Bound by Blood

This is a fic taking place before the events of Bushido Blade two. Tatsumi returns to the Meikyokan after spending years away, honing his skills. Chihiro wants a little fresh air from the confines of his family’s dojo. Rated for sex and some violence. We are poor! Do not sue us! XD

Italics for thoughts

Please read and enjoy!


Bound by Blood
Chapter Two:

Tatsumi made his way through the streets, glancing around idly as his mind wandered. He hadn’t really expected to hear from the boy again—at least, not after five days had passed with no word—but here he was, heading down towards the harbor and a small café to meet with Chihiro. I’m glad he called. For some reason…he’s been on my mind a lot lately….

Entering the small restaurant, he smiled to himself as he recognized the back of the boy’s head. Still in all that fancy clothing. He’s going to make me look bad--these jeans are damn old. Hurrying across the room, he tapped the kid on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Chihiro twisted, a wide grin alighting his features. “Hey, you made it.” He waved happily at the seat across from him. “Come on, sit--I tried to order us drinks but they said I don’t look old enough.” He made a face. He came. He could have bounced in his chair he was so happy--now that it wasn’t night out he could clearly see the older boy’s face, how…oddly familiar, and handsome, he looked.

He chuckled faintly as he sat. “That’s all right--I don’t usually drink, anyway.” Tatsumi settled into the chair with a sigh, grateful to be off his feet after a long day of training at the dojo. Though, now that I see him, he does look rather young. “How old are you, anyway?” he asked without thinking.

“Fifteen,” Chihiro replied lightly, trying to straighten in his chair. “Sixteen, soon. But I’m not some kid, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he added knowingly. “I happen to be very mature for my age.” I don’t want to discourage him, after all. Though…it might be too late for that, by how he’s watching me. “What about you?”

Not as young as I thought. “I’m seventeen,” he admitted. “Some maturity, though, getting lost like that,” he couldn’t help teasing, grinning. “Sure you weren’t followed this time?” Tatsumi glanced around the room, almost as if hunting for possible suspects.

“Hey, come on, now,” Chihiro protested, kicking him lightly under the table. “That was a one time slip--I’m better than I look.” And just because the older boy’s presence was putting him in such a good mood his eyes sharpened almost coyly. “At a lot of things.”

Tatsumi waved a hand. “Sure you are, kiddo,” he continued to joke. They had to pause, though, when the waitress came to ask for their orders. Tatsumi ordered some simple soba, thinking he could use the plain flavor. “So, are you paying for this or what? I might get more, if you are.”

“Go ahead--I’m paying,” Chihiro assured, ordering a large bowl of beef and rice for himself. “To celebrate our reunion.” Once the waitress had gone he sat up a little taller, folding his arms on the table. “So can I ask?” he got right into it. “You’re in a school, aren’t you? I’m not from around here, but I do know it’s not normal for seventeen year olds to jump around on rooftops.”

Tatsumi had almost been afraid of such a question, and he’d thought hard on his way to the café about how he would answer. “I’ve been traveling, actually, for a while. Going to all different schools. Doing competitions and such for money.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I guess…I don’t really belong to any specific school, if that’s what you mean. I like trying a variety of things.” There, that should be enough. Mikado-san…warned me not to speak about them too much.

“Hmm. You must be pretty good, then.” Chihiro’s eyes all but gleamed with interest. “To be able to live off your skill like that. Especially around here--Father tells me there are some really impressive schools around.” Isn’t that a laugh. I wonder if he’d know who I am, if I told him…? He tilted his head to the side. “Maybe you’ll show off for me sometime?” he suggested, finding the idea very appealing.

He shrugged. “If you want. I’m not that great, though, compared to some of the others I’ve met.” Secretly, Tatsumi was already warming to the idea—it would be nice to show off, at least, to have some attention like that…. He sank back a little more into his chair, arms hanging over the back casually. It’s been a while since I could relax like this. Looking over his companion, he couldn’t help admitting that the kid was…rather cute.

Chihiro’s grin deepened; he liked the way Tatsumi was watching him, so simply and earnestly. It wasn’t like anything else he was used to. “I do want,” he declared. “I think it’d be fun--I could show you a few tricks I know.” His fingers tapped idly against the table. “I may be a rich kid, but Father can be pretty strict sometimes--I’ve had some training.”

“I’m not surprised. It seems a lot of the old families are into that sort of thing.” Tatsumi brightened as their food suddenly arrived, and his stomach growled loudly as he reached for his chopsticks. He chuckled. “I didn’t eat much this morning,” he explained sheepishly, already tugging the bowl closer.

Chihiro giggled as he tugged his own bowl closer. “I know the feeling.” He spread the ginger around his bowl; the sharp taste seemed to compliment his bright mood at the moment. “So what kind of style do you normally use?” he asked with interest. “Sword? Bo staff?” He gulped down a mouthful of rice. “I still work mostly with just a shinai. Real swords are still a little too heavy for me.”

Tatsumi nodded knowingly. “I can use a katana, though I prefer to combine it with the kodachi.” He raised his chopsticks to mimic a pair of swords before returning them to his meal. “It’s taken a lot of practice, though, but I love it.” His smile turned a bit wistful. “I’ve always been around dojos and what not--it seems right, I guess.”

Chihiro hummed thoughtfully, his eyes thinning slightly. “Love it, huh?” His smile was fainter this time. “I’d probably like it better if it wasn’t so forced on me,” he confessed, in a way he never had before. “Everyone I train with is so…boring. Just doing the same things over and over, for ‘duty.’ Whatever that really means. What a bother.”

He…really does know then. He really does train. Tatsumi smiled faintly. “Maybe that’s why I keep leaving,” he murmured, watching Chihiro closely. “Can’t settle down yet, I guess.” Maybe…he will understand, as Kannuki-san and Mikado-san don’t. He paused in his eating to take a long drink of water, somehow feeling strangely refreshed by the revelations.

Chihiro raised his gaze. It can’t be the same for him, but…he does seem to understand. “It’s just…so suffocating,” he started, hoping his words might draw some reaction from his company. Maybe even understanding. “They expect a lot from me and I’m trying, but…I think there must be something in them I just don’t get.” What good is it to be the heir to a hundred year old school if I’m all alone? “Maybe that’s why I’m here, too.”

His smile growing, Tatsumi nodded. “I can’t say I know what that’s like for you, as I don’t really have a family to expect things from me, but…I think I understand. I know what it’s like to struggle.” I…know what it’s like to be lonely, sometimes. Even when surrounded by people….

Relieved that Tatsumi had caught on so easily, Chihiro smiled at him from across the table. “We should go somewhere after this,” he suggested, pausing just long enough to take a few huge bites. “Show off for each other. It might actually be fun to practice a little…if I’m with you.” He ducked his head to hide a grin as he returned to his meal.

“Sure, if you like.” He thought quickly as he continued to eat, trying to decide where the best place for them would be. I guess…there. Tatsumi felt something in his chest lighten at the idea of spending more time with Chihiro--he couldn’t understand why, but…. “If you’re serious, I know somewhere we can go.

“Of course I’m serious. So, we’re going.” Excited that that had been decided, Chihiro dug into his meal with extra voracity. They were both just as eager, and soon enough they’d finished. As promised, Chihiro covered the bill. “Lead the way, Tatsumi.” He bounced lightly on his wooden sandals.

Tatsumi started down the street at a quick pace, knowing Chihiro would be able to keep up. He idly pointed out a few better-known places--restaurants, a bookstore, even a small kenpo dojo that looked like it also sold some sword equipment. After a block or so, he finally admitted where they were going. “The rooftop of my apartment building is open, but no one goes up there very often. I’ve practiced up there from time to time.”

Chihiro giggled despite himself, attention definitely perked. “Inviting me to your place already?” he teased. “How bold of you.” Laughing, he slipped his arm through Tatsumi’s. “Though I guess I did pay for dinner. Isn’t that how it works?” As if we were on a date. He blushed at the idea. A real date.

Tatsumi snorted and swiped playfully at the boy. “You’re too young to talk like that,” he teased, though…. I don’t want the whole street to be thinking how strange we are. He carefully urged Chihiro off his arm, and to make up for it he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Better behave or no dessert.”

Chihiro made a face at him and crossed his arms. “You’d better be careful,” he warned, skipping a few paces ahead. “You start treating me like a kid, and I’m going to start acting like one.” I’m not as innocent as I look, you know. He glanced at Tatsumi over his shoulder, giving him an almost wicked grin.

“You’ll only prove me right then,” he shot back, taking his time, knowing that Chihiro would have to return or risk missing their destination. Tatsumi stuffed his hands in his pockets. I like this. I like having him around--somehow, it just feels…really natural. He could just see his building around the next turn, and he smiled faintly.

Chihiro stuck out his tongue at him before returning to his side. Not long after they were riding the elevator to Tatsumi’s apartment, and Chihiro bounced lightly in excitement. I’ve never really been to someone else’s home. I wonder what it’s like…? Everything in the city seemed so cramped, so confined, and he couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could stand it for very long. As soon as the door to Tatsumi’s apartment was open he slipped inside, determined to take it all in. It’s…kinda messy.

Tatsumi chuckled to himself, bending over to scoop a pair of sweatpants off the floor and flinging it towards the bedroom. “You’ll have to excuse the mess--I didn’t think I’d be having company over.” Though…I didn’t think I’d left so many water bottles out…. He moved to the far side of his small living room, to the small pile of various weights and a rack of old and wooden practice swords--his real ones he kept hidden away in his bedroom.

“Oh, it’s all right. I don’t mind.” It was actually kind of…charming, in a way, and he giggled as he slipped out of his sandals and investigated further. “Looks like you work out a lot,” he remarked as he hopped about, noting the weights, weapons, and a few strewn fitness magazines. He crouched down in front of one that had landed on the floor--the cover bore a particularly well-sculpted body, and he blushed a little. “Looks like someone I know.”

Tatsumi glanced back, but he didn’t know the man on the cover. “You have to work out if you want to be able to work with a real weapon someday,” he said instead, looking over his practice weapons, finally hefting one. This is about the size and weight of a shinai, I guess. “Hey.” When Chihiro looked up, he tossed him the wooden blade. “That about your size?”

Chihiro caught it easily and stood, giving the wood a few practice swings. “Yeah, feels like it.” Are we really going to spar? This’ll be awesome! He crouched down again, gathering up his long pants so he could tie the fabric up around his calves--to stay out of his way for now. He frowned, though, when he reached for his sleeves. With a shrug he began to tug the coat off his shoulders.

Selecting his own pair of swords, he raised an eyebrow as the kid stripped. He’s not too bad, being as young as he is. “You want a T-shirt or something?” he offered, moving closer. “It can get pretty windy up on the roof--wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or something.”

“If you’ve got one to spare,” Chihiro replied smartly, folding his haori with care and setting it on a nearby table. I wouldn’t mind wearing something of yours. Not one bit. He faced Tatsumi expectantly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll need to do laundry soon, anyway.” Smiling to himself, Tatsumi retreated to the bedroom, returning a moment later with a clean, white T-shirt to offer the boy. “This one’s a little tight on me, so it should fit you fine,” he teased.

“Maybe you should wear it, then.” Chihiro poked at Tatsumi’s stomach as he retrieved the shirt; he couldn’t help but grin at the brief feel of toned muscle. I wouldn’t mind seeing this stretched over him. Blushing, Chihiro turned away to slip the shirt over his head. Chihiro, you’ve got to stop that. This isn’t like back home. You…. He smirked. You shouldn’t tease him.

Tatsumi snorted, heading back to the door and pulling on some comfortable shoes. “You’re awfully bold for some sheltered little rich kid, you know?” he replied, his eyes darting back over his shoulder. It’s a good thing I don’t mind--some people would probably be almost scared of him at this point.

“Maybe that’s exactly why,” Chihiro replied as he trotted lightly after the other. “Maybe I’m overcompensating.” Maybe I’d better tone it down, though, just in case. He gave Tatsumi what he hoped looked like an innocent enough smile. “I’ll behave.”

Tatsumi rolled his eyes. “Sure you will.” Though, I guess I don’t really mind. It’s been a while since…I was able to goof around like this. Just because he could, he reached out and ruffled Chihiro’s hair again as they stepped back onto the elevator. “You should know, though, that I take my sword work seriously. If you really want to spar, I won’t go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Chihiro assured, tapping his practice sword lightly against his calf as he waited for the elevator. “I won’t hold back, either. It should make for an interesting match.” I’ll finally get to see how strong he really is.

Especially if he can stand up to me at all. The elevator trip was short, and soon they were stepping across the open rooftop. Tatsumi took a long breath, setting his swords aside to do a few brief stretching exercises, tossing aside his jacket so he wore only his black tank top. The sun was warm on his bare shoulders as he bent over to clasp the backs of his calves.

Chihiro giggled, but seeing as Tatsumi really was taking this seriously he decided to do the same. He went through a few of his own stretching exercises; he was glad to be able to work out some of the tension in his body, and he couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Maybe training will be fun after all. When he was finished he popped back up lightly to his feet. “Ready when you are.”

Straightening, Tatsumi retrieved the longer of his two blades, deciding to work with the one for now. He smiled as he took up a ready position, facing Chihiro. Somehow, he liked seeing the boy in his T-shirt--he looked more normal, casual, than he did in his formal robes. “Come on then.”

“No problem there.” Chihiro smirked, though his gaze was intense as he studied the other’s posture. It’s different than our style. I can already tell. Determined to impress his companion he charged, bringing his sword forward in a testing strike.

Tatsumi easily blocked, though already he was pleased--Chihiro was no amateur. He allowed the boy to remain on the offensive for several moments, getting used to the feel of the practice blade, the movements of his partner, before testing a few strikes of his own. Strange…it’s almost too similar. The way he moves, sometimes…. His eyes widened as Chihiro danced out of the way of one of his attacks--it was like looking into a mirror, almost. How…weird.

Chihiro noticed, and was excited by the similarity. There really is something about him. I feel like I already know him. With a grin he attacked again, using his greater flexibility to hunt out Tatsumi’s weak points. He’s as good as I hoped he’d be.

Chihiro’s speed was putting him at an advantage, and Tatsumi found himself having to concentrate more on his sword than on the strange similarities between them--he’d wonder about it later. After a few more moments he broke them apart so they could catch their breath. “You’re not so bad after all,” he complimented, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead.

“Back at you,” Chihiro returned around a grin. He was breathing hard, and his wrists were beginning to ache. He may have been fast, but that wasn’t enough to save him from the impact of their weapons meeting--Tatsumi was undoubtedly stronger than him. He paused to tighten the knot on his left pant leg and retook his stance. “You up for a little more?” This really is fun.

He nodded easily. “If you are.” Tatsumi took up his own stance, pausing another moment before making the first move. They went a little easier this time, though after a while Tatsumi easily recognized the brief winces in the other’s expression as their weapons met. Well, it’s not like he trains the same as me, and I am stronger. I’ll have to make sure he’s okay before I let him leave later.

They managed the same pace for a while, but Chihiro easily felt his limit approaching. It took one last good strike from Tatsumi to wrench his sword from him, and with a startled yelp the younger boy fell back, rubbing at his sore wrist. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “You win.”

Tatsumi laughed as well, lowering his sword. “Sorry--got a little too excited, I guess.” He jogged over to grab Chihiro’s lost weapon, as well as his other practice blade. Maybe…some other time, I’ll be able to work with both. He turned towards a small chimney-like structure and a small cooler. “Come over here. I’ve been working out up here so much lately I just started leaving that here--it should have a water bottle or two left.”

“Oh--thanks.” Chihiro followed him, trying not to wince. It’s been a while since I fought anyone as tough as him, he thought with mixed excitement and awe. I guess it’s no wonder I’m sore now. He seated himself next to the cooler, finding a water bottle. It was still cold, and he pressed it briefly against his wrist. “Good match.”

He nodded easily. “Yeah, it was. You’re better than I thought, Chihiro-kun.” Tatsumi took his own long drink, though his eyes were drawn to the boy’s hand a moment later. They are pretty thin. “How bad is it?” he asked.

“Hm? What?” Chihiro tried to pretend he didn’t notice the direction of Tatsumi’s stare, but there was little hope in that. He smiled sheepishly. “It’s not bad. I guess I’m just not used to people laying into me.” He rubbed lightly at his wrist. “Not the master’s son, no way.”

Tatsumi raised an eyebrow. “‘Master,’ eh?” He took another drink, considering. Well damn. I wouldn’t want to lose him as a sparring partner. Setting the bottle aside, he reached for Chihiro’s injured hand. “Let me take a look.”

“It’s not bad,” Chihiro said again, though he offered his hand up willingly to Tatsumi’s inspection. His hands are hard. Like a fighter’s should be. He sat still as Tatsumi looked him over, humming faintly to himself in case he tried to grimace.

Tatsumi carefully looked over the boy’s wrist, just to make sure he hadn’t sprained it in any way. Looks all right. Good. He pressed Chihiro’s arm between his palms, rubbing gently to urge the tense tendons to relax. “Does that hurt too much?” he asked quietly, eyes on the other’s face.

“No….” Chihiro ducked his head, a little subdued by the gentle treatment. “No, it feels good. Thanks.” He wiggled his fingers slightly, smiling at the feeling of Tatsumi’s calloused hands moving over him. It’s…nice. And simple. I like it.

Tatsumi continued for some time, waiting for Chihiro’s hand to grow relaxed between his before wordlessly taking up the other. It’s…been a while. Since I was close to someone like this. He shook his head. It’s weird--usually I go for older guys. Smirking to himself, he finally gave the boy’s arm a pat. “How’s that, kid?”

“A lot better--thanks.” Chihiro drew his hand reluctantly back, briefly touching his wrists as if to check Tatsumi’s work. They’d probably be sore the next day, but he was confident that he could keep anyone from noticing. He gave Tatsumi a bright smile. “You’re even better than I thought, Tatsumi-san,” he said honestly. “Better than a lot of the people I’ve trained with.”

Tatsumi shrugged, though secretly he was pleased by the compliment. “Thanks. I’ve been doing this a long time, though--as long as I can remember.” He took a long drink from his water bottle, uncaring as several drops spilled past his chin and down his neck. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he added, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re definitely a natural—a little more practice and you could easily give me a run for my money.”

Chihiro tried not to beam. “Think so? In that case, maybe I’ll actually go back to really practicing.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, casting subtle glances back at the other. “It’s just been so…irritating lately. I haven’t really been able to enjoy it.” He hesitated. “Do you think I could come back out here sometime? I feel like I’ll learn more with you than from Father’s trainers.”

Tatsumi’s eyes widened subtly, thinking his words over as he drunk again. “Well, I don’t mind having a sparring partner, though…I’ve never actually taught before, if that’s more of what you mean.” He ran a hand back through his hair. Teach…. All my sensei’s have said that that’s the final step, passing knowledge on…. His lips curled even as he tried to hide his slight excitement. “I don’t know what my schedule will be like--I might get really busy really fast--but….” He met Chihiro’s eyes, smile growing. “Why not.”

“Really?” Chihiro straightened, a wide grin stretching his features. “You mean it? It’d be great!” Excited, he wriggled a little closer. “All Father’s trainers are interested in is form and technique, but that’s not enough if I’m ever going to be in a real fight, right? I need to learn how to really train, like you do.” He reached out, giving Tatsumi’s bicep a squeeze. “Like this.”

Tatsumi chuckled. “You might not say that after a day of weights,” he replied. He made a playful muscle beneath the boy’s hand--he was enjoying all the childish attention almost too much. “This is almost two hours a day, you know, pumping and running and push-ups.” Reaching down, he flicked at Chihiro’s arm. “We’ll have to toughen up these wrists of yours.”

Chihiro made a face, though nothing could ruin the excited light in his eyes. “Then I’ll have to come over a lot,” he shot back, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Every day.” He shot Tatsumi a playful grin. “As long as you massage me afterwards.”

Snorting, Tatsumi dumped the last few drops of his water over the boy’s head. “Are you kidding? Go back home if you want pampering, light-weight,” he teased, pushing himself to his feet. He slipped behind Chihiro, catching the back of his T-shirt to tug him upright as well. “Come on--show me what these so-called trainers have been teaching you. I gotta know what I’m working with here.” This…is going to be interesting. He grinned. To say the least.

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