Disclaimer: I don't own Sengoku Basara. However, the reluctant heroine of this piece, Ichijou Akoya (now Date Akoya), is mine.
A/N: Any Engrish that Date uses will be in bold type.
"You did what?" Kojuurou's horrified voice broke the silence that followed Masamune's narration of the events of his wedding night.
The Oushuu chief shrugged, prompting an outraged huff from his retainer.
"Masamune-sama! A samurai does not point a sword at his wife for no reason at all! Especially not a new wife who is young and probably has no idea how to conduct herself!"
"A samurai," Masamune bit out, "usually doesn't end up with a terrified cold fish instead of a wife, either. At least, not one who shows it." When Kojuurou made as if to interrupt, he held up a staying hand. "No. You advised me into this marriage, and now I'm stuck with a woman who detests the sight of me for some reason I can't fathom. So you'll let me deal with this mess my way. You see?"
"I would if I didn't have to worry about you carving the girl up with your six claws if she doesn't shape up," his retainer muttered, looking as if he didn't know whom to hold responsible for the fiasco – his lord or his lady.
Masamune looked at him surprise. "Who the hell said she has to 'shape up'?"
Kojuurou blinked at him. "I…don't understand, Masamune-sama…don't you want a wife? If Akoya-sama refuses to do her duty as your-" He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly petrified by the chilling anger in the blue-grey gaze that confronted him.
"She's my wife whether or not she chooses to do this 'duty' you're so fixated on."
Kojuurou braved through the glare his lord was leveling at him and pressed his case. "You will need an heir. It seems easy to give in to her whims now…but what will you do if she refuses to budge at all?"
Masamune shrugged again, remarkably careless for a man who had just been told that the future of his dynasty could lie in tatters if he didn't force his wife to behave. "We'll work something out."
"Conjure an heir from the air?"
The Dokuganryu let it go. He didn't have to like the ideas his usually sensible retainer was flinging around, but he could hardly order the man gagged for speaking his views. From a purely practical viewpoint, he could even appreciate the unsubtle suggestion Kojuurou was making. Openly cringing wives were uncommon among the nobility, but they weren't unheard of. Most were tamed into obedience by their husbands, and didn't make a peep of trouble unless they wanted to lose their lives.
The trouble was, the idea of raping or beating a woman into giving up her body made him want to vomit.
Is it some weakness in me?
He didn't know. All he knew for certain was that he didn't share his fellow daimyo's easy ownership of their womenfolk.
Maybe I am weak. I can't even control a woman.
But then, he had never wanted to. He was a free spirit, going where his will led him and staking his future on nothing but himself. Once, people had tried to muffle him, squash his desire and ambition.
Not people. Mother.
Because he hadn't fit her ideal of manhood. Because one eye had come between him and perfection – and if she believed that without physical perfection one should not attempt to reach for the heavens, then by the gods, he was to follow her edicts or be incarcerated.
Heh. Crazy control freak.
This wasn't about his unruly young wife at all.
Well, perhaps it is. A little.
Still, his primary reason for not doing the sane thing was that he would have to take away her freedom in order to do it. Freedom was a precious thing. A man could choose his own destiny, but a woman was forever bound to her man. Masamune looked at his future – barren of children or love, the years melting into cold seasons of resentment from a woman who – rightly, his conscience interjected – loathed the loss of her limited freedom.
It was a future he did not want.
But he was a man who had made his own way of life, and he would be damned before he pulled a hypocritical about-face and dictated how a woman should live hers.
Just because she's a woman.
But he knew that he wouldn't bother if she was "just a woman," or even someone else's woman.
Then because she is my wife. The wife of the Dokuganryu.
A wife with wide, scared eyes that tried to balance life against death, because she wasn't afraid to admit that the former was precious.
A wife who tried to be brave, though she scarcely knew how, because she didn't want to go down without a fight.
A wife that he suspected he would come to enjoy, if she let him close enough.
Well, why not?
She wanted to be free of him…didn't she? Even if she hadn't voiced it, her actions had spoken loudly enough to cover any doubts. He couldn't set her loose into the world – she was his responsibility now. But he could grant her a unique gift.
A free man…should have a free woman by his side.
But what he dared not think about yet, even to himself, was the silently damning admission in the secret heart of his desires.
If you give this woman freedom, mayhaps she'll give you her love.
Pweesey? Review?