Loss of a Lord [complete]

[Nakamura Omi]

The smell of wood and rice paper burning the inside of his nose, down his throat and into his lungs was an oddly familiar sensation that he had hoped to not reflect upon twice. The streaking cinders landing upon the dark textures of the silks and cottons of his clothes and sheets; at first he had thought the surrealism of the raining gold lights were a dream, but then the pain of a glowing rain drop on his eye lid had blinded him into a clumsy awakening. Ungracefully he had rolled out of the imploding roof structure that landed upon where he had been sleeping just moments before, and cutted through the burning rice paper walls to get into the main room.

He saw a flutter of dark purple-tinted hair from the side of his eye as he had stepped out into the hall, half naked against the heat of the inferno behind him. Daiki, his partner Chûnin, had awakened the others long before Omi himself had been warned. The ninja that was 16 years his elder had turned to him with a look of disturbed placidity about him. Not the usual light-hearted soul.. but a calmness that few seldom saw, even during an espionage Daiki did not have this seriousness about him.

”The Lord is dead,” Daiki had mouthed, his voice unheard in the roar of flames. And that was the last message from his partner as support beam fell between them and all Omi could do was step back and out of sight of his friend.

He couldn’t leave without his weapons… he could not get any more for awhile if he simply left them to burn. He had had these weapons the majority of his lifetime and his materialism would not allow him to leave that part of himself behind. So that was when Om turned back around to his room. The lack of rice paper on the doors made the wood look like a curling naked skeleton against the blazing firelight, looking grotesque... as though the house had been stripped of skin and the inside wooden structures were burning alive with the movements of the flames. And still he went back.

A wall had fallen on him; the side of the wall that had hit him was not burning, but the other side was, part of the roof falling down with it. With the sheer weight of the building on his back, he was sure he had heard something crack in his ribs when he plummeted to the floor. It had been hard to breathe before, now it was impossible. The ninja has had the air forced out of his lungs, so he could not even hold his breath. Gaze flashing with spots in front of his eyes, he was sure that he would black out, but something else had turned on in his brain.

Somehow, he had recalled the instinct of pushing the wall off… the burning edge licking behind his neck and upper back as he threw the weight off him. Crawling forward… he could see the glint of his weapons hidden in the wall.. and brought himself painfully to his feet. It was as though his conscious thought had left him… he wasn’t even thinking anymore, blinded by the pain of fire on his back. Maybe he was on fire, he wasn’t even sure, but all that mattered was he got his weapons and getting out…

So, while his logic had left him.. he reached forward and grabbed the heated metal of the Shuko Claws, instantly dropping them on contact with the exposure to his skin. Omi fell onto one knee to instantly pick them back up with his other hand, gripping the metal tightly with his gloved hand, instead of his naked one. The pain of his hand obliterated in the white noise of pain that came from his back, it felt so impossible to even think of where he was… or what he was doing. What was he doing again?

That was when his memory had left him..

He had somehow gotten out… his weapons huddled to his chest with on arm like that of a mother holding a child. Crawling across the grass in the land behind the Lord’s house… he saw the figures of foreigners entering the giant bonfire that was once his home. He had simply lay there, unable even find the strength to roll onto his back.. though later reflecting upon this… if he had rolled onto his back, it would of probably made things ten times worse.. but instead resting his head on a tree root. Trying to find the oxygen to catch his breath.

The figures had not seen him yet… and that is when he was realizing what had happened. The Shogun had learned of the whereabouts of his Lord’s home. At this point… Omi didn’t mind so much at the loss of the Lord, he was not loyal to him, but to his own leader. All he wondered if Shimizu was all right… if Daiki got out.

Daiki’s tall figure standing in the hallway of a hungry fire… black eyes boring deep into Omi with a disappointment of what had happened. Omi couldn’t help put smile to himself in a bitter hysteria at the image of his friend. “The Lord id dead.” Pressing his forehead into the root of a tree… dirt crusting his saliva ridden lips as his consciousness then fell into nothing.

[Asai Yuudai]

It was hard to ignore a light that placed the dark skies ablaze. Over the years of sleepless nights Yuudai saw nothing more horrific. He recalled standing alone staring up at the full moon, trying to calculate tomorrow's plans until a foreign light flickered. Cold. the thoughts ran through, his eyes closing tightly away from the warning signs. Yuudai figured it was his eyes playing tricks on him within the darkness. However, his sensory had been frayed by smoke. At last his eye reopened and his head snapped in the direction of a loud snapping noise. Almost like a house was burning down. Damnit. Yuudai knew something was terribly wrong.

Never had he known his legs to move faster as he trampled through the Asai household, kicking figures awake with his form and affirmably alerting them of a large fire. Some were frantic and alert but they gave no second thought to following Yuudai out into the chill of the night. Fires happened often, so he only took a group of five men with him and left the others to their sleep. At his signal they were prepared to mount their horses and took off in the direction of the smoke and light. Within no less than ten minutes did they arrive to burnt down of the Takashi clan. Nothing was left, literally, nothing. Without a second thought he slid off his horse and looked to the men that stood in shock.

"Search for survivors," Yuudai commanded bitterly. They nodded in unison and scattered to do what they were told. It wasn't too hard to see the surroundings, picking out pieces of the house and burnt scrolls. Thankfully, there was still some light from the fire and the moonlight to aid them. He moved forward, using his foot to search for something that might give him a clue as to what happened. So far there was nothing. Not even a corpse. He was about to turn and continue back to his horse until he noticed something glint from the fire's faint light.

Yuudai turned and started in that direction, squinting his eyes to try and make out any details. He figured it was a weapon and as he got closer he found that he was correct. However, the glint was his least concerned compared to the figure that was curled against the root of the tree. No matter how much he had hoped the figure was alive, he approached the character as though he was dead. When he reached the figure he slowly kneeled down and glanced at the face of Omi. Yuudai had no idea this person would enter his life more with full force. Hesitantly he reached his hand over to slowly place his bare fingers to the male's neck. There was pulse but it was faint.

It shocked him to think the flesh would be so warm and as he got a closer look he noticed the man was struggling to breathe. Shit, he must be suffocating.. With both hands did he turn the figure over and onto his back. Hastily did he tilt the other's chin back and he leaned in to slowly place his ear next to the figure's mouth. He felt the faintest of breath on his cheek. Yuudai snapped back and slowly glanced around but saw none of his men near by. He would act accordingly. With his right arm he slowly weaved it under the man's waist to slowly sit Omi up right. Once he was sure he had the other secure and stable he stood up and started off in the direction of his horse.

When he got there his men gave him a bewildered look and slowly took the man from his arms. Yuudai mounted his horse while the others assisted Omi onto the saddle as well. "No other survivors?" he fit in quickly while he turned his horse towards the direction of the Asai household.

"None," the tallest of the group answered, while the rest shook their head no.

Without a minute to spare Yuudai left towards home. The cold air felt nice compared to sitting around the remains of the house..he felt smothered in that sorrowful area. When he arrived to his designation he got off the horse to slowly place the stranger over his back, carrying him in the direction of his room. Still, he figured there was no reason to wake the household because of one dying life. Just as quiet as before he set the stranger down on his bed before tediously stripping Omi's clothing, knowing the charcoaled material could further irritated their senses. Setting the clothing aside he turned to leave the room.

In his hands was a pair of new clothing with pail of water while clothes were wrapped around the handles. He set them both down near to the other's head and kneeled down next to the pail. Dipping one of the cloths into the water he slowly leaned in to wipe at Nakamura's face, removing the soot that was caked to his flesh. Yuudai did this over the rest of the limbs but before he finished he picked at the dried leaves out of Omi's hair before wetting the strands, combing out the invisible dirt. This task took at least a hour to do and he was pleased to have the survivor clothed and neatly tucked into thin blankets.

Now the only thing left is the waiting.. he stared at the stranger's face, hoping to see some movements. "You better not die," he voiced aloud, for he would be very annoyed if his efforts went to waste.

[Nakamura Omi]

He had hoped that he had woken up in his own room, in his own bed again. It was a living, breathing nostalgia… forgetting where he was… when he let his hazy gaze stare hypnotically past half-heartedly risen eyelids. His body felt as though it were completely missing, weighed down and numb-feeling. He was only a floating head.

Where he was… Omi was unsure. Why he was there, what had happened the night before didn’t even cross his mind. It was like his brain couldn’t rewind, couldn’t really think correctly at first. And then he began to pick up the pieces of thought and fit them together; his double vision finally focusing on the wooden lines of the oriental ceiling.

”…” A rock was placed on his chest, swallowing his breath and muting his voice. That he was sure of at first, but it was the smoke… oh the smoke. He remembered that. Oh yes, he could remember now.

The heaviness of the air made Omi wonder if it had rained, though unsure since his sense of smell was replaced with a charred burning of hair, unable to detect the all too familiar smell of water in the air. That is when he finally wondered.. ..where am I?.

The scratchy bandages on his burnt left hand and back, a silk lined blanket, a hard wooden surface that was his bed. His head hurt, there wasn’t much light in the room. The room was rather ugly, now that he noticed. Yellow colors made him feel nauseated. Grasping the reality of where he was, how he felt… he then realized that someone was watching him. His senses kicked back in again, despite being layered in a migraine, he knew someone was right there… to his left.

His volition to simply turn his neck muscles and pull the weight of his large head seemed more than a chore than he could of imagined; a ‘thunk’ of his temple to the wood made him wince mentally at the loud noise of his own skull. Focusing dark brown eyes to a figure in the corner.. he squinted slightly to take in the features of what looked like a woman. No… a man. No surely female...

”….” Omi pondered this a moment, while his face did not make the expression of a thinking man, his eyes looked like they were in maelstrom. A hint of a raised eyebrow and an almond colored iris that reflected frustration was the only emotion the Ninja showed eloquently as if asking.. ’Who the hell are you… and why are you here?’ He simply stared in silence.

He observed… this person was in fact... a man.

[Asai Yuudai]

His head was craned to the left while emotionless eyes stared at the wall of the room. Whenever he engaged into an action he would remain faithful to completing the task and that consisted a long wait- a wait for the stranger's awakening. Even if there was nothing to really watch besides the man in his bed, he would imagine himself else where. A place with no boundaries and faint memories that made him move forward. Thunk? Yuudai repeated in his head, eyes slowly adjusting to stare down at Omi.

That idiot! Doesn't he know he's injured? Both of his hands reached out and rested on the ground. He was leaning in to stare at Omi's face while supporting himself. Sighing, he weighed himself on his left hand so his right hand could reach for Nakamura's chin to slowly tilt it back up right. "Focus on the ceiling," his voice indicated no annoyance. "You don't want to strain yourself, do you?" he wavered the consequences the stranger may face if he dared to move again. Once he was done scolding Omi he sat himself back up.

"You're in the Asai household," he told the other as though he was reading his mind. "Perhaps you caught a strain of amnesia but I am not here to tolerate an injured man who refuses to accept help. Besides, you're in my bed." The lids of his eyes lowered slightly, trying to fight off the nagging weight of sleep. He had sat here all night without his routine five hours of rest and was starting to get agitated. Not to mention he was sitting on his knees far too long. And to relieve the aching he curved himself back while moving his right foot out to rest it against Omi's torso, nudging him once or twice.

Yuudai's brows rose and his head tilted back to watch the ceiling - he didn't care to see a reaction to his taunting. "Your house and your men perished in that fire - I sympathize for your loss," and even his own words made him recoil his disrespectful actions. He moved his foot aside, allowing a thin frown to show on his pallid lips. Tired, cold.. he complained, rolling his head to slowly sit right back up to stare down at Omi's face. His green eyes seemed to be ripping within the stranger's stare, like he was searching for his name beyond the sheets of almond.

He isn't even arguing with me, no, he can't speak - the fumes must've irritated his throat too much.. Yuudai's lips parted at his own cruelty towards the injured victim. "Water?" he offered, "It's cold."

[Nakamura Omi]

The brown gaze liquidly followed the Asai’s movements as he hovered above his battered form, Omi not even lifting his head to get a better view of the man, though his eyes rested on him in a focused and unblinking fashion, lids half closed and watching in a dead silent patience as the other spoke.

At the word of ‘water’ he felt instantly dehydrated, sucked cleaned and simply dry from the inside out. The rooted frustration reflected in the conjured glare in his hypnotic stare, but then he closed his eyes again – dismissing the glare as quickly as it had come. His head simply lay on its side, dead for the moment.

Tightening the cords of flesh of his neck, he then rolled his skull onto its back to stare at the constant ceiling. Omi’s immobile features of his statue-like face had found a will of expression, the parched lips splitting to finally force something up through the vocal cords and to whistle the scratchy, inhuman tone into the air, “…they…are not dead…”

His brown eyes lost their luster a moment then, as though something worse dawned upon him with this conclusion. A double meaning… His train of thought skipped a beat again, the negative dawning brushed off like an annoying mosquito. Omi stretched his cracked lips in a weak smile, the black charred skin of his mouth made it almost impossible to distinguish the smirk, but it was there.

He had forgotten his manners. The man had saved his life after all. It was best to ask, wasn’t it?

”Omi.. is my name,” he said with a short breath, speaking from deep within his throat, the tone echoing up the cavern that was his mouth, “What is yours..?” His eyes rolled in his head, turning over to look at the man that looked like a woman, offering a blackened grin.

[Asai Yuudai]

Yuudai's eyes closed when Omi suggested a psychological defect in the terms of denial. He took in a swift breath, his chest rising as he allowed the stranger to piece himself together. It was no use to argue with a mentally unstable man, which would only add to their incoherency. Omi? he repeated in his head, eyes fluttering open to watch the man once more. Finally his form drifted back to settle in a more relaxed position.

"Asai Yuudai," he introduced, no expression there to respond to the other's smile. Without any more hesitation he turned to slowly pour the water into a small cup. Then he started to scoot himself closer to the man, his left hand moving to rest under Omi's head. Yuudai lifted the man's head and slowly placed the cup to the dried lips. He felt no need to warn the other that he was going to pour the contents into his mouth. Once he was done with that he tossed the cup aside and slowly rested the other's head down onto his knees. "I thought I told you to not move your head," he said, deciding his knees would do if the man wanted to look at something other than the ceiling.

"However," came an interval, "your men are dead and I refuse to hide that truth from you. You can swallow it like a man or drown yourself in meaningless thoughts - you know, if you do, those thoughts would never bring them back." Yuudai wanted to cut his own tongue out after speaking such horrible words but the truth did hurt. And in these times any minute wasted sulking could place more lives at stake.

Idly, his right hand rested down to slowly move Omi's hair away from his face. Noticing what he was doing he slowly stopped and decided to rest his palm over the other's forehead, feeling for a fever or a high temperature. There was none. At least he's not dying. "I suggest getting some more rest," he told Omi, wanting the other's recovery to be quick so he could leave.

[Nakamura Omi]

Honorable hero thought Omi at once, remembering the meaning of the name that was also his cousin’s name, Nakamura Yuudai, a small skeletal looking man that had the anger of a typhoon. His cousin had none of the attributes of this man… well, none to view of a naked eye.

An idle thought that he would ponder on later, Omi took in the sight of the man’s brilliant emerald eyes, an attribute that is rarely seen in a world dominated by blacks and browns. The movements looked to be well thought out and quick, obviously a fighter. Asai he said was his name… Alliance of Asai and Takashi. Something he had forever memorized and was embarrassed to have forgotten.

Omi closed his eyes slowly, taking a moment of darkness before opening them again to see Yuudai in a new light. He had never been involved in the affairs between the Asai Lord and Takashi. The involvement of an alleged assassin group did not need to situated in the central powers of their loyalty, did not need to know why they had been allied with the Asai or the reasons why their Lord had decided to oppose the Shogunate. The knowledge of the meaning behind their orders was not needed for their job. An assassin had one job and it was done in ignorance.

”...” He paused his thoughts as the other touched forehead, a movement that was gentle, yet fatigued. Had this man not rested? Omi did not notice the passing of his smile, his mind swimming in thought now. He simply stared at the man’s knees with no need to look at his face any further. “… I thank you for your kindness,” he began with a more defined tone, speaking to his knees , “…but be warned if what you say is true about my men.. The Shogunate may have followed you back… since they so conveniently left me alive.” His eyes stared off, before closing them. He did not comment on his displeasure to hear of the news… since there was no description of corpses laid to him just then. Maybe this Yuudai was giving him the mercy of not telling him of the mangled bodies of his friends, or maybe he himself was simply unsure. He hoped the ladder.

[Asai Yuudai]

"Heh," an amused noise came from Yuudai, "you give the Shogunate too much credit." Very suddenly did he lift the other's head from his lap and settle it back down on the bed. Although if the Shogunate had found out the location of the Takashi clan and finalize that they were against him - could that happen to the Asai clan as well? Removing the thoughts from his mind he slowly sat himself back and away from the other male.

Feeling fatigue he prompted his right elbow up to place his cheek in his open palm. Yuudai's head craned and stared at the floorboards of the room, breathing in calmly. It's almost light out? he noticed the darkness of the room lifting. Suddenly he shut his eyes tightly and scrunched his face before opening them back up to refocus his vision. Now it was a battle to stay awake. Perhaps I should tell someone so they can watch him instead - I can barely stay awake..

"Need anything?" he asked briefly, seeing if his assistance was really needed before waking someone to deal with the situation.

[Nakamura Omi]

He wondered if they had decided to give him a drug, unsure of the spots in front of his eyes were natural or from some sort of depressant. He simply let his heavy lids fall to dismiss the phenomenon of dizzying light, listening to the breathing of the other a moment and then as he spoke.

Omi reopened his eyes again, seeing the spots have temporary staved off. He smiled again at the other’s seriousness. It was a serious matter, but he highly doubted his friends were dead. He had so much more faith in them. Maybe it was blindingly optimistic, but he was the stupid one – going back for his weapons instead of getting out. He had been the last one to get out. The only one that was dead was Takahashi, he was the unknowledgeable one in the end. Much to be expected as the nature of a Lord.

His hypnotic gaze hovered on the ceiling for moment, contemplation of the other’s offer dimming the light of his irises. A moment or so passed and he then lowered his lids to speak. “I am not going to die tonight, or today,” he was unsure of the time of hour; he had long lost his sense of time. Omi slowly, with quite a bit of effort, lifted his arm from its cemented position at his side, bandaged hand sliding off the bed mat to rest his fingers gently upon the other knee. He then opened one eye so that the almond hue may rest upon the man, a smirk still ghosted upon his mouth. “Lay with me, so that I may prove a point and you lose no sleep over it. That is what I ask.”

[Asai Yuudai]

There was a stream of silence from Yuudai, feeling the lid of his right eye twitch in sleep deprivation. Omi's words were so easy and he was almost compelled to take up the suggested offer, to do it as easily as it sounded. Five hours with a stranger, just five hours.. he thought, the lids of his eyes closing as he shook his head no. Yuudai couldn't spend his time alone with Omi, afraid that his sleeping death would lead him to the real thing. "Can't," he mouthed, lids turning upward as he shifted to slowly stand to his feet.

"But I do believe you, however, your situation cannot be hidden from our leader," turning his back on Omi he reached for the door, sliding it open. Yuudai narrowed his eyes for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the little daylight. Reaching his left hand over he followed the wall leading outside of the door while moving his free hand up to create a shadow over his face. In his head he was counting the steps to his designation, until his hand suddenly stopped. His forefinger bent out and he slowly anchored it in-between the door, sliding it open but not too wide to allow the sunlight to eat the darkness.

Quietly he entered the room before shutting the door behind himself. Not even his breathing could be heard. As he stepped forward his gaze suddenly drifted down to stare at the figure curled up on his bed. Drawing closer he slowly kneeled down next to the figure, his right hand drawn out while his fingers curved towards the figure's neck, almost like he was going to choke him. "Yuu-san," he presently announced.

[Asai Yuuto]

The sliding of the shoji was slight, but Yuuto's sleeping mind processed it even before his dreamworld fizzled away. Battle instincts were ingrained into his body for a lifetime. Sleep couldn't dampen the general's awareness.

Yuuto's fingers involuntarily curled around a hidden tanto, and his muscles readied for conflict. But before he could lash out, higher order brain functions recognized a soft, low voice- a welcome presence. The familiar scent of water and clean rain settled in the night air, underlying the distinct aroma of acrid smoke.

One golden iris peered from beneath heavy lids. Feeling more than seeing, Yuuto batted the hand away from the vicinity of his throat.

"You'll be the one cleaning the futon in the morning," his voice was rough and slurred, "if you insist on bringing that odor to bed."

[Asai Yuudai]

Yuudai felt agitated when his cousin mentioned the word 'bed' - wanting to sleep in a bed but he couldn't because a delusional figure was there. Slowly, he curled his fingers into his palm and slowly inclined away from the other's side. "It is the morning," he said flatly, knowing Yuuto couldn't tell since it was dark in his room. Making himself comfortable in his position, he turned to stare at the door. "Apparently, by suspicion, the Shogun has burned down the Takahashi household there all but one survivor. Nakamura Omi. And?" Yuudai pressed, wanting an order so he could actually sleep.

His cousin couldn't see the smile on his face, wanting to chuckle at how keen Yuuto's senses were.

[Asai Yuuto]

"Dai-kun," he groaned, dragging his palms across shuttered eyes. "The proper response would be, 'good morning.' Or at the least something that isn't guaranteed to damn the rest of my day."

With a frustrated sigh, Yuuto's hands slid upward into dark auburn locks. His fingers left the hair a comical mess, but the elder Asai seemed unconcerned as he arched his back with feline grace. He tilted his chin toward Yuudai, regarding his cousin's solemn features through the graying light.

"Well, let's see this stray cat of yours." He struggled with lethargic limbs to sit upright and rearrange his yukata.

[Asai Yuudai]

Yuudai lifted his right hand and slowly itched his right cheek, listening to the movements behind him. Sometimes he forgot his place as well as his manners, for family and friend. "Good morning, Yuu-san," he said, moving both hands down to press himself up back in a stand. Yuudai approached the door, his left hand reaching out to rest against door while he turned to glance over his shoulder at his cousin.

"He can't stay," he said, eyes growing dark.

[Asai Yuuto]

Face scrunched through a yawn, Yuuto stood and shook his hair back into some semblance of its usual order. Sunrise light shafts glinted off the gold of his eyes, and he didn't even try to suppress the smirk that Yuudai's words wrought.

"Oh? And you have decided this yourself?" Yuuto's laugh was gentle in the dark corridor, his voice merely conversational in tone. "I suppose I am unneeded after all. Yuudai-kun is obviously more qualified."

They paused at the shoji to Yuudai's quarters, and Yuuto reached around his cousin to stop him from entering. His palm was dark against his younger cousin's, Yuuto's skin like bronze to Yuudai's ivory. The general smiled, but it was soft and fond- lacking the malice his cynical words would have usually held.