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Fandom: Samurai 7
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kyuuzou/Heihachi
Summary: These are two interludes between Kyuuzou and Heihachi taking place right after the last fight with the bandits.
Word count: 376
Heihachi leans back against Kyuuzou’s chest, safely ensconced between his legs, happy for this brief respite in his warm embrace. Kyuuzou had appeared unexpectedly at the door to the house, his hair sleek with damp, a bowl of rice in his hand with two chopsticks intertwined. He’d heard that Heihachi had asked for some earlier, before the last bandits had come to avenge their dead and succeeded in taking one of the samurai’s own. Heihachi had offered him some, but Kyuuzou refused, saying, “I brought it for you.” Heihachi chews his rice silently. The normally sweet taste is blunted by thoughts of Gorobei. Kyuuzou’s hand brushes over the freshly laid bandages covering Heihachi’s waist, careful to stay away from the wound itself, his touch so light that Heihachi scarcely feels it on his skin.
“Does it hurt much?” Kyuuzou’s voice floats warmly behind his ear.
“Nah,” Heihachi says. “Nothing I won’t live through. It smarts some, but if I don’t move too much I’m fine. It’s nothing, really, considering the rest.”
Silence tightens around them like the ghost of a day long gone. The chopsticks ring dully as Heihachi drops them into the bowl.
Kyuuzou’s lips whisper along his jawbone. Heihachi’s eyes droop. He sets the bowl on the floor next to them and settles into the sweet caress, smiling. He grips Kyuuzou’s arms, which wrap around his torso, holding him securely.
“You came close to death.” Kyuuzou’s voice trembles along Heihachi’s collarbone, softer than at any other time that Heihachi’s heard it. His hand settles over Heihachi’s heart.
“Don’t worry,” Heihachi says comfortingly, despite the tremors that still haunt his mind. “I won’t leave yet. But I have a feeling that it won‘t be long before I also walk in Gorobei‘s footsteps.”
Kyuuzou’s arms tense on his chest. “I have a score to settle. When it’s done, I’ll follow.”
The words fall on them like the rain striking the already beaten ground.
Heihachi holds Kyuuzou’s hand firmly.
“No need for you too hurry,” he says.
Kyuuzou shakes his head, his hair air like on Heihachi’s face.
“I have that feeling as well.”
A sea of cold air slips through the openings in the wooden wall, covering them in a flurry of memories not yet lived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
````````````````
Word count: 647
The small house creaks with growling thunder and the whip sharp crack of lighting cutting the sky in two, flashing light burning the heavens. The world weeps silver tears for her dead, whose blood stains the ground red, scarlet flowers on the brown earth. Cries of celebration meld in one sinuous sequence with the laments of the injured and those whose husbands and sons didn’t come home. Crimson dreams slither behind Heihachi’s eyes, chasing away sleep with jagged teeth. His wound throbs under the freshly laid bandages. He feels it with his hand, careful not to spark the blinding jolts of pain that froze his blood during the eternal rush when the world seemed to have lost its center and he thought he would die on that broken battlefield, surrounded by screaming and the wild beating of his own heart.
Footsteps light as moth wings approach Heihachi‘s recumbent form. He turns his head. Kyuuzou’s face is a ghost of gloom and shadow, but his eyes glow with a keen intensity that pierces through the veil of night. He sits on the floor next to Heihachi, his movements as measured and silent as those that killed countless men hours before. He folds his legs beneath him, laying his double sheath across his chest. The metal hilts glint like stars on the cold firmament.
“Have you come to guard me?” Heihachi murmurs, his jesting words disguising the surprise that rises in him at Kyuuzou’s unexpected appearance.
“I’ll watch over your sleep.” Kyuuzou’s speaks with his usual focused detachment, yet his voice wafts over Heihachi’s troubled mind like a warm blanket.
“The bandits are gone now.”
Kyuuzou observes him for a long moment. “Not from your thoughts.”
Heihachi smiles wryly, kneading his blanket with unsteady fingers.
“Sleep,” Kyuuzou says.
Heihachi closes his eyes, obeying the soothing voice that breathes gently on his fragmented thoughts.
``````````````
Wind rustles through the narrow openings on the walls. Heihachi opens his eyes, another nameless dream already fading into the peace less oblivion whence it came. Kyuuzou is turned away from him. A stray ray of moonlight filters through the boards, streaking his robe red with the graceful swipe of a painter’s brush. His yellow hair shines above his shoulders, obscuring his face in its radiant light, save for the pointed tip of his nose and his closed mouth. He’s looking at Heihachi’s katana, which stands against the wall, ready should its owner need it. Kyuuzou holds the doll that hangs from it in loose fingers, ghostly white on midnight black. The little figure winks at him, enigmatic smile glimmering with a shared secret. A pale thumb strokes the white cloth. Kyuuzou’s mouth softens. Warm contentment pools in Heihachi’s belly. He closes his eyes, hoping his smile doesn’t sparkle too much in the dark.
``````````````
He wakes to the firm press of a hand on his shoulder. He feels it through the wispy remnants of a dream that flees as the warmth lifts, leaving his skin cold and bare. Fabric swishes near his ear, accompanied by the dull clatter of boots walking away. Heihachi opens his eyes to a room made bright by the welcome arrival of the sun. Quickly, he lifts himself up on his elbows and turns around, calling out Kyuuzou’s name. Kyuuzou stops, but he doesn’t turn.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Heihachi asks.
Kyuuzou stands as tall and still as a tree in the full bloom of autumn, bracing itself for the coming frost. He speaks with the softness of the morning breeze. “Yes.”
“He won’t take long,” Heihachi says. “Just needs to get the job done. You’ll hurry back then, won’t you?”
Kyuuzou turns slightly, enough so that Heihachi can see his face. His eyes have lost none of their ardor. He inclines his head and says firmly, “I will.”
Heihachi watches him go, his smile bright in the sun’s warmth.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kyuuzou/Heihachi
Summary: These are two interludes between Kyuuzou and Heihachi taking place right after the last fight with the bandits.
Word count: 376
Heihachi leans back against Kyuuzou’s chest, safely ensconced between his legs, happy for this brief respite in his warm embrace. Kyuuzou had appeared unexpectedly at the door to the house, his hair sleek with damp, a bowl of rice in his hand with two chopsticks intertwined. He’d heard that Heihachi had asked for some earlier, before the last bandits had come to avenge their dead and succeeded in taking one of the samurai’s own. Heihachi had offered him some, but Kyuuzou refused, saying, “I brought it for you.” Heihachi chews his rice silently. The normally sweet taste is blunted by thoughts of Gorobei. Kyuuzou’s hand brushes over the freshly laid bandages covering Heihachi’s waist, careful to stay away from the wound itself, his touch so light that Heihachi scarcely feels it on his skin.
“Does it hurt much?” Kyuuzou’s voice floats warmly behind his ear.
“Nah,” Heihachi says. “Nothing I won’t live through. It smarts some, but if I don’t move too much I’m fine. It’s nothing, really, considering the rest.”
Silence tightens around them like the ghost of a day long gone. The chopsticks ring dully as Heihachi drops them into the bowl.
Kyuuzou’s lips whisper along his jawbone. Heihachi’s eyes droop. He sets the bowl on the floor next to them and settles into the sweet caress, smiling. He grips Kyuuzou’s arms, which wrap around his torso, holding him securely.
“You came close to death.” Kyuuzou’s voice trembles along Heihachi’s collarbone, softer than at any other time that Heihachi’s heard it. His hand settles over Heihachi’s heart.
“Don’t worry,” Heihachi says comfortingly, despite the tremors that still haunt his mind. “I won’t leave yet. But I have a feeling that it won‘t be long before I also walk in Gorobei‘s footsteps.”
Kyuuzou’s arms tense on his chest. “I have a score to settle. When it’s done, I’ll follow.”
The words fall on them like the rain striking the already beaten ground.
Heihachi holds Kyuuzou’s hand firmly.
“No need for you too hurry,” he says.
Kyuuzou shakes his head, his hair air like on Heihachi’s face.
“I have that feeling as well.”
A sea of cold air slips through the openings in the wooden wall, covering them in a flurry of memories not yet lived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
````````````````
Word count: 647
The small house creaks with growling thunder and the whip sharp crack of lighting cutting the sky in two, flashing light burning the heavens. The world weeps silver tears for her dead, whose blood stains the ground red, scarlet flowers on the brown earth. Cries of celebration meld in one sinuous sequence with the laments of the injured and those whose husbands and sons didn’t come home. Crimson dreams slither behind Heihachi’s eyes, chasing away sleep with jagged teeth. His wound throbs under the freshly laid bandages. He feels it with his hand, careful not to spark the blinding jolts of pain that froze his blood during the eternal rush when the world seemed to have lost its center and he thought he would die on that broken battlefield, surrounded by screaming and the wild beating of his own heart.
Footsteps light as moth wings approach Heihachi‘s recumbent form. He turns his head. Kyuuzou’s face is a ghost of gloom and shadow, but his eyes glow with a keen intensity that pierces through the veil of night. He sits on the floor next to Heihachi, his movements as measured and silent as those that killed countless men hours before. He folds his legs beneath him, laying his double sheath across his chest. The metal hilts glint like stars on the cold firmament.
“Have you come to guard me?” Heihachi murmurs, his jesting words disguising the surprise that rises in him at Kyuuzou’s unexpected appearance.
“I’ll watch over your sleep.” Kyuuzou’s speaks with his usual focused detachment, yet his voice wafts over Heihachi’s troubled mind like a warm blanket.
“The bandits are gone now.”
Kyuuzou observes him for a long moment. “Not from your thoughts.”
Heihachi smiles wryly, kneading his blanket with unsteady fingers.
“Sleep,” Kyuuzou says.
Heihachi closes his eyes, obeying the soothing voice that breathes gently on his fragmented thoughts.
``````````````
Wind rustles through the narrow openings on the walls. Heihachi opens his eyes, another nameless dream already fading into the peace less oblivion whence it came. Kyuuzou is turned away from him. A stray ray of moonlight filters through the boards, streaking his robe red with the graceful swipe of a painter’s brush. His yellow hair shines above his shoulders, obscuring his face in its radiant light, save for the pointed tip of his nose and his closed mouth. He’s looking at Heihachi’s katana, which stands against the wall, ready should its owner need it. Kyuuzou holds the doll that hangs from it in loose fingers, ghostly white on midnight black. The little figure winks at him, enigmatic smile glimmering with a shared secret. A pale thumb strokes the white cloth. Kyuuzou’s mouth softens. Warm contentment pools in Heihachi’s belly. He closes his eyes, hoping his smile doesn’t sparkle too much in the dark.
``````````````
He wakes to the firm press of a hand on his shoulder. He feels it through the wispy remnants of a dream that flees as the warmth lifts, leaving his skin cold and bare. Fabric swishes near his ear, accompanied by the dull clatter of boots walking away. Heihachi opens his eyes to a room made bright by the welcome arrival of the sun. Quickly, he lifts himself up on his elbows and turns around, calling out Kyuuzou’s name. Kyuuzou stops, but he doesn’t turn.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Heihachi asks.
Kyuuzou stands as tall and still as a tree in the full bloom of autumn, bracing itself for the coming frost. He speaks with the softness of the morning breeze. “Yes.”
“He won’t take long,” Heihachi says. “Just needs to get the job done. You’ll hurry back then, won’t you?”
Kyuuzou turns slightly, enough so that Heihachi can see his face. His eyes have lost none of their ardor. He inclines his head and says firmly, “I will.”
Heihachi watches him go, his smile bright in the sun’s warmth.
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“The bandits are gone now.” Kyuuzou observes him for a long moment. “Not from your thoughts.”
You managed to show a caring side of Kyuzo, and the way he helps without calling Heiha weak, is nice.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Heihachi asks
Is a beautiful moment, it's saying so much more than words.
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There should be more Heihachi and Kyuzo fics out there.
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