owned_by_a_cat | Taming Frenzied Butterflies

Title: Taming Frenzied Butterflies
Fandom: Brave 10
Genre: Romance/Adventure
Rating: M
Pairing: Saizo/Kamanosuke, with a bit of Rokuro/Yukimura on the side

<< Part 4

Part 5: Plague

Three more days of travel brought them close to where the healer was said to reside. Kakei's brew had helped Kamanosuke recover from his wound and he was as loud and heedless as Saizō had ever seen him, complaining of boredom every step of the way. They never spoke of the inn again, or the conversation they'd had by the fire. Saizō recognised pain and unease, when once he'd only seen defiance. And where once the constant noise and challenges had irritated him, now he was able to bear them with equanimity.

He found enough moments in the day when the redhead's special brand of stubborn riled him so much that he fought the urge to bash the idiot's head into new shapes. Or maybe it was the sight of long slender legs clinging to the horse's flanks and the suggestive way Kamanosuke drew his loose, red braid through his fist over and again, the green eyes half closed in pleasure. Watching Yuri Kamanosuke, it was hard to tell at times.

"Hey! What's happening?"

The shout was loud enough to make Saizō look up. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd paid little heed to the roads, not noticing that they'd grown busy with people heading the other way carrying most of their belongings.

Kamanosuke wasn't so preoccupied. He turned and rode alongside some of the wagons, questioning the occupants.

"They're running from a plague," he apprised Saizō when he returned. He didn't sound riled, but his eyes were narrowed almost to slits. Instead of his usual loose slouch, Kamanosuke's back was rigid. "Idiots. Still, they say that we'll find the healer in Aigawa, staying with the village elders.

"We won't get that far tonight," Saizō heaved an irritated sigh. He had enough of chasing the elusive healer through the hills. He wanted the man back in Ueda. Now. Every delay spelled more pain for Rokurō and lessened the chance that he would recover his sight. It irked him beyond reason that the redhead didn't seem fazed by the delay, that he was blithely planning yet another overnight stop.

"We can stay at one of the abandoned farms," Kamanosuke crowed gleefully as they moved against the stream of traffic.

"And catch the plague?"

"There is no plague."

"How would you know?" Saizō shot back irritably.

Kamanosuke gestured at the wagons. "Nobody is sick," he pointed out. "And we've seen no fresh graves."

"Maybe they didn't bury their dead."

"Yeah," the redhead drawled, smirking. "The bodies just vanished... "

For once, Kamanosuke made sense, but Saizō would die fighting rather than admit that aloud. "So why are they all running away... if it isn't a plague?" he queried instead.

"I'm not the one running," Kamanosuke shrugged, half-querulous, half-unconcerned. "I suggest you ask them."

Saizō did nothing of the sort. He stopped arguing with the redhead, kept away from the fleeing civilians as best he could and watched the shadows lengthen across their path. Saizō had lived through a plague. He had seen friend and foe fall to its silent onslaught, had watched them being left alone to suffer and die before being tossed aside like garbage. If he never saw the like again, it would be too soon.

"This looks like a good place," Kamanosuke declared as the sun reached the horizon and a smart-looking farmhouse loomed ahead of them. The grounds were well tended. Vegetables grew in neat rows beside the house and a small, fast-running stream cut through the back garden. "There's even a proper well."

"What's exciting about a well, moron?" Saizō grumbled, reluctant to stop in the abandoned farmstead despite his fatigue.

"Honestly?" Kamanosuke countered. "You're bristling with ninja skills, but they didn't teach you that deep wells provide cleaner water?"

"Wells can be poisoned," Saizō defended himself, only to see Kamanosuke roll his eyes.

"Lame, Saizō. That's just lame." He hopped off his horse, leaving the reins dangling carelessly, and made his way to the back entrance of the farmhouse. The signs of a hasty departure were anywhere and Saizō watched Kamanosuke's back grow rigid once more.

"What?" he called out, swinging down from his mount. He tethered the two horses and neared his companion, fingers hovering near his kunai.

"Nothing."

What Saizō heard in the redhead's voice wasn't nothing. Kamanosuke's voice burned with emotion. With something so intense that Saizō recoiled from its fierce fire. By the time Saizō reached the place where Yuri had been standing, the redhead had already turned away. Saizō's eyes fell on a small ragdoll laying by the door, dropped by a child on the way out, maybe, next to a few simple geta sitting in an untidy pile... nothing that should have upset his companion.

With a sigh, Saizō turned aside. "Do you really want to stay here?"

"Yes," Kamanosuke yelled back. "But not inside."

Saizō's sigh of relief was silent, but heartfelt. He didn't want to have to admit his fears to Kamanosuke, any more than the redhead wanted to talk about the scars on his back or his knowledge of footpads' ways. They were well matched that way, each carrying secrets. Not for the first time, Saizō wondered if that was the reason Sanada had chosen Kamanosuke to go with Saizō. Or whether he'd seen... what Saizō had tried to hide even from himself.

xxX oOo Xxx

The healer was a small man of indeterminate years, with large, deep brown eyes in a delicate face. He sat cross-legged outside the village elder's house beside a fire, a chopping board across his lap. Bundles of herbs and roots lay on the ground next to him and various pots sat around the outside of the fire, the contents cooling. At first glance, the man looked young to be so powerful a healer, his brow smooth and the corners of his eyes without a line or wrinkle. His hands were a much better indication of his age. Rough and calloused, the skin was cracked from using harsh soaps and astringents, the fingertips stained from the sap of healing plants, the knuckles abraded from grating bark and digging roots.

"You're here for drugs to cure the fever?" he asked tiredly when the two nin pulled their mounts to a stop beside him.

"No." Saizō dismounted and bowed. The man might look kind and unprepossessing, but he had a reputation powerful enough to have come to the notice of the Lord of Ueda. That alone assured Saizō's respect. "Sanada Yukimura, the lord of Ueda, sent us to fetch you. One of our companions was gravely injured in an attack. He needs your help."

"I see." The healer didn't take his eyes from the mixture bubbling in a small pot sitting close to the fire. "Tell me what happened."

Saizō did so, aware of Kamanosuke dismounting beside him, of the redhead's eyes tracing everything from the small tidy houses to the healer's fire, from the pale, wan forms sitting in the sun, tended by relatives, to the sway of tall reeds in the distance and the flight of geese overhead.

"This injured companion of yours," the healer said when Saizō had fallen silent. "Is it Unno Rokurō?"

Saizō stared. "Yes," he finally admitted. "How did you know?"

"The lord of Ueda is skilled at the healing arts," the man answered. "So is Rokurō. They rarely need my help."

"Will you come with us and help him?"

"I am needed here."

"You can cure the plague?"

"It isn't the plague." The healer moved the bubbling pot from the fire and put another in its place. "It's merely a fever, common in these parts. It returns every few months."

"It's the air from the swamp," Kamanosuke said suddenly from behind Saizō. "It kills. Slowly."

Saizō spun and found the redhead leaning against a willow growing beside the elder's house, looking towards the expanse of swaying reeds. The kusarigama was in his hands, the sickle swinging idly.

"A demon or evil spirit, you mean?"

Kamanosuke shook his head. "I have killed men who were monsters. But I've never met a demon. And this is just bad air. It kills."

The healer regarded Kamanosuke curiously. "Very few of the villagers actually die from the fever," he offered.

"But it leaves the survivors weak for a long time after," Kamanosuke replied, as if this was understood. "Too weak to fend for themselves and too weak to fight. Easy targets.”

Saizō had to strain to hear the words as Kamanosuke's voice grew softer and softer. The beautiful green eyes narrowed. Their expression hardened and froze in a way Saizō had begun to recognise. The redhead was bound and determined to deal with this plague... this fever, even though Saizō could not fathom how to defeat a disease. But he recalled the feel of old scars under his fingertips and sighed. It was not part of their task here, but there was no way he could deny Kamanosuke's need. Not after having yet another glimpse in the young man's past.

As if he felt Saizō's gaze, Kamanosuke suddenly straightened. He stepped away from the willow and squared his shoulders. "The only way to stop the fever returning is to destroy the swamp," he declared, voice so sure and firm that it didn't even occur to Saizō to question his words.

"How do you destroy a swamp?" Saizō asked instead quietly, moving to stand by Kamanosuke's side. The healer and the grey-haired village elder also drew closer to listen.

"Drain it or drown it," Kamanosuke replied, staring at the expanse of reeds and open water as if it were an enemy to be vanquished.

Saizō looked expectantly at the village elder. "What would you prefer?"

Part 6 >>