The Cicada and the Dragon Part III for Arysthaeniru!
Title: The Cicada and the Dragon Part III
Author: quelleperedhil
Recipient: arysthaeniru
Pairing/Characters: Yanagi Renji/Atobe Keigo, Yukimura Seiichi/Ryoma Echizen, Ryuuzaki Sakuno, Tachibana An, Oshitari Yuushi, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Niou Masaharu, and many more.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, but for the most part, not particularly graphic.
Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi-sensei.
Summary: Some bickering, with magic, and a side of dragons.
Yanagi had been waiting for Atobe for exactly one hour and forty-seven minutes. Fortunately, his fortitude had been restored by a long bath and a seemingly endless supply of tea. He didn’t mind the stalling when Atobe’s servants fetched him a hot cup whenever he asked.
“Good evening, King Stripper,” Atobe entered the room. Apparently, the King had opted to wear riding boots instead of his heeled boots.
“What an unfortunate nickname,” Yanagi said. “As you’re quite safe from my wiles, Renji will do.”
“I suppose you may address me as Atobe-sama,” he said grandly. “Instead of Your Majesty.”
“Very kind,” Yanagi remarked, neglecting to use a name at all. “Did you have a pleasant ride?”
“Hm? Ride?”
“You’re wearing boots specifically cobbled for riding. Since your boots earlier were significantly more formal for a less formal occasion, I assumed it was preference. Therefore, any deviation from that preference is most likely function.”
Atobe snorted and said sarcastically, “King Stripper and footwear expert. Color me impressed, what can’t you do, Renji?”
“I suppose I can’t talk down on others with quite as much flair,” Yanagi said. “Though with the height difference between us, I hardly think it necessary.”
Yanagi was 78% certain that Atobe flinched, but the ice King was ever quick with the comeback. “If my horse is to be considered, that is more than enough height and weight to squash you flat.”
“Ah, you’re correct. Which breed of horse, so that I might calculate the angle to tilt my head and muster up the appropriate amount of fear,” Yanagi conveyed, not the least bit afraid.
Despite his best efforts, Atobe’s tone softened when he talked about his horse. “Excidium is a pure-bred Destrier. Sixteen hands tall and more than strong enough to bury a man in the dirt with the might of his hooves alone.”
“Hm, perhaps I should have brought a courting gift for him as well.”
Atobe laughed, “Already trying to bribe my horse?”
“True, putting the cart before the King is a terrible habit,” he said. “I ought to bribe you first.”
“Indeed. But for now, let’s eat,” Atobe, in a surprising show of manners, guided Yanagi from the sitting room to the table. “Our countries are at war. You’ll find me marginally more receptive after a nice cut of steak.”
Yanagi supposed that meant marginally less likely to let him rot and never return the body. But despite the lingering threat and the ticking clock in his body, he rather enjoyed Atobe’s caustic companionship. The King had a presence to rival Sanada’s, carried a sharp conversation with Yukimura’s skill, and flustered with far more charm than Kirihara. He almost regretted when grappa replaced dinner on the table, signifying the end of pleasantries.
“So, our kingdoms are at war because of you,” Atobe said, seemingly relaxed. Yanagi supposed he was relaxed in the way a vicious jungle cat might recline occasionally. “And you intend to court me to save your own life.”
“I think you’ll find that the fighting has ceased.”
“Shitenhouji,” Atobe said, because he had seen. “That doesn’t change the unprovoked attack on our western lands and the damage inflicted on our wall.”
Yanagi reached into his pocket and put a small, brown pouch on the table between them. From the silence, he assumed that Atobe was examining it cautiously.
“…What is it,” he said finally, not trusting Yanagi quite enough to touch it.
“Reparations,” he said. “As there were no human casualties, I think that should be enough.”
With a noise somewhere between disbelief and anger, Atobe shifted. Yanagi assumed that he opened the pouch and was proven right when the King said sourly, “It’s dirt.”
“It’s mostly dung, actually,” Yanagi supplied. “81% dung with dried blood and added nutrients.”
Yanagi swore that the temperature in the room dropped a full twelve and a half degrees.
“Dung,” Atobe echoed in a tone that promised murder.
“Exactly,” Yanagi said, unphased. “It’s a very important ingredient in fertilizer.” When it seemed that Atobe was going to let him go on unmolested, he continued, “I developed this particular mixture to help our crops along in the hard ground. I do think you will need to customize it to Hyoutei’s soil, but if you combine this with upturned earth, you’ll see your harvest come up faster and stronger, better able to bear the weather to a reasonable extent.”
Considering that Hyoutei’s fields had been mysteriously razed, Yanagi couldn’t have picked a better time to offer this particular gift. However, he worried more about the purpose of said razing.
“Go on,” Atobe said. The King didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he was willing to hear Yanagi out, something he had banked all of his probabilities upon.
“As you know, Kirihara’s attack is being neutralized as we speak. Additionally, you no longer need to consider the corrupted Shitenhouji as a threat. Military power aside, you had many problems with petty criminals and gangs in that direction,” though he had been attacked, Atobe was coming out the victor in this drama. “Shitenhouji has been freed in your name, and you will find them grateful neighbors.”
Atobe hummed as he considered these points. By now, Yanagi knew that to be a good sign. “I suppose you could do no better with immaterial gifts.”
Yanagi knew exactly what Atobe was so impatient to see. In fact, it defied all odds that the King refrained from seizing it immediately. “I also come bearing a relic of Sumire, the golden gauntlet,” he reached into his bag and held it out for Atobe to see. “The gift is not the gauntlet itself, but my faith in your ability to protect the world from it.”
“Indeed,” Atobe agreed, quite flattered. Yanagi could hear the smile in his voice. “The words you spoke to Shiraishi were correct. I have no intention of wearing the gauntlet.”
If Yanagi were to hazard a guess, Atobe simply wished to call it his own and hide it beneath his castle with all of his other treasures. Yukimura too had such a hoard, as did Echizen, though it was some foul tasting wine instead of gold. For such powerful species, dragon-born could be so predictable. Because he had more sense than to say as much, Yanagi simply bowed.
“You amuse me,” Atobe decided. “And I found your offerings passable. I will consider allowing you to court me, but I make no guarantees for your survival.”
“Thank you, Keigo,” Yanagi smiled, not really expecting to survive either way.
The great King sputtered, but articulated no real complaint against the address.
-
Unable to sleep, Yanagi sat at the window and mused over calculations. As a blind man, he had no real reason for sitting at the window. In fact, it was chilly and therefore more uncomfortable than the rest of the generous suite. But it felt like the proper place to think, and if he attempted any other location, he might be distracted and instead contemplate whether or not he’d be more productive by the window.
“Cat got your tongue, dataman?” a familiar voice teased from said window.
“I’m just taking in the view, Niou-kun,” Yanagi shifted slightly to allow his comrade ease of entry.
“See anything good?” Niou did not come inside. Only Niou would enjoy remaining perched on the windowsill of a tower this high up.
“Many probabilities,” he admitted, for he knew they both shared a fondness for numbers. “None of them favorable.”
“You’ve said that before, just makes it interesting,” Niou said easily. Finally, the white-haired man hopped into the room; the guard must have been passing by below. Surely Niou was walking about his room, but he couldn’t confirm that hunch until he heard him sniff at the scent bowl on his bedside. After they left Marui behind at the border, he no longer had the feeling of being followed. Niou was that good.
“Indeed, Rikkai only plays for high stakes,” he agreed. And with another weapon at hand to increase their chances, the odds were…
Crunch. Niou was eating the potpourri.
Hurl. Niou spat up the potpourri.
…Their odds were still quite bad, really. Yanagi poured a glass of water for Niou and said, “You might as well take my bed for tonight. I have work to do.”
Niou took the water and used those footsteps to blow air annoyingly in Yanagi’s ear. “I didn’t climb this nice tall tower to spoon myself.”
Tilting his head slightly, Yanagi smiled and said, “I hear that Hyoutei has a section of the dungeon entirely reserved for spooning.”
“How promising,” Niou said flatly, and strut off to flop onto Yanagi’s bed.
“You should make your way down there. Punishment for pushing Bunta out of that tree.”
Niou just laughed. “He wanted to meet Akutagawa again, really. Just needed the right push.”
Yanagi sighed. It was going to be a long night indeed.
-
“So,” Atobe said to Yanagi over breakfast. “I have made my decision.”
Yanagi sipped at his tea; if Atobe cut Yanagi open, would he even bleed, or would a rush of leaves fly out of him? Beside Princess An, Sakuno sat up straight and alert, concerned for the future of her friend. The girl was nice enough, but Atobe couldn’t quite understand Tezuka’s fondness for the clumsy thing.
“And?” Yanagi directed Atobe’s attention back to him. Sakuno had been quivering under his stare, ah well.
“While I found your problem-solving skills interesting, your gifts appropriate, and your presence not entirely disagreeable,” Atobe explained, “Your status doesn’t benefit me at all, politically.”
Atobe hoped to marry for both advantage and affection. Yanagi didn’t have the former, rather the opposite. If he agreed to be courted by him, other countries would see Hyoutei kowtowing to the will of Rikkai. As for affection, there was no time for it to develop with Yanagi, who was on the verge of death. Despite his best efforts to do so, Atobe didn’t dislike him. The counselor might even have something to offer in the way of looks after a nice blast of fire, but that wasn’t real affection.
“I can understand that,” Yanagi said, quite serene. Did the man want to die?
“That being said,” Atobe continued, “I can appreciate an enterprising spirit. I will give you one chance to prove yourself worthy of the opportunity.”
“Oh?” Yanagi said. Atobe half wanted to kick him; the face of a vegetable had more character.
“You will fight for the right in battle. Should you win, I’ll permit you to court me. However, if you lose, you lose your life.”
Not that Yanagi had much life left to lose anyway.
To Atobe’s surprise, the little mouse of Seigaku stood up from her chair. “You can’t make him do that!” she exclaimed. “That’s not a fair challenge!”
“If it were fair, it would not be a challenge, girl,” Atobe drawled. “A blind man has no hope in battle. Therefore, the physical difference between you and my chosen champion are about equal to the distance between our statuses.”
“He’s not wrong,” Yanagi said to Sakuno with a gentleness he didn’t expect anyone from Rikkai to ever exhibit. More firmly, Yanagi said, “I will take your challenge, Keigo.”
Wrinkling his nose, Atobe declared, “You are not permitted to use that name unless you win.”
“Until I win,” Yanagi’s lips quirked ever so slightly.
“A blind cripple has no hope in battle,” Atobe said. “You best hold your tongue.”
“Perhaps after another cup of tea,” Yanagi said and, to Atobe’s astonishment, poured it himself.
-
Kirihara all but skipped through the hellish landscape of destruction and ash. Every so often he stopped to put some immensely heavy block of rubble into a wheelbarrow so jam-packed that no normal human could ever hope to push it.
“Well done, Akaya,” Shiraishi said with a smile. The King of Shitenhouji was bare from the waist up and carrying a massive bit of lumber. “Bring it over to Koharu and Zaizen. They’re calculating how best to use everything for the reconstruction of the town.”
“Yes!” Kirihara writhed under the praise. “But is it not more important to build up the wall?”
Shiraishi shook his head. “The homes of the displaced come first. And besides, you can stop any enemy that tries to push past us, yes?”
Puffing up his chest, Kirihara agreed, “Of course I can. I wouldn’t let anything interrupt Yanagi’s plan.”
“Just as I thought, you’re a good friend.”
On the wings of those compliments, Kirihara flew to the gathering point where Shitenhouji’s two brains were piecing together the town.
“I think we’re going to have to re-dig the well too,” Zaizen said, looking over the map that Koharu had unearthed from the ruins of one of the finer buildings. “Our supply is running low and people can’t return to a polluted well.”
“And food is hard to come by,” Hitouji said, getting off his horse. “Apparently everywhere else caught fire after Rikkai lit the western fields up. The money you gave me only bought us this much,” he gestured to the bag of rice and caged chickens.
Kirihara frowned. “I…didn’t use that much fire. Yeah, we burned the western field, but the rubble from the wall coming down pretty much put it out.”
“That’s not the only strange news,” said Kenya, panting. Had he been running to keep up with Hitouji on horseback?
“What else is going on?” Shiraishi asked, concerned.
Kenya and Shiraishi exchanged looks that Kirihara didn’t quite understand. Shiraishi nodded and the runner spoke, “There’s a battle at sundown. Between Hyoutei’s black knight and Rikkai’s Yanagi Renji.”
Kirihara’s eyes became splendid green saucers. “What?!” he shouted in disbelief. At any other time, Kirihara would have gladly watched on as Yanagi cunningly obliterated his opponent. But now… “He’s blind!”
“I know,” Shiraishi said. His expression remained confusing to Kirihara, as if he wanted to interfere but knew that he shouldn’t.
Kicking down the wheelbarrow with a frightful yell, Kirihara said, “I’m gonna fucking go there and beat the shit outta him! Nobody pushes around Rikkai!”
“I’m sure Yanagi-kun appreciates your outrage on his behalf,” Shiraishi said reasonably. “But you are of more help to him here, being the stronghold for his plan in the west.”
Kirihara seethed, unhearing.
“Trust Yanagi-kun to your King,” Shiraishi said. Exhaling a little heavily, the King of Shitenhouji turned to Kenya. “I know you just got back, but are you able to go again?”
“Always,” Kenya grinned and got to his feet. The runner was tired, but not out yet.
“I want you to get to Rikkai. Ride or run, I don’t care, whichever is faster. Inform Yukimura about this,” clasping Kenya on the shoulder, he added, “Show everyone why you’re called the speed star of the nation.”
Powered up by the words, Kenya shouted and took off like a bullet.
Finally, Kirihara said with frustration, “No matter how fast he is, they won’t get here in time.”
Shaking his head, Shiraishi said, “I wouldn’t underestimate your King. And besides…” he turned and looked beyond the broken western wall. “There’s more than one way to send a message to the King of Hyoutei.”
-
“Yagyuu, what is taking so long,” Yukimura demanded. The King had been pacing in front of his horse for the last fifteen minutes, itching to ride.
“Sire,” Yagyuu bowed neatly. “Two-thousand men need some time to assemble.”
“How long will it take?”
“At least another thirty minutes, my King. The horses must also be outfitted.”
Yukimura inhaled and exhaled with quiet fury. “Ryoma, fly me to Hyoutei.”
Sitting idly on the stairs, Ryoma flipped through a children’s book. “Too heavy.”
“You carried me just last week.”
Ryoma snorted. “Yeah, to the hunting woods and back, not to another Kingdom.”
“And you’re not going to come with us?”
“I’ll fly and catch up.”
“Did you know that you are, in fact, the worst husband ever?”
Smirking up at Yukimura, Ryoma said, “You drew it onto my anniversary card, remember?
Hoping that Yukimura would pass the next twenty minutes bickering with Ryoma, Yagyuu retreated to help Kuwahara ready the knights. As the minutes ticked by, soldiers collected before the massive gate. Every man on horseback was individual, bearing at least three weapons of their own choice and wearing armor to suit their own needs. Each one rode proudly into line before the King, visibly strutting the crest of United Rikkai that had been burned into the plated metal over their heart. Their presence shifted the balance of Yukimura’s rage. He was no longer an individual crying for blood, which cooled his mindless words with Ryoma. He let the Seigaku warrior have the last word.
“Don’t make me wait too long,” Yukimura gave Ryoma a light smack on the cheek and mounted his horse.
When he turned round to his army, his violet eyes melted into something magma hot. His gaze melted rows of men; two by two they pivoted to the side, making way for Yukimura as he rode to the massive gate, where Sanada joined him.
“Open the gate!” Sanada bellowed. Four people turned a massive wheel to obey the order.
Yukimura and Sanada led the soldiers through the streets. People in the lower town crowded to behold the army’s launch and cheer for their victory. Children waved at them from their father’s necks, women blew kisses to their husbands, and everyone they passed wished them well.
The power of their people, the power of their city, reminded Yukimura all over again; they were United Rikkai, and they would be whole.
“I hope you’re watching, Atobe Keigo,” Yukimura said as they left their city behind. “Because I’m coming for you.”
-
The hours to sunset passed like days. Several people had approached Atobe to talk him down from challenging the blind man. Regardless of their argument, he insisted that he did Yanagi a great mercy by not taking the battlefield personally. No one disagreed with that.
His great insight watched Rikkai for a reaction and was not disappointed. Yukimura had not quite emptied his lands of men to take him on, the Nagoya incident had quite depleted his forces, but he had to remember that while Hyoutei had sheer population volume, every member of Rikkai’s army reached a highly trained, elite level. One Rikkai soldier was three anywhere else.
However, Atobe was ready for them this time. Under the might of the weapon they prepared, Yukimura would regret making personal demands on Atobe’s life and then daring to attack the western lands under his protection. Atobe didn’t hate Yanagi, no, but that didn’t exclude him from Hyoutei’s plan to bring Rikkai to its knees with remorse. His champion was obvious. Not one person in Hyoutei questioned whom Atobe would choose.
“Kabaji,” Atobe said to his dear friend. “It is time. Do not fail me.”
“Usu.”
The ground of the dirt arena seemed to shift when Kabaji walked, every step a mini earthquake. Atobe, quite used to the phenomenon, continued his regal climb up the stairs and to his seat. Except his seat was already occupied by an odd, white haired man.
“Excuse me,” Atobe drawled poisonously. It took him only a moment to recognize the impudent man. He must have crept in through the chaos at the Hyoutei-Shitenhouji border. “Niou Masaharu. Give me a good reason to not have you arrested.”
Smiling slowly up at him, Niou said, “Is a fight really a fight if no one from Rikkai is here to see it?”
“True,” Atobe loomed imperiously over his own plush seat, quite determined to have Niou move. “You could spar me next, but there’s the chance I’ll decapitate you entirely by accident.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be having accidents?” he fussed with the arm of Atobe’s chair.
Infuriated, Atobe responded by sitting right on top of Rikkai’s trickster. Much to Atobe’s pleasure, he knocked the wind right out of Niou. Dragon-born were not light.
“How many turkey legs did you eat on the way here?” Niou groaned.
Thrilled with his conquest, Atobe shifted his full weight on Niou’s lap and said, “Oh, more than enough. Let’s just hope that I don’t have an accident, ahn?”
“Now now, children,” Oshitari said, eyes dark with the knowing amusement that made Atobe want to punch him.
With King sort of seated, the event could begin. While Kabaji stood tall and solemn in the center of the area, Yanagi slouched on a bench, curved sword in his lap. The blindfolded counselor had to be poked and prompted to stand up. Atobe was a little impressed that he managed to do so, and further when he walked in the vague direction of Kabaji without stumbling. It was a slow walk, but considering he never saw the man move without a staff, Atobe could appreciate the determination.
Kabaji bowed respectfully to Yanagi. Somehow, Yanagi managed to return the gesture without crumpling to the dirt.
Atobe could read the reluctance in the gentle giant’s form. Usually, his friend preferred baking and caring for the royal chickens to actual battle, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at it.
Lifting his enormous sword from the ground, Kabaji swung at Yanagi with surprising speed. As if he knew exactly where the attack would come, Yanagi deftly dodged the blade and stumbled to Kabaji’s open side.
Unfortunately for Yanagi, it wasn’t really open. Kabaji extended his arm, hanging the massive blade over his shoulder to block the bite of the long, curved knife. Despite the clumsy, seemingly random nature of Yanagi’s movements, he managed to dodge every powerful attack sent his way. It was too fortuitous to be chance. Usually this was the point in the match where Kabaji would awe his opponent with an absolute copy of his or her own style.
The problem was that Yanagi didn’t seem to have any, aside from barely ducking the swings of the large blade.
The back-and-forth persisted. Every time it looked like Kabaji trapped Yanagi, the blind man would somehow wriggle himself out of it. Was the counselor truly blind under that cloth?
And then, to even Atobe’s surprise, Kabaji evaded a (entirely too accurate) swing of Yanagi’s sword in that same happenstance manner. Now that his friend copied the move, Atobe clearly saw the advantage. Dodging at the last second in such an unpredictable way forced the opponent to complete the motion fully and, in that moment of complete extension, be vulnerable. Only Kabaji’s considerable reflexes saved him thus far against such a strategy.
However, the battle could not continue if both of them used this technique. One of them had to attack and apparently, it was Yanagi’s turn. He followed Kabaji’s motions as if they were dancing, crafting his attacks to steer the larger man’s into a corner. If he were facing a mere copycat, the match might have been over. Kabaji selected his attack, Ohtori’s turbulent charge, and used his thick sword as a shield to bull his way straight through the opponent.
Yanagi, incredibly, leapt into the air and skated his curved blade up Kabaji’s. The counselor flipped one hundred and eighty degrees in the air to land behind the knight. And in that aerial moment, he knew precisely Kabaji’s location. Yanagi threw out his long legs to push his feet into the small of Kabaji’s back.
Kabaji stumbled and turned with more grace than perhaps anyone else could have managed, but it was too late. Yanagi was there with his sword to Kabaji’s throat.
Sucking in his breath, Atobe held the announcement. He was about to call the match when Yanagi, in a peculiar show of acrobatics, made it for him. The counselor jumped deftly, hopping up the stands to the King’s bench. Before Atobe could come up with anything scathing to say, Yanagi seized Atobe’s chin and stole a demanding kiss for his prize.
Sounds of surprise echoed through the spectator booths, but Atobe couldn’t think about that, not with Yanagi’s lips, irritatingly dry from combat, prying him apart, melting his insides, and spreading a strange, floral taste over his palate.
Yanagi pulled back and smiled a slow, crooked smile. “Puri.”
Atobe swallowed, then reddened with fury as Yanagi’s face gave way, changing shape with the fading sunlight to reveal a white haired man with a mole. “What….”
“You said it yourself, Keigo. A blind man has no hope in battle,” Yanagi spoke quietly in his ear. Atobe shivered to the curl of hot breath and whirled around to see that he had actually been sitting on Yanagi’s lap for the entire match. “My opponent was you, not your champion.”
Atobe leapt up as if he had been sitting on hot coals. “You cheated.”
Tilting his head, Yanagi said, “I should think that cheating the all-knowing King of Hyoutei is more impressive than any swordplay that I could manage at the moment.”
To that, Atobe truly had nothing to say. Yanagi had been under his nose, or rather, under him the entire time and he hadn’t noticed. For all of his planning and watching, he missed the key to winning this battle.
“Besides,” Niou draped himself over Yanagi’s lap. “I was fighting as Yanagi. It’s not like I did anything that he couldn’t do at full strength.”
“You’re heavy, Niou. I can’t feel my legs.”
“Then how do you know that I’m heavy?”
Gritting his teeth, Atobe declared, “Take them to the dungeons!
The guards rushed to obey, despite the conflicted response of the crowd.
“Oohh,” Niou said, not resisting arrest. “I hear your dungeons are really something to look forward to.”
As Yanagi and Niou were dragged away, another guard approached Atobe. “Sire,” he spoke urgently. “United Rikkai has been sighted.”
“Very well, sound the bell,” Atobe spoke with authority. Turning to Hiyoshi in the stands below, he demanded, “Prepare Excidium for battle. Let’s give them a long overdue welcome.”
Part 4: Burning
“What do you think is happening up there?” Sakuno asked nervously.
“You remember what Yanagi-kun said,” An said. “Just focus on the magic and don’t worry about him.”
Sakuno did remember. When she and An returned to their quarters after breakfast and a walk around the gardens to debrief, Niou of Rikkai had been waiting with instruction from Yanagi. While her blind companion fought Atobe’s champion, she and An were to use the distraction to plumb the depths of Hyoutei for secrets.
She really did not like depths, especially not when they involved impenetrable stone dungeons and fat, bright-eyed rats.
“I think we’re getting closer,” Sakuno swallowed. Once they bypassed the prison corridors via the main artery, the stench of human waste gave way to a total lack of air. Ryoma had once taken her to the top of a mountain on his wings; the air down here made her lungs feel spoiled by that memory.
“Yeah…” An agreed. Her courage led Sakuno past the ornate doors of Oshitari’s quarters toward a more ominous entryway. At least, any entryway blocked by an enormous metal barrier was plenty ominous to earn their suspicion. Even with Sakuno’s dragon-born strength, it took both of them to open the door.
Most likely, as a dragon-born, Atobe was the only person in Hyoutei strong enough to get through that portal.
The door opened slowly, making a horrible cacophonous racket for every inch that it budged. For all the effort to reveal it, the small, stone room was empty save for the jet-black marble pedestal erected in the very center of that space. Sakuno’s eyes locked with the red cloud of flame locked in by the huge, translucent orb upon the pillar.
“Well, well, I guess Yuushi did have a good reason for asking me to wait around his rooms during the big fight.”
Sakuno jumped in fright. An put herself in front of Sakuno and accused venomously, “Mukahi, what is this place?”
“Not something I’m going to explain to you,” Mukahi drew his sword. “Come quietly with me and maybe King Atobe will let you live.”
Trembling, Sakuno nodded to obey. What could she do? She didn’t even know what the orb was; it seemed wiser to live on to give the secret to someone like Yanagi, who always knew what to do.
An didn’t agree. She drew a long, black knife from her skirts and said, “Who knew that these dresses would prove so useful?”
“An-chan!” she exclaimed, too late.
The onyx handle of her sword glimmered faintly as she engineered her attack to no effect; Mukahi was fast and unpredictable. Not even An, highly-trained and light on her feet, could keep up with his strange flips and complete backbends. But, Mukahi’s creative, flexible offense couldn’t seem to touch her either.
“Run, Sakuno!” An grimaced, catching Mukahi’s blow just barely with the flat of her sword. “You have to reach someone!”
Sakuno wished that weren’t true. She looked from the fire blazing in An’s eyes to the one trapped in the strange stoneglass.
“You have to tell someone!” An insisted again, screaming when one of Mukahi’s feet caught her shoulder.
“I think not!” Mukahi insisted. The redhead gave chase and Sakuno ran. He dove and, at the last moment, caught her feet with his hand.
As she fell, she cried, and as she cried, her flailing elbow made chance contact with the black marble. Under the dragon-born blow, the pedestal rocked.
“No!” Mukahi shrieked. He stumbled on his feet, desperate to catch the orb before it fell. The burning ball struck the ground just beyond the reach of his fingertips and shattered.
Magic unleashed, the whole room erupted into flame.
-
Two armies stared each other down from opposite banks of the fully frozen river Fortuna. The icicle fangs of the Great Falls hung ominously between them. Though Rikkai had two thousand highly trained combatants on horseback, the forces of Hyoutei were at least five thousand strong on the ground, not counting those waiting behind the castle gates or arming the towers of the keep with arrows and catapults. While one side fought for their friend, the other fought for their home and freedom. One of them would lose.
The Kings smiled at each other; the ice seemed to thicken as they rode out to meet at the center of the large river. Sanada glared daggers at a nonchalant Oshitari while Hiyoshi and Yagyuu silently sized each other up.
“How wonderful to see you, Keigo,” Yukimura said.
“I wish I could say the same,” Atobe drawled. “Unfortunately you’ve come at a bad time. I was quite busy putting your dear counselor to the test.”
Sanada spurred his horse forward, getting in Atobe’s face, “Give him back.”
“Oh, certainly,” Atobe smirked. “Though I imagine he’ll have perished by the time you get to him.”
“Our dungeons are rather cold, you see,” Oshitari said, pulling Sanada’s attention from Atobe. “The chill must have exacerbated whatever misfortune had befallen him.”
“All we want is one of our own safe and whole,” Yukimura said. If not for the scalding look in his eyes, he could almost be mistaken for calm.
“Which you are perfectly entitled to, so long as that desire doesn’t infringe on either my freedom or the safety of my people.”
“So, we will not reach agreement.”
“The winner will be Hyoutei,” Atobe insisted. Behind him, the enormous army cheered. Yukimura’s forces, though smaller, returned the noise with just as much force. The ice seemed to tremble at the very sound.
But the trembling continued and evolved into shaking. The six men on the river struggled to calm their horses through the rumbling. The soldiers shouted amongst themselves, helping each other and making sure that no cavalry rampage occurred by accident.
“Earthquake!”
“Stay calm!”
It was hard to stay calm when the shaking didn’t stop. Dark clouds pulled closer in the night sky and the tremors increased, splitting and shifting the terrain of the ice into sharp, mountainous peaks and dark, deep crevasses. There was no water to be seen. Just an empty void and an unspeakable heaviness, like the darkness had reached out and bound every soul with its own private anchor to its depths.
“…No,” Atobe sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth. “No.”
“It can’t be…” Hiyoshi clutched his spear tighter.
“It has been activated,” Oshitari said, eerily serious. “And not by us.”
“What is the meaning of this?!” Sanada demanded. No one answered.
A deathly blue rotted hand thrust out from a crevasse and clawed at the surface of the river. Gathering his strength, Atobe leapt from Excidium and looked down the chasm and into the empty eyes of the decomposing, dead King Sakaki. The carcass screamed and pulled itself up by a hand on Atobe’s neck.
“Keigo!”
“The King!”
Fighting down bile, Atobe shouted, “For Hyoutei!” and threw the corpse back into the abyss. Throwing his head over his shoulder at the invading army, he implored, “Run, you Rikkai idiots.”
Even Yukimura went pale with fright as the skeletons, in various states of decomposition, crawled up from the cavities. They poured up from the ground like ants from a broken hill and soon, there would be nowhere to run from them.
Go to Part IV
Author: quelleperedhil
Recipient: arysthaeniru
Pairing/Characters: Yanagi Renji/Atobe Keigo, Yukimura Seiichi/Ryoma Echizen, Ryuuzaki Sakuno, Tachibana An, Oshitari Yuushi, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Niou Masaharu, and many more.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, but for the most part, not particularly graphic.
Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi-sensei.
Summary: Some bickering, with magic, and a side of dragons.
Yanagi had been waiting for Atobe for exactly one hour and forty-seven minutes. Fortunately, his fortitude had been restored by a long bath and a seemingly endless supply of tea. He didn’t mind the stalling when Atobe’s servants fetched him a hot cup whenever he asked.
“Good evening, King Stripper,” Atobe entered the room. Apparently, the King had opted to wear riding boots instead of his heeled boots.
“What an unfortunate nickname,” Yanagi said. “As you’re quite safe from my wiles, Renji will do.”
“I suppose you may address me as Atobe-sama,” he said grandly. “Instead of Your Majesty.”
“Very kind,” Yanagi remarked, neglecting to use a name at all. “Did you have a pleasant ride?”
“Hm? Ride?”
“You’re wearing boots specifically cobbled for riding. Since your boots earlier were significantly more formal for a less formal occasion, I assumed it was preference. Therefore, any deviation from that preference is most likely function.”
Atobe snorted and said sarcastically, “King Stripper and footwear expert. Color me impressed, what can’t you do, Renji?”
“I suppose I can’t talk down on others with quite as much flair,” Yanagi said. “Though with the height difference between us, I hardly think it necessary.”
Yanagi was 78% certain that Atobe flinched, but the ice King was ever quick with the comeback. “If my horse is to be considered, that is more than enough height and weight to squash you flat.”
“Ah, you’re correct. Which breed of horse, so that I might calculate the angle to tilt my head and muster up the appropriate amount of fear,” Yanagi conveyed, not the least bit afraid.
Despite his best efforts, Atobe’s tone softened when he talked about his horse. “Excidium is a pure-bred Destrier. Sixteen hands tall and more than strong enough to bury a man in the dirt with the might of his hooves alone.”
“Hm, perhaps I should have brought a courting gift for him as well.”
Atobe laughed, “Already trying to bribe my horse?”
“True, putting the cart before the King is a terrible habit,” he said. “I ought to bribe you first.”
“Indeed. But for now, let’s eat,” Atobe, in a surprising show of manners, guided Yanagi from the sitting room to the table. “Our countries are at war. You’ll find me marginally more receptive after a nice cut of steak.”
Yanagi supposed that meant marginally less likely to let him rot and never return the body. But despite the lingering threat and the ticking clock in his body, he rather enjoyed Atobe’s caustic companionship. The King had a presence to rival Sanada’s, carried a sharp conversation with Yukimura’s skill, and flustered with far more charm than Kirihara. He almost regretted when grappa replaced dinner on the table, signifying the end of pleasantries.
“So, our kingdoms are at war because of you,” Atobe said, seemingly relaxed. Yanagi supposed he was relaxed in the way a vicious jungle cat might recline occasionally. “And you intend to court me to save your own life.”
“I think you’ll find that the fighting has ceased.”
“Shitenhouji,” Atobe said, because he had seen. “That doesn’t change the unprovoked attack on our western lands and the damage inflicted on our wall.”
Yanagi reached into his pocket and put a small, brown pouch on the table between them. From the silence, he assumed that Atobe was examining it cautiously.
“…What is it,” he said finally, not trusting Yanagi quite enough to touch it.
“Reparations,” he said. “As there were no human casualties, I think that should be enough.”
With a noise somewhere between disbelief and anger, Atobe shifted. Yanagi assumed that he opened the pouch and was proven right when the King said sourly, “It’s dirt.”
“It’s mostly dung, actually,” Yanagi supplied. “81% dung with dried blood and added nutrients.”
Yanagi swore that the temperature in the room dropped a full twelve and a half degrees.
“Dung,” Atobe echoed in a tone that promised murder.
“Exactly,” Yanagi said, unphased. “It’s a very important ingredient in fertilizer.” When it seemed that Atobe was going to let him go on unmolested, he continued, “I developed this particular mixture to help our crops along in the hard ground. I do think you will need to customize it to Hyoutei’s soil, but if you combine this with upturned earth, you’ll see your harvest come up faster and stronger, better able to bear the weather to a reasonable extent.”
Considering that Hyoutei’s fields had been mysteriously razed, Yanagi couldn’t have picked a better time to offer this particular gift. However, he worried more about the purpose of said razing.
“Go on,” Atobe said. The King didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he was willing to hear Yanagi out, something he had banked all of his probabilities upon.
“As you know, Kirihara’s attack is being neutralized as we speak. Additionally, you no longer need to consider the corrupted Shitenhouji as a threat. Military power aside, you had many problems with petty criminals and gangs in that direction,” though he had been attacked, Atobe was coming out the victor in this drama. “Shitenhouji has been freed in your name, and you will find them grateful neighbors.”
Atobe hummed as he considered these points. By now, Yanagi knew that to be a good sign. “I suppose you could do no better with immaterial gifts.”
Yanagi knew exactly what Atobe was so impatient to see. In fact, it defied all odds that the King refrained from seizing it immediately. “I also come bearing a relic of Sumire, the golden gauntlet,” he reached into his bag and held it out for Atobe to see. “The gift is not the gauntlet itself, but my faith in your ability to protect the world from it.”
“Indeed,” Atobe agreed, quite flattered. Yanagi could hear the smile in his voice. “The words you spoke to Shiraishi were correct. I have no intention of wearing the gauntlet.”
If Yanagi were to hazard a guess, Atobe simply wished to call it his own and hide it beneath his castle with all of his other treasures. Yukimura too had such a hoard, as did Echizen, though it was some foul tasting wine instead of gold. For such powerful species, dragon-born could be so predictable. Because he had more sense than to say as much, Yanagi simply bowed.
“You amuse me,” Atobe decided. “And I found your offerings passable. I will consider allowing you to court me, but I make no guarantees for your survival.”
“Thank you, Keigo,” Yanagi smiled, not really expecting to survive either way.
The great King sputtered, but articulated no real complaint against the address.
-
Unable to sleep, Yanagi sat at the window and mused over calculations. As a blind man, he had no real reason for sitting at the window. In fact, it was chilly and therefore more uncomfortable than the rest of the generous suite. But it felt like the proper place to think, and if he attempted any other location, he might be distracted and instead contemplate whether or not he’d be more productive by the window.
“Cat got your tongue, dataman?” a familiar voice teased from said window.
“I’m just taking in the view, Niou-kun,” Yanagi shifted slightly to allow his comrade ease of entry.
“See anything good?” Niou did not come inside. Only Niou would enjoy remaining perched on the windowsill of a tower this high up.
“Many probabilities,” he admitted, for he knew they both shared a fondness for numbers. “None of them favorable.”
“You’ve said that before, just makes it interesting,” Niou said easily. Finally, the white-haired man hopped into the room; the guard must have been passing by below. Surely Niou was walking about his room, but he couldn’t confirm that hunch until he heard him sniff at the scent bowl on his bedside. After they left Marui behind at the border, he no longer had the feeling of being followed. Niou was that good.
“Indeed, Rikkai only plays for high stakes,” he agreed. And with another weapon at hand to increase their chances, the odds were…
Crunch. Niou was eating the potpourri.
Hurl. Niou spat up the potpourri.
…Their odds were still quite bad, really. Yanagi poured a glass of water for Niou and said, “You might as well take my bed for tonight. I have work to do.”
Niou took the water and used those footsteps to blow air annoyingly in Yanagi’s ear. “I didn’t climb this nice tall tower to spoon myself.”
Tilting his head slightly, Yanagi smiled and said, “I hear that Hyoutei has a section of the dungeon entirely reserved for spooning.”
“How promising,” Niou said flatly, and strut off to flop onto Yanagi’s bed.
“You should make your way down there. Punishment for pushing Bunta out of that tree.”
Niou just laughed. “He wanted to meet Akutagawa again, really. Just needed the right push.”
Yanagi sighed. It was going to be a long night indeed.
-
“So,” Atobe said to Yanagi over breakfast. “I have made my decision.”
Yanagi sipped at his tea; if Atobe cut Yanagi open, would he even bleed, or would a rush of leaves fly out of him? Beside Princess An, Sakuno sat up straight and alert, concerned for the future of her friend. The girl was nice enough, but Atobe couldn’t quite understand Tezuka’s fondness for the clumsy thing.
“And?” Yanagi directed Atobe’s attention back to him. Sakuno had been quivering under his stare, ah well.
“While I found your problem-solving skills interesting, your gifts appropriate, and your presence not entirely disagreeable,” Atobe explained, “Your status doesn’t benefit me at all, politically.”
Atobe hoped to marry for both advantage and affection. Yanagi didn’t have the former, rather the opposite. If he agreed to be courted by him, other countries would see Hyoutei kowtowing to the will of Rikkai. As for affection, there was no time for it to develop with Yanagi, who was on the verge of death. Despite his best efforts to do so, Atobe didn’t dislike him. The counselor might even have something to offer in the way of looks after a nice blast of fire, but that wasn’t real affection.
“I can understand that,” Yanagi said, quite serene. Did the man want to die?
“That being said,” Atobe continued, “I can appreciate an enterprising spirit. I will give you one chance to prove yourself worthy of the opportunity.”
“Oh?” Yanagi said. Atobe half wanted to kick him; the face of a vegetable had more character.
“You will fight for the right in battle. Should you win, I’ll permit you to court me. However, if you lose, you lose your life.”
Not that Yanagi had much life left to lose anyway.
To Atobe’s surprise, the little mouse of Seigaku stood up from her chair. “You can’t make him do that!” she exclaimed. “That’s not a fair challenge!”
“If it were fair, it would not be a challenge, girl,” Atobe drawled. “A blind man has no hope in battle. Therefore, the physical difference between you and my chosen champion are about equal to the distance between our statuses.”
“He’s not wrong,” Yanagi said to Sakuno with a gentleness he didn’t expect anyone from Rikkai to ever exhibit. More firmly, Yanagi said, “I will take your challenge, Keigo.”
Wrinkling his nose, Atobe declared, “You are not permitted to use that name unless you win.”
“Until I win,” Yanagi’s lips quirked ever so slightly.
“A blind cripple has no hope in battle,” Atobe said. “You best hold your tongue.”
“Perhaps after another cup of tea,” Yanagi said and, to Atobe’s astonishment, poured it himself.
-
Kirihara all but skipped through the hellish landscape of destruction and ash. Every so often he stopped to put some immensely heavy block of rubble into a wheelbarrow so jam-packed that no normal human could ever hope to push it.
“Well done, Akaya,” Shiraishi said with a smile. The King of Shitenhouji was bare from the waist up and carrying a massive bit of lumber. “Bring it over to Koharu and Zaizen. They’re calculating how best to use everything for the reconstruction of the town.”
“Yes!” Kirihara writhed under the praise. “But is it not more important to build up the wall?”
Shiraishi shook his head. “The homes of the displaced come first. And besides, you can stop any enemy that tries to push past us, yes?”
Puffing up his chest, Kirihara agreed, “Of course I can. I wouldn’t let anything interrupt Yanagi’s plan.”
“Just as I thought, you’re a good friend.”
On the wings of those compliments, Kirihara flew to the gathering point where Shitenhouji’s two brains were piecing together the town.
“I think we’re going to have to re-dig the well too,” Zaizen said, looking over the map that Koharu had unearthed from the ruins of one of the finer buildings. “Our supply is running low and people can’t return to a polluted well.”
“And food is hard to come by,” Hitouji said, getting off his horse. “Apparently everywhere else caught fire after Rikkai lit the western fields up. The money you gave me only bought us this much,” he gestured to the bag of rice and caged chickens.
Kirihara frowned. “I…didn’t use that much fire. Yeah, we burned the western field, but the rubble from the wall coming down pretty much put it out.”
“That’s not the only strange news,” said Kenya, panting. Had he been running to keep up with Hitouji on horseback?
“What else is going on?” Shiraishi asked, concerned.
Kenya and Shiraishi exchanged looks that Kirihara didn’t quite understand. Shiraishi nodded and the runner spoke, “There’s a battle at sundown. Between Hyoutei’s black knight and Rikkai’s Yanagi Renji.”
Kirihara’s eyes became splendid green saucers. “What?!” he shouted in disbelief. At any other time, Kirihara would have gladly watched on as Yanagi cunningly obliterated his opponent. But now… “He’s blind!”
“I know,” Shiraishi said. His expression remained confusing to Kirihara, as if he wanted to interfere but knew that he shouldn’t.
Kicking down the wheelbarrow with a frightful yell, Kirihara said, “I’m gonna fucking go there and beat the shit outta him! Nobody pushes around Rikkai!”
“I’m sure Yanagi-kun appreciates your outrage on his behalf,” Shiraishi said reasonably. “But you are of more help to him here, being the stronghold for his plan in the west.”
Kirihara seethed, unhearing.
“Trust Yanagi-kun to your King,” Shiraishi said. Exhaling a little heavily, the King of Shitenhouji turned to Kenya. “I know you just got back, but are you able to go again?”
“Always,” Kenya grinned and got to his feet. The runner was tired, but not out yet.
“I want you to get to Rikkai. Ride or run, I don’t care, whichever is faster. Inform Yukimura about this,” clasping Kenya on the shoulder, he added, “Show everyone why you’re called the speed star of the nation.”
Powered up by the words, Kenya shouted and took off like a bullet.
Finally, Kirihara said with frustration, “No matter how fast he is, they won’t get here in time.”
Shaking his head, Shiraishi said, “I wouldn’t underestimate your King. And besides…” he turned and looked beyond the broken western wall. “There’s more than one way to send a message to the King of Hyoutei.”
-
“Yagyuu, what is taking so long,” Yukimura demanded. The King had been pacing in front of his horse for the last fifteen minutes, itching to ride.
“Sire,” Yagyuu bowed neatly. “Two-thousand men need some time to assemble.”
“How long will it take?”
“At least another thirty minutes, my King. The horses must also be outfitted.”
Yukimura inhaled and exhaled with quiet fury. “Ryoma, fly me to Hyoutei.”
Sitting idly on the stairs, Ryoma flipped through a children’s book. “Too heavy.”
“You carried me just last week.”
Ryoma snorted. “Yeah, to the hunting woods and back, not to another Kingdom.”
“And you’re not going to come with us?”
“I’ll fly and catch up.”
“Did you know that you are, in fact, the worst husband ever?”
Smirking up at Yukimura, Ryoma said, “You drew it onto my anniversary card, remember?
Hoping that Yukimura would pass the next twenty minutes bickering with Ryoma, Yagyuu retreated to help Kuwahara ready the knights. As the minutes ticked by, soldiers collected before the massive gate. Every man on horseback was individual, bearing at least three weapons of their own choice and wearing armor to suit their own needs. Each one rode proudly into line before the King, visibly strutting the crest of United Rikkai that had been burned into the plated metal over their heart. Their presence shifted the balance of Yukimura’s rage. He was no longer an individual crying for blood, which cooled his mindless words with Ryoma. He let the Seigaku warrior have the last word.
“Don’t make me wait too long,” Yukimura gave Ryoma a light smack on the cheek and mounted his horse.
When he turned round to his army, his violet eyes melted into something magma hot. His gaze melted rows of men; two by two they pivoted to the side, making way for Yukimura as he rode to the massive gate, where Sanada joined him.
“Open the gate!” Sanada bellowed. Four people turned a massive wheel to obey the order.
Yukimura and Sanada led the soldiers through the streets. People in the lower town crowded to behold the army’s launch and cheer for their victory. Children waved at them from their father’s necks, women blew kisses to their husbands, and everyone they passed wished them well.
The power of their people, the power of their city, reminded Yukimura all over again; they were United Rikkai, and they would be whole.
“I hope you’re watching, Atobe Keigo,” Yukimura said as they left their city behind. “Because I’m coming for you.”
-
The hours to sunset passed like days. Several people had approached Atobe to talk him down from challenging the blind man. Regardless of their argument, he insisted that he did Yanagi a great mercy by not taking the battlefield personally. No one disagreed with that.
His great insight watched Rikkai for a reaction and was not disappointed. Yukimura had not quite emptied his lands of men to take him on, the Nagoya incident had quite depleted his forces, but he had to remember that while Hyoutei had sheer population volume, every member of Rikkai’s army reached a highly trained, elite level. One Rikkai soldier was three anywhere else.
However, Atobe was ready for them this time. Under the might of the weapon they prepared, Yukimura would regret making personal demands on Atobe’s life and then daring to attack the western lands under his protection. Atobe didn’t hate Yanagi, no, but that didn’t exclude him from Hyoutei’s plan to bring Rikkai to its knees with remorse. His champion was obvious. Not one person in Hyoutei questioned whom Atobe would choose.
“Kabaji,” Atobe said to his dear friend. “It is time. Do not fail me.”
“Usu.”
The ground of the dirt arena seemed to shift when Kabaji walked, every step a mini earthquake. Atobe, quite used to the phenomenon, continued his regal climb up the stairs and to his seat. Except his seat was already occupied by an odd, white haired man.
“Excuse me,” Atobe drawled poisonously. It took him only a moment to recognize the impudent man. He must have crept in through the chaos at the Hyoutei-Shitenhouji border. “Niou Masaharu. Give me a good reason to not have you arrested.”
Smiling slowly up at him, Niou said, “Is a fight really a fight if no one from Rikkai is here to see it?”
“True,” Atobe loomed imperiously over his own plush seat, quite determined to have Niou move. “You could spar me next, but there’s the chance I’ll decapitate you entirely by accident.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be having accidents?” he fussed with the arm of Atobe’s chair.
Infuriated, Atobe responded by sitting right on top of Rikkai’s trickster. Much to Atobe’s pleasure, he knocked the wind right out of Niou. Dragon-born were not light.
“How many turkey legs did you eat on the way here?” Niou groaned.
Thrilled with his conquest, Atobe shifted his full weight on Niou’s lap and said, “Oh, more than enough. Let’s just hope that I don’t have an accident, ahn?”
“Now now, children,” Oshitari said, eyes dark with the knowing amusement that made Atobe want to punch him.
With King sort of seated, the event could begin. While Kabaji stood tall and solemn in the center of the area, Yanagi slouched on a bench, curved sword in his lap. The blindfolded counselor had to be poked and prompted to stand up. Atobe was a little impressed that he managed to do so, and further when he walked in the vague direction of Kabaji without stumbling. It was a slow walk, but considering he never saw the man move without a staff, Atobe could appreciate the determination.
Kabaji bowed respectfully to Yanagi. Somehow, Yanagi managed to return the gesture without crumpling to the dirt.
Atobe could read the reluctance in the gentle giant’s form. Usually, his friend preferred baking and caring for the royal chickens to actual battle, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at it.
Lifting his enormous sword from the ground, Kabaji swung at Yanagi with surprising speed. As if he knew exactly where the attack would come, Yanagi deftly dodged the blade and stumbled to Kabaji’s open side.
Unfortunately for Yanagi, it wasn’t really open. Kabaji extended his arm, hanging the massive blade over his shoulder to block the bite of the long, curved knife. Despite the clumsy, seemingly random nature of Yanagi’s movements, he managed to dodge every powerful attack sent his way. It was too fortuitous to be chance. Usually this was the point in the match where Kabaji would awe his opponent with an absolute copy of his or her own style.
The problem was that Yanagi didn’t seem to have any, aside from barely ducking the swings of the large blade.
The back-and-forth persisted. Every time it looked like Kabaji trapped Yanagi, the blind man would somehow wriggle himself out of it. Was the counselor truly blind under that cloth?
And then, to even Atobe’s surprise, Kabaji evaded a (entirely too accurate) swing of Yanagi’s sword in that same happenstance manner. Now that his friend copied the move, Atobe clearly saw the advantage. Dodging at the last second in such an unpredictable way forced the opponent to complete the motion fully and, in that moment of complete extension, be vulnerable. Only Kabaji’s considerable reflexes saved him thus far against such a strategy.
However, the battle could not continue if both of them used this technique. One of them had to attack and apparently, it was Yanagi’s turn. He followed Kabaji’s motions as if they were dancing, crafting his attacks to steer the larger man’s into a corner. If he were facing a mere copycat, the match might have been over. Kabaji selected his attack, Ohtori’s turbulent charge, and used his thick sword as a shield to bull his way straight through the opponent.
Yanagi, incredibly, leapt into the air and skated his curved blade up Kabaji’s. The counselor flipped one hundred and eighty degrees in the air to land behind the knight. And in that aerial moment, he knew precisely Kabaji’s location. Yanagi threw out his long legs to push his feet into the small of Kabaji’s back.
Kabaji stumbled and turned with more grace than perhaps anyone else could have managed, but it was too late. Yanagi was there with his sword to Kabaji’s throat.
Sucking in his breath, Atobe held the announcement. He was about to call the match when Yanagi, in a peculiar show of acrobatics, made it for him. The counselor jumped deftly, hopping up the stands to the King’s bench. Before Atobe could come up with anything scathing to say, Yanagi seized Atobe’s chin and stole a demanding kiss for his prize.
Sounds of surprise echoed through the spectator booths, but Atobe couldn’t think about that, not with Yanagi’s lips, irritatingly dry from combat, prying him apart, melting his insides, and spreading a strange, floral taste over his palate.
Yanagi pulled back and smiled a slow, crooked smile. “Puri.”
Atobe swallowed, then reddened with fury as Yanagi’s face gave way, changing shape with the fading sunlight to reveal a white haired man with a mole. “What….”
“You said it yourself, Keigo. A blind man has no hope in battle,” Yanagi spoke quietly in his ear. Atobe shivered to the curl of hot breath and whirled around to see that he had actually been sitting on Yanagi’s lap for the entire match. “My opponent was you, not your champion.”
Atobe leapt up as if he had been sitting on hot coals. “You cheated.”
Tilting his head, Yanagi said, “I should think that cheating the all-knowing King of Hyoutei is more impressive than any swordplay that I could manage at the moment.”
To that, Atobe truly had nothing to say. Yanagi had been under his nose, or rather, under him the entire time and he hadn’t noticed. For all of his planning and watching, he missed the key to winning this battle.
“Besides,” Niou draped himself over Yanagi’s lap. “I was fighting as Yanagi. It’s not like I did anything that he couldn’t do at full strength.”
“You’re heavy, Niou. I can’t feel my legs.”
“Then how do you know that I’m heavy?”
Gritting his teeth, Atobe declared, “Take them to the dungeons!
The guards rushed to obey, despite the conflicted response of the crowd.
“Oohh,” Niou said, not resisting arrest. “I hear your dungeons are really something to look forward to.”
As Yanagi and Niou were dragged away, another guard approached Atobe. “Sire,” he spoke urgently. “United Rikkai has been sighted.”
“Very well, sound the bell,” Atobe spoke with authority. Turning to Hiyoshi in the stands below, he demanded, “Prepare Excidium for battle. Let’s give them a long overdue welcome.”
Part 4: Burning
“What do you think is happening up there?” Sakuno asked nervously.
“You remember what Yanagi-kun said,” An said. “Just focus on the magic and don’t worry about him.”
Sakuno did remember. When she and An returned to their quarters after breakfast and a walk around the gardens to debrief, Niou of Rikkai had been waiting with instruction from Yanagi. While her blind companion fought Atobe’s champion, she and An were to use the distraction to plumb the depths of Hyoutei for secrets.
She really did not like depths, especially not when they involved impenetrable stone dungeons and fat, bright-eyed rats.
“I think we’re getting closer,” Sakuno swallowed. Once they bypassed the prison corridors via the main artery, the stench of human waste gave way to a total lack of air. Ryoma had once taken her to the top of a mountain on his wings; the air down here made her lungs feel spoiled by that memory.
“Yeah…” An agreed. Her courage led Sakuno past the ornate doors of Oshitari’s quarters toward a more ominous entryway. At least, any entryway blocked by an enormous metal barrier was plenty ominous to earn their suspicion. Even with Sakuno’s dragon-born strength, it took both of them to open the door.
Most likely, as a dragon-born, Atobe was the only person in Hyoutei strong enough to get through that portal.
The door opened slowly, making a horrible cacophonous racket for every inch that it budged. For all the effort to reveal it, the small, stone room was empty save for the jet-black marble pedestal erected in the very center of that space. Sakuno’s eyes locked with the red cloud of flame locked in by the huge, translucent orb upon the pillar.
“Well, well, I guess Yuushi did have a good reason for asking me to wait around his rooms during the big fight.”
Sakuno jumped in fright. An put herself in front of Sakuno and accused venomously, “Mukahi, what is this place?”
“Not something I’m going to explain to you,” Mukahi drew his sword. “Come quietly with me and maybe King Atobe will let you live.”
Trembling, Sakuno nodded to obey. What could she do? She didn’t even know what the orb was; it seemed wiser to live on to give the secret to someone like Yanagi, who always knew what to do.
An didn’t agree. She drew a long, black knife from her skirts and said, “Who knew that these dresses would prove so useful?”
“An-chan!” she exclaimed, too late.
The onyx handle of her sword glimmered faintly as she engineered her attack to no effect; Mukahi was fast and unpredictable. Not even An, highly-trained and light on her feet, could keep up with his strange flips and complete backbends. But, Mukahi’s creative, flexible offense couldn’t seem to touch her either.
“Run, Sakuno!” An grimaced, catching Mukahi’s blow just barely with the flat of her sword. “You have to reach someone!”
Sakuno wished that weren’t true. She looked from the fire blazing in An’s eyes to the one trapped in the strange stoneglass.
“You have to tell someone!” An insisted again, screaming when one of Mukahi’s feet caught her shoulder.
“I think not!” Mukahi insisted. The redhead gave chase and Sakuno ran. He dove and, at the last moment, caught her feet with his hand.
As she fell, she cried, and as she cried, her flailing elbow made chance contact with the black marble. Under the dragon-born blow, the pedestal rocked.
“No!” Mukahi shrieked. He stumbled on his feet, desperate to catch the orb before it fell. The burning ball struck the ground just beyond the reach of his fingertips and shattered.
Magic unleashed, the whole room erupted into flame.
-
Two armies stared each other down from opposite banks of the fully frozen river Fortuna. The icicle fangs of the Great Falls hung ominously between them. Though Rikkai had two thousand highly trained combatants on horseback, the forces of Hyoutei were at least five thousand strong on the ground, not counting those waiting behind the castle gates or arming the towers of the keep with arrows and catapults. While one side fought for their friend, the other fought for their home and freedom. One of them would lose.
The Kings smiled at each other; the ice seemed to thicken as they rode out to meet at the center of the large river. Sanada glared daggers at a nonchalant Oshitari while Hiyoshi and Yagyuu silently sized each other up.
“How wonderful to see you, Keigo,” Yukimura said.
“I wish I could say the same,” Atobe drawled. “Unfortunately you’ve come at a bad time. I was quite busy putting your dear counselor to the test.”
Sanada spurred his horse forward, getting in Atobe’s face, “Give him back.”
“Oh, certainly,” Atobe smirked. “Though I imagine he’ll have perished by the time you get to him.”
“Our dungeons are rather cold, you see,” Oshitari said, pulling Sanada’s attention from Atobe. “The chill must have exacerbated whatever misfortune had befallen him.”
“All we want is one of our own safe and whole,” Yukimura said. If not for the scalding look in his eyes, he could almost be mistaken for calm.
“Which you are perfectly entitled to, so long as that desire doesn’t infringe on either my freedom or the safety of my people.”
“So, we will not reach agreement.”
“The winner will be Hyoutei,” Atobe insisted. Behind him, the enormous army cheered. Yukimura’s forces, though smaller, returned the noise with just as much force. The ice seemed to tremble at the very sound.
But the trembling continued and evolved into shaking. The six men on the river struggled to calm their horses through the rumbling. The soldiers shouted amongst themselves, helping each other and making sure that no cavalry rampage occurred by accident.
“Earthquake!”
“Stay calm!”
It was hard to stay calm when the shaking didn’t stop. Dark clouds pulled closer in the night sky and the tremors increased, splitting and shifting the terrain of the ice into sharp, mountainous peaks and dark, deep crevasses. There was no water to be seen. Just an empty void and an unspeakable heaviness, like the darkness had reached out and bound every soul with its own private anchor to its depths.
“…No,” Atobe sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth. “No.”
“It can’t be…” Hiyoshi clutched his spear tighter.
“It has been activated,” Oshitari said, eerily serious. “And not by us.”
“What is the meaning of this?!” Sanada demanded. No one answered.
A deathly blue rotted hand thrust out from a crevasse and clawed at the surface of the river. Gathering his strength, Atobe leapt from Excidium and looked down the chasm and into the empty eyes of the decomposing, dead King Sakaki. The carcass screamed and pulled itself up by a hand on Atobe’s neck.
“Keigo!”
“The King!”
Fighting down bile, Atobe shouted, “For Hyoutei!” and threw the corpse back into the abyss. Throwing his head over his shoulder at the invading army, he implored, “Run, you Rikkai idiots.”
Even Yukimura went pale with fright as the skeletons, in various states of decomposition, crawled up from the cavities. They poured up from the ground like ants from a broken hill and soon, there would be nowhere to run from them.
Go to Part IV