die in the battle.
He wanted to have the honour of Kambei's death, but he wouldn't have it while he had Hogyo, the Magistrate and everyone else buzzing for his life, too.
"Something interesting happened today?"
He had found her on the front steps of her house, playing flute and obviously waiting for him. Now she was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed as she allowed sunshine to warm up her face. He had been seating a few paces away, hunched, with his arm on his knee and his chin on his arm and with his gaze lost.
"I can feel those thoughts of yours churning like a black cloud."
"I fought someone today."
"Oh?"
She blinked an eye open, and she offered him all her attention. He didn't say anything for several other minutes, narrowing his eyes more and more. He was feeling ignited, and all he wanted to do was get back to Kougakyo and face that Kambei again. He couldn't care less what Ayamaro had to say, or how badly he wanted that group of samurai caught. Only he would have the honour of Kambei's death. Only he.
He sighed, and passed a hand through his blond hair. Omine smirked lightly, and then she started laughing. A rough low sound he didn't hear often. Her smiles, her happiness were often in her eyes, and not in her mouth or voice. Now he was looking at her from the corner of his slanted red eyes, unsure if he wanted to know what was amusing her so much.
"It's another Samurai," he said in his raspy voice.
"Ahh."
Ahh.
"I was wondering when you'd bump into him," she said, and he lifted his head.
She met his gaze. "What, you thought I was done roaming around Kougakyo? I may not be as productive as once, but I still have to carry serious business. I know who they are. It's a young priestess who's hiring them. I saw them talking to some make-belief samurai who all but accepted their pleas." She smiled and looked in the distance. "But they've found a few willing, haven't they? See, samurai are back. You should join them."
For that to be he'd have to quit being Ayamaro's body guard. That would not be a regretted course of action. But he didn't care about the others. It was only Kambei he was interested about. After their battle, he had been promised a rematch. And that rematch would only come after they were done helping that priestess. Far too long.
But he could wait. He would wait for another battle.
Because just like Omine, Kambei had known. Kambei had seen in him the samurai from the first glance. Just like Omine, Kambei had understood Kyuzo without even exchanging words. Where Omine had put a sword in his hands, Kambei had put wonderment in their battle. And the wonderment was shared by the older samurai, too. Kyuzo knew the older samurai wanted him in his team, and that it was just a matter of time before Kyuzo would betray his well-respected place by Ayamaro's side to follow, anchored by the promise of a rematch. He closed his eyes. The impatience was burning.
He felt a hand on his knee and looked up at those green eyes.
"Kyuzo, you have to go. You've already decided, haven't you?" A knowing smile spread on her lips. "You're not a dog, Kyuzo. You can't keep on being forced by the Magistrate to follow him around like a pet. I bet you haven't had a good fight in a long time, and our little duels don't count. I'm not match for you, but that Kambei is."
Indeed, he hadn't had a good fight in a long time. He had tuned himself in his frame as protector, and there had, yes, been some advantages. He had not worried where he'd find the daily portions or rice. Or where he'd lay his head at night. He had not been reduced to the pathetic status of a thief, and his blades had been kept clean and his senses trained. He had not become one of those roaming men who still called themselves samurai when they couldn't even defeat a simple opponent because of how numbed their skills had become. He had escaped a miserable faith and found protection in the luxury his position had offered, but grown quieter, stiller and tamed. But as he looked into Omine's eyes he saw that she understood that it was all over. And she had been the beginning of the end.
"Omine."
"Hmm?"
"Why did you save me?" He looked into the pool of her green eyes, hoping she would not look away and repeat what she had said before. Her gaze did not falter, but the pronounced words were not the ones he had been hoping for.
"Because I c-"
"That's a lie."
She smiled, and leaned back. The birds around them sang out their braying way of cadence.
"Very well. I saved you because I wanted to. I wanted you to carry those swords. I wanted you to go out there and shine and I wanted everyone to see proper Samurai still existed. I've been extremely selfish, I apologize. Are you satisfied?"
He crossed his legs and put both hands on his knees. "Also. Why the two blades and not one?"
He saw her take a deep breath, and when he looked at him she smiled. She smiled for real. Not a smirk, not a little grin. A true, wide smile that showed her white teeth and squeezed her scars. She was smiling as if she was the mother of a son who had just asked why the sun ran across the sky every day.
"Because you're like a bird, Kyuzo. You need two wings to fly."
He stared, quiet like a koi in the pond. That moment was the second time he felt like taking her face and pulling her into a kiss. He had to desist again.
When night had fallen they were both seated on the stairs behind the house. He was looking at her from the corner of his eyes and she was running a cloth over her katana. She had her back turned to him, and her long hair was draped over her back. He came nearer and sat down behind her, taking wisps of her dark tresses into his hands. He felt her stop and freeze, but he continued to run his fingers in her hair, until he had divided it into multiple sections and started braiding it. He knew she was smirking.
"Oh, my."
"One of my many secret talents," he murmured.
They were standing before the house a few days later. She was wearing her dark blue kimono again, and had cut down a few of the white roses that grew in her garden. She held one in her hand, rolling it between her fingers.
"You don't have to kill him, Kyuzo. Don't be such a brute. I bet he's a really nice man, and you're the one who's been complaining during all those years that there was no one out there for you to fight properly. Now that you've found your soul mate, can't you let him live? Make a friend, not a corpse."
His lips tugged into a smirk. He knew she understood his motives, but she had always been just at heart, and she was a woman. A woman he admired, though. She crossed her arms then, and looked at him mischievously. "Well, have fun out there. I bet I won't be seeing you for some time."
Probably not. Kambei was being quick and moving around too fast, and Kyuzo was already neglecting his duties by spending time outside of Kougakyo when he was supposed to be hunting down the dark samurai. But he'd get to it. He stared at Omine carefully once last time. Her hair was still braided, so long and so red, and her scars had a vibrate gleam to them. She had been right. They did give her a tougher look.
The sky overhead was cutting and bright, the sun an assertive blond this afternoon, as it glowered upon the quiet forest. Kyuzo's eyes gazed up at the house that had been his refuge for the past three years, then at the clouds that dispersed themselves, the wind waving him as though he was an orphan that jumped in the sea. Omine tossed her head above, wondering what he was looking at so intensely, but he didn't say a word and took a step forward.
"When I'll be back, I'll show you the worl-" he said.
"No."
He blinked, and stopped. She shook her head. "No, Kyuzo. Don't make promises. You know how badly those work when one sets off to war. It is a war you're going to fight, even if you consider it just like a task before you can settle down a big macho fight with Kambei. But don't make promises."
And he knew why. He nodded, and she titled her head.
"See you later, Kyuzo," she started saying but she didn't have time to finish. He crossed the last steps between them like wind, bent down and put his lips on hers. He felt the little jump of surprise, but she didn't slip away and he took her face. The kiss deepened, and their breaths became one, but it was over soon, and he touched his forehead with hers for a second as he murmured the rest and ran his thumb over the scars on her face. Her green eyes were wide but smiling.
"-or maybe never."
His hand trailed over her arm and then he was one step away. Than two and he was turning around, walking away, his red coat swaying around his legs, his twin blades in his back, his blond hair over his eyes.
Omine watched him go the way she had wanted him to; without looking back, marching off to war, finally ready to live. She waved still, but he didn't have his eyes on her to see it. There was a strange sense of déjà vue.
During the following weeks she traveled to Kougakyo often, learning bit by bit how famous the Seven Samurai were becoming. She saw men's spirits lift, inspiration bloom in their hearts. They were admiring those warriors who had set off to fight against the bandits with only the promise of rice, and she'd smile, and hope they'd win.
And the wind blew and the sun ran across the sky, nights shrivelled away and there came chaos and trouble for Kougakyo and the emperor. There was war and longing for quieter times, and always she hoped he was making good use of his katanas. The days passed and he did not come back, even when news of the winning battles spread.
That day she was sitting on her front stairs, accepting faith had opted for the never.
She knew it had ended the way every samurai wanted it to end; in battle and around comrades. She hoped someone had wept over his body, and if not, she'd be the one to do it. But not today. Today she looked up to the sky with a smirk, and went walking back into her house.
The little rest of the weapons were bundled up and put aside for sale. She gathered her tools and locked them inside, cut the last of roses and swept the floors. She opened old cupboards, drawers and dressers and took out the ancient armours. She buckled up her katana and locked the front doors of her house. As she walked away, she surprised herself with a tear, but wiped it away promptly.
She lifted her gaze and searched, in the foliage of the trees, in a ray of sunshine, through the sky and in the depths of her heart, she searched with a stirring breath for the hazardous flight of a red bird.
Fin.
That's it! My tribute to Kyuzo. 8) This little story was inspired by the fact the anime doesn't give that much insight on the characters' past, so this came almost instantly after I was done watching.