by Sessha Batto
“I thought he was kidding.” The assassin fell heavily against the counter. “Shit, I can’t sleep with the Shuhan, it’d be a sacrilege or something.”
“Of course you can,” Daisuke said with a chuckle as he came up behind his lover and kissed him on the cheek. “I may even assign it to you as a punishment. You can be my night guard.”
“Very funny,” Souta replied.
“It's a real position,” Tatsuya jumped in, “and you’d actually be a good choice. It's obvious Daisuke's comfortable with having you around.”
“Although I don’t know why,” the instructor remarked wryly as he pulled the milk out of the fridge, only to find the carton was empty.
“Oops,” the assassin exclaimed. “I meant to buy another one. Sorry, Dai.”
“It's okay, Sou. But shouldn’t you hurry up and get dressed? You’re holding everything up. After all, I wouldn’t want my boyfriend to miss such a big event in my life.”
“Uh, right.” The elite wandered back into the bedroom to find some clothes.
“Is this going to be a problem?” Daisuke asked, indicating himself and his departed lover.
“No … no,” Tatsuya assured him, waving his hands in front of his face. “I was just a bit surprised. I thought you guys didn’t like each other. You’re always chewing Souta out for something whenever I see you.”
“That's how I know he loves me,” the assassin chuckled as he sidled up behind his lover and wrapped strong arms around his waist. “Right, Dai?”
“Are you finally ready?” the instructor replied. “Let's go if we’re going to do this.”
****
Makoto woke with a start. Must have fallen asleep, he decided, noting that the fire had burned down to flickering embers. He glanced down at the lanky form still curled up against his chest. What's going on inside that head of yours, Takahashi? He ran his fingers across the exposed flesh of the shadow wolf's arm, noting the difference in texture between the satiny cream colored ribbons of scar tissue and the silky alabaster flesh.
I just hope you recognize me soon, it's getting harder and harder to say no to you. The shadow wolf mumbled in his sleep, nuzzling his face into the crook of the torture master's neck. Hot breath gusted over the sensitive flesh and sent a shiver through the interrogator's frame.
Yoshi suddenly turned, propping himself up on one elbow as he studied a nervous Makoto with sharp, unreadable eyes. “Just checking,” he muttered before laying back down and instantly dropping back to sleep, leaving the interrogator awake to dwell on all the ways the man currently using him as a pillow could kill him, should he decide to do so. Makoto finally drifted back to sleep as he passed five hundred, his last thought that, while moving was probably smart, he was warm and comfortable and there were worse ways to die.
****
The last Takahashi shivered in his sleep as he remembered all the times he’d been left behind. His mother had gone when he was only four, lost on an assignment. He couldn’t even remember what she’d looked like, just the press of her soft, sweet smelling cheek against his as she headed out.
His father's passing he remembered all too well, haunted by guilt that it was somehow his fault. He’d watched the strong warrior slip further and further away, and it hadn’t helped that he’d consciously pulled back himself, unwilling to be tainted by whatever was making the older Takahashi's life a misery.
The shadow wolf whimpered in his sleep, tossing his head as a vision of the once mighty shinobi lying in a pool of his own blood assaulted his mind. He’d tried so hard to stop the bleeding, too young and traumatized to realize it was already far too late. “I’m sorry ‘tousan, I didn’t mean it,” he heard his child-self sob. “Please don’t leave me.”
His squad was next. Gone long before Yoshi realized how much such a loss would hurt, and etching the first age lines into his face. The signs of wear were a constant reminder of just how dangerous it was for him to get close to anyone.
And then came Oonishi-sama, the master who had cared for him after Ren's suicide. That was the hardest loss of all. More of a father than even his own, his shishou had opened his home and his family to the young apprentice after his father's suicide. The death of his beloved master was hard enough. The fact that he died saving the shadow wolf, falling to an attack intended for the young elite, convinced the already reclusive nin that he was a curse to anyone who got too close.
After Oonishi-sama's death the Shuhan had cast him in his new role, guaranteeing he’d never again allow anyone close.
The shadow wolf curled up tighter, clinging to Makoto's chest like a lifeline as he recalled those hectic days. Newly appointed to black ops, he stuffed his sorrow behind the black mask and reported for duty. He readily acquiesced to the ki binding Kobayashi-sama placed on him, duty outweighing his sense that something was very wrong.
The hard price of genius meant Yoshi never interacted with children his own age. He always found their pursuits too babyish, while those at his skill level refused to associate with someone so much younger. Thus he reached the age of fifteen without any real understanding of intimate relations, and never even considered that such things were possible between two men.
“What do you know of the needs of men, Yoshi?” Kobayashi-sama had asked. He’d never forget the old man's response when he’d admitted his ignorance. “Well then, we’ll just have to show you,” the Shuhan had muttered before ordering him to strip.
When the shadow wolf finally stood naked and mortified before his leader he instantly obeyed the voice of authority telling him to kneel, never expecting the hard hands that buried themselves in his hair as an even harder cock was forced down his throat. By the time he was shoved to his knees the teenager was in a state of shock, unable to process the conflicting feelings rocketing through him. When the old man buried himself in his virgin entrance Yoshi shut down, concentrating on the familiar feeling of pain to anchor him in this unnerving situation.
He shivered harder as flashes of that initiation came back to haunt him, wondering, as always, what it was about him that caused such a reaction. When Kobayashi-sama had finally finished with him the Shuhan brusquely ordered him to dress and sent him on his first assignation, two weeks as a ‘special diplomatic envoy’ to the Mochizuki shuudan's leader.
Makoto stirred as the elite's movements became more frantic. The shadow wolf's time with the Mochizuki leader had been particularly distressing, forever wedding the concepts of pain and pleasure in the mind of the last Takahashi. He’d had his first whipping there, hard on the heels of the utter embarrassment of being offered to the Shuhan's guests as a plaything.
There had been a young medic, the elite had a vague memory of a teen with hair a shade or two darker than tree bark and kind eyes. He had sworn he’d rescue Yoshi, but his promises were for naught. By the time his two weeks were through the shadow wolf swore never to believe anyone's promises again, it wasn’t worth the pain of disappointment.
“It's alright, Takahashi-san.” The torture master gently stroked matted strands from his face. “You’re safe. I’m here and I won’t leave you.” The restless elite quieted at the sound of his voice, fingers clutching Makoto's coat in a death grip.
Yoshi's mind continued to torment him by replaying the worst moments of those years. Bloody assassinations bled into painful assignations, and neither extreme gave him any assurance of his humanity.
The young shadow wolf had been the lynch-pin cementing fragile alliances, spending time with the leaders of all the rival shuudan. If Mochizuki taught him pain, Iwagashi taught him extremes, taking two cocks, a fist, being bathed in piss. Patience was the gift that remained. His mind shied away from his time in the barren hall of the Kai, the Kai no Shuhan's tastes were … specialized. There Yoshi found himself tightly bound and penetrated with a variety of toys and devices. He let out a low pained cry as he relived the first time something had been inserted into the slit of his penis, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes as the remembered p
ain and fear coursed through him.
“Sshhhhhh,” Makoto crooned. “I’ve got you, Yoshi. You’re safe, no one will hurt you. I swear to you.”
Some part of the slumbering elite's mind latched on to that voice, taut muscles relaxing minutely.
“It's just a dream,” the deep rumble continued. “You’re safe here with me.”
That's right, Jubo has me. A smile sketched its way across the shadow wolf's face. He’ll keep me safe. His brief moment of happiness quickly slipped away. If you knew everything I’ve done, would you still call me beautiful?
So much time had just slipped by. On three or four occasions each year Yoshi would pass silently out of the enclave, only to return haggard and drawn several weeks later. When Kobayashi-sama died a part of him rejoiced, even as he damned himself for his disloyalty.
If I’d only known. The thought resonated through the elite's mind. His frown deepened as he recalled the heady freedom of those few brief days. Until she came. Rin, the current Kobayashi no Shuhan, and the bane of his existence. She had declared him an outmoded relic, too blood-thirsty and unpredictable for the field. Instead, she pressed him into duty full time, using the shadow wolf's body to settle her debts and finance her lifestyle.
He twitched and growled, fists tightening as he thought of the kunoichi. Yoshi finally jerked awake to find himself cradled gently against a broad chest as a massive hand stroked his hair. “You’re safe. I won’t let you go.” The comforting growl had him peering intently at the shadowed form, recognition simmering in the corners of his mind.
****
“Wait a second,” Daisuke said, pulling to a halt outside the doors to the Shuhan's office. “Souta, are you okay with this?”
“Huh?” the assassin responded eloquently.
“There are too many ways for a shinobi to lose someone that he can’t control. I won’t willingly choose to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me, Dai, I promise,” his lover assured him, giving the instructor's hand a squeeze of support. “Now stop stalling.”
Surprisingly, the swearing in took only a few minutes. The new Shuhan's head was still reeling from the enormity of his responsibilities and he stumbled over to the massive desk, plopping himself down in the comfortable chair. Daisuke looked around the spacious office, heart falling further at the sight of the jumbled piles of paperwork stacked on every flat surface. “I don’t think a single piece of paper has left this office since Rin took over,” he said in a voice halfway between wonder and despair. “It’ll take me months to get this straightened out.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have months, Shuhan-sama. We’ll take turns. Two of us will be here to help you each day until we can figure out where we stand,” Hoshu assured him as the other clan heads nodded their agreement. “Right now, we need to make the announcement. If you will please follow me.”
The group moved to the balcony. A sizable crowd was already assembled below, having gathered when the flag indicating the appointment of a new Shuhan was raised. “Brothers and sisters of Kobayashi shuudan,” Hoshu announced. “Rin has been removed from office and is being held for trial on charges of treason.” He paused to let the news sink in before continuing. “I am very pleased to announce the appointment of a new Shuhan, a man I’m sure you will all be happy to pledge your loyalty to. Sato Daisuke, the new Kobayashi no Shuhan.”
The crowd exploded, cheers and applause rising to the startled young man's ears. He had not expected his appointment to be met with such approval. “Say something, Daisuke,” Tatsuya whispered, nudging him with his elbow.
“Oh, right,” Daisuke mumbled before stepping to the front and gesturing for silence. “My fellow shinobi, I am honored to be chosen for this office. I pledge my undying loyalty to every one of you, and I promise to do my best to right the wrongs that took place under the previous leadership. Thank you all so much for your trust and support. I give you my word they will not be misplaced.” His eyes hardened as he recalled, yet again, the reasons behind his appointment.
With that he stepped back into the office and began to sort through the paperwork on his desk, intent on finding any information relating to Yoshi. “Hoshu,” the Shuhan ordered, “you start over there. Tatsuya, you can take the pile by the couch. Sou-chan,” he whispered sultrily to his lover. “Look through these.” He dropped a heavy stack of files in the unsuspecting assassin's lap. “Anything about Takahashi give it to me. Don’t read it.”
Four hours later Daisuke was nearly ready to abandon his quest and go question Rin. “This one's labeled Takahashi,” Souta announced, shoving a manila folder into the new Shuhan's hands. “Now can we go home?”
Daisuke was already pouring over the contents, eyes hardening as he read the details of Yoshi's service. “It's worse than we thought. Not a single paid assignment in three years. He sold his family house two years ago. Since then he's been living in the smallest apartment in the bachelor quarters. He's two months in arrears and about to be kicked out.”
“I’ll go talk to the landlord,” Tatsuya offered.
“And I’ll go find out what happened with his house,” Hoshu added through pursed lips.
After they left, Souta wrapped his arms around his lover. “So, just what is going on with Takahashi?”
“Yes Daisuke, do tell, what's happening with Yoshi?” a deep voice broke in from the doorway. “While you’re at it, perhaps you'd care to explain why you are traipsing around in Rin's office?”
The new Shuhan turned his head to see a tall, muscular man with a long thick mane of white hair. His clothes were wrinkled and dusty, and tiredness was etched in the lines of his face. The traveler stepped further into the room and dropped his heavy pack with a relieved grunt.
“Oh, Genki-sama.” The startled Shuhan pushed away from his boyfriend as he turned to face the Wolf Mountain Sage. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Obviously. Now, what is going on here?”
“Rin has been charged with treason because of this.” Daisuke slapped a file into the startled man's hands. “Read it. Then I’ll be willing to talk with you.”
The sage leaned against the door frame and began quickly skimming through the folder, slowing to a stunned halt as he neared the end. “Is this for real?”
“Daisuke doesn’t have any reason to lie to you,” Souta countered, pulling out a poisoned senbon and flicking it deftly from finger to finger as he waited for a reason to use it.
“What the hell was Rin thinking?” Genki muttered as he sank back against the wall for support. “Where is she?”
“She's in the holding cells downstairs until Makoto gets back,” the Shuhan explained. “He went to retrieve Takahashi-san.”
“Can I see her?” the sage asked. “I need to hear her say it.”
“Yes, but you’ll have to submit to whatever security the clan heads have set up. She won’t be escaping on my watch.”
****
Kenta slumped on his bed deep inside Nakamura shuudan's hidden complex. He couldn’t believe it. It was so frustrating to be so close to his heart's desire, only to have it once again snatched away. He laid back and shut his eyes, mind going back to the first time he’d seen the shadow wolf.
His hand went to his already stirring arousal as he pictured the things he had seen during his apprenticeship in Mochizuki shuudan. Kenta imagined how it would feel to have that lean body stretched taut across his lap, spanking creamy cheeks until they bloomed red.
He stroked himself, drawing out the pleasure as he pictured an elegant long-fingered hand in place of his own. He gasped as he slowly circled his thumb over the tip, erection pulsing as he imagined pale lips wrapped around his straining cock. I’m sorry it took so long, precious. He tried to envision what that handsome face would look like in the throes of ecstasy. The dark haired nin bit his lip and slowed his strokes as his mind replayed things he had seen Yoshi do during his service, adding a sharp twist of his wrist as he visualized burying himself in the elite ninja's tight
heat.
On his knees, the illusionist's apprentice mused, remembering the sight of a long pale back arched in passion. No, I need to see his face.
Kenta picked up the pace, hand flying over his length, head tipped back in ecstasy. His seed poured over his hand as he came with a growl of Yoshi's name.
Kazuki stood hidden in the shadow of the doorway, playing with a strand of his hair. A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He watched his apprentice's actions as he pondered how close he was to his goal. Soon, Rin will be here, then I’ll have her powers at my command, and a splendid new ki reservoir. He thought about the shadow wolf, eyes lighting as the slight quirk of his lips stretched into a broad sadistic grin. Pity you’ll be unnecessary.
****
I know that voice. Yoshi peered at the large figure cradling him, unconsciously leaning into the hand smoothing his matted locks. “Sasaki-san?”
“You know me,” Makoto whispered, raising a hand and tilting the shadow wolf's head to face him. “I’ve been worried.”
The elite leaned against a broad chest as the interrogator's hand continued stroking his hair. “Where are we?”
“A few hours outside Kanegawa. I came to retrieve you. Your assignment has been canceled. Rin is no longer Shuhan of Kobayashi shuudan. No one will be using you anymore.”
“Who?” Yoshi husked.
“I don’t know who they chose. I left to get you as soon as it was decided,” Makoto explained as he ran a hand over his head. “Does it really matter? Anyone would be better than that bitch.”
“Why you?” the shadow wolf asked.
“Because I couldn’t stand to see you hurt anymore. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
Yoshi smiled at the response before shaking his head. Unfortunately, his fate had been decided years ago and he couldn’t imagine it changing, although it warmed his frozen heart to think that Makoto would want to. “You don’t need to worry about me Sasaki-san, although I’m grateful you care enough to try.”
