Shadow Wolf (Shinobi Saga)

by Sessha Batto

  “Kobayashi-sama was my father,” Daisuke said in a small, hopeless voice. “He never said anything, even after my mother’s death. He let me go to the orphanage with all the other unwanted children. When I was older though, we played shogi together. I thought we were close. Kami, what a fool I’ve been.”

  “It's alright, Dai, he's the one who missed out, not you.” Souta pulled the Shuhan into his arms. “It's all moot now anyway. They’re all dead, you’re safe here with me so just relax.” The assassin turned his head to address the sage. “Get out of here, Genki. He’ll talk to you later when he's had time to adjust.” With that abrupt dismissal he carefully wrapped an arm around quivering shoulders and guided his lover back to bed, climbing in with him and pulling the shivering form tight as he whispered words of comfort.

  “Do you think that's why I enjoyed training children, even the ones that were terrible?” Daisuke croaked when his tears stopped. “Am I a pedophile like my father?”

  “Oh, no, no, Dai, you are the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You would never, ever, do anything like that. This information doesn’t change who you are and you can’t start second guessing your life because of it.” Souta's mind devised painful tortures for the deceitful bastard who'd ruined so many lives. Too bad he's already dead, that's one job I would have gladly done for free.

  “Tatsuya,” the Shuhan gasped, yanking the elite out of his morbid train of thought. “He needs to know. We’re half-brothers.”

  “Do you want me to go find him?” Souta suggested. “I’ll snag him and bring him back here.”

  “No, I don’t want to be alone.” Daisuke replied in a tiny voice. “Send someone. Make sure Tatsuya knows it's important.”

  About twenty minutes later Kobayashi Tatsuya cautiously opened the doors to the Shuhan's office. “Hello, Daisuke, you wanted to see me?”

  “We’re in here.” Souta poked his head out of the apartment door. “Come on in. Would you like some sake?”

  “Sake in the daytime, I thought that was more your predecessor's style.” Tatsuya looked around for an ashtray, settling for flicking his ashes in his hand.

  “Genki found something in your father's journals that I think you should know.”

  “Are you alright?” Tatsuya asked. “You’re very pale and your hands are shaking. Whatever it is I’m sure it can wait for a better time.”

  “There won’t be a better time,” Daisuke replied with a shake of his head. “You deserve to know.” He pushed the journal into his hands, indicating the section in question. The elite easily deciphered his father's familiar writing, mouth dropping open in shock when he read the revelation contained within.

  “We’re brothers?” he gasped, cigarette falling unnoticed from his lips, only to be snatched up and snuffed out by a wary Souta.

  “Half-brothers. But I guess that's a moot point. Do you have any idea why he kept this a secret for so long?”

  “Besides the fact that my mother would have killed him, you mean?” Tatsuya replied. “I can’t believe that bastard did this to her. Sorry, Daisuke, no offense. It's just a little overwhelming.”

  “Tell me about it. I thought I’d heard all of the nasty secrets surrounding Kobayashi-sama, but this one really threw me for a loop. I never, ever anticipated anything like this.”

  “So now what?” the clan head asked. “Are you planning on telling anyone?”

  “No, like all of Kobayashi-sama's other secrets, this one would ruin his reputation, and that is something we can’t afford to have happen,” Daisuke decided. “I probably should have kept it to myself, but I thought you had the right to know.”

  “I’m sorry he never told you, Daisuke,” Tatsuya said. “You’re a good man and I’m proud to have you as a brother, even if it is a little late in life when we found out. I’d like to tell Mayu, if that's all right.”

  “Of course. Tell her I said hello.”

  “Thank you. Call me if you need anything.” He fumbled out and lit yet another cigarette. “By the way, when is Yoshi coming back? I really need to speak with him.”

  “We got a message from him a few days ago. He’ll be back in a couple months.” Souta was grateful for the change in topic as he could feel some of the tension leave his lover.

  “Oh, well then, I guess I’ll just see you guys later. We should all get together for dinner sometime soon. Let me talk to Mayu and we can work out a time,” Tatsuya suggested.

  “That would be nice,” the assassin replied. “I’m always up for dinner, especially if Mayu's cooking.”

  When the doors shut behind Tatsuya the Shuhan flew into his lover's arms. “I love you so much. You aren’t going to leave me now are you?”

  “Why would I leave you?”

  “Everything's complicated, and everyone knows about our relationship. It's just so different now, and I’m not the person you thought I was,” Daisuke stammered through his tears.

  “Oh, baby,” Souta whispered as he pulled his lover close and stroked his hair. “I don’t care about any of that. The only reason I kept us a secret was because I was afraid of the repercussions. I was never ashamed of you. I have every intention of spending the rest of our lives together.” He pulled his exhausted lover into bed and wrapped him in his arms, crooning comforting words until the younger man finally cried himself out and fell into a restless sleep.

  ****

  Tatsuya walked home on autopilot, his mind a million miles away as he pondered all the facts about his father that had come to light. “Mayu, I’m home. I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she replied as she kissed his cheek. “Dinner is almost ready. Get cleaned up and I’ll get it on the table.”

  “We need to talk,” he mumbled. “There are things you need to know.”

  Mayu's eyes widened. “Sweetheart, does this affect us?”

  “Well, maybe,” he decided. “I don't want to keep anything from you.”

  “Are you having an affair?” she asked. “Are you leaving me?”

  “Oh no, no,” Tatsuya hastened to assure her. “Nothing like that. It's about my father.”

  “Well, whatever it is it's gotten you tied up in knots,” Mayu stated. “Just spit it out.”

  “My father, the Shuhan, Kobayashi-sama,” Tatsuya stammered, “he … had a thing for boys. He abused Yoshi when he was younger and gave him to other leaders for the same reason, and Takahashi wasn’t the only one.”

  “Oh, ‘suya, I’m so sorry. I can see where that would be terrible news. Are you sure of the source?”

  “It was in his papers, and that's not all,” he continued, eyes fixed on the carpet. “He had an affair. Daisuke is my half-brother.”

  “But Daisuke grew up in the orphan…” she trailed off as realization hit. “He never even tried to…”

  “The man I thought I knew, the one I called father, it's like he didn’t exist at all,” Tatsuya choked out as he wrapped his arms around his wife and held on tight. “I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”

  ****

  Yoshi tossed and turned, mumbling under his breath as he relived his time in Iwagashi shuudan. He managed a strangled, “Makoto,” before falling still again. Kazuki watched with guarded eyes, gently stroking the long pale back until the elite relaxed and slid into deeper sleep. The spell-caster opted to remain awake, pulling on a robe and slipping out of the room to go in search of their guests.

  “How is he?” Kazuki asked.

  “Sleeping, for now,” the swordsman replied. “What do you want, Nakamura-san?”

  “Now, now, no need for such hostility,” Kazuki insisted. “I have no intention of hurting him. Yoshi wanted to see him. He's struggling with the fact that others suffered as he did. I had hopes that Hideaki could help him heal, but it's obvious that's the furthest thing from his mind.”

  “Do you blame him?” Katsutoshi arched a brow. “Why do you care anyway? I would have thought Takahashi was high on your list for elimination. The last thing I expected was to fi
nd you shacked up together.”

  “In the first place, we aren’t ‘shacked up’ as you so pithily put it. I care for Yoshi. I’m trying very hard to help him as he's helped me. I only have a few months left. I was hoping … I don’t know what I was hoping for. Yoshi was able to look past everything I’ve done and help me. I’m afraid of what will happen to him. He's planning on returning to Kobayashi shuudan, despite the fact that they’ll probably treat him as a traitor,” the spell-caster explained.

  “Wait a minute, how can you be dying?” the swordsman asked. “I thought you had that eternal youth spell?”

  “Unfortunately it requires a shinobi trained in the technique as well as a ki donor. Rin graciously deprived me of both before her death. Now I have less than two months left. Without the ability to drain the ki from another I will die … and when I do Yoshi will be alone. I’m just trying to do what I can for him before then.”

  “I understand,” Katsutoshi whispered. “I have tried to help Hideaki as best I can. Unfortunately, there is very little I can do. The headaches grow worse by the week. I fear I will lose him soon.”

  “I am sorry I summoned him. I didn't know he was so ill. It certainly wasn’t worth causing him more pain.”

  “You really have changed. You never cared about anyone's pain but your own before.”

  “We are alike, Hideaki and I,” Kazuki stated after a moment's thought. “But Yoshi is different. He absorbed the pain, humiliation and deceit they threw at him and kept going back for more. His dedication to his shuudan in the face of all that,” the spell-caster wracked his brain for a way to explain. “It takes an inner strength that I greatly admire. Do you know how the last great clan conflict ended?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Katsutoshi asked.

  “Kobayashi-sama used Yoshi as barter to cement treaties and facilitate the release of prisoners. He spent many months as a guest of both Shuhan and Yakuza. They did unspeakable things to him. Although he was still a teenager he accepted the assignments, again and again. Even today he claims that he would do it all over if ordered to. I have never met anyone who lives the principles of shinobi the way he does,” Kazuki explained. “I cannot help but admire him.”

  “Does he know why Hideaki slaughtered his clan?” the swordsman asked. “I know he's worried about Takahashi's reaction.”

  “Your lover has nothing to fear. Yoshi understands why he did what he did, he isn’t out for vengeance. In fact, he carries a heavy burden of guilt. He believes if he had said something about what was happening, Hideaki, and hence the entire Oonishi clan, might have been spared.” Kazuki frowned at the thought. “I’ve told him it was not his fault, but I don’t think he believes me. I had hoped Hideaki could convince him otherwise. Judging from the nightmare Yoshi was having before I left, I fear it's doing more harm than good. Nevertheless, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. Perhaps we can find some way to ease Hideaki's symptoms.”

  “He's not my lover,” the tall swordsman replied. “Our relationship is … complicated, although I do care for him very much. If you could find some way to ease his distress you would earn my eternal gratitude, both of you. But for now I need sleep, and so do you. We will see you in the morning.”

  The spell-caster headed back towards his quarters, intending to slip quietly back into bed, only to be met by an enraged Yoshi. “Where were you?”

  “Speaking with Katsutoshi, why?”

  “Don’t lie to me,” came the growled retort. “I saw how you looked at him when they arrived.”

  “How I looked at who, pretty?” Kazuki asked.

  “Hideaki. I know you were with him, don’t lie to me anymore.”

  “I went to check on him, it's true. But he was asleep, I spoke with Katsutoshi about his condition.”

  “Stop lying to me,” Yoshi demanded. “I know you want him. Why wouldn’t you? He's far prettier than I’ll ever be, and less well used.”

  “Oh, no, no, koishii,” Kazuki assured him. “Never, ever will I want anyone else as long as I have you.”

  “So you say.” The shadow wolf turned his back on his lover in an attempt to regain his composure. “But your actions speak otherwise.”

  “Yoshi.” The spell-caster wrapped his arms around the rigid elite, resting his face against the broad back. “What can I do to prove it to you? Do you want to speak with Katsutoshi yourself? Do I need to send them away? Please answer me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” came the defeated reply. “Of course you should do as you wish. I have no right to dictate to you.”

  “Yes, you do.” Kazuki turned Yoshi to face him, gently lifting his chin so their eyes met. “I will do anything you wish that is within my power.”

  “Stay with me? Please?”

  “I will never willingly leave you,” he promised, kissing the forlorn elite passionately to seal the bargain.

  ****

  Makoto paced his house restlessly. Daisuke had been right, the longer he looked at the boxes of Yoshi's possessions, the worse he felt. This is pointless, there's no reason to keep this stuff here. Who knows if he’ll ever come back. He pulled on his coat and headed for the Shuhan's office.

  “Daisuke?” he called when he entered. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “He's not feeling very well.” Souta stuck his head out the apartment door. “Could it wait?”

  “Of course, I was just wondering what happened with Yoshi's house. I was going to send his things over,” Makoto said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

  “No it can’t,” a haggard Daisuke declared when he appeared at his lover's shoulder. “Hoshu was taking care of it. Go check with him.”

  “Is everything alright?” the interrogator asked. “You look like someone died.”

  “I’m just tired,” the Shuhan insisted. “I’ll be fine after a bit of rest.”

  “If you’re certain…” Makoto demurred, waiting for a protest. “Then I’ll be off, my apologies for intruding.”

  The interrogator located Hoshu in his clan compound. “Shuhan-sama says you looked into the matter of Yoshi's house.”

  “I used some of the discretionary fund to repurchase his family home,” the elder replied. “Why?”

  “I wish to get his things moved in before he returns. Do you have the key?”

  The elder disappeared inside, quickly returning with the object in question. “Thank you,” the interrogator replied. “I will return it as soon as I am done.”

  “You might as well keep it,” Hoshu said. “You’re more likely to see him when he returns than I am.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” came the bitter retort. “However, I will do as you wish.” Makoto gave a weary shrug before heading home. Once there, he grabbed the first boxes he came to and headed for the shadow wolf's house.

  “Good morning, Makoto. How wonderful it is to see such a dedicated shinobi as yourself. Have you by any chance seen my friend Yoshi?” Jun appeared out of nowhere, effectively blocking the interrogator's path.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “You are carrying a box with his name on it,” Jun pointed out. “Despite what everyone thinks, I’m not stupid.”

  “He's … away,” Makoto admitted. “His things were delivered to me by mistake. I was just taking them to his house.”

  “I will be honored to help you with your task.” Jun snatched the boxes out of the interrogator's arms and set off, leaving Makoto scrambling to catch up.

  ****

  “Now that we have finished with our task,” Jun declared, “I would like you to explain exactly what is going on.”

  “How well do you know Yoshi?” Makoto replied enigmatically.

  “He's been my friend since we were young,” Jun admitted. “So I know him better than anyone, but I cannot honestly say that is well. Yoshi has always been secretive.”

  The interrogator studied the man in front of him. Jun would generally be his last choice for companionship, but he sensed an opportunity
to gain valuable insight. “How would you like to join me for sake?” Makoto grasped a burly arm and began to steer them towards the nearest bar, not stopping until they were seated in a secluded corner away from prying eyes.

  “Why have you brought me here?” Jun asked. “If you wish to know Yoshi's secrets, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”

  “Nothing like that,” the interrogator assured him. “I just thought a drink would be nice after moving all those boxes, my treat.”

  “May I ask what your interest in my friend is?”

  “It's … hard to explain.” Makoto poured them each a saucer of sake, lifting one to his lips and toasting “Kanpai” so the loud man would do the same.

  “I’m sure it is.” Jun paused for a moment while the torture master refilled his cup. “Nevertheless I would like an explanation. Are you planning to interrogate him? Because I cannot allow that.”

  “Oh no, no.” The interrogator poured the enraged elite another sake. “I would never hurt Yoshi. I just want to understand him a bit better.”

  “Perhaps you understand him better than I,” Jun suggested with a grin and a wink.

  It's going to be a long night, Makoto thought. I hope it's worth it.

  Several hours later both men were noticeably inebriated. Jun due to Makoto's efforts, and Makoto in a misguided attempt to dull the assault on his senses the other man presented. Worst of all, the interrogator had made no headway whatsoever on uncovering information about Yoshi.

  “Well my friend,” Jun slurred. “I believe it is time for a contest.”

  “Contest?”

  “A contest of strength and skill to end our evening of comradery! If I win you shall tell me how you and Yoshi-kun's became so close.”

  “And if I win?” the interrogator asked, thinking he saw a way out of this fiasco of an evening.

  “Then I shall answer a question of yours, of course.”

  “You’re on,” Makoto growled. “What does the contest consist of?”

  “Hand to hand combat, of course,” the drunken elite proclaimed, smile growing even wider. “Are you ready?”