Important AN: Sorry, I know I haven't updated this story in a long, long time so this is just to let you know that this chapter explains the flashback at the start of chapter 46, so if it you can't remember it please read it if this chapter seems a little out of the blue and I hope it will clear things up. This is set the night before the flashback in chapter 46. I'm sorry, I know I said that I'd get back to Ran and Ken in the next chapter but I forgot about this chapter, which I wrote a while ago and wasn't sure where to put. Umm, I kinda noticed that things get a little mature at the end of this chapter (cough cough) and so I've put the rating up to compensate. It's not too explicit, I hope, so sorry if I offend anyone!

Italics = flashback

Chapter 51

The Truth we Buried

Ranmaru Fujimiya was the bane of my existence. Ever since myself and Yamagata had met him he was a thorn in my side. Even after I befriended him, all he did was make things more complicated that they had to be. I hadn't been lying when I said that he never noticed us, that he never took the time to care about us, about me, at least...at least in front of others he didn't. I did not like to think about the few times that he showed genuine affection for me, and I for him. It only made his betrayal seem all the more real, all the more painful. Yet as we ran through the woods, running from certain death and jumping into the van with what was left of our group, all I could think of was his bright eyes and his pale face on that one night. A night that I would always keep close to me. Something I had never told anyone about, not even Yamagata. The memory that broke me worst of all when I found out it was Fujimiya, my Fujimiya, that had signed our deaths away to save someone else.

If I had to choose the thing I liked most about this place, even though the beds were very comfortable and the food excellent, it would have to be the saké. For regular soldiers like us, good saké was a rare luxury and, in all honesty, when the frail old lady who ran the establishment brought it out, I was instantly wary. All I could think was that this was some sort of presentiment, a 'last drink' or something else just as final.

Didn't stop me drinking it however. Lots of it.

I don't think I ever remembered laughing so hard in all my life. Whether it was the saké or the company, who knew. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was the crisp mountain air that made me feel so awake and alive. Maybe it was the impending battle that loomed ever nearer with every step we took towards Kawanakajima which forced us to enjoy it more than usual.

"And then...then," Yamagata was almost hyperventilating from the laughter, the man sitting next to him slapping him on the back, his face bright red, "the magistrate said...oh, he said 'that's no lady, that's my wife!'"

Saké sprayed over the room as those who had been drinking spat it out and began roaring and slapping the table, eyes scrunched shut, choking on their own laughter. I saw the door open out of the corner of my eye and held my breath, waiting to see who it was. But it was only the owner's son, slipping in quietly to take away the empty tokkuri (1) and replace them with full ones.

"Arigatou!" I cried out, startling him; he'd obviously pegged me too drunk to notice his intrusion, "Have one for yourself, go on!"

He bowed, twice, shyly and bit his lip when I offered him my sakazuki (2). He took it, when I pushed it into his hands, and quickly tipped back his head and swallowed it in one. I gave a shout of enthusiasm, clapping once loudly and grinning at him like a maniac as he coughed roughly and handed it back. He smiled at me evasively before standing and leaving the room, steadying himself on the doorway on his way out.

"The kid's too young to be drinking this stuff Yoshitsuna!" Yamagata said too loudly, annunciating each syllable clearly and precisely in the way only very drunk people do.
"Ah, shut up Yamagata-kun," I said good naturedly, pouring myself a fresh cup and trying my hardest not to spill it, "never keep good saké to yourself, that's what I say!"
"Yes, but if you keep giving it to every person who walks by the room," said Kantaro, sitting to my left, "then there won't be any left for us."
"That's where you have misjudged me," I hiccoughed and snorted in laughter at the action, "you see, the more drunk they are, the more alcohol they'll bring!"

For some reason Yamagata thought that this was the funniest thing he had ever heard in his life. He fell backwards onto the floor and howled, slapping his hands against the tatami. I shook my head, looking up expectantly when the door slid open again, but it was only Kansuke-sama, a sly smile on his lined face.

"Ah, enjoying the saké I see, fine gentlemen," he couldn't help but break into a grin as he walked across the room towards our table; a space was hastily formed and he sat with us, accepting a brim full sakazuki and emptying it promptly.

We let out a cry and followed his example. We were happy for once, happy because we could find something to lose ourselves in. I smiled at Yamagata's prone form, still sprawled on his back on the floor, chest rising and falling in sleep. I shook my head, smile fading slightly as I looked towards the closed door.

He hadn't come.

"Hey, Nagato," I said to the man opposite me.

Nagato looked wildly round, blinking and spilling his drink into his lap. It made me think twice about asking him for this favour. Then I realised we were all as pissed out of our faces as each other so it didn't matter who I asked. I shrugged and waved my hand in his face to get his attention.

"Nagato," he blinked and then grinned at me, "hey, make sure Yamagata is okay, alright? He doesn't drink often."
"Ah, don't underestimate this one," Nagato said, smirking, "when he wakes up I think he'll go all night!"
"That's what I'm afraid of," I sighed, snagging another sakazuki and a full tokkuri, "just don't let him do anything stupid, ne?"
"Why?" Nagato finally cottoned on, "Where are you going?"

I stalled, swallowing and wondered what to say.

"Good saké is for sharing Nagato," Kansuke-sama said, smiling knowingly at me; I shivered, laughed nervously and then fled the room as fast as my drunken state would allow me.

The night air was cool and the stars were bright, doused slightly by the full moon. I breathed in deeply, letting it sober me a little, trying to focus on standing upright without swaying. I managed it, but couldn't keep it up for too long. Using the wooden rail on the walkway to steady myself I made my way towards the sleeping quarters. He said that he would drink with us tonight but, as usual, he had hidden himself away instead. Not tonight, I decided determinedly.

I guessed that he had holed himself up in his room, that's where I'd seen him last and, if he followed the same behaviour he'd shown at all of our other stops, he would still be there now. I smiled wryly when I rounded the corner and spied the light through the wall of his quarters. I tried to sneak over, thinking I could surprise him, but gave up when I remembered that he would know I was there even if I was trying to do this sober. I opened the door quietly and looked in. He looked at me and I looked back. He was sitting seiza in the centre of the small room, his white yukata glowing softly in the light of two small candles, futon set out behind him neatly, ready for use. He held a brush in his right hand, dipped in the ink pot by his right knee. I looked down to the paper scroll in front of him; he was writing something but I couldn't focus on it. I looked back up into his violet eyes. His red hair was loose. I stared.

"You're drunk," were the first words to come out of his mouth.

It wasn't an accusation, just a simple statement. When we had first met I would probably have started a fight over this 'simple statement', but over the past three weeks I'd managed to figure out some of his personality quirks. So I simply shrugged, smirking.

"So is everyone else," I said back, entering the room without waiting for his permission, pulling the door shut behind me, "why aren't you?"

He sighed, placing his brush and ink slate onto a large saucer and moving the scroll out of the way to dry. Once he was done he turned back to me, looking at me questioningly. I sat down as gracefully as I could, in other words not very, and placed the tokkuri down between us, then his cup, then my cup. He looked from me, to them, to me. I gave him a look.

"It's not that hard to figure out, genius," I said sarcastically.
"I gather that you are trying to get me intoxicated," he said.
"Wow you really are smart," I smirked, waving my hand at him, "you pour, I'd just spill it."

He hesitated for another moment, as if deciding whether it would be more hassle to force me to leave than to just drink with me until I went unconscious and then dump me outside in the garden. Whatever the reason, he picked up the tokkuri and poured until the cups were nearly spilling over the brim. I grinned and grabbed my own, managing, somehow, not to spill a drop. He picked his up slowly, elegantly and I waited until he was ready until I shouted.

"Kampai!" and downed it in one, feeling the room swim with the sudden movement.
"Kampai," he said calmly, mirroring my actions.

I must admit I had expected a little more resistance. He was giving in far too easily, it was...strange. He didn't put his cup down and say that he'd had a drink so I could leave now like I'd expected him to. Instead he cradled it in both hands, eyes closed, and breathed in deeply. I knew I was definitely staring now. Then he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"Thank you for sharing this with me Yoshitsuna-san," he said genuinely, "this is very good saké."
"Yes," I said back stupidly, holding out my cup as he lifted the jug to pour himself another; he filled it steadily, even as my hand wavered.

We drank in silence until I started to feel a little uneasy. I had simply wanted to make him have a drink with me and now that I'd accomplished that I wasn't sure what to do next. He was so goddamned calm! Why couldn't he just get drunk like any other normal person? Ah hell, I thought, I suppose I'd better just ask.

"Why don't you drink with us?"

He looked up slowly, perhaps the first signs of the alcohol taking effect, and looked at me. I could practically see his mind ticking away.

"You think that I dislike you and your comrades," he concluded; trust him to jump to heart of the matter.
"Do you?" I asked seriously, ruining the effect by slurring.
"No," he said back, "I'm just not what you'd call...very sociable."
"You don't say," I said dryly, "I've met hermits more sociable than you."
"You've never even met a hermit," he said back with a scrutinising stare, "have you."
"No," I admitted forcefully, "but if I did it'd probably be easier to get them to have a drink than it is to get you to."

He shook his head and smiled again. I watched him.

"You should do that more often," I said gruffly.
"Excuse me?" he asked, smile disappearing as he looked back up.
"Smile," I said simply, smiling back as I swung my cup towards his to clink them together, "kampai!"

Crack. The saké ran over my hand and onto the floor. I stared at the two broken cups, confused. How the hell had I done that?

"Honestly Takemata-san, you don't know your own strength sometimes," Fujimiya sighed, eyeing the broken sakazuki in his hand.
"Huh?" I said eloquently, "Hey, uh, it was an accident!"
"Well, I suppose I should probably get some sleep anyway," he shrugged, taking my broken cup and picking up the pieces from the floor.
"What? No, that's a ridiculous idea!" I interjected, "Just because we don't have cups doesn't mean we can't still drink!"

I lifted the bottle and took a hurried swig to demonstrate. He eyed me with distaste.

"Takemata-san I am not drinking saké from the tokkuri," he said seriously, as if it were plainly obvious that doing so would get you sent straight to hell.
"Why the hell not?" I argued back.
"Because I'm not," he said tersely; it was then, only then, that I realised that I'd annoyed him, maybe even made him angry.

Amazing. I'd made him smile and made him angry in the space of one drinking session. I hadn't managed to get such a varied list of reactions out of Fujimiya since we'd met. His eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

"Oh, to common for you is it?" I said back with a snort.
"Don't be unreasonable," he said tightly.
"I'm not the one being unreasonable," I said back, eyes narrowed, "you're the one refusing to drink with me just because we don't have any cups."
"I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else," he said coldly, fingers curled into the fabric of his yukata.
"I didn't ask you to explain why," I said in frustration, the aggravation ruining my pleasant buzz, "I just want you to have a drink with me..."
"I already have had a drink with you," he said.
"I knew it! I knew you would say that at some point!" I said, pointing my finger at him.
"What are you talking about?" he growled.
"Never mind that," I shook my head and looked at him purposefully, pushing up onto my knees and leaning forwards into his personal space to push the tokkuri into his face, "drink."
"No," he said forcefully, not making any move to push me away but glaring at me all the same.
"Just drink from the bottle," I said, shaking the bottle for emphasis.
"I said no," and he sounded like he meant it.

I stared at him and he stared at me. In a moment of mad, drunken clarity, I made up my mind.

"Fine," I said casually.

I put the bottle to my lips and took a deep swig, ignoring his sound of disgust at my lack of manners or whatever he thought was so very wrong about it. I didn't swallow it. Then I put the bottle down. Then I grabbed a fistful of his yukata and jerked him forwards, slamming his shocked mouth against my own, forcing his lips open with my tongue. I transferred the saké into his mouth and waited until he swallowed so that he couldn't spit it back out. My tongue slid against his. There was a slight sound when our lips separated. When I pulled back I noticed his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open.

Then I sat back on my heels and looked at him. It was that moment I realised just how beautiful he was.

The next thing I knew I had him on the floor, covering his body, hands scrambling hurriedly at his loose yukata, ignoring the muffled, half formed protests he let loose between gasps. When I closed my hand around his cloth covered erection his mouth opened in a silent groan and his head fell back, exposing his neck. He had one hand around my neck, supporting himself, the other propping him up from beneath. He was shaking. I took the opportunity to put my tongue into his mouth and didn't stop kissing him until I ran out of air. He looked otherworldly, preternatural, as he moved against me in the candlelight, biting his lip to keep quiet as I continued to manipulate him. Red hair spilling over the floor and his pale shoulders.

"We shouldn't..." I started suddenly, my brain catching up with the drink addled thought that this hadn't possibly been the best idea, remembering a rather large detail about the man beneath me, "you're married..."
"Don't you dare," he gasped out, bringing his other arm up to loop around my neck, pulling me to him, "want you. Please."

I wanted him too. I realised that I had wanted him for a long time. It was rough and fast, he held onto me and cried out into my shoulder as we finished together. We lay there, panting, his fingers slowly loosening their death grip on my hair.

"Oh god," I said, at that moment unable to fully process my actions or my motives, "oh god."

He stroked my hair gently but I found it impossible to calm down. I pushed up onto my elbows, leaning over his prone form, looking at his relaxed features, eyes merely violet slits, hair spread out around him like a bloody mess. As I continued to look down at him, finding it harder to breathe as time slowly ticked past, his expression changed from one of contentment to confusion and finally to resignation. The hand in my hair stopped its soothing ministrations.

"You're leaving," he surmised softly.
"I..." what could I say to that? Sorry I jumped you a moment of drunken lust? Can you forgive me and we can go back to being friends now? Was that what I really wanted?
"I would rather you didn't make up some excuse or other," he said, not in the harsh tone I'd expected; instead it sounded lost, a little broken, and I felt a guilty stab in my chest.
"Ranmaru," I said, shaking my head, feeling the need for courage, wishing I had more sake to make this easier.
"Please," he said, closing his eyes, "don't."
"No!" I said with as much authority as I could; at that moment the candle decided to go out, leaving us in darkness, robbing me of his reaction to what I was about to say, "You don't understand. Maybe you never will. I don't think we're the same, you and I, although I have to admit that you are still a complete enigma to me and I'm sure you'll never feel the need to explain yourself. But me, I'm easy to understand and you're not stupid so don't pretend like I'm complicated or anything. I like you, a lot. I didn't realise it at first but, now that I do, I'm not...I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to leave. This, even if I have to get drunk to admit it, is what I've been wanting ever since I befriended you. Even if you do regret it, then it'll be short lived, we only have another week together anyway."

The silence that followed was broken only by the rustling of the wind in the trees and my own harsh breathing. I was suddenly scared, for no reason other than the sake had left me emotionally exposed and I never did handle rejection well. There was also still the sick feeling of doing something criminal, something wrong and against nature, even if I promised myself I would never hate myself for it. It spread out, like a wave of nausea, and I began to feel weak under its oppressive weight. I was about to admit defeat, stand up, get dressed and walk back to the party, try my best to pretend none of this had ever happened. That was until I felt a hand on the back of my neck, tugging impatiently until I was lowered down into the darkness. His lips found mine before I found his, and I could feel the smile there. I blinked in surprise, amazed that my speech had convinced him, and then grinned before sinking into the kiss, into the feeling of his arms closing around me.

"Don't you tell me to be fucking quiet you unemotional, hypocritical fuck!" Schuldich yelled suddenly, "He killed Nagi! I saw him, he killed him, he killed him! I'll fucking kill you Fujimiya!"
"Ran," I breathed out in disbelief, jolted back to the present by Schuldich's wild claim, "is that true?"

The thought of that man, that kind, gentle man that I fell foolishly in love with all those years ago, could kill a small child in cold blood actually struck me as unbelievable for a whole thirty seconds. That was of course until I remembered his terrible betrayal and began to wonder if my sheer sentimentality was the only thing that was forcing me to trust him.

I turned in my seat and saw that Yamagata's accusing eyes were fixed on me, and for a blinding moment I thought he knew, knew all of my secrets. Then the screech of tires interrupted my thoughts, leaving me hollow and sick to my stomach. I closed my eyes and, for the millionth time in my long, agonising existence, wished things could have been simple.

(1) Sake jug

(2) White sake cup