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This is the beginning of what could be a longer story. Right now it is just a plot bunny. Ever since I saw the series first, I have asked myself of which allies Kanbei is speaking in the opening battle scene. And as I began to think about it, they began to take shape, along with some other elements. Shichiroji's song has also inspired parts of this story.
Title: The Gift of a Knife
by: Falconheart
Age: P-12
Pairing: Kanbei/Shichiroji (later on)
Summary: In his cell, awaiting his execution a strange message is brought to Kanbei, which triggers memories he wanted to forget.
DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.
The gift of a knife
“Who told you to bring me this?” Shimada Kanbei suspiciously eyed the small item lying on the cell floor before him. Even as he knew the serving girls which brought his meals were sympathetic, this had to come from someone else.
Mizuki was very near to shaking, bowing down again. “I don’t know his name, Samurai-sama, but he’s the prisoner in the next cell. He asked me to bring you this, when he heard your execution was to be tonight.”
Kanbei didn’t need to hear the name that he could guess easily. What lay on the cell’s cold floor before him was a small dagger, of that kind that was used to penetrate small cracks in the enemies armor. The blade was flat and of slender shape, easily hidden in the sleeves or below bracers. Kanbei heard the sound of the cell door closing, Mizuki had retreated hastily. The samurai did not look up, his eyes were fixed on the knife before him. Tough starkly unadorned did he recognise the peculiar shape of the ebony hilt along with two long scratches at the blade at once. The knife had retained these markings when it had been used to cut Kanbei out of a wreck. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had last seen the man to whom this blade belonged, yet it was just five years. So Akinari was a prisoner too and had heard of Kanbei. Small wonder, concerning that the guards had hardly another subject for their idle chatter than the much awaited execution. Somehow Akinari must have managed to keep his dagger when detained and more, he had convinced the girl to bring the blade to Kanbei. The gesture touched Kanbei deeply, the man who had send this knife had wanted to give him the chance to die honourably, like a samurai should, depriving himself of said weapon. Slowly Kanbei weighed that blade in his hands. Up to this moment he had hardly had any chance to decide his own fate, now this had changed. Akinari had provided him with the means, to die as a Samurai, even as Akinari himself had thought not much of all this. Vivid memories rose in Shimada Kanbei, carrying him years back…
The past
Another explosion nearly threw Kanbei off his feet, he managed barely to remain standing, his blade slashing through another Shadowcrawler. Shichiroji’s whirling lance hit two others of them. For a moment they managed to break free. What remained of their small fighting force was regrouping in the small vale. For now the hillsides were protecting them from the crimson spider’s blast canons. At least the deadly rain of light came only from one direction, Kanbei’s katana whirled through the air, as he reflected half a dozen shots back at their enemies. The explosives fired by smaller mechas were far more dangerous for them, crumbling the vale’s walls with any new hit, that shock the mountains around them. A flash caught his eye as Shichiroji’s lance split another mecha in two. His comrade cast a short glance at him. “We’re not going to make it.” There wasn’t resignation in his voice, he was just stating a fact. Even as their mission had been a full success, they needed air cover to get out of here. Kanbei reflected another gun blast, before a murderous explosion shook the vale around them, throwing him on the ground. Looking up he saw the crimson spider exploding high up in the air, another one went only moments after. Pulling up his field glasses he perceived half a dozen small black craft battling the mechas. Kanbei only vaguely recalled having seen such fighters before, they belonged to some allies of them. For now he was content to have the chance to get his men out of this damned vale.
Kanbei had led his men out of the trap of the valley. Like always he and Shichiroji had been the spearhead of the attack, slicing their way through uncounted enemies. High above them the last of the crimson spiders exploded, burning parts were hailing down beside them. Kanbei saw that their comrades were beginning to land. Their dark fighters circling above the mountains before cautiously setting down. He led his men towards their landing place. He felt grim, he never had felt especially well about their allies, but at least they were no mechanic samurai. Samurai, that was it, what made him irritated, they were no Samurai at all. Like some of the raiders they had come from the dark skies. Kanbei had never liked to have them at their side. The lead fighter, completely black, with a bloodred marked nose had landed closest to them, the pilot already emerged from the machine.
Flowing pale hair, violet eyes, strange silvery skin contrasting from completely black uniforms, moving like there was no gravity to hold him onground he came walking towards Kanbei. His men went to help the wounded. “You are that Samurai-General who’s fighting for your boy-emperor, I take it?” He spoke nearly without accent, only the strange musical tone in the sentences betrayed him still.
Kanbei nodded. “Shimada Kanbei,” he introduced himself, without commenting on the disrespectful way the man had taken. “Your help was timely.”
“I’m glad we could be of assistance. Did any of your men remain behind? We have transport inbound to get you off before more spiders arrive.”
He had not cared to tell his name, their ‘noble allies’ seemed to know of no politeness at all. “No, we left no one behind.” Kanbei replied rather coldly.
The pale eyebrows arched up. “That few men, to take out a renegade warlord? You have my respects.” There was something like genuine respect or at least admiration in his voice.
“Commander, transport is inbound!” The call came from one of the other pilots. Their leader turned again to Kanbei. “Every fighter can take one of your people, my gunner was killed during the battle, so I can take two, the rest goes on the transporter.”
“Won’t you take the body of your gunner back?” Shichiroji asked, eying the black fighters curiously. Kanbei could tell that his friend was fascinated by the sleek machines.
The pilot’s leader shook his head. “He is dead, what remains is just a broken shell he left behind.” For moments their eyes met, and Kanbei saw to his astonishment that the pilot’s gaze wasn’t completely cold. “We do not mourn our dead, Shichiroji-san.” The pilot added after a moments hesitation.
Kanbei noted that the pilot was not without politeness, but rather unsure of the forms. He was a stranger after all. “What is your name?” he inquired while they returned to the leader’s fighter. It was without question that Kanbei and Shichiroji were to fly with him.
The pilot stopped before entering his fighter again. “Among your people I go by Akinari, that’s what some of your people made out of my name. Let’s stick to it.”
The fighters took off, keeping a tight formation around the transport. Kanbei found himself in the emergency seat of the fighter, because Shichiroji had taken the dead gunners place. Kanbei had nothing to do, while the fighters began to rise and so studied silently how the mountains fell back, still thinking about the tactical situation, he realised after some moments, that Shichiroji and Akinari were engaged in a conversation, while the fighters sped up. “No, I can’t take him much faster, the transport is too slow and we’re still in ascent. I told the squad that we’re going up and make a run for it. Most of Mechas have trouble in great heights, which will save us from running into their patrols.”
Shichiroji still studying the controls, replied: “But that’s where we are more likely to run into their motherships, they have them in greater heights except when attacking ground targets.”
Akinari laughed softly, while taking the machine through slow acceleration. “Yes, but our Sparrowhawks are faster, we can run from them any time. Their heavy guns have problems to hit a target of that size. The transport is the only real victim for them.”
***
For almost one hour they had flown undisturbed. Kanbei had been slightly amused by the pilot-chatter between Akinari and Shichiroji. He could see that his friend was fascinated and enjoyed talking to another pilot for a change. So Kanbei did not speak at all, content to study both pilots. He had even begun to enjoy their ride. The crackling of the radio ripped him from his meditations. “Eagle, a greatship is trailing us. Oh no… it’s… it’s… a raker.”
Akinari switched channels. “Steady, Condor. Back into formation, stay with green. Do as they do. Group green: you escort the transport out of here. Group Black and Silver – you are with me.”
The fighters turned from the course upwards to the shadow that was emerging from the dusty clouds. “I thought you could outrun them.” Kanbei observed.
“You must be of some worth to our noble enemies,” Akinari commented dryly. “A raker is the only greatship that can outrun us. And they’re rare.” The long shape became now visible beyond the clouds, a hailstorm of missiles greeted them. The fighters evaded most of them, Akinari brought them right through the middle of such swarm. “ Group Black: two concessive runs, we need to weaken their defences. Silver – you stand by, as soon as their defences are down take out their starboard thrusters.”
Clouds of fire and debris were swirling around the fighter, the air outside must be burning, yet the fighter was still intact. “Three runs and no serious damage on their side,” Akinari whispered before keying into the channel. “We have to scrape together all firepower we have for one opening.” While speaking he turned the fighter, rolling over to port and dodged another set of missiles.
“Can you bring me directly on that ship?” Kanbei asked quietly. He could only hope that Akinari was as good a pilot as Shichiroji, who could talk without being distracted from his flying.
“Perhaps I could, but what good would it do? Do you think you can take out that raker all by yourself?” Akinari was turning his fighter for another run.
“Of cause.”
Akinari barked a laugh. “Oh, I forgot whom I have onboard. The problem is: To get through their shielding, we’d have to come in frontal, inside the angle of their main canon. Bad idea.”
“I’ll deflect the blasts.” Kanbei already began checking how he would be able to get out of that fighter.
Akinari was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Well then, I’ll do it. But remember: This fighter wasn’t constructed to carry someone on the outside. I’ll get you in, then circle the ship to get you off again.”
Kanbei was standing upon the nose of the sleek fighter, while they were preparing for their new run. “Eagle, what are you doing?” Came the startled question from Akinari’s right hand man. “
“Black and Silver: retreat to safety distance and circle the raker. We’re trying something new. Something native.” Akinari’s voice was cold and ironic before he barked: “And now cut the chatter!”
The Sparrowhawk was heading in again, Akinari and Shichroji worked hard to make the murderous flight possible. The main canon targeted them, but every blast was reflected by Kanbei, widening the crack in their defences a little more. “Kanbei, the main exhaust vent of their energy core is portside right behind their stabilizers.” They passed the main shielding and the fighter was racing alongside the raker. Kanbei waited until they reached the portside stabilizers before he jumped off the fighter, landing on the battleship’s hull. He hardly remembered the technical details Akinari had given. Kanbei was back on his battlefield, outside a ship. He knew exactly what he had to do.
The raker was breaking apart, explosions were shaking the ship. Kanbei saw the black silhouette of the sparrowhawk coming in. Akinari was dancing a dangerous dance along the dying battleship. One wing of the sparrowhawk came down, Kanbei gripped the hot metal, entering up. Moments later the fighter rose again, leaving the dying raker behind.
***
“General, it was an honour to meet you.” They stood in one of the fortress’s outer courtyards. The sun was setting, Akinari looked the more the stranger in this familiar surroundings.
“Your men did well, too.” Kanbei replied. Akinari still did not know the proper forms of behaviour, but perhaps he would learn, when fighting alongside Samurai for some time. A force combined of such ships and Samurai would certainly be of some advantage. But this was not for now to be told.
***
Kanbei’s thoughts slowly returned to the present time. He was still clutching Akinari’s dagger. A rare smile lit in Kanbei’s eyes. Akinari never had learned the proper forms of behaviour and speech much as he had tried, and he had never understood the way of the Samurai, but had respected them. The very knife in Kanbei’s hand was a token of that respect. Akinari himself would never think of taking his own life, but he knew what a Samurai would do, even as he would call it a waste. Kanbei almost could hear Akinari’s voice. “That’s what it means to be a survivor: to be still around to annoy your enemy.” Kanbei sighed. “I accept your present in the spirit in which it was given.”
***
It wasn’t the knife which saved Kanbei, but the hairpin of Mizuki, even as the knife came handy in the ensuing fight. Not that anything ended the way it was to be expected. While still be lead through the capital to get to the girls and Sanae, Kanbei cautiously tried to inquire after Akinari. “There was another prisoner.”
Tessai’s grin became sly. “The pale haired one? Acyar’daryn? He was sold before we reached our destination. There are some pleasure houses that like to have his kind.”
Kanbei fought back any visible reaction. He could only hope, that Akinari had found some chance of escape after he had been taken away.
Title: The Gift of a Knife
by: Falconheart
Age: P-12
Pairing: Kanbei/Shichiroji (later on)
Summary: In his cell, awaiting his execution a strange message is brought to Kanbei, which triggers memories he wanted to forget.
DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.
The gift of a knife
“Who told you to bring me this?” Shimada Kanbei suspiciously eyed the small item lying on the cell floor before him. Even as he knew the serving girls which brought his meals were sympathetic, this had to come from someone else.
Mizuki was very near to shaking, bowing down again. “I don’t know his name, Samurai-sama, but he’s the prisoner in the next cell. He asked me to bring you this, when he heard your execution was to be tonight.”
Kanbei didn’t need to hear the name that he could guess easily. What lay on the cell’s cold floor before him was a small dagger, of that kind that was used to penetrate small cracks in the enemies armor. The blade was flat and of slender shape, easily hidden in the sleeves or below bracers. Kanbei heard the sound of the cell door closing, Mizuki had retreated hastily. The samurai did not look up, his eyes were fixed on the knife before him. Tough starkly unadorned did he recognise the peculiar shape of the ebony hilt along with two long scratches at the blade at once. The knife had retained these markings when it had been used to cut Kanbei out of a wreck. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had last seen the man to whom this blade belonged, yet it was just five years. So Akinari was a prisoner too and had heard of Kanbei. Small wonder, concerning that the guards had hardly another subject for their idle chatter than the much awaited execution. Somehow Akinari must have managed to keep his dagger when detained and more, he had convinced the girl to bring the blade to Kanbei. The gesture touched Kanbei deeply, the man who had send this knife had wanted to give him the chance to die honourably, like a samurai should, depriving himself of said weapon. Slowly Kanbei weighed that blade in his hands. Up to this moment he had hardly had any chance to decide his own fate, now this had changed. Akinari had provided him with the means, to die as a Samurai, even as Akinari himself had thought not much of all this. Vivid memories rose in Shimada Kanbei, carrying him years back…
The past
Another explosion nearly threw Kanbei off his feet, he managed barely to remain standing, his blade slashing through another Shadowcrawler. Shichiroji’s whirling lance hit two others of them. For a moment they managed to break free. What remained of their small fighting force was regrouping in the small vale. For now the hillsides were protecting them from the crimson spider’s blast canons. At least the deadly rain of light came only from one direction, Kanbei’s katana whirled through the air, as he reflected half a dozen shots back at their enemies. The explosives fired by smaller mechas were far more dangerous for them, crumbling the vale’s walls with any new hit, that shock the mountains around them. A flash caught his eye as Shichiroji’s lance split another mecha in two. His comrade cast a short glance at him. “We’re not going to make it.” There wasn’t resignation in his voice, he was just stating a fact. Even as their mission had been a full success, they needed air cover to get out of here. Kanbei reflected another gun blast, before a murderous explosion shook the vale around them, throwing him on the ground. Looking up he saw the crimson spider exploding high up in the air, another one went only moments after. Pulling up his field glasses he perceived half a dozen small black craft battling the mechas. Kanbei only vaguely recalled having seen such fighters before, they belonged to some allies of them. For now he was content to have the chance to get his men out of this damned vale.
Kanbei had led his men out of the trap of the valley. Like always he and Shichiroji had been the spearhead of the attack, slicing their way through uncounted enemies. High above them the last of the crimson spiders exploded, burning parts were hailing down beside them. Kanbei saw that their comrades were beginning to land. Their dark fighters circling above the mountains before cautiously setting down. He led his men towards their landing place. He felt grim, he never had felt especially well about their allies, but at least they were no mechanic samurai. Samurai, that was it, what made him irritated, they were no Samurai at all. Like some of the raiders they had come from the dark skies. Kanbei had never liked to have them at their side. The lead fighter, completely black, with a bloodred marked nose had landed closest to them, the pilot already emerged from the machine.
Flowing pale hair, violet eyes, strange silvery skin contrasting from completely black uniforms, moving like there was no gravity to hold him onground he came walking towards Kanbei. His men went to help the wounded. “You are that Samurai-General who’s fighting for your boy-emperor, I take it?” He spoke nearly without accent, only the strange musical tone in the sentences betrayed him still.
Kanbei nodded. “Shimada Kanbei,” he introduced himself, without commenting on the disrespectful way the man had taken. “Your help was timely.”
“I’m glad we could be of assistance. Did any of your men remain behind? We have transport inbound to get you off before more spiders arrive.”
He had not cared to tell his name, their ‘noble allies’ seemed to know of no politeness at all. “No, we left no one behind.” Kanbei replied rather coldly.
The pale eyebrows arched up. “That few men, to take out a renegade warlord? You have my respects.” There was something like genuine respect or at least admiration in his voice.
“Commander, transport is inbound!” The call came from one of the other pilots. Their leader turned again to Kanbei. “Every fighter can take one of your people, my gunner was killed during the battle, so I can take two, the rest goes on the transporter.”
“Won’t you take the body of your gunner back?” Shichiroji asked, eying the black fighters curiously. Kanbei could tell that his friend was fascinated by the sleek machines.
The pilot’s leader shook his head. “He is dead, what remains is just a broken shell he left behind.” For moments their eyes met, and Kanbei saw to his astonishment that the pilot’s gaze wasn’t completely cold. “We do not mourn our dead, Shichiroji-san.” The pilot added after a moments hesitation.
Kanbei noted that the pilot was not without politeness, but rather unsure of the forms. He was a stranger after all. “What is your name?” he inquired while they returned to the leader’s fighter. It was without question that Kanbei and Shichiroji were to fly with him.
The pilot stopped before entering his fighter again. “Among your people I go by Akinari, that’s what some of your people made out of my name. Let’s stick to it.”
The fighters took off, keeping a tight formation around the transport. Kanbei found himself in the emergency seat of the fighter, because Shichiroji had taken the dead gunners place. Kanbei had nothing to do, while the fighters began to rise and so studied silently how the mountains fell back, still thinking about the tactical situation, he realised after some moments, that Shichiroji and Akinari were engaged in a conversation, while the fighters sped up. “No, I can’t take him much faster, the transport is too slow and we’re still in ascent. I told the squad that we’re going up and make a run for it. Most of Mechas have trouble in great heights, which will save us from running into their patrols.”
Shichiroji still studying the controls, replied: “But that’s where we are more likely to run into their motherships, they have them in greater heights except when attacking ground targets.”
Akinari laughed softly, while taking the machine through slow acceleration. “Yes, but our Sparrowhawks are faster, we can run from them any time. Their heavy guns have problems to hit a target of that size. The transport is the only real victim for them.”
***
For almost one hour they had flown undisturbed. Kanbei had been slightly amused by the pilot-chatter between Akinari and Shichiroji. He could see that his friend was fascinated and enjoyed talking to another pilot for a change. So Kanbei did not speak at all, content to study both pilots. He had even begun to enjoy their ride. The crackling of the radio ripped him from his meditations. “Eagle, a greatship is trailing us. Oh no… it’s… it’s… a raker.”
Akinari switched channels. “Steady, Condor. Back into formation, stay with green. Do as they do. Group green: you escort the transport out of here. Group Black and Silver – you are with me.”
The fighters turned from the course upwards to the shadow that was emerging from the dusty clouds. “I thought you could outrun them.” Kanbei observed.
“You must be of some worth to our noble enemies,” Akinari commented dryly. “A raker is the only greatship that can outrun us. And they’re rare.” The long shape became now visible beyond the clouds, a hailstorm of missiles greeted them. The fighters evaded most of them, Akinari brought them right through the middle of such swarm. “ Group Black: two concessive runs, we need to weaken their defences. Silver – you stand by, as soon as their defences are down take out their starboard thrusters.”
Clouds of fire and debris were swirling around the fighter, the air outside must be burning, yet the fighter was still intact. “Three runs and no serious damage on their side,” Akinari whispered before keying into the channel. “We have to scrape together all firepower we have for one opening.” While speaking he turned the fighter, rolling over to port and dodged another set of missiles.
“Can you bring me directly on that ship?” Kanbei asked quietly. He could only hope that Akinari was as good a pilot as Shichiroji, who could talk without being distracted from his flying.
“Perhaps I could, but what good would it do? Do you think you can take out that raker all by yourself?” Akinari was turning his fighter for another run.
“Of cause.”
Akinari barked a laugh. “Oh, I forgot whom I have onboard. The problem is: To get through their shielding, we’d have to come in frontal, inside the angle of their main canon. Bad idea.”
“I’ll deflect the blasts.” Kanbei already began checking how he would be able to get out of that fighter.
Akinari was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Well then, I’ll do it. But remember: This fighter wasn’t constructed to carry someone on the outside. I’ll get you in, then circle the ship to get you off again.”
Kanbei was standing upon the nose of the sleek fighter, while they were preparing for their new run. “Eagle, what are you doing?” Came the startled question from Akinari’s right hand man. “
“Black and Silver: retreat to safety distance and circle the raker. We’re trying something new. Something native.” Akinari’s voice was cold and ironic before he barked: “And now cut the chatter!”
The Sparrowhawk was heading in again, Akinari and Shichroji worked hard to make the murderous flight possible. The main canon targeted them, but every blast was reflected by Kanbei, widening the crack in their defences a little more. “Kanbei, the main exhaust vent of their energy core is portside right behind their stabilizers.” They passed the main shielding and the fighter was racing alongside the raker. Kanbei waited until they reached the portside stabilizers before he jumped off the fighter, landing on the battleship’s hull. He hardly remembered the technical details Akinari had given. Kanbei was back on his battlefield, outside a ship. He knew exactly what he had to do.
The raker was breaking apart, explosions were shaking the ship. Kanbei saw the black silhouette of the sparrowhawk coming in. Akinari was dancing a dangerous dance along the dying battleship. One wing of the sparrowhawk came down, Kanbei gripped the hot metal, entering up. Moments later the fighter rose again, leaving the dying raker behind.
***
“General, it was an honour to meet you.” They stood in one of the fortress’s outer courtyards. The sun was setting, Akinari looked the more the stranger in this familiar surroundings.
“Your men did well, too.” Kanbei replied. Akinari still did not know the proper forms of behaviour, but perhaps he would learn, when fighting alongside Samurai for some time. A force combined of such ships and Samurai would certainly be of some advantage. But this was not for now to be told.
***
Kanbei’s thoughts slowly returned to the present time. He was still clutching Akinari’s dagger. A rare smile lit in Kanbei’s eyes. Akinari never had learned the proper forms of behaviour and speech much as he had tried, and he had never understood the way of the Samurai, but had respected them. The very knife in Kanbei’s hand was a token of that respect. Akinari himself would never think of taking his own life, but he knew what a Samurai would do, even as he would call it a waste. Kanbei almost could hear Akinari’s voice. “That’s what it means to be a survivor: to be still around to annoy your enemy.” Kanbei sighed. “I accept your present in the spirit in which it was given.”
***
It wasn’t the knife which saved Kanbei, but the hairpin of Mizuki, even as the knife came handy in the ensuing fight. Not that anything ended the way it was to be expected. While still be lead through the capital to get to the girls and Sanae, Kanbei cautiously tried to inquire after Akinari. “There was another prisoner.”
Tessai’s grin became sly. “The pale haired one? Acyar’daryn? He was sold before we reached our destination. There are some pleasure houses that like to have his kind.”
Kanbei fought back any visible reaction. He could only hope, that Akinari had found some chance of escape after he had been taken away.
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Date: 2006-07-02 01:25 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 01:29 pm (UTC)From:*Puts on her thinking cap* I've already begun, to write it just interrupted the work to do the wallpaper.
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Date: 2006-07-02 04:40 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 01:37 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 04:39 pm (UTC)From: