GLBT, Yaoi/Manga
The way of the warrior: sex, swords and death.
SAKURA BLADES - DESTINY'S ROAD
Auburnimp and Michael Barnette
Rated: 3 Quills: The Feasting Hall
Price: 3.99
ISBN: 1-60180-089-4
Masami is a young man with a terrible secret. One that could cost him his life, so he has spent his life in isolation on a mountain with his Master.
But nothing is forever, and a life-changing event sends him down the mountain into a new life he is unprepared for: the life of a rootless wandering ronin.
How will a fateful meeting on the road change their lives?
At first the things he'd needed to do in order to survive had seemed alien and terrible, but as time went on he'd learned to swallow his pride, forget his honor and endure. Seppuku was not an option as far as he was concerned, as he had no master to either disobey or dishonor. There was a freedom of sorts in that.
He flicked his heavy braid off his shoulder until it was lying down his back and kept walking down the endless road to nowhere. No more the shaved head and topknot that marked him as samurai, just the heavy fall of long, thick hair that could mean peasant, merchant or artisan. It was often safer that way.
He'd long ago realized that one town was very much like another with its corrupt officials, using their petty amount of power to live like lords, merchants prepared to take the last of anyone's money, whorehouses and the poor.
When desperate enough he'd even worked in some of those whorehouses, either as a whore or as a guard to some famous in her own town courtesan.
There had to be more to his life, perhaps a minor daimyo in need of a retainer or something along those lines. He could do what many ronin had done and become a bandit, but there was nothing appealing in that thought.
He kept on going until the sound of running water reminded him he was thirsty. Following the sound to its source, he was surprised to see an almost naked boy washing his clothes in a creek.
The boy was easy on the eye, apart from the badly hacked off hair and Kiyoshi smiled to himself. Some company might be good for a change. He cleared his throat to let the boy know he was no longer alone.
Dark eyes turned his way, and Kiyoshi got his first clear look at the boy's face. Finely shaped eyebrows above wide dark eyes. The mouth parted in shock as the boy rose to his feet, the wet kimono in his hands all but forgotten. A blush turned his face a vivid shade of crimson, and the boy turned around trying to pull on the sopping wet kimono, an action that gave Kiyoshi a view of a nice masculine behind.
Sunlight sparkled on droplets of water caught in his hair and beading his skin like dew, the boy's lean body glistening in the sunlight.
“I... Forgive me, I didn't know anyone was around and...I...” the boy stammered.
“You felt the need to get some of the dust and dirt of the road off your skin. There is no need to apologize.” He smiled in what he hoped was a friendly and non-aggressive fashion.
Even wet and startled, the boy was as beautiful and delicate as a young deer. His gaze fell on the katana and wakizashi lying on the grass. Make that as a young panther.
“May I join you?”
“I...” the boy was trying to get the wet kimono on, but the cloth was soaked and resisted his efforts. He got his arms in, and it didn't take a skilled observer to see that the garment was too small for the boy. The cloth showed signs of hard use. “I should be going.”
The boy turned, the kimono held closed around him, the dark points of his nipples showing through the wet greyish silk. Once it might have been a creamy shade printed with a scattering of leaves in a darker brown, but time and abuse had ruined the original color and all but obscured the pattern of the print.
Snatching up his saturated hakama from where they'd been draped over a nearby bush, the boy slipped his feet into a pair of geta so worn they were almost flat on the bottom, then swooped down to gather his obi and swords into his arms.
Kiyoshi was somewhat amused by the boy's obvious discomfort at his presence. “No need to rush off because of me.” He noticed there was no pack amongst the boy's belongings, no water skin and no food. Easing his own pack off his shoulders, he set it on the ground and smiled again at the boy.
“I was just about to stop for some lunch. There's enough here for two.”
The boy's gaze turned wary, eyes narrowing. He might or might not know how to use the swords he had, but it was easy to tell he had a strong distrust of strangers.
Or perhaps it was older men with swords that made him wary.
