Dai Yon Shou
"This will be your
quarters.” Kenshin slid the fusama aside to reveal a large room,
floored with fresh tatami, with several zabuton arranged around a low
table. The butsudon held a simple vase with a willow branch. Shoji
panels on the far wall had been opened onto the central courtyard,
highlighting the view of an elaborate koi pond and single weeping
sakura tree. It was everything Hiroshi admired; simple, restful, and
decorated with exquisite taste. “Get settled in. We will talk more
over the evening meal. If you need anything my housekeeper is at your
service.”
Hiroshi nodded. “Would
you mind if I looked around a bit?”
"This is your home now.
If you have need of me I will be in the dojo.”
The fusama had no sooner
shut than it slid open, servants delivering several elaborately
lacquered chests filled with all the belongings from both his
father's house and Jun's simple rooms. The message was clear, his old
life was over.
He ignored the remains of
his past, choosing to explore his new prison. The house was set in
the traditional square pattern. The front wing contained public
rooms, pristine tatami and the sparse but elegant decoration hinted
that these were rarely used. His room and the room of his new master
were in the right hand wing. To the left he found the kitchen and
servants quarters. The inner walls all slid open to reveal the
courtyard, the outer walls opened onto an encircling hallway whose
outer walls also opened onto an engawa. In the summer all the doors
could be opened to allow cross breezes, keeping it cool and
comfortable even when the weather turned sultry.
Across the back stretched
a massive training hall. Racks of weaponry and highly polished floors
made it clear this room was well-used. Hiroshi watched as his new
master went through a series of elaborate kata, each movement crisply
precise, his gaze turned inward. His eyes lingered on Kenshin,
tracing broad shoulders down a muscular back to a narrow waist. He
couldn't help but wonder if the ass hidden inside baggy hakama was as
well-developed as the rest of the man. Hiroshi shook his head to
clear it of such thoughts, trying to hit on the man in charge of his
life was probably the quickest way to guarantee he'd never again be
free.
Kenshin finished the last
of his kata, bowing to the shrine at the end of the room before
turning to address his new pupil. “Are you getting settled in
alright?”
"As well as can be
expected on such short notice. Once my father decides on something
there isn't much time to wrap your mind around it. In his world delay
is a weakness.”
"It was as unexpected
for me as it was for you,” Kenshin admitted. “I will try to make
the transition as painless as possible.”
"So what, exactly, will
we be doing?” Hiroshi knew he should have paid more attention to
his father's lectures. The martial arts had always struck him as
vulgar. When talk turned to battle he usually retreated into his own
mind. Now he found himself at a disadvantage.
"How much training have
you had?”
"The minimum I could
get away with.” The admission wasn't easy. A man of his age and
position should be competent in all the disciplines, yet Hiroshi
could barely wield a blade. “I can ride well enough, and I've
mastered some basic sword kata. Beyond that I'm hopeless.”
"I hardly imagine
you're hopeless. Uninterested, perhaps.” Kenshin turned sharp eyes
on his new apprentice. Hiroshi certainly had the physique to be a
superior warrior, not terribly tall, but nicely proportioned and
well-muscled. In hand to hand combat he would have a decided
advantage. “Tomorrow morning we will start training in earnest.
First we should talk about expectations, yours and mine.”
"I expect to be
miserable.”
"I sincerely hope not.
Your father expects me to train you, but I have no intention of being
a tyrant about it. We will assess your strengths and work on those
areas. At your age anything else would require too much
backtracking.”
Hiroshi slumped against a
support pillar, relief rushing through him. “Thank kami. I was
afraid I would punished for my lack of skill.”
"That would be
counterproductive. Neither children or adults learn well from
punishment.” Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to
open up the more personal part of the discussion. “What do you know
of masters and their apprentices?”
"Not much. Most of the
apprentices I've seen have been boys. I've never heard of anyone
taking a student of my age.”
"That's true. Usually
by the time a boy reaches adulthood he goes off on his own, although
master and apprentice generally remain close. In your case, however,
your father believes this arrangement will be beneficial to both of
us.”
"Well, I can certainly
see the benefit to him.” Hiroshi tried, and failed, to mask the
bitterness washing through him. “And I guess it will be of benefit
to me, assuming, that is, I ever find myself in a battle. I have to
admit I am more likely to run in the opposite direction. What I don't
see is any benefit to you. An unwanted intruder who will take up most
of your time and energy isn't something most people would wish for.”
Kenshin took a deep
breath to steady himself. “There is another aspect to our
relationship. One which your father considered before asking me to
undertake your training. Have you heard of wakashudo?”
"Old men taking
advantage of boys.” The disdain Hiroshi felt toward such a thing
was obvious.
"Masters and
apprentices sharing love,” Kenshin corrected him. “I had such a
relationship with my master and I assure you, I was never taken
advantage of. I loved him and he loved me.”
"I am neither a child
or a woman. I will not be used in such a fashion.”
"So you prefer to give?
I know about your dalliance. Sex with a man is no mystery to you.”
"I am a man, of course
I prefer the dominant position.” Hiroshi straightened, preparing to
defend himself from being forcibly taken. “So, you see, we are at
an impasse.”
"I will not pressure
you into anything,” Kenshin assured him. “Although your father
hoped that I could turn you away from your lover.”
"My beloved is
beautiful and graceful, a talented performer in and out of bed. I can
only hope he will forgive me for abandoning him without even a
goodbye.”
"Some things are beyond
our control. Surely your lover can understand that. If not, perhaps
he is not worthy of your devotion.”
"It is I who am not
worthy.” Hiroshi dropped his head, stress was muddling his thoughts
at the moment he could least afford it. “I am resigned to this
apprenticeship. In time, perhaps, we will become friends. I could
certainly use one.”
"That is all anyone
could ask for.” Kenshin stepped forward and clasped forearms with
his new student. “Enough talk. I, for one, could use a good soak. I
will be in the furo if you care to join me.”
* * *
Jun woke in an unfamiliar
room with a stranger leaning over him. Panic surged and he struggled
to push himself away from the threat.
"Don't.” A hand
pushed down on his chest, keeping him in place. The image in front of
him resolved into a wizened old woman. “I have done what I can, but
you are still hurt. Stay as still as you can so you don't undo all my
work.”
"Thank you for your
kindness, but I will be fine on my own,” Jun insisted.
"You were near death.
Relax and let yourself recover. No one will bother you here.” She
lifted a small bowl to his lips. “Drink, it will help with the
pain.”
He downed the contents,
questions bursting in his brain. “Who are you? Where am I?”
"My name is Aoi. I'm a
healer. Your neighbor saw the soldiers leaving your house and went to
check on you. It is good he brought you here, without treatment you
would surely have died.” She turned away and ladled broth into a
bowl. “I had almost given up hope. It has been several days, and
this is the first time you have been conscious.”
"I owe you a debt I
cannot repay.” He sunk back into the futon and shut his eyes,
feigning sleep while he contemplated his new turn of circumstance.
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