Brothers In Arms

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.



BROTHERS IN ARMS

By Rory V. Pascual

© Original Version Sept. 9, 1999; Samurai 7 Version July 8, 2006





Part Two



"Where did you learn to sing and play the shamisen like that?" Kanbei asked Shichiroji a week later.



"My former Master," the tin soldier replied as he strummed a few chords. "He owned a shamisen, and he used to sing this kind of music to his wife and children."



"Apt name. The music...it sounds so sad, like it comes right from your soul."



Kikuchiyo snorted in disgust. "To me, it sounds like dogs howling at the moonlight."



"Oh, Kikuchiyo!" laughed Kanbei. "That's because you prefer the music of the peasants. You find it difficult to appreciate other music forms. You're rather set in your ways."



"Hah! But I play the shamisen better than he does!"



"Really?" the Noble Samurai teased him. "Kikuchiyo, you DO NOT play the shamisen. You beat it to death!"



Yukino, who sat on the grass, honing her sword, put in, "Took the words right out of my mouth!"



Kikuchiyo glowered at his two companions. "I will not stand here any minute longer just to be insulted." Turning to the tin soldier below, he called out, "As for you, I want my shamisen back!"



"Kikuchiyo!" Kanbei exclaimed chidingly, but before he could say more, the robot farmer stormed into the keep.



Shichiroji hastened to unsling the shamisen from his shoulder. "I seem to have offended him. This is his after all."



"He's just having a hissy fit," Yukino reassured him. "He'll come around, you'll see." The pretty thief got to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to talk to Kikuchiyo about something."



When the two toys were finally alone, Kanbei said softly, "Kikuchiyo didn't mean to be rude, Shichiroji."



The tin soldier shrugged. "I know that. It's all right! Truly! I'm not letting it affect me."



The Noble Samurai gave his friend a dubious glance. Life has been very difficult for Shichiroji these past few days. Katsushiro rarely plays with him, and when he does, it's usually to castigate him for a very minor offense. Even his commander Kyuzo was constantly at the poor toy's back, berating him for not following the rules. Kanbei tried to pry what these rules were from Shichiroji, but the soldier always told him that it was just a trivial matter. The Noble Samurai, however, would not believe him. Kanbei had an inkling it had something to do with their blossoming friendship. If it wasn't Katsushiro or Kyuzo who's giving him a terrible time, it's Kikuchiyo. Poor Shichiroji was only happy in his or Honoka's company.



Kanbei cast a side-glance at the cuckoo clock. He was aware of Ukyo's power over the household. He knew the demon was behind all this.



"You shouldn't let it get to you, Shichiroji," Kanbei stated firmly. "You must be strong."



"Oh, I am!" the tin soldier answered, though there was sorrow and doubt in his heart. "Believe me, Kanbei! I've been through a lot worse than this. I mean, look at my previous life. My comrades and I were once a set of tin forks, spoons and knives. We were a lovely set of tableware, but we were never used. We're heirlooms or something. My Master's grandfather was a servant. When he was freed, the lord gave us to him as a gift, as well as a shamisen. He kept us in a cupboard, to remind him of what life was like back then. And there we stayed, even when he passed us on to his son, who then gave us to his own son, our last Master. The wooden forks and spoons said we were lucky we didn't have to endure the stench of our Master's breath. I wouldn't have minded. I wanted to be of use to the family."



"Then it was this Master who loved to play music."



"Yes. Next to his shamisen, we were his prized possessions. But the times were hard, and he was forced to sell us. It was Master Heihachi who bought us. He assured him that we would be put to good use. So here we are."



"No wonder you sing so beautifully," Kanbei remarked. "The songs of the serfs... It just reaches in to your heart and soul."



There was a quirky look on the tin soldier's face that Kanbei frowned. "Something's going on inside your head, Shichiroji. Come now! Tell me what it is!"



Sheepishly, and with much reluctance, Shichiroji began, "I overheard the dolls talking one night. They said the only reason why you appreciate my music is because you're tone deaf."



"WHAT?" the Noble Samurai sputtered in surprise. Glaring at the toys on the lower shelves, he declared furiously, "If you're going to gossip about me, better get your facts straight. Just because I can't sing a bloody note doesn't mean I'm tone deaf. I can appreciate music perfectly well. In fact, I LOVE kabuki."



Shichiroji could barely contain his laughter, seeing the dolls shudder at the word 'kabuki'.



"And what are you laughing at?" Kanbei asked the tin soldier icily.



"Nothing! Nothing!" Clearing his throat, Shichiroji became serious. "Kanbei, I want to return Kikuchiyo's shamisen. It belongs to him."



"But Shichiroji..."



"It's not doing me any good keeping it. I would rather that Kikuchiyo become my friend more than anything else."



Kanbei smiled, nodding. "I understand." He then asked the top to lower his string to the tin soldier.



Before Shichiroji could secure the shamisen to the string, Kyuzo leaped out of the box and snatched the instrument out of the soldier's hand.



"This is army property, soldier," Kyuzo bellowed at him. "You do not give army property to the enemy!"



"But it's not ours," argued Shichiroji. "That's Kikuchiyo's shamisen. He dropped it accidentally while he was engaged with the REAL enemy."



"Well, finders keepers, losers weepers! Only a fool would battle a formidable foe with a musical instrument!"



Shichiroji looked Kyuzo straight in the eye. "This shamisen does not belong to you. I must return it to its rightful owner."



"I'm confiscating this instrument."



"I will not allow you to do that!"



To Kanbei's horror, Kyuzo slapped the tin soldier hard in the face.



"STOP!" the Noble Samurai cried in anger, unable to control himself any longer. "Shichiroji has done no wrong for you to hurt him like that!"



Kyuzo pointed a finger at Kanbei. "Stay out of this! You are not the Master of this house, neither are you the commanding officer of these soldiers. If you interfere, I shall..."



"You shall what? I'm not afraid of you, Kyuzo. Lay a hand on Shichiroji, and I swear you shall pay!"



The commander laughed mockingly. "And how are you going to do that? You're just a cripple, just like Shichiroji here. You can't even defend your honor against the demon of the clock."



At these words, Kanbei fell into shamed silence.



Turning to the tin soldier, Kyuzo ordered, "It's guard duty for you again tonight. If you disobey me, it's a court marshal for you."



As he was climbing back into the box, Kikuchiyo ran out of the keep, with Yukino following after him. Seeing Kyuzo with his shamisen, he demanded, "Where's he taking my shamisen? You give that back to me!"



"This is army property now!" Kyuzo told the robot farmer. "Get a new one!"



"You!" Kikuchiyo glared at Shichiroji. "You did this!"



"Please, Kikuchiyo!" Kanbei begged him. "Don't make it any worse than it already is! Yukino, take him back inside."



But the robot farmer was furious. It took great effort on the thief's part to pull him back inside the keep.



Kikuchiyo shouted in a rage, "I'll get you for this, you miserable excuse for a soldier! I swear I'll have my revenge!"



Shichiroji strained to look at the departing figure. "Please don't be angry! I'll get your shamisen back for you, Kikuchiyo! I promise I will!" He gazed worriedly at his friend. "This is all my fault! I'm sorry, Kanbei. I should have returned the shamisen sooner."



But Kanbei did not speak. In his shame, he could not even look at the tin soldier.



"Oh, Kanbei!" said Shichiroji soothingly. "Just ignore Kyuzo. He's always like that. I've learned to get used to it, and so shall you."



The Noble Samurai, however, replied in sorrow, "Kyuzo is right. I'm a cripple, a useless cripple. If I couldn't save myself from Ukyo, how could I even defend you? Maybe it would be better if I went to the demon. Maybe all this pain would end."



"Don't say that! You stood up for me. No one has ever done that for me before, not even Gorobei. And as Kyuzo said, we're BOTH cripples. But that doesn't make us any lesser than the other toys. In fact, you have done a lot of good for Honoka-sama. Don't lose your courage or your pride. Never lose sight of the toy you truly are."



Kanbei gave the tin soldier a weary smile. "To think I was trying to lift up your spirits earlier. Now you're doing the same for me."



"What are friends for. Kanbei, we all have our bad days. Always have faith." Shichiroji's face brightened when Honoka entered the parlor. "Now, keep your chin up. Our beautiful mistress has arrived."



Honoka picked up the two toys. "And how are my two handsome gentlemen this evening? Feeling well, I hope." She looked closely at Kanbei. "Why are you looking so sad today, my Noble Samurai? Let me kiss you so you shall feel better."



When Honoka bestowed a kiss upon his brow, Kanbei felt her love pour into him. This time, it was she who was giving him strength.



"As for you, my brave soldier," she said, giggling, "I have a kiss for you as well."



Shichiroji beamed as Honoka nudged his bandanna upwards a bit and bussed the top of his head.



"Why, Shichiroji! I think you're blushing!" Pressing the two toys close to her heart, Honoka declared, "Come! Heihachi is engrossed once more inside his workroom, and I would appreciate your company. I have a wonderful story I want to read to you. It's about a kind kappa who lives in a lake. I'm sure you'll like that."



Seeing the happy smile on the Noble Samurai's face, Shichiroji mused, // I'm sure we will, my sweet Lady! I'm sure we will! //



~~~~~~~~~~



"Shichiroji! Shichiroji!" Gorobei whispered furiously to his comrade.



"Did you get it?" the tin soldier asked hopefully, trying to make out his friend's face in the darkness.



Quietly climbing down, Gorobei handed the shamisen to his friend. "Kyuzo is going to kill me for this."



"He won't find out, I promise you!" Shichiroji hugged his comrade. "Oh, thank you, Gorobei! I owe you one."



"We're friends, aren't we?" Gorobei grinned at him. "You know I would do anything for you."



Suddenly, Shichiroji saw a glint at the cupboard, something metal, something very sharp. Before he could cry out, Kikuchiyo jumped Gorobei, a sword in his hand.



"GOROBEI!" the tin soldier shouted, horrified, as the robot farmer hacked his friend to pieces.



At his cry, all the tin soldiers leaped out of the box, surrounding Kikuchiyo, their muskets pointed at him.



Kyuzo clucked his tongue at the sight of the ruined toy. He glared at Shichiroji. "This is your doing! If you had only obeyed my orders, Gorobei would still be with us!"



"I only wanted to return Kikuchiyo's shamisen!" stammered Shichiroji. "I wanted to do the right thing!"



"Well, look what happened! By fraternizing with our enemy, you have cost the life of one of our own. See how easy it is for your so-called 'friends' to turn against us. Who else should die before you see the threat they pose to us?"



Shichiroji looked pleadingly at Kikuchiyo. "Why did you do this, Kikuchiyo? I swore I would return your shamisen to you."



"Did you think it was because of my shamisen?" Kikuchiyo exclaimed. "True, you took my prized possession, but you stole something of greater worth to me."



"I don't understand." The tin soldier shook his head in confusion.



"YOU TURNED HIS HEART AGAINST ME!" cried Kikuchiyo. "Kanbei was my best friend, but you stole him away from me!"



"Kikuchiyo, you don't know what you're saying! You're letting your emotions rule over your head!"



"Oh, but I'm thinking very clearly! You took Kanbei away from me. So I took Gorobei away from you. It's that simple."



"GOD DAMN YOU!" Shichiroji gripped the robot farmer's shirt, shaking him hard. "Gorobei was innocent! He didn't do anything to you!"



Behind him, the tin soldier heard Kyuzo whisper, "What are you going to do now, Shichiroji? You know what the punishment is for killing a soldier. What do you say, my friend?"



Ukyo sat on the stoop of the cuckoo clock, watching the tragic scene below with glee. "He killed your friend, Shichiroji! You know what needs to be done."



Then, Katsushiro appeared at the foot of the stairs, clad in his nightgown. There was a wicked grin on his face.



"Firing squad!" Katsushiro breathed out.



"Yes, a firing squad!" Kyuzo and Ukyo echoed the child's words.



"Firing squad! Firing squad!" the other soldiers chanted.



Shichiroji was confused, torn between his duty towards his comrades and his friendship with the Noble Samurai. He looked at Kikuchiyo, who stared back at him with an unrepentant gleam in his eyes. Then, he gazed down at Gorobei's broken form. The tin soldier closed his eyes. The chants were deafening to his ears.



When he opened his eyes, Shichiroji spoke one word. "Death!"



~~~~~~~~~~



At dawn, Yukino hurried through the halls of the keep, calling Kanbei's name.



The Noble Samurai woke up with a start. The lovely thief stood at the doorway, panting for breath, her cheeks as white as paper.



"Yukino, what is it?" he asked in dread. "What's wrong?"



"It's Kikuchiyo!" Yukino gasped out. "Oh, Kanbei, you must do something!"



"What happened to Kikuchiyo?"



"They're going to execute him! By firing squad!"



"But why? And who..."



"The tin soldiers. I tried talking to the dolls, but I couldn't make any sense out of their jabbering." Reluctantly, Yukino revealed, "But they all agreed. They said Shichiroji ordered it."



The Noble Samurai's jaw dropped in shock. "You're lying! Shichiroji wouldn't do this!" Gritting his teeth, Kanbei said, "Help me, Yukino! Take me to him!"



With great difficulty, Yukino managed to assist Kanbei out of the keep, only to be horrified by the sight that greeted him.



Kikuchiyo was standing at the far wall, trussed tightly. Before him, Katsushiro had set the tin soldiers in a straight line. Their muskets were cocked and pointed at the robot farmer. Overlooking the gruesome scene on the windowsill was the tin soldier.



"Shichiroji? What's the meaning of this?" Kanbei demanded.



It was Kyuzo who answered. "Your friend killed one of our comrades. The punishment for this is death by firing squad."



"Is this true, Shichiroji? Please! Speak to me!"



Shichiroji's voice was strained. "Kikuchiyo killed Gorobei. We were going to return his shamisen, but Kikuchiyo murdered him."



"I didn't know what I was doing," Kikuchiyo interrupted, weeping. "The anger just overwhelmed me. Kanbei, help me! Please! I don't want to die!"



Out of the corner of his eye, the Noble Samurai saw the demon. "Ukyo! You're the one behind all this!"



But Ukyo simply waved his hands. "This time, I'm innocent. I did absolutely nothing!"



"YOU'RE LYING!" Kanbei turned to his friend. "Shichiroji, I'm begging you! It is in your power to stop this! Kikuchiyo was under Ukyo's influence."



"Kanbei, you yourself know how much Kikuchiyo hates me!" Shichiroji cried in anguish. "Why did he have to kill Gorobei? He should have killed me!"



"Please, Shichiroji! I ask for mercy! I know you are a kind toy! This is wrong! Surely you must see that!"



"All I see is Gorobei's broken body!"



The Noble Samurai clasped his hands together, pleading with him. "Shichiroji, I'm begging you as your friend! Please spare Kikuchiyo's life! I will do anything you ask! Anything!"



But anger and grief had a firm grip on the tin soldier's heart. He slowly raised his hand.



"READY!"



"Shichiroji, don't! Stop this! PLEASE!"



"AIM!"



"Please, Shichiroji! Don't do this!"



"FIRE!"



"NOOOO!" Kanbei screamed as the soldiers fired, their bullets piercing Kikuchiyo's body, shattering him into a thousand pieces.



Those loud pops broke through the red haze of Shichiroji's mind. Even the sight of the broken remains of what had once been the robot farmer stunned him. The tin soldier thought he would feel vindicated. Instead, the pain gnawed at his heart even more. Gazing up, he saw that Kanbei's head was bowed low, his long, coffee brown locks covering his face.



"Kanbei?" he started to ask. "Kanbei, I..."



"Are you happy now, Shichiroji?" the Noble Samurai mumbled in a voice as cold as ice. "Has justice been served?"



"Kanbei, he murdered my friend!"



"And I told you that Ukyo was behind all this. His presence here is proof of that. Are you blind? Can't you see the demon's hand in all this? Despite his rudeness to you, Kikuchiyo was a decent toy. He was a good friend...MY friend! I thought you were my friend too!"



"I AM your friend, Kanbei," Shichiroji insisted, "but I had no choice!"



"You had a choice, but you refused to see it! You became Ukyo's puppet, just like Kikuchiyo had been! I begged you as a friend, Shichiroji, to show him mercy! But you hardened your heart to me!"



"Kanbei, please try to understand..."



The Noble Samurai's head snapped up. His grief-stricken face was wet with his tears, but grief and rage shone through his eyes.



"YOU'RE NO FRIEND OF MINE!" cried Kanbei, as a wind steadily began to enter the room, swirling around him, gathering strength from his anger. "IT'S OVER BETWEEN US, SHICHIROJI!"



The tin soldier gaped at his friend in shock. "You don't mean that, Kanbei!"



"I TRUSTED YOU AND YET YOU BETRAYED OUR FRIENDSHIP! I WISH YOU NEVER CAME TO THIS HOUSE! I WISH YOU WERE NEVER CREATED!"



At that moment, the door burst open and Honoka came just in time to see the tin soldier blown out of the window by the wind.



"Katsushiro! The soldier!" she shouted to her son, who was sitting entranced beside the other soldiers.



"Let him go, Okasama!" said Katsushiro. "I never wanted him anyway!"



Honoka stared at her son aghast. Swiftly, she ran outside the house, hoping to find Shichiroji.



But the tin soldier had fallen to the busy street below. The poor toy was kicked this way and that by heavy feet, thinking it was just a pebble. Shichiroji, however, was unmindful of the damage being inflicted upon his body. All he could think about was Kanbei's last words to him, cruel words that continued to batter his broken heart. To further add to his misery, lightning cracked in the heavens and rain began to pour.



"Lookie here!" he suddenly heard a voice cry out. "It's a tin soldier!"



Two boys picked up Shichiroji, a gleam of mischief in their eyes.



"A soldier like this needs a boat, so he could get around the city," suggested the other boy.



They then made a newspaper boat and stood Shichiroji inside it. The boys set the boat onto the swirling waters of the gutter, laughing in glee as the tin soldier sailed away. Lost in his sorrow, Shichiroji did not hear Honoka calling his name, the poor woman getting drenched in the rain, as she searched high and low for him.



On Shichiroji sailed in his tiny boat, the huge waves threatening to swamp him. The boat bobbed up and down, the swift current turning it this way and that. The tin soldier should have been afraid, but Shichiroji cocked his head up proudly, standing at attention, his spear clutched tightly in his hand.



// This is my punishment for having betrayed my friend, // he thought, the rain washing away his tears. // I accept my fate willingly. //



At this thought, the boat turned left at the corner and fell into an open drain. Miracle of miracles, the boat did not capsize as it landed in the stinking waters of the sewage canal.



Then, a rat appeared, stopping the boat's progress with his paws.



"Your toll and passport, sir," the rat demanded, "or else I shall not let you pass."



"I have neither passport nor money to pay your toll," Shichiroji replied, pointing his spear at the rodent's snout. "But I have an important appointment with the Grim Reaper, and I will not be delayed by the likes of you."



The rat looked straight into his eyes, peering into Shichiroji's soul. "A murderer and a betrayer you are, I see. Yes, the Reaper would truly want to see you. Go on then, disgraced soldier! I hope you get what you deserve." He even pushed the boat on its way.



Shichiroji traveled all day and all night, praying that this journey will come to an end. As if in answer to his prayers, the stream moved faster, the current getting stronger, and a terrible roaring filled Shichiroji's ears. In the blink of an eye, the boat fell out of the drain, whirling two or three times, before it landed in the sea. The falling water from the drain filled the boat rapidly, that it began to sink deeper and deeper.



When at last the water made the paper soft and soggy, the sea engulfed the boat. For awhile, Shichiroji bobbed on the surface, but a strong undercurrent pulled him down.



// This is it then, // the tin soldier mused, surrendering to the cold murky depths. // This is how it all ends for me. //



Shichiroji called forth the image of the Noble Samurai inside his mind. He felt his heart break at that handsome smiling face.



// I'm truly sorry, Kanbei, // wept Shichiroji. // I never wanted to hurt you. Someday, my dear friend, I hope you would find it in your heart to forgive me. //



As he closed his eyes one last time, the tin soldier was swallowed by darkness.





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