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Side Story #17: Satsuma’s Friend (Toshio Version)
🕑 Added 2019-12-07 18:37:17 +0000 UTC<Author’s note: This story takes place before the events of Book 1.>
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Side Story 17: Satsuma’s Friend (Toshio Version)
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■■ Western Hyuga ■■
“What are you holding, Satsu-kun?!” cried a woman from the back of a wagon. Her name was Azusa—the secret wife of Emperor Seijirō—and her concern for her son’s well being was all that kept her sane on the many weeks journey west out of Yamato. Leaving the capital city of Hyuga where her family, house and future were supposed to be was far from a painless ordeal.
But it was nothing compared to what the Lioness Sakiko would do if she got her claws on them.
“Just a, um, stick, Mother!” Satsuma lied as best a six-year-old could. He hid his carving knife—the one his father had gifted him—within the robes of his kimono. Unfortunately for him, his clothes were in disrepair from travel: days marching in thick forests and nights sleeping atop twigs had turned the future emperor’s outfit from regal to rustic.
The knife fell through a broken pocket just as his mother came over. She let out a gasp that got the attention of the others—them being the Kondos they were traveling with. Their brown-skinned companions were the bears Satsuma had dreamed of for weeks, and though they had no fur they were the hairiest men the boy had ever seen.
Coarse black hairs sprouted from their chests and arms, their legs, and even their backs. One of them had hair seemingly everywhere save for the top of his head. He was called Kyō-Kyō and would soon come to the boy’s aid.
“That’s a weapon! You could get yourself hurt!” Azusa yelled, her face distorted with disgust as she picked up the blade as if it were a dead rodent. “Where did you get this? Did that...that Kyō-Kyō give it to you?”
“Oh, dhats just a wee shaving knife, Lady Azusa! Was teachin’ the lad how to keep his face clean, is all. Wouldn’t want it to get as hairy as mine! Gehehe-heehee!” Kyō said, laughing as he always did.
He was a short man with shoulders broader than any, with a large gut that had shrunk considerably since they had left the Capital. His hands were covered in calluses from a lifetime of building houses, stables, fences and just about anything else made from rock and wood. He was friendly—overly so—and was the leader of this group of Kondos. Their journey was more than just an expedition: it was a pilgrimage to the new lands of their people, were they sought to use their skills to build a permanent settlement.
“A place to call home,” Satsuma thought to himself. “I wish I had one of those…”
After some debate between Azusa and Kyō-Kyō regarding male body hair and personal grooming, a third member of the expedition returned from scouting ahead: Fujibayashi. His long awaited return distracted Azusa long enough for Satsuma to retrieve his knife.
“You all will be happy to know that we’re traveling in the right direction at least,” the older man said while scratching his peppered-grey beard. “How we managed to get five carts filled with building materials through these woods...well, it was nothing short of a shugenja spell. Let’s hope it holds up—in just another hour we’ll be on the prairie, and then to the desert. Kyō—you and I need to have a conversation about where your tribe is exactly, and what sort of welcoming we can expect.”
From what little the adults let Satsuma overhear, the boy had learned that a brutal war between Hyugans and Kondos had ended just a few years prior. Like Hyugans with their clans, the Kondos were separated amongst their own—between the Northern tribes, the Central ones, and those in the South.
It was those in the South around the old capital of Genfu who had done most of the fighting. Kyō-Kyō didn’t spell it out—nor could he spell at all—but his hesitancy was enough to draw worry. “A grudge like dhat...will bleed for generations,” he said solemnly. The man himself was of the North, displaced by the Uesugi and Takeda clans.
Northern Kondos were more traditional and spiritual, fantastic hunters and tougher than bears—they had to be to survive up there. They weren’t fit for warmer climates, as evidenced by the buckets of sweat constantly streaming down Kyō’s hairy chest.
As far as the Central Kondo tribes went…
“...let’s hope they be the ones in charge over dhere,” Kyō said after wiping his forehead. “Dhey are farmers and builders. Don’t hold to traditions much, and I say dhat be for the best—not many bears to sacrifice in the desert! Smart and clever folk, good with horses too.”
The idea of horses filled Satsuma’s young mind with scenes of racing, jumping and fighting atop the mighty yet elegant beasts. They were the samurai’s best friend, and it was said that the best steeds were raised on the Golden Plains of the Westlands.
“My first friend shall be a horse,” Satsuma decided with a smile. “Strong and dependable, and always at my side!” While eager to return to his father and his schoolmates back in Yamato, the boy knew he couldn’t return empty-handed. “I shall master the art of horsemanship—that will impress Father enough to let us live at the castle with him!”
Only Fujibayashi overheard the boy’s affirmation; it was enough to make the seasoned warrior grimace. His emperor and friend Seijirō had ordered the ninja to look after his son—to keep Satsuma safe meant the two were unlikely to see eachother again.
“Hey, Satsu-sama!” the old man hollered, his tone cheerful. “I found a watering hole not too far up ahead. Might be we’ll find a horse if we go looking!”
Satsuma bolted up and ran towards the ninja, nearly tackling him out of excitement. He quickly turned to his mother and began pleading his case to let him go on ahead. Lady Azusa was reluctant but the boy’s excitement was hard to turn down. When she nodded, Satsuma shouted with glee.
“Yatta! I’m gonna get a horse!”
■■■■
A ninja did not become the right hand of the Emperor without ample amounts of caution. Taking Satsuma up ahead was one such measure; borrowing Lady Azusa’s necklace was another. The jewelry was more than just a pretty ivory piece—it was a symbol of Satsuma’s royal inheritance. Keeping the boy and that necklace a secret was pivotal if they were to survive out here.
“Am I being quiet enough, Fuji-san?” Satsuma asked, skulking and whispering. “I don’t want to scare the horses off.”
Fujibayashi assured Satsuma he was doing fine. Though he doubted there were wild horses ahead, he was far more concerned with the tamed ones; he had seen signs of recent activity during his scout ahead earlier. A large group of Kondos with their carts in tow would be spotted immediately.
“Mitigating risk is how you reach old age in this line of work,” the ninja mumbled to himself. Though he wasn’t keen on lying to the boy, telling him the truth would’ve only worried Kyō-Kyō and his mother—and of the two, Fujibayashi wasn’t sure who was the greater liability.
The former was certainly louder; the ninja could hear the hairy Kondo’s laughter from afar. So could Satsuma.
“He’ll scare away the horses before we get there!” the boy said with concern.
As if to ease his worries, several neighs broke out from the fields ahead. The sound of horses rang out atop the prairie where golden hairgrass mixed with green dropseed and wildflowers came in blues, reds and violets. This was the edge of the Golden Plains and the start of the western frontier; and those yells came from the stallions that lived there.
“Look! Hor—” Satsuma shouted until he was muffled by Fujibayashi’s hand. While both of them were excited, the ninja alone was stricken by fear. Atop those horses were men with odd blankets draped across their torsos, with large conical helmets atop their heads. At this distance, Fujibayashi couldn’t tell if they were Hyugan or Kondo, friend or foe.
“Spirits help us, we have poor luck. That’s the Nanbu emblem,” the ninja whispered while gesturing to the clan emblem shown predominantly on the lead rider’s coat. The rider was short—a woman, Fujibayashi realized—though she spoke with the confidence of a samurai captain.
A confidence amplified by the spear in her hands.
“Reckon you bit off more than you can chew, Jūkichi! And that’s sayin’ something, with a mouth as big as yours. Made us waste half a day’s light chasing your sorry hide. Hand over the month’s wages or I’ll stick you through!”
“All I tooks was mine,” the outlaw yelled, gesturing to the large pack on his back. “I signed up to be a rancher—not to fight off wild dirtskins who’d flay me alive sooner than look at me! I’m headed to the cities out East. Ain’t ever gonna see another filthy Kondo in my life, just you wait ’n...see.”
The outlaw’s words came to an end upon the sight of over a dozen brown-skinned bears in human form approaching from out of the trees. Kyō-Kyō was leading them in song, letting everyone and anyone know they were there. Tactically, it was a nightmare.
“Are these good people, or bad?” Satsuma asked, tugging Fujibayashi’s sleeve. The boy was perceptive enough to know that not every adult could be trusted. That was good, since trust was a rare currency out here.
“A bit of both,” the ninja said, examining the commotion. The outlaw had gotten himself tied up and hogtied by the woman, called Lady Nanbu by the other horsemen. Fujibayashi had known her husband—they had fought on opposing sides during the Golden Era. The ninja’s side had won, which was all well and good except that the wives of samurai were known to hold grudges.
For Lady Azusa to keep her identity hidden and for the Kondos to get themselves out of this mess alive would require the finesse of a shinobi. But that meant leaving Satsuma alone.
“You should help Mother,” Satsuma said, speaking with a voice more mature than a six-year-old’s. “I shall be fine by myself, Fuji-san.”
With his eyes closed, Fujibayashi would’ve believed it was Seijirō speaking to him. But with them open he saw a young boy in dire need of a bath and a fresh set of robes. Odd as it was, not a hint of fear was found on Satsuma’s eyes or peaceful expression.
“It’s as if he’s already seen this unfold,” the ninja thought to himself before shaking the silly idea away. He gave Satsuma a nod before giving him his mother’s necklace. “Keep it close to you at all times, Satsu-kun. I’ll deal with Lady Nanbu as best I can...what I need you to do is stay safe in the meanwhile. Do whatever you have to in order to survive, you understand?”
Satsuma nodded. Fujibayashi bowed before stepping forth out from their bush and announcing his presence. He claimed to the Westlanders that his wife and him were building an estate out here, and that the Kondos were in their personal employ. Several long minutes of hostile negotiations then passed, the result of which was Kyō-Kyō and the rest of the Kondos tied up in ropes and forced to march with armed riders on either side of them.
Satsuma waited until after they were out of sight and then waited longer until his legs grew sore from squatting. He stood up and looked around, but saw nothing and no one. There were no sounds, either—not even the song of birds kept the boy company.
“I’m alone,” he said to himself. Though he had sounded brave to Fuji-san, here by himself he sniffled and wrinkled his nose. Satsuma could fill the pressure well up behind his eyes, but he quickly blinked the potential tears away.
He was brave, a lion—that was what his spirit animal was, according to Ume-Ume, the Kondo woman he had met back in Yamato. The older lady had turned out to be Kyō-Kyō’s wife, and it was her wisdom and kindness that had helped the three Hyugans escape Yamato from Sakiko’s clutches.
“This isn’t as scary as that,” Satsuma said. “Our house isn’t burning down this time.”
That was logic enough for a six-year-old to steel his courage and take his first steps onto the prairie. The golden fields were warm and welcoming—though the sun was overly so on both accounts. Satsuma had to squint and hold up his hand to get a good view, though as to where he was going…
“...I haven’t a clue.”
Fujibayashi had instructed him to remain hidden, so following their footsteps seemed far from ideal. Instead, the boy was determined to make his own path through the wildflowers, picking one of every color to make a bouquet for his mother. Such was the priority of a six-year-old.
“Violet, dark blue and light blue, yellow and pinkish-red,” Satsuma spoke to himself as he inspected his haul. He then inspected his surroundings, and realized that the forest they had come from was nowhere to be seen. An anxious gasp caught up in Satsuma’s throat before he choked it back down.
The pain in his throat reminded him of his thirst, which prompted him to halt his flower search for ponds, streams and rivers. Those were the places horses were most likely to be, afterall, and if he was to become a master horse rider to impress his father he’d have to find one.
Though that was easier said than done; with not a cloud in the sky and the afternoon sun bearing down on him, Satsuma quickly became dizzy and tired. Not to mention his feet were sore, his head ached and the back of his neck was sunburnt. A child in this condition wouldn’t last longer than an hour.
But Satsuma was no ordinary child and continued forth across the prairie until the sun began its descent in the sky. Time and consciousness made for a dubious pair when mingled with heat exhaustion and mirages. Yet it was no trick of the eye that guided the boy forward; instead, he followed a spiritual sound that resonated from his head to his sandals.
The sound of a young mare cried out to him. Satsuma knew it was colored chestnut brown and had a black mane well before his eyes confirmed it. She was grazing on a desert shrub and wasn’t pleased at the taste. She also wasn’t wild: she didn’t even bother to look up upon Satsuma’s approach.
“There, there. Everything will be okay,” the boy said, trying to comfort the animal when in truth it was he who needed soothing. The hairs on the back of his sunburnt neck stood on end as he realized that horses were far larger and more intimidating up close.
The mare was less than a year old but stood well over Satsuma’s head in height. She had no saddle, which was odd considering how well she acted around people, though few could be intimidated by a child as gentle as Satsuma. She pawed the ground after he found the courage to pet her back, then lowered her head and opened her mouth.
It might have been a sign of a budding friendship had she not snatched the collection of wildflowers from the boy’s hand. Before Satsuma realized what had happened, his mother’s gift had become no more than stems.
“Hey, those were for Mother!” he said, chastising her. There was no real anger behind his words—especially after Kiso-chan licked his cheek as an apology. Satsuma laughed and forgave her before turning to the next matter of business.
“You need a name, don’t you?” He smiled and closed his eyes, clenching them tightly as he thought intently upon a proper name for her.
From out of his top knot, several strands of his long hair flew in the wind. That was exceptionally strange when there wasn’t a single gust to be had. The wind continued to blow until he opened his eyes once more, this time with the perfect name in mind.
“Kiso-chan. I believe that will be a fitting name, don’t you think?” Satsuma asked and Kiso-chan bowed her head, expecting scratches behind her ears. He of course complied, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were on the road together.
“At least, I think this is a road…” the boy spoke aloud. He and Kiso-chan walked side-by-side across the golden fields with frequent stops for particularly tasty pieces of grass. Unlike in the streets of Yamato or the thicket of the forest, Satsuma could see for many miles out here—which was both a blessing and a curse.
For he could see exactly where he was: in the middle of nowhere.
“We need to find Mother, Kyō-Kyō and Fuji-san. I hope they didn’t get into too much—wAH!”
Satsuma yelled as his foot sunk into the ground. Salt—or what felt like it—had submerged his right sandal up to his ankle. When he freed it he shook it off, and realized the tannish-white color wasn’t salt at all.
“This is called sand! I read about it in school,” Satsuma exclaimed. If he was looking for praise he would have to seek it elsewhere, as Kiyo-chan continued forth across the sand with ease. Feeling silly, the boy blushed and hurried back to the side of his new companion.
He squished across the warm sand and enjoyed the new tingling sensation of it between his toes. Though it was fun to walk on it was difficult, too: pulling his feet out from the shifting floor at every step zapped what little remained of his strength. It was getting harder and harder to keep pace with Kiyo-chan, who trotted forward at an increasing speed.
“Why are you, in such a, hurry?” Satsuma asked between staggered breaths. It would seem at least one of them knew where they were going, which was good considering the sun was beginning to set and night was approaching the Westlands.
Without a wind blowing it was eerily quiet, which made a yell from afar all the more frightening.
“Horse thief! Horse thief!” it echoed. “Stay dhere or I’ll shoot ya!”
Satsuma obeyed the voice and stopped mid-step. The accent was decidedly that of a Kondo, though the voice was much higher pitched than that of Kyō-Kyō and his men. Satsuma had to squint to make out the speaker, who was tiny at such a distance. Though as the figure approached, he realized the speaker was tiny—a child, in fact, no older than he.
The future emperor introduced himself. Or at least tried to.
“My name is—”
“Silence, Sisam!” the young Kondo said with an arrow notched back and ready to fire. It was a boy, Satsuma realized, with bright green eyes that seemed to shine against the evening’s darkness. His lips he kept pressed and sealed, save for when he scowled.
His coarse black hair was pulled back and covered with a bandana, made from a tanned leather called buckskin as were the rest of his robes. There were covered by a design of black and white lines that were at times square and at others, squiggly. Kyō-Kyō and the other Kondos wore kimonos with similar patterns, yet they looked entirely different on a boy.
The Kondo also inspected Satsuma for a long moment—it being his first time seeing a Sisam up close. ‘Sisam’ in his tongue meant Hyugan, though the word also served as ‘foreigner’ and ‘invader’. It was hard to imagine a kid like this as an enemy, but the Kondo had heard enough stories from the elders to be weary.
He undrew the arrow from his bowstring when he was satisfied that no one else was near, though in truth his arm had grown too tired to keep it pulled. He gestured to Kiyo-chan, clicking his tongue twice instructing her to come. When she didn’t, the Kondo boy grew frustrated.
“Come here, horse! You belong to us—not Sisam!”
“My name isn’t Sisam, it’s Satsuma! And I wasn’t trying to steal Kiyo-chan!”
The mare turned to face the future emperor at the sound of her name, bowing low to be petted just as before. Satsuma indulged her and frustrated the Kondo to no end.
“Dhis horse has no name—and neither do you!” he shouted, stomping his feet and shaking in frustration. “Everyone knows its bad luck to name a horse before its first birthday. Go back to your ranch, Sisam, or stay here and let dhe coyotes get you!”
“Coyotes? What are those?” Satsuma asked, innocently.
“Desert wolves. Wild dogs who eat foolish children,” the boy replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What do they sound like?”
“Dhey are like...ruah, ruah, raoOOOOOH!”
Satsuma laughed at the Kondo’s animal cry and tried his own. The two quickly entered a competition on who could mimic the beast louder, which went on until their throats were sore and they were beside themselves laughing.
*RuRoooAOOOAH*
“Amazing!” Satsuma said. “That sounded so real!”
The Kondo boy jumped to the balls of his feet and looked around in panic. He notched an arrow but couldn’t aim as his arm was too busy shaking.
“Dhat was real, Sisam! We’re not alone! I have to get dhis horse back home before dhey come!”
The boy climbed atop Kiyo-chan with ease. Satsuma had never seen someone ride a horse without a saddle before and, to be honest, he still hadn’t—Kiyo-chan refused to move. She paid the Kondo no mind even as the tiny rider slapped and prodded her in every effort to get her moving.
“Go, already! Why won’t you move, stubborn horse?”
It became increasingly obvious that she wouldn’t leave without Satsuma. This hurt the Kondo child’s pride, at least until he came up with a way to recover it. With a smug look on his face, he claimed Satsuma as his prisoner.
“I have decided dhat I will capture you and bring you to Papa. He’ll know what to do about a horse thief on our lands! Dhe punishment will be severe...now get on dhe horse, already!”
Though it wasn’t much of an invitation, Satsuma preferred the company of Kondos over that of desert wolves. Keeping the possible punishments far from his imagination, he haphazardly climbed up Kiyo-chan’s back to take up a seat behind the Kondo. He clutched his arms around him tightly when the horse took off.
“Stop...squeezing so hard, Sisam!”
“Oh, sorry,” Satsuma said as he loosened his hold. His focus shifted to his bottom—which hurt, sitting atop Kiyo-chan’s sharp bones and contracting muscles. Riding bareback, he could feel the mare’s heart beat beneath him. It was scary but exciting too, sitting atop such a majestic beast.
Watching the rolling sand dunes pass around them was enough to make Satsuma’s head spin, so instead he focused on the Kondo pressed up against him. An obvious question came to mind.
“Hey, um, what should I call you?”
There wasn’t a reply for some time. The future emperor thought he hadn’t heard him until he finally spoke. When he did, he gave much more than his name.
“My name is Toshio. I am dhe second born from my father, Nobutoshi. My brother Nobu is dhe first, of course. My mother is with dhe spirits and so are my grandparents. Dhey watch over me in dhe form of a swan. I am never alone.”
Toshio’s confident words resonated within Satsuma. The idea of never being alone had a lot of appeal to a six-year-old who had just recently been abandoned across the open plains. Not to mention that he had a spirit animal too!
“And I’m Satsuma,” he replied happily. “My father is named Seijirō, and my mother is Azusa. I don’t have any brothers or sisters...but I do have a spirit animal! It’s a lion!”
Toshio nearly fell off the horse. He turned backwards and ordered Satsuma to repeat his words again, and upon hearing it twice the boy broke out in laughter.
“Lions are brave and powerful,” Toshio chuckled. “You are not brave and not powerful! Hahaha!”
Satsuma fell into a silent pout. Though this boy seemed to know more about spirits than he did, that didn’t give him the right to make fun of him. The future emperor shifted his attention to their surroundings and noticed a familiar assortment of spiky plants they had passed ten minutes prior.
He hadn’t asked before what they were—he didn’t want to appear like a fool—but the fact he had seen them twice meant only one thing.
“I think we may be riding in circles, Toshio-kun. Are you sure you know where we’re going?”
Satsuma couldn’t see the Kondo’s face, but if he could he’d see that the boy was blushing from embarrassment. In truth, Toshio had lost Kiyo-chan while grazing the other horses. To amend his error, he went out searching for the mare alone—only to get lost himself.
He’d admit none of this to Satsuma, of course.
“It is...er...my name is Toshio! Don’t add anything to it, Satsuma. I-I mean, Sisam!” he yelled, flustered. The idea of getting lost in the desert brought him too much shame, but if he could bring back Satsuma he’d at least have an excuse for why it took so long to return.
That is, if they could make their way back.
“Which direction is your family, Toshio?” Satsuma asked, staring into the sky. Even with his incomplete schooling, he had learned the names and stories of all the major Shinto deities—and one in particular was useful right now. “Ameno Minaka Nushi-sama...he can help us. He’s known as the North Star, the brightest in the sky!”
“The lights in the sky have names?” Toshio gasped, staring at them with newfound wonder. Satsuma then instructed him on how to use the stars to navigate—at least until a waft of urine reached their noses.
It was the second surest sign that you had wandered into a coyote’s den. The first soon broke out from a hole in the side of a nearby dune.
*GrrRowl*
“A sand wolf! Hurry, Kiso-chan! I mean...go, horse!” Toshio yelled out as he tightened his hold on the horse’s black mane. Having spent all his years in this desert, the Kondo had never seen a Hyugan wolf before—the coyote was several times smaller, more akin to a dog, but with food as scarce as it was out here it was many times more ferocious.
Though this one was more than just angry. As it chased after them, tufts of its hair fell off its back, exposing discolored skin beneath. It was diseased, left alone by its pack to die. The two riders would’ve been more sympathetic if it wasn’t trying to gnaw Kiso-chan’s hind legs.
Toshio had never fired an arrow off a horse before, and certainly had no experience doing so while said horse was kicking out its back ankles to fend off an attacker. Gritting his teeth and sticking an arrow between them, he switched out his legs so that he was facing backwards instead of forward.
He tried to ignore Satsuma’s concerned expression as he took aim at the coyote. The Hyugan reminded him not to hit Kiyo-chan by accident—an unnecessary warning that only added stress to the young Kondo’s rattled nerves.
The wild canine was hard to see in the faint moonlight, and a lack of experience combined with the erratic bumps atop Kiyo-chan’s back made lining up a shot impossible. Though once he did have a shot, Kiyo-chan came to an immediate stop.
He had reached the peak of a sand dune and the height scared her; her immediate halt sent the riders tumbling forward. Satsuma was able to brace himself as he had his arms free, though Toshio had no such luck. He fell backwards, over Kiyo-chan’s head and down the sandy hill.
As he tumbled the coyote pursued, no longer interested in facing the mare’s back hooves. It was on Toshio almost immediately, grabbing at his buckskinned sleeve and ravaging it back and forth.
Seeing the boy’s body flail around beneath him invoked pure fear within Satsuma. But with it came anger too, and both fear and anger mixed to form what most men called courage. With an unspoken order, the rookie rider sent Kiyo-chan down the sand dune and after his friend.
“Would Toshio-kun ever want to be my friend?” Satsuma asked himself before far more pressing questions intervened. Like how he was going to free the boy from the coyote’s jaws, or how he was going to kill it—or if he could even bring himself to take a life.
His body answered while his mind surrendered control to adrenaline. As Kiyo-chan neared the fallen boy, the young rider took a fistful of her mane in one hand and outstretched the other, leaning well out of his seat to do so. He caught Toshio by the arm and pulled.
The Kondo was dazed and his head was still spinning from the tumble—but even so, he kicked and fumbled against the mangy beast as best he could. It was all for naught, however, after the coyote got its teeth around his ankle.
“AAAAH! AAAH!” he screamed. “Help me, Satsuma!”
His name was all the future emperor needed to hear; he pulled out his carving knife—the one his father had gifted him—and plunged it down into the coyote’s forehead. Satsuma and the sand wolf released their grip on the dagger and the Kondo respectively. Once freed, Toshio scrambled back onto Kiyo-chan’s back.
The mare pushed off and sprinted down the hill, leaving a cloud of upturned sand in her wake. Her riders panted and held each other tightly for support, sweating and—in Toshio’s case—bleeding. Once the adrenaline faded, his ankle began pulsing in pain.
Toshio bit his tongue and tried to ignore it. Crying over a scrape like this was what babies did, not hunters like him. When Satsuma expressed his concern he rebuffed him, and told him not to speak on the matter further.
So Satsuma changed the subject to his missing heirloom. Not the priceless necklace, but the far cheaper token that was many times more valuable in his mind. “That knife—we have to go back for it! It was my father’s!”
“Forget it, Satsu...Sisam. It is gone. Find a new weapon.”
“But I can’t! Please!” Satsuma pleaded. “He gave it to me for my birthday...I was gonna make lots of carvings to show him when I got home!”
Toshio remained silent while his companion began weeping behind his back. It was a shameful display, the boy knew, yet his heart hurt to see Satsuma so upset. Still...getting so concerned about a Sisam wasn’t right.
“Quit getting my clothes wet with dhose tears! I don’t know about your home, but...we are almost at mine.”
Thanks to the brightest star in the sky, the two made it back to familiar territory—at least for Toshio and Kiyo-chan. Satsuma could do nothing but sniffle and avert his gaze as they entered a valley with tents, firepits, and fences. There were as many horses visible as there were people, which was odd as one would expect most to be sleeping at such a late hour.
Their reason for prowling the grounds late at night was found in their yells; they called out Toshio’s name and each time they did the boy sunk into his seat a little lower. He wasn’t eager to reunite with them.
The one who found them was a woman who reminded Satsuma of Ume-Ume except that she had lips painted black and her fingers around Toshio’s ear. She all but plucked the young hunter off Kiyo-chan, and was prepared to unleash a verbal lashing until she met eyes with Satsuma.
Those almond-shaped eyes then went wide. “Dhis is...go, young one. Take dhe Sisam to your father...let us pray you don’t get us into any more trouble dhan you already have!”
Toshio nodded and pulled Satsuma down, then all but carried him into one of the larger huts at the center of the village. They were met with a cloud of smoke as Toshio held up the cloth doorway. It smelled of tobacco as well as other, earthy herbs Satsuma had never smelled before.
It also reeked of fatherly disappointment.
“Toshio! The whole tribe has been looking for you since mid-afternoon! Our best hunters had to cut their hunts short to search for you. What do you have to…” the man behind the central firepit paused. “Who is this boy with you? A Hyugan?”
The man whose features were lit by dancing flames had a handsome appearance, though an odd one as well: he had few wrinkles for a man his age, yet his hair was as white as a barn swallow’s belly. His beard was no different, though unlike the Kondos Satsuma had traveled with, it was kept short and orderly. Aside from his brown skin and white hair, he had eyes as green as his son’s.
It was safe to say he was the most colorful man Satsuma had ever seen. As if to contrast his appearance, his voice was a gruff monotone.
“Well? Explain yourself, Toshio.”
Toshio made the mistake of trying to plead his innocence, that he had returned Kiyo-chan and thus deserved no punishment, and that Satsuma along with countless other factors were all to blame for any potential wrongdoing on his account.
“Tomorrow you are to fetch water until supper as punishment. Now as for you...Satsuma, is it? Lady Nanbu has a child, if I recall. Are you hers?”
Satsuma shook his head. Finally remembering his manners, he bowed. “Thank you for having me, Nobutoshi-san. Lady Nanbu is not my mother...Lady Azusa is. We came from Yamato on a journey with Kyō-Kyō and—”
“That is a name I did not expect to hear. Not from a child of high birth such as you. Toshio,” Nobutoshi ordered, “go outside and look around the tent. Make sure no one is listening in.” After his son reluctantly complied, the Kondo brought a pipe to his lips and inhaled deeply before releasing the smoke and shaking his head.
“What troubles has my old friend brought to me this time?”
■■■■
Satsuma spent the night in Toshio’s tent, laying sleepless while learning that both the boy and his father were heavy snorers. It wasn’t as if he wanted sleep, anyway—the risk of a nightmare involving a coyote was too great.
When day broke, the Hyugan was instructed to stay inside and remain hidden. Toshio hurried off on chores while Nobutoshi left to speak with the elders. Satsuma could hear bits and pieces of their conversation as their voices carried.
The group’s shouting and cursing for hours on end was evidence enough that the Hyugan’s appearance in their lands had caused quite a stir. Satsuma fell into a depressed state as he blamed himself for all that had gone wrong.
That despair was on top of being homesick. Memories of his life in the Capital came back to him as painful nostalgia. His stomach growled but for only one treat in particular.
“Am I ever gonna taste taiyaki again?” he asked himself as he sulked in the corner. He thought of his mother and Fujibayashi, Kyō-Kyō and the others. He was just about to pray for their safety and swift return when the tent’s flap came up.
The light from the sun blinded him long enough for his imagination to take over. It went wild: he more than half expected to see his father standing there in his silk robes with his arms outstretched for a hug.
What he got, however, was a Kondo boy in buckskin leather with his arms crossed. Toshio looked far from amused; he was grimacing but not because of Satsuma.
“Hey, Sisam...dhat knife of yours, I went back and got it for you,” he said while revealing his find. “I cleaned it off but...the blade got chipped, you’ll have to—ah!”
He was cut short by a hug from his thankful companion. Though it wasn’t an uncommon gesture among Kondos, it still embarrassed Toshio to be embraced—by Satsuma in particular.
At that moment, Toshio staggered as his legs gave out beneath him and forced him to cling to Satsuma for support. The pain had become too much for him to bear.
“Toshio-kun! You’re hurt! It’s your foot, isn’t it?!”
The Kondo had walked halfway across the desert with an infected ankle. Every step brought with it great pain, but he had to retrieve Satsuma’s knife before the sands buried it or the vultures got to the coyote’s corpse.
He had no regrets as his consciousness faded. He looked up at the pale and childish face above him and smiled.
“One day...we’ll be friends, Satsuma-kun.”
Comments
Grey Warden
I LOVE to read more of the background story of these two.
Peace210ve
MY SATSUTOSH HEART IS SCREAMING THANK YOU DEVON THIS WAS ASKSLSLZKS❤️❤️❤️✨👏🏼✨👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼✨👌🏼👌🏼✨❤️
