The Musician and the Samurai
Pairing: Akame
Rating: PG for some violence and language
Disclaimer: Sadly... [sighs]
Summary: Kame is a samurai. Jin is a musician. They have ADVENTURES.
Author’s Notes: For lilmatchgirl007 for her first round prompt, but written at luciene's prodding. Also, saengie wrote an amazing, amazing remix of this called " The first snow of the year." Please read! It's really good. ♥
The tea house is quiet and peaceful, as it should be, the soft laughter of its many customers drifting through in bursts of sound. A lone, hooded shamisen player plucks idly away at the strings, some slow, nameless tune adding its sensual undertone to the mix of noise.
Kame knocks back another cup of sake and broods. This is how life should be. But this is not how his life is. His life... seems like it should be over, is what.
"One more!" he calls out towards the harried-looking server, who scrambles to obey.
He probably shouldn't be drinking this much, he knows, but it's not like he has anything better to do. So why not? he thinks angrily, the room spinning slightly in the rush of emotion. Yeah, why the fuck not, huh?
At least he still has his sword with him.
"Hey, hey, mister. You don't look too happy with the world."
A sneering face comes into view before blurring at the edges. Kame frowns at it in irritation.
"The fuck do you want?"
"Awww, are you upset? A pretty young thing like you should never be alone. How about joining us for the evening, hmmm?" Deep, masculine chuckles rumble from all around him, and Kame realizes in his stupor that he is surrounded.
As if, he thinks dismissively. I am a samurai.
"Go 'way," he mutters. "Just leave me alone."
"Come on, now, don't be like that--"
"I said go away!" He stumbles upright, drawing his sword and trying not to sway. The table has been kicked away, and he blinks rapidly, trying to focus on his opponents.
"Well, if that's the way you want it," one of them snarls before they all set on him.
To be fair, Kame starts out perfectly fine. But the alcohol has clouded his judgment and slowed his reflexes. His feet won't move in conjunction with his arms, and he finds himself flailing across the floor, dragged down by the hands of his attackers. They pin him to the mats, and he tries to struggle, but the lamps just burn brighter, obscuring his vision.
And then suddenly... Suddenly, they are all gone. There is muted yelling and screaming from somewhere above him, but he can't move at all. Another face peers down into his own, looking vaguely amused but not particularly leery.
"You've fallen a long way, young samurai."
He wants to grunt in reply, but by the time it occurs to him to do so, he's already out like a light.
* * *
"How are you feeling?"
Kame groans and turns away from the firelight, which is clearly doing its best to melt his eyes. He feels groggy and nasty, like something thrashed around in his skull and then crawled into his mouth to die.
"Here." He glances up warily to see a water skin dangling in front of his nose. "Drink some. You'll feel better."
After a lot of groaning and what Kame considers an extreme exercise in will power, he manages to haul himself upright. He takes a few big gulps and almost chokes, but the cool, clean water clears his head and soothes his parched throat, making him feel slightly more human again.
"Thank you," he murmurs, handing the water skin back and really looking at his savior for the first time.
The man flashes him another amused smile before sitting down on a rock by the fire. He's handsome, in a young kind of way, features soft and gentle. But there's steel beneath the prettiness, a certain hard reserve in those dark eyes. The man stirs the flames briefly before bending to pick up an instrument. A shamisen.
The player, Kame realizes. From the teahouse.
Shit, I was rescued by a musician?!
If his life wasn't over before, it is definitely over now. What kind of samurai gets rescued by a musician?
But on the other hand, if he was good enough to beat an entire crowd of drunken louts without a weapon, without even damaging his instrument, then he's definitely someone to be reckoned with. Someone so strong had to be something more, right?
"Who are you?" he asks suspiciously.
The man doesn't even look up from expertly tuning the shamisen. "Just a poor musician who's willing to play for a bowl of rice."
Kame raises an eyebrow. "You don't have a name?"
Long-fingered hands pause briefly. "People call me Jin."
Kame raises his other eyebrow. It's an odd name, which means it's probably fake, but since… Jin saved him, he decides not to question it.
"Where are we going, Jin-san?"
The musician glances at him in surprise. "It's just Jin. I'm going to Aichi to try my luck there. What you do with yourself is your choice."
"I owe you life debt, Jin-kun." Kame gives him a challenging stare. He has no pride left, none, but he will honor his dues nonetheless. "My sword is in your service until it is satisfied."
Jin laughs, a high burst of sound in the crisp night air. "I don't know what I would do with a sword," he muses. "And I certainly hope I won't need it. But these are dangerous times, and company on wayward roads could not go amiss. Very well, young samurai. Let us be companions."
Ahhh, I couldn't help it. >.< Both misao_duo and razberrycreme and Matchy herself, actually, have written very awesome fics for this very awesome prompt, but I couldn't help wondering what would happen if martial!master!musician!Jin had to save drunken!samurai!Kame... XD Please forgive, ne.
Rating: PG for some violence and language
Disclaimer: Sadly... [sighs]
Summary: Kame is a samurai. Jin is a musician. They have ADVENTURES.
Author’s Notes: For lilmatchgirl007 for her first round prompt, but written at luciene's prodding. Also, saengie wrote an amazing, amazing remix of this called " The first snow of the year." Please read! It's really good. ♥
The tea house is quiet and peaceful, as it should be, the soft laughter of its many customers drifting through in bursts of sound. A lone, hooded shamisen player plucks idly away at the strings, some slow, nameless tune adding its sensual undertone to the mix of noise.
Kame knocks back another cup of sake and broods. This is how life should be. But this is not how his life is. His life... seems like it should be over, is what.
"One more!" he calls out towards the harried-looking server, who scrambles to obey.
He probably shouldn't be drinking this much, he knows, but it's not like he has anything better to do. So why not? he thinks angrily, the room spinning slightly in the rush of emotion. Yeah, why the fuck not, huh?
At least he still has his sword with him.
"Hey, hey, mister. You don't look too happy with the world."
A sneering face comes into view before blurring at the edges. Kame frowns at it in irritation.
"The fuck do you want?"
"Awww, are you upset? A pretty young thing like you should never be alone. How about joining us for the evening, hmmm?" Deep, masculine chuckles rumble from all around him, and Kame realizes in his stupor that he is surrounded.
As if, he thinks dismissively. I am a samurai.
"Go 'way," he mutters. "Just leave me alone."
"Come on, now, don't be like that--"
"I said go away!" He stumbles upright, drawing his sword and trying not to sway. The table has been kicked away, and he blinks rapidly, trying to focus on his opponents.
"Well, if that's the way you want it," one of them snarls before they all set on him.
To be fair, Kame starts out perfectly fine. But the alcohol has clouded his judgment and slowed his reflexes. His feet won't move in conjunction with his arms, and he finds himself flailing across the floor, dragged down by the hands of his attackers. They pin him to the mats, and he tries to struggle, but the lamps just burn brighter, obscuring his vision.
And then suddenly... Suddenly, they are all gone. There is muted yelling and screaming from somewhere above him, but he can't move at all. Another face peers down into his own, looking vaguely amused but not particularly leery.
"You've fallen a long way, young samurai."
He wants to grunt in reply, but by the time it occurs to him to do so, he's already out like a light.
* * *
"How are you feeling?"
Kame groans and turns away from the firelight, which is clearly doing its best to melt his eyes. He feels groggy and nasty, like something thrashed around in his skull and then crawled into his mouth to die.
"Here." He glances up warily to see a water skin dangling in front of his nose. "Drink some. You'll feel better."
After a lot of groaning and what Kame considers an extreme exercise in will power, he manages to haul himself upright. He takes a few big gulps and almost chokes, but the cool, clean water clears his head and soothes his parched throat, making him feel slightly more human again.
"Thank you," he murmurs, handing the water skin back and really looking at his savior for the first time.
The man flashes him another amused smile before sitting down on a rock by the fire. He's handsome, in a young kind of way, features soft and gentle. But there's steel beneath the prettiness, a certain hard reserve in those dark eyes. The man stirs the flames briefly before bending to pick up an instrument. A shamisen.
The player, Kame realizes. From the teahouse.
Shit, I was rescued by a musician?!
If his life wasn't over before, it is definitely over now. What kind of samurai gets rescued by a musician?
But on the other hand, if he was good enough to beat an entire crowd of drunken louts without a weapon, without even damaging his instrument, then he's definitely someone to be reckoned with. Someone so strong had to be something more, right?
"Who are you?" he asks suspiciously.
The man doesn't even look up from expertly tuning the shamisen. "Just a poor musician who's willing to play for a bowl of rice."
Kame raises an eyebrow. "You don't have a name?"
Long-fingered hands pause briefly. "People call me Jin."
Kame raises his other eyebrow. It's an odd name, which means it's probably fake, but since… Jin saved him, he decides not to question it.
"Where are we going, Jin-san?"
The musician glances at him in surprise. "It's just Jin. I'm going to Aichi to try my luck there. What you do with yourself is your choice."
"I owe you life debt, Jin-kun." Kame gives him a challenging stare. He has no pride left, none, but he will honor his dues nonetheless. "My sword is in your service until it is satisfied."
Jin laughs, a high burst of sound in the crisp night air. "I don't know what I would do with a sword," he muses. "And I certainly hope I won't need it. But these are dangerous times, and company on wayward roads could not go amiss. Very well, young samurai. Let us be companions."
Ahhh, I couldn't help it. >.< Both misao_duo and razberrycreme and Matchy herself, actually, have written very awesome fics for this very awesome prompt, but I couldn't help wondering what would happen if martial!master!musician!Jin had to save drunken!samurai!Kame... XD Please forgive, ne.