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Versus Jidaigeki	By : LadyPetrichor Category: S through Z > Versus Views: 809 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Versus or any of its characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Versus Jidaigeki
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He found Ryuzo drunk off his ass in the most run down of drinking establishments and the lowliest of company, that of course being solitude. The sake, he found, was disgusting but potent and apparently well worth the last of his friend’s money, though in all fairness he most likely had gambled away a good portion of it before drowning himself in alcohol.

When Masahiko appeared so did the owner of the sake house and he asked the ronīn to kindly remove his drunken friend.

“Araa araa, where are we going, Masa?” Ryuzo slurred, leaning heavily on his companion with his arm draped over Masahiko’s shoulder.

“We’ll have to sleep outside tonight.” the ronīn responded, shrugging off his friends groping hands. If the law was coming after them he didn’t want to draw attention to them, and drunken Ryuzo could start a killing spree at a moments notice.

They woke before dawn to find the horses missing. A brief search of the area yielded no trace of the beasts. Cutting their losses and back on foot they didn’t stay in town any longer than it took to grab some food and drink before setting off again.

Ryuzo had a hangover that could knock over an ox, but it didn’t keep him from complaining of the loss of their stolen steeds, the humidity, his aching head, or the gathering signs of a storm for the entire eight hours they’d been walking.

“We’ll have to at least find better shelter than the trees.” he pointed up to the sky. “Looks like rain.”

Masahiko stopped fanning himself and raised his head up to watch the dark clouds roll in. They were certainly thunderclouds, waiting to drench the pair in a downpour of torrential rain. It wasn’t uncommon for the region, but Ryuzo was correct. Getting caught in a storm would be best to avoid.

Likelihood of that happening seemed relatively slim though. After leaving town, there had been no indication of another settlement for miles and the lightning was becoming fiercer now.

Ten minutes later the sky broke and released what seemed like all of its water unto the two warriors. Their clothes were immediately soaked completely through, but they kept their pace.
They trudged on through the woods and it was Masahiko that caught first glimpse of the large but worn down shrine nestled between the trees.

Upon spotting it himself, Ryuzo burst out into crazy laughter as he was apt to do.

“The spirits bring us fortune today, Masa.” he grinned, dropping a hand on Masahiko’s shoulder with a wet slap. They strode towards the empty shrine glad to get out of the rain.

When they entered the building it became suddenly obvious that it was not as abandoned as previously assumed. The inside looked far from disused.

What sounded like a far off groan came from Masahiko’s left and he turned to face west side of the building drawing his wakizashi.

“Did you hear that?” He asked Ryuzo. The man nodded and followed the ronīn down the corridor towards the source of the groans.

A pained yell made them pause in front of a shōji door, a dim light flickered inside. Masahiko grabbed the side of the door, sliding it open swiftly and brandishing his blade to anyone who was inside.

Expecting to find a room of squatting outlaws or something similar, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised with the reality. The only occupants were a miko and an injured man in the middle of the room. The miko gasped and dropped the bloodied rag she had been holding. It fell into a bowl set in front of her, splashing water everywhere but thankfully missing the two oil lamps that were the only sources of light.

The groaning man had obviously been bleeding profusely earlier because, though he had bandages wrapped thickly around his shoulder and midsection, they were already starting to bleed through and the floor was stained with vast amounts of the sticky red substance.

“What’s this?” Ryuzo’s eyes took in the injured man briefly before settling their lustful gaze on the wide eyed priestess. Her own stare darted back and forth between the two intruders before she suddenly dove toward the back corner of the room and grabbed a naginata that had been leaning there, previously unnoticed.

She spun around with blade pointed in their direction, shifting between them intermittently. Without lowering the weapon, she slowly stepped forward until she was at the man’s side again

“Who are you and what business do you have at this shrine?” she demanded, “There’s nothing of value here so if you’re bandits you’re wasting your time.”

Masahiko sheathed his blade and motioned for Ryuzo to take his hand from his tsukubo.

“We’re looking for shelter from the storm. This was the only building we could find.”

The miko lowered the weapon slightly, giving them a wary look. Having been preoccupied with the dying man in front of her, she hadn’t noticed the steady pounding of rain outside. Still, she didn’t trust the look of these men, but she was a priestess and it was her obligation and nature to help those in need.

They had been correct about the shrine being the only source of shelter. There was not another standing building within a twenty-five mile radius ever since the village that was nearby had been destroyed by a massive landslide years ago.

She settled back on her knees and set the pole weapon besides her giving a sigh of relief. Bandits and ronīn weren’t uncommon in this area and were in fact responsible for the bleeding man she currently tended to, or at least that’s the conclusion she had reached based on his wounds. She had been trained in the use of the naginata and was even quite proficient in archery, but she had never had to use either skill against another human before.

“You are free to stay here.” she said. “But if I may ask for your assistance? This man is very injured and I need to move him to another room, but I can’t move him alone without causing his wounds to worsen.”

It was a small request and there was no harm in obliging the woman.

Slowly and carefully they managed to move him into a room that held a large flame pit at its center. The shrine was in dedication to Kōjin and the sacred fire was kept constantly lit.

They settled him on a futon beside the fire and the miko began to check all of his dressings.

Ryuzo and Masahiko sat across from her for lack of any better task to do. She began to gently wipe away the crusted blood that covered the majority of the man’s face. Without pausing in her task she introduced herself as Honomi.

“And who’s he?” Ryuzo gestured to the unconscious man with his foot.

“I don’t know.” she conceded. “I found him collapsed when I was out walking earlier. When I tried to ask him what happened, it all came out jumbled and incoherent before he lost consciousness. I drug him all the way from the river that runs south of this shrine.”

“Are you alone here?” Masahiko asked.

She was. The kannushi who ran the shrine had left to Rokujima two days ago for a ritual ceremony and would be gone for three nights more at least. As his adopted daughter and the only miko, she had been left to attend to the shrine alone, but a voice in the back of her head told Honomi to not to reveal that information.

“My father is the priest of this shrine. He should be returning any moment now, though the weather may delay him.”

She inwardly congratulated herself on the steadiness of her voice, she was usually an awful liar and it showed.

The priestess finally finished cleaning up the man and she got her first good look at him. His shoulder length hair was still matted in blood, but his face was that of a handsome young man probably not more than a few years older than her own twenty. She hadn’t seen any weapons nearby when she discovered him so she had figured he had simply been an unlucky traveler who got mugged. Unlucky and stupid. It was dangerous to travel without any weapon at all.

While Honomi studied her patient, the two criminals studied her. Masahiko knew she had lied. While her tone remained steady, the hesitation before answering and the look of caution in her gaze gave her away.

Ryuzo most likely detected the falsehood as well, because his look of hunger had only gotten more intense. Like a wolf eyeing a deer.

He followed every movement she made and his stare caught on every inch of skin she bared when her clothes shifted.

There was nothing more she could do for the injured man at this point so Honomi gathered up the bowl, the rags, and extra wrappings together and stood. She left the room and returned a few minutes later holding a tray with three bowls of vegetable stew and rice and a jug of water.

“It’s not much, I hope you don’t mind.” she handed them each a bowl and set of hashi. She also hoped they didn’t mind her lack of formality as she ate with them on the floor still covered in metallic smelling blood. Having only given herself half a portion, she finished eating before them and left once more to find some extra bed rolls.

“Try to restrain yourself for a night. She’s not one of those traveling aruki mikos you’re so fond of.” Masahiko warned Ryuzo as soon as the sound of her footsteps had faded. The latter man scoffed at him.

“It’s no sin what men and women do together and I’ll be going to hell for women who don’t look half as tantalizing as that little morsel.” he stuck his tongue out lewdly. “Innocent indeed.”

She was the kind of beauty one did not expect to find hidden away in the middle of the woods in a Shinto shrine that looked like it had been abandoned years ago. Her long chestnut brown hair was out of sorts and her miko shozoku was soaked in blood down the front, but he had not been able to take his eyes off her. She had an attractive kitsune face though her eyes were a bit larger, giving her face an overall softer more innocent look than standard.

Though Masahiko had far more self control than his barbaric friend, he couldn’t help but agree the miko was quite a beauty. He also agreed that Ryuzo had fucked girls that looked like farm animals in comparison.

He reiterated his point to the watari-kashi.

“Don’t touch the miko.”
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Versus Jidaigeki