The Blazing Tempest

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.


THE BLAZING TEMPEST
By Rory V. Pascual (Edited by Saiyukihana)
© Original Version 2001; Samurai 7 Version June 18, 2006


Chapter Three

Night had fallen on the oasis. After sharing an evening repast with Tessai and Gorobei in the adviser's tent, where they had discussed any potential problems and dangers they might encounter on their route, Shichiroji decided to take a stroll around the camp. It was not because he wanted to be certain that all was well, which it was with all the servants and guards resting in their tents, except for the two who stood before the concubine's lodgings. The next shift will come after two hours. The reason why he dilly-dallied was because he wanted to be ready for his lesson with Shinno. As the hours wore on, however, there was no indication that this particular service of him was needed this night. There was only silence at the large tent. Masamune had not been seen all day. Shichiroji suspected that the whoremaster was still very angry with him. Such a shame! He was so looking forward to another evening with the Amanushi's precious whore.

Rather than wait any longer, the Samurai went straight to his tent, where a tub of clean water waited for him. After a quick bath, Shichiroji collapsed onto the soft cushions and immediately fell asleep.

Exhausted as he was, he did not sense the shadow that was creeping outside his tent. Neither did he hear the soft tearing sound of the canvas as it was being slit open with a dagger. Shichiroji was lost in a blissful dream of two masked whores driving him insane with their sexual expertise. One of the whores was a stubborn little minx who rebelled against his sadistic desires.

"Come here, Shinno!" Shichiroji mumbled in his sleep, oblivious to the tall figure in black who was glaring down at him. "I will not tolerate disobedience! Now, raise your garments that I may give your luscious backside a good paddling!"

WHACK!

Shichiroji cried out in pain, as he woke up with a start. He would have sat up at once if his bruised bum had not been given three more solid blows. Instead, he rolled over onto his side, only to find himself alone, and the cold night air blowing through the slit of his tent.

Swiftly, the Samurai got dressed, ignoring the pain in his backside. As he emerged through the cut opening of his tent, his eyes immediately focused upon the figure standing on top of a sand dune, illumined by the light of the moon. It was the ninja! Shichiroji knew, that behind that mask, the assassin was grinning at him. Sure enough, the ninja slapped his butt, mocking the Samurai. Giving the Warrior that snappy salute, he leaped down from the dune and out of sight.

"I'm going to get you for this, you bastard!" Shichiroji muttered under his breath as he secured his spear at his back.

The golden-haired warrior was about to give chase when he almost collided with Masamune, who appeared from behind one of the camels.

"Shichiroji!" the scribe exclaimed in surprise. "Just the man I was looking for!"

However, Shichiroji snarled, "GET OUT OF MY WAY!", and pushed past him.

Masamune scratched his head quizzically as he looked at the departing figure. "What's the matter with him?"

As swift as the wind, Shichiroji raced up the dune, his feet barely touching the sand. Reaching the top, he saw that the ninja had already reached the bottom and was running across the desert. Rather than slide along the side of the dune, the Samurai jumped off from the top, his legs kicking out as he glided down. Using that same technique, Shichiroji pursued the assassin, like a rock skipping above water, the distance closing between them.

Suddenly, the ninja whirled around, his arm sweeping in a wide arc. Something flashed in the moonlight, bearing down on the Warrior. Shichiroji barely got out of the way as shurikens whizzed past him, the sharp throwing stars hitting the sand hard. The Samurai thought he heard a frustrated growl from his prey ahead of him.

"It's not going to work!" Shichiroji shouted. "It's going to take more than that to kill me!"

Undaunted, the assassin pressed onward, scrambling up and over the sand dune. But the Samurai was determined to catch his prey. Reaching the foot of the dune, Shichiroji took a deep breath, concentrating hard, willing his body to become as light as a feather. Then, he leaped into the air and let the desert wind carry him over the dune.

"There is no escape for you now!" the Warrior laughed as he began to descend.

However, instead of his quarry, Shichiroji saw two men standing in the wadi below. It was too late to check his fall. As he bore down on them, the Samurai closed his eyes and braced himself for impact. Shichiroji landed, and landed hard...right on top of one of the men.

Before the Samurai could get his wits together, furious fists pounded at his skull and a very familiar voice roared, "GET OFF ME, YOU FILTHY SON OF A DONKEY!"

With his head ringing from those blows, Shichiroji somehow managed to grab those flailing fists and yelled back, "IF YOU DON'T STOP HITTING ME, I'LL DECK YOU A GOOD ONE, SHINNO!"

Strong hands hauled the Samurai to his feet. He glowered darkly at Gorobei, who was giggling heartily. Shrugging off the moor's hands, Shichiroji brushed the sand from his clothes. Seeing that the Warrior was all right, Gorobei went to Shinno's aid. As he stood up, the whoremaster's eyes fell upon what looked like dark lines on the seat of Shichiroji's trousers, illuminated by the flickering light of the torches Gorobei had tied to the palm trees.

"What happened to you?" Shinno asked curiously.

"That damned ninja whacked me in the butt while I was sleeping!" Shichiroji declared furiously. It dismayed him to hear his voice coming out as a whine.

To his greater chagrin, Shinno burst into laughter. "I couldn't have done it better myself!"

The Samurai whirled around and glared at the veiled man. "Do you want me to lay you over my lap and give you a good walloping with a paddle?"

"You'd like that, won't you! Because you're a pervert!"

Gorobei raised his hands, finding himself in an uncomfortable position as arbiter. "Now, now, gentlemen! Let's calm down! No one's hurt. Everything is just fine!"

"Everything will be fine once I get my hands on that ninja's scrawny neck!" Shichiroji retorted in a fury.

"There are no ninjas here, you old fool!" yelled Shinno. "Only you stampeding all over the place and crushing innocent bystanders. You've probably just imagined that bloody ninja."

The Samurai showed the black stripes on his butt once more to the two men. "Does this look like something I just imagined?"

"You're a samurai!" the whoremaster countered. "Your smelly ass will survive!"

"But that ninja definitely won't, once I find him!"

Shinno breathed in exasperation. "Would you forget about that damned ninja? You've already wasted too much time getting here, not to mention babbling like an idiot. Didn't Masamune tell you that I needed you right now?"

Shichiroji remembered the scribe he had nearly bumped into while in pursuit of the ninja. Grudgingly, he admitted, "Masamune never got the chance to tell me."

"I guessed as much, because you were too damned busy chasing shadows." Shinno stood with his feet wide apart, right hand on his waist and head cocked to the side as he scowled at the Samurai. "This is not what I pay you for."

Shichiroji found himself staring at the man before him. As usual, Shinno was dressed in desert garb. This time, however, he opted for a lighter shade of brown. His face was still covered by a silk scarf. But Shichiroji could see those beautiful brown eyes, the gaze as sharp as daggers. The Warrior could swear Shinno would kill him with those piercing eyes alone if it were in his power to do so. But then again, the slim, curved blade in his hand would be sufficient enough to do the job.

"A taisenshatou!" Shichiroji blurted out in surprise, recognizing that strong sword.

"Yes," Shinno affirmed, caressing the hilt with his long, graceful fingers. "It IS a taisenshatou." Tilting his head, he asked, "I suppose you're wondering how I came by such a fine blade."

"I must admit the thought has crossed my mind."

"I came by this sword during my...travels." There was such sadness in Shinno's voice. "It was a gift to me by a samurai. His name was Shimada Kanbei."

"Shimada…Kanbei?" A pang of hurt pierced Shichiroji's heart. Remembering the painful circumstances of their partner, the Samurai cocked an eyebrow up and added in derision, "For...services...rendered perhaps?"

Shinno's eyes flashed with anger. "You have the gall to make such a remark! Kanbei-sama was a good man, an HONORABLE man. If he had the chance, he would have freed me."

"Freed you from what?"

"From...from Hell! This very same hell that he himself was trapped in!" was Shinno's cryptic reply.

At once, the whoremaster turned his face away, but Shichiroji already saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

// So, // Shichiroji mused, the fact confirmed, // our whoremaster is indeed a whore himself. //

"What happened to him?"

Shinno's answer was a soft sob. "Rather than to endure the shame any longer, he committed seppuku."

"Ritual suicide." The Warrior shook his head in sorrow. "Death before dishonor. Shinno, I beg your forgiveness. I did not mean to make you remember the pains of the past."

"The past will always haunt me, unless I break the chains binding me to it. That was why Kanbei-sama taught me how to use the katana. Before he died, he gave me his sword. 'Break the chains with this sword,' he said. 'Regain the honor that was lost to you. Find a new teacher to take my place.' "

"And you have found one," said Shichiroji firmly. "However, I am not a very patient man. You must show me that you are willing to learn."

"Do not worry, Shichiroji," Shinno assured him. The Samurai could swear the man was grinning under his scarf. "You'll find that I'm a fast learner."

"Maybe you should remove your scarf," suggested Shichiroji. "So you could see better."

The whoremaster laughed at that remark. "Shrewd, Shichiroji! Very shrewd! I could see perfectly. You don't have anything to worry about, except your neck. Though you are my trainer, Kanbei-sama still taught me a thing or two about the sword. Even Gorobei here as well." He fell silent. Wickedly, Shinno continued, "Maybe you should keep something in mind. It is the Amanushi's wish that my face be covered. He said that...the beauty of my face...is for his enjoyment alone. Which is just as well, for I am fiercely protective of my anonymity. If you should desire to see my face, Gorobei will not hesitate to geld you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Shichiroji nodded his head. Taking the sword that Gorobei handed to him, he declared, "Let me test your skills then."

The two men sparred for several hours. True to his claim, Shinno was indeed proficient in the Eastern sword styles. He was also a very quick learner, displaying excellent adaptability. He could easily find a way out of a potentially fatal move. Shichiroji was constantly kept on his toes, finding himself many times on the defensive. And something troubled him as well.

// Shinno acts like he's familiar with my fight style, // the Samurai observed. // But that's impossible! //

Then, there's the manner by which the man fought. The whoremaster moved with ruthlessness and cunning, and anger, there's no denying that.

// The way he's determined to pound me into the dirt, // Shichiroji mused, // it's obvious Shinno harbors a grudge against me. But why? //

If there's one thing Shichiroji knew, however, one should never let anger and hatred cloud the mind during a sword fight. Plus, the Warrior still has an edge over the whoremaster, namely years of experience in battle.

When Shinno attempted a hacking blow, the Samurai blocked it with his left arm, a loud clang coming from it. As the sleeve of his shirt was torn, the whoremaster saw that Shichiroji's whole arm was made completely of metal. With a sweep of his foot, the Warrior kicked Shinno's legs from under him. Caught off balance, the whoremaster fell to the ground. Before he could get up, the point of Shichiroji's katana was at his throat.

"First lesson you should always remember," Shichiroji declared, breathing hard. "Never allow yourself to get carried away by your emotions. It might prove disastrous." He raised the point towards Shinno's face, playing with the soft silk over his face.

"Shinno?" Gorobei asked in concern, pulling out his sword.

But the whoremaster waved him back. "I'm fine, Gorobei. Shichiroji is right. I...lost...myself for a moment there." Shichiroji raised a hand to his student. Shinno, however, did not take the offered assistance and got to his feet on his own. "I think we've had enough for this night. Masamune will give you your gold." Slowly, he commented, "I believe you would like to avail of the...services...of our Little Taisho again tonight."

" 'Little Taisho?' " Shichiroji asked curiously.

"That's what the Amanushi calls his...his favorite catamite." The seething rage in Shinno's tone of voice was apparent to Shichiroji. "An offensive name, don't you think? To mock a man's dream by giving him a title that could never be attained?"

"What is there to take offense about? It is just a pet name after all. Every whore has one."

"Yes!" Shinno hissed in fury. "And you treated him like the whore that he is. Masamune told me everything that has happened between the two of you last night."

"Masamune doesn't know how to keep his eyes and his mouth shut. I don't think it's any of your concern!"

"When it's rape, I make it my concern!" Shinno took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "I thought you would be different. I guess I was wrong. If I had known, I would never have agreed to this arrangement."

"Why should you care about a concubine?" asked Shichiroji in sarcasm. "Doesn't the gold you pay me come from the selling of flesh?"

The whoremaster shook his head. "For someone with your…wealth…of experience, you know so little."

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think. I was once a whore myself, and I have known men of your ilk. You say you care, but you fill your coffers with gold paid for lost innocence and sated lust. You're just a hypocrite!"

"If that is how you think of me, then so be it," said Shinno in finality. "But the greater hypocrite is the man who claims to have experienced and survived the pains of prostitution, and yet uses a whore like a piece of meat, just like the people he had serviced in the past." Picking up his sword, he pointed it angrily at the Samurai. "Shichiroji, a warning for you. Contrary to what you believe, I DO care very deeply for the people under me, Takeru especially. He has suffered so much at the hands of the Amanushi. I will not see you do the same to him. It was my decision to keep his identity concealed under veils and in the cover of darkness, like me. It's unfortunate that the Amanushi had placed his mark on him. When he is free, no one will know what he was, except for Masamune, Gorobei and I."

"And the Amanushi," Shichiroji quickly added.

"Yes," agreed Shinno. "That's why, when I've freed Takeru, so will the Amanushi fall to my blade. You, Shichiroji, will die too, if you persist in finding out what he looks like."

The Warrior laughed mockingly. "As if you could succeed where countless other samurai have tried and failed. I'm a survivor, Shinno. I don't die easily."

"This is not an idle threat." With much ceremony, Shinno sheathed his sword. "Treat Takeru well, Shichiroji. He has a good heart, only desiring to please you. Do not take advantage of this by hurting him. If you were a whore before, you should know how you would want a paying customer to treat you."

Before Shichiroji could utter a retort, a dust devil suddenly swirled around them. When the wind subsided and the sand settled down, Shinno and Gorobei had disappeared.

Shichiroji gritted his teeth as he stormed back to camp. Shinno's parting words to him continued to ring in his ears.

"How dare he speak to me that way!" the Samurai fumed under his breath. "HOW DARE HE!"

Reaching the camp, Shichiroji strode into the concubine's tent, shoving the flap aside. As he expected, there was only a single brazier, casting a dim glow on the man who was reading a book by its light. Noticing the Warrior out of the corner of his eye, Takeru let the veil cover his face and stood up. Shichiroji felt his breath catch in his throat when he beheld the concubine's graceful masculinity silhouetted under his gossamer robes by the lamplight.

As Takeru slowly went towards him, Shinno's words returned to him.

"If you were a whore before, you should know how you would want a paying customer to treat you."

The concubine must have seen the feral gleam in Shichiroji's eyes because he stopped dead in his tracks. It was the Samurai who closed the gap between them.

Grabbing Takeru's shoulders, Shichiroji snarled, "No one tells me how I should treat my bed mates! NO ONE!"

Suddenly, the Warrior found himself flipped through the air. As he fell to the ground, the wind was knocked out of him. Gazing up in surprise, Shichiroji saw Takeru standing above him, legs apart, his entire posture defensive.

"You!" he exclaimed. "You did this?"

The concubine was taken aback. For a moment, he hesitated, not knowing whether he should help the Samurai up or flee. Shichiroji took advantage of Takeru's indecision. Swiftly getting to his feet, he tackled the concubine, slamming him hard against the center post. Takeru struggled to free himself from Shichiroji's grasp, pounding on his chest and kicking out, but the angry warrior had him trapped.

"Yes! That's it!" Shichiroji cried as the man in his arms tried in vain to break free. "Fight! I love a fighter! It only makes the experience more exciting!"

Whirling the man around, the Warrior removed his belt and secured Takeru's wrists to the center post, making him bend over. With the concubine helpless, Shichiroji forced himself upon Takeru, taking him brutally. Except for the whimper of pain at the first thrust, the concubine kept his mouth shut, stifling the cries rising up his throat. Defeated, he gave the Samurai free rein to abuse his body. And Shichiroji did just that.

Riled up by Shinno's words, Shichiroji vented all his anger and frustrations on Takeru. He raped him, not just at the post, but everywhere he could lay the poor concubine's body over. Shichiroji treated him like a piece of meat, taking advantage of his stamina to ruthlessly ravish the man. But throughout the plundering of his tender flesh, not once did Takeru utter a sound.

Dawn saw the two men lying on the woven mat and blankets. Spent, Shichiroji pulled his softening member out of the concubine's battered body. As the Warrior lay back on the pillows, he watched as Takeru slowly sat up and fixed his bloodstained robes, as well as the veil over his head. He limped towards the small table. Taking the basin, he filled it with water from the pitcher. He then slung a clean piece of cloth over his arm and, basin in his hands, he went back towards the Samurai.

Laying the basin on the mat, Takeru dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it. To Shichiroji's surprise, the concubine knelt at his side and began washing his face.

Gripping the man's wrist, Shichiroji queried, "Why are you doing this?"

Gently, Takeru pried the Samurai's fingers loose and continued cleansing Shichiroji's face and body.

"If you think this is going to change things between us," Shichiroji began, "you're wrong. I'll do anything I like with you. Not even Shinno is going to stop me."

At that remark, the concubine stopped what he was doing, breathing in deeply. Shichiroji could see the anger the man was suppressing in the way his right hand gripped the cloth.

The Warrior smiled in amusement. "Tessai told me you were rebellious, Takeru. Do you also fight your Master, the Amanushi? You have nothing more to lose, you know."

At this remark, Takeru hurled the cloth furiously at the far corner of the tent. As the cloth hit the canvas, there was a strangled cry as the concubine realized what he had just done.

"Takeru…" the concubine heard the samurai mutter his name ominously. "I will not tolerate rebellion and disobedience. Lie down."

Hearing this, the concubine buried his face in his hands, shaking his head frantically.

"I said, LIE DOWN!"

Knowing it was futile to fight back, Takeru did as he was told. Tears trickling from his eyes, he lay back on the mat, pulling his robe up to his waist, and spread his long legs. His trembling hands gripped the hem of the veil tightly, yanking it down over his face.

"I have no interest in seeing your face," said Shichiroji as his fingers pulled the sleeve off Takeru's left shoulder, yanking it down that his firm chest was bared. Nipping the turgid nipple between his lips caused the poor man to shudder all over.

Positioning himself between the concubine's legs, the Samurai flicked his tongue over the sensitive nubs. "Don't take this personally, Takeru," Shichiroji murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I really do not treat my lovers like the way I've been treating you. It's just that...well, it's your misfortune that you happen to be the Amanushi's precious catamite. You're just the first step on the road to my vengeance."

At these words, Takeru gasped in shock. Then, in despair, he turned his face away, the tears wetting his veil.

"It's such a pity you can't speak," said the Samurai, clucking his tongue. "You could tell the Amanushi that I'm coming for him."

As Shichiroji thrust into the concubine, he did not notice that Takeru had become still. If he had only pulled back the veil, the Warrior would have seen the smoldering anger and revulsion on the concubine's face.


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