"A Storm in the West", Chapter Seven
Title: A Storm in the West
Chapter: 7/13
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): implied Jun --> Sho, Sho --> Jun
Rating: R
Warnings: Back to heavy language use and violence this chapter.
Summary: A saloon owner with an enigmatic past, an idealistic sheriff, a remorseful shotgun messenger, and the town that unites them.
By the time the last embers of the damn fire had finally stopped glowing red in the darkness, Sho's shoulders were screaming in misery. His entire body felt like he'd been trampled by a stampede; the adrenaline was finally abating, and the repercussions of their frenzied activity was taking hold, making every muscle throb in exhaustion. His head hurt something awful, and there were spots at the edges of his vision as he glared down at the ruined debris that used to be the dry goods store.
He hadn't seen it coming- dammit, he hadn't seen it coming. And he'd been so wrapped up in Nino's underhanded manipulations and Jun's return and the ridiculous tension between them that he hadn't thought about Mendoza coming back with a swift kick where it hurt the most. They were supply-less, perched on the edge of an expanse of desert, and their deputy was due back in days with the womenfolk. Shit- he couldn't figure his next move, 'specially not staring down at the ash-strewn building they'd spent hours trying to save.
'Cross the debris, Thompson was kicking at the remains with the toe of his boot, and then there was a hand on Sho's shoulder, fingers curling 'round and squeezing.
"Nothing more we can do, sheriff." Didn't matter that Jun was voicing the same thing screaming through Sho's head- still hurt to hear. Still made his blood boil and bubble in rage that Mendoza had struck so low, so dirty. He could still hear Ninomiya's screams in his ear, like the man was still standing next to him, hands balled and throat hoarse. Dammit all. He hadn't wanted to lose any more of Rapid Springs' men to the Sandburg Boys, least of all not one he'd been friendly with.
The hand on his shoulder moved up to the back of his neck, tangling in the grimy hair there- every part of him was covered in soot, ash, and sweat. He leaned back unconsciously into the touch; with Jun, every bit of pressure from his fingertips was deliberate. Sho ignored the rapid increase of his heart in his chest.
"Yeah," was all he managed to choke out. "I know."
Jun started leading him away, pressure on his back in the direction opposite the ruined structure- back towards the sheriff's station. It almost felt like desertion leaving the scene, and it didn't matter that there was nothing left; Sho had been put in charge of keeping Rapid Springs safe, and he'd failed her just when she needed him the most. It clogged his throat, choking him like the overbearing summer heat.
"Wait," he mumbled, half-stumbling over part of the roof that had fallen free and landed on the main drag.
"Nothing more to do here," Jun repeated, and the pressure on Sho's shoulders increased just a bit- even if he hadn't been exhausted, he probably wouldn't have fought against it. He let the gunslinger lead him back towards the station, swallowing down rising bile of shame and defeat. Ohno deserved at least a Christian burial, and all they could give him was the smoldering ashes of the bakery he'd so loved. Didn't seem right- didn't seem right at all, and it clouded all of Sho's already muddled thoughts.
"Should've done something," he murmured, as he stepped back in through the station's front door.
"What?" Jun asked.
"Don't know," Sho replied. "Just- something."
Ninomiya was still out cold, silent in the cell, body draped across the mattress like a limp doll. Seeing his prostrate form only made the lump in Sho's throat swell further, but at least they moved past the bars without stopping. Jun pushed him gently into the bedroom.
"Ain't no use worrying 'bout it tonight," he said, as Sho collapsed onto the bed and let his head fall in his hands. He could still see the flames, brighter than the moon in the sky. He didn't think the image would ever go away; it was burned into his vision. He couldn't stop imagining Ohno trapped within the crumbling walls, smoke everywhere, so thick it burned like the fire itself.
Jun turned, hand finally falling away from Sho's shoulder, making to leave- and Sho reached out to grab the other man's arm without really thinking. It could have been any of them, could have been any building Mendoza chose to gut. Sho's fingers closed unconsciously 'round Matsumoto's wrist, tight- like if he held on, he could stave off the thoughts churning through his head.
"Jun-" it was all he could get out around his swollen tongue. The other man stopped and turned back, and when he sat down on the side of the mattress beside Sho, they were so close Sho could feel Jun's breath on his face. There was a very, very long moment when Sho forgot to breathe- but not to think. His thoughts were whirling so fast he couldn't pick out a single one, couldn't make sense of the haze. It could have been any of them, Mendoza was still out there, Rapid Springs was still targeted, Jun was sitting so close, so warm, the tightening in his stomach, Nino's hands working their way up his pant leg-
Sho gasped, wrenching his gaze away from Jun's to stare at his soot-covered hands in his lap.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
Jun sighed a little, letting his forehead fall against Sho's temple, one hand grasping Sho's shoulder. His fingers dug a little deep- a little needy, like he wanted more than Sho could give him.
"Don't be," he said.
"I don't-" and he didn't, didn't even know what he wanted to say, how to vocalize it.
"You don't have to," was the response, murmured against the collar of his pajama shirt.
Sho sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Mendoza," he said, finding more comfortable ground. "He might still be out there. Maybe he's figurin' to hit us again while we're down."
"Then I'll keep watch."
The lump was back again, painful to swallow around. "But- I'm-"
"Exhausted," Jun said, in a tone that left no room for argument. "And going to sleep."
Sho was pushed back against the pillow, and he squeezed his eyes shut- if he just tried hard enough, maybe he could turn his brain off.
"Should be me," he mumbled, and warm fingers brushed hair away from his forehead, lingering slightly against his temples. The fingertips left, and he reached, grabbing to tangle his own hand in them. "Should be me."
There was a chaste kiss against his knuckles. "Will be. Later."
Exhaustion was a powerful motivator. He was asleep before Jun's footsteps even left the bedroom.
-----
He did what he could, but there really wasn't much left- Thompson had cleaned up what could be cleaned from the street, and the rest was going to have to wait until morning no matter what. All the swinging lanterns in town wouldn't be enough light to properly sift through the debris of the dry goods store and find what was salvageable. Jun didn't think much was, but they needed to hold onto whatever optimism they could at that point. He patted Thompson on the shoulder and told him to go back home, and spent a few minutes staring across the ruined building like he could bring it back with just his thoughts.
By the time he got back into the station, Ninomiya was stirring in the cell. Jun wasn't entirely sure what made him pause outside the bars- part of him wanting so badly just to kick the saloon owner's ass into the next province for what he'd pulled. Maybe he would. Maybe is what he told himself as his fingers gripped the iron tightly, watching the man come to with a groan of pain.
It took a moment, but Nino's eyes swept across Jun's position outside the cell as he put a hand to his head.
"Sonofa bitch," the other man hissed.
"Lookin' at one," Jun shot back. His knuckles were white from the tension in his grip.
"Let me out," Nino demanded, shakily rising from the bed. He was unsteady on his feet- still woozy. Jun had hit him hard, and he didn't entirely regret it. "I'm going after that fucker right now."
"Like hell you are," Jun laughed. "You gonna do it from in here?"
"Fuck you," Nino seethed, launching himself at the bars directly across from Jun's face. It was loud, and his hands hit the iron with a bang, and Jun glanced over at the door- sheriff was sleeping, and he didn't want to wake him up. Not for this- not for a spitting match between the two of them.
When he turned his gaze back to the cell, Nino was livid, inches away from him. "Let me out."
"You think I'm gonna do anything for you?" Jun snapped, trying to keep his tone low enough that it wouldn't travel 'cross the bedroom threshold. "You ain't in a position to make demands, Ninomiya. You had your fun, and it's over."
Nino let out a bark of a laugh. With his head thrown back, he looked eerily like a coyote loose on the dunes.
"Fun?" he repeated. "You think that was fun?"
"I don't know what it was to you," Jun said. "But you crossed the line."
"You two don't know where the line is," Nino hissed, leaning in closer. Their noses were almost touching through the bars, and Jun wasn't entirely sure what was keeping him from clocking the other man again. He kept his fingers where they were, curled around the iron separating them.
There was a moment of silence, so pronounced Jun swore he could taste the animosity bubbling between them.
"Want me to do it again, do you?" the saloon owner laughed. "Want my hand on your cock again?"
Jun reached in, grabbing Nino's collar and hauling him roughly against the bars. His forehead hit the iron, and it didn't stop his laughter. Jun's muscles were shaking from restrained rage.
"Shut the fuck up," he spat. "You're done here."
"He was my best friend," Nino cried- not loud enough, hopefully, to wake the sleeping figure in the next room. "He was my best friend and I'm gonna kill the sonofa bitch who did this. Let me out, and I'm out of your hair."
Jun let go abruptly, and Ninomiya reeled back somewhat, tripping a bit and losing his handle on the bars. Jun's heart was pounding in his chest- but the image of Ohno's slow, gentle smile was stuck in the forefront of his mind's eye. The man hadn't deserved what happened, 'specially not the way it went down. Jun could admit that, and he knew the two had been close. Wasn't fair, but life seldom was.
"You fixin' to die?" he asked.
"What's it to you?" came the waspish reply.
"Your death won't mean nothing," Jun said, shaking his head. "Won't bring him back."
Nino kicked at the bars, and the sound rang through the room. His eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot- half-crazed in the moonlight streaming in through the small, barred window on the far wall. It was more than Jun had seen from the man since he's screamed himself hoarse while firing his gun into the blacksmith's shop. Maybe that was why Jun's chest tightened a bit.
"Does it matter?" he spat. "Your death won't bring her back, either."
The words felt like a kick to the gut, and Jun struggled to keep his breathing in check.
"Well?" Nino demanded, against the bars once again. "It's true, ain't it? And you still wanna die anyway."
Jun met his gaze, glowering, wholly unable to refute the statement. After a long moment, he stepped in once more.
"That's it, then?" he asked, quieter. "You just gonna run out like a madman on a hunt?"
"Let me out," Nino growled. "Let me out and I'm gone."
Another pause, and then Jun reached for the keys hanging on a nail just inside the front door, between two boards in the wall. He didn't know exactly why his hands were moving of their own accord, but he didn't question it- his gut was telling him to do it, and he was apt to listen to that, at least. He unhooked the door, glancing up at the saloon owner again as he pulled the bars open.
"Go," he said. Even to his own ears, his tone sounded weary. "Go, then, and get on with it."
Nino glared at him, and then brushed past his shoulder without another word. Jun stood for a long time outside the empty cell, trying to figure out what was going on in his own head.
-----
“So when are your builders coming out?”
He was startled by the voice behind him. Nino turned on the heel of his boot to see the man from across the way, Ohno. It had only been a week or so since he’d arrived. A week of camping out on the floor of the pastor’s living room. But soon enough, he’d have a fine saloon.
“They’ll be here within the next few days. Guess they’re coming from Santa Fe.”
Ohno nodded, squinting in the sunlight to the empty ground across from his store. “And your lady friend?”
He laughed, wiping some sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “Oh, she won’t be here until it’s done. I don’t think she’s so willing to rough it out here.”
“Smart girl.”
It had cost him his entire savings, plus the money he’d gotten from the sale of his parents’ home in St. Louis. Pneumonia had taken them both last winter, and he hadn’t felt like sticking around with those bad memories. She’d gotten him through so much - he owed it to her to build them a fine home and business.
He continued to look at the empty patch of land, imagining a fine inn with himself behind the bar and his girl in the kitchen. He could already imagine their children running around, knocking things over and a saloon full of happy customers. It was going to be a fine life, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
Ohno set a hand down on his shoulder. “Why don’t you come out of the heat? I’ve got some bread baking. I want you to tell me about this girl, and don’t spare any details. We don’t have too many pretty ones out here.”
Nino laughed, accepting the invitation gladly. If all the people in Rapid Springs were as kind as Satoshi Ohno, then she was going to love it.
His head was ready to pop off it hurt so much as he made his way to Aiba’s. If Matsumoto could abscond with a horse to go off on some angsty quest, then Nino could surely borrow himself one too. The deputy would be home sooner or later. The horse could find its way back. Maybe.
He saddled up, fumbling in the darkened stable for supplies. He’d already managed to grab his shotgun from the saloon without waking the girls. It had taken every bit of concentration to not go digging through the charred remains of the bakery, knowing that someone would hear him. And he couldn’t bear it if he found…
Nino shook his head, mounting the horse quickly. It was almost a day’s ride to the encampment outside of the town where Mendoza and the boys held court. They were usually scattered over a few hundred miles, but this camp was where Sandburg and the others stored their loot. If Mendoza was anywhere, he’d be at this place. The man who claimed Aztec lineage still slept in a tent like a common thief hiding from the law.
He still ached from Jun’s knock out blow, but they’d reached enough of an understanding that he was free and running now. The sheriff was going to be none too pleased but a trip to Mendoza’s hideout was a one way trip. He wouldn’t be troubling Rapid Springs no more, he was pretty damn sure about that.
The shotgun bounced against his back as he rode north out of town. He’d avenge what they did to Ohno. He hadn’t been able to kill Jun for what happened to his girl, but he’d be damned if he let Mendoza get away with this. All the weeks they’d gotten along, had a tenuous understanding, and the man had given Nino nothing but grief - all over a fucking card game.
He gave the horse a kick, tightening his grip on the reins. “Hurry up.”
The temptation to just smash his head against the new, smooth gravestone was hard to ignore. He traced her name with his finger, surprised someone in town had managed to do a decent enough job chipping it into the stone.
It had already been a week, and try as he had to drink himself to death, he hadn’t manage to follow her into the grave. No, he had to stay alive. He had to stay in this shitty town and eke out a lonely existence because apparently it just wasn’t his time to die. No matter how many times he’d put the shotgun in his mouth the past few days, he’d been too much of a coward to go ahead and pull.
He tensed at the hand on his shoulder but relaxed upon realizing it was just Ohno. “You still out here?”
“Yep,” he said, wiping his eyes a bit and patting the top of the grave marker. “Yep, still out here.”
The other man was silent as usual and stood behind him for the better part of an hour while he stared at her name, the birth date. The death date. Nino didn’t budge, and neither did Ohno. Finally, the sun was beating down on him too hard to bear any longer. His scalp was burnt and any bit of exposed skin would be red and puckered before too long.
“Should have let her rest under a tree,” Nino remarked, and Ohno helped him to his feet without being asked. He seemed to know when Nino was ready to head back to the saloon for the day.
“Think it’s better in the sunlight,” Ohno replied quietly, holding him around the shoulder as they left the churchyard. “Just the way you talked about her. Think she should stay in the sun.”
He could only nod as Ohno brought him back inside. There was a plate full of food waiting on his table, now cold. But there was fresh bread and water and enough stew to feed ten men. He’d have probably starved if it hadn’t have been for the baker’s persistence this past week.
“Too much food,” he grumbled, sitting down and deciding where to start. For all that his life was meaningless and food seemed even more so, there was no way to turn down Ohno’s kindness.
“Always make too much for myself,” his friend lied. All Nino could do was lift the fork to his mouth and chew while his friend kept watch.
The shotgun hit his back in a continuous rhythm. Each shot would kill one of Mendoza’s boys before they took him down. But not one of those shots would bring his friend back. He blinked, struggling enough in the darkness to see where he was going. He was a fine target for anything out here in the desert, but he’d go through hell and back.
This would be his last ride, and he wasn’t going to stop for anything.
-----
He needed a bath. Sho figured someone could smell the stink on him halfway to Nebraska. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he sat up with a sigh, hearing cracks in his back. There was a lot to do. A whole lot to do.
There was already the slightest pink of sunrise peeking through the tiny window in the corner of his room. Aiba would be back with the women and children that morning if he’d taken the quickest route back from Clearwater. Sho moved to his washbasin, pouring some day-old water from his pitcher in. He stripped the filthy pajamas from his person, trying to think of how he’d explain what happened to the returning families. As he moved the washcloth over his face, he wondered how he could convince anyone that Rapid Springs was safe.
He could just tell Aiba to turn right back around, but if he did, Sho knew that the menfolk would up and leave with them, and there’d be no more Rapid Springs at all. But the food shop had just burnt down, the only place with extra sacks of sugar and flour, with any sundry items to keep the town afloat in case the regular shipments couldn’t make it. He’d failed to protect the town, and now there was a chance that the children would go hungry. And it was all his fault.
He shoved the cloth back into the water, wringing out the filthy material. It would be nice to use the nice oaken tub in Ohno’s place, but it was gone, he remembered. It was all gone. Sho pulled open his drawers, finding some of the only remaining clothes that didn’t have blood stains or dirt caked in them. He was just buttoning up his shirt when he walked into the other room to find the cell empty.
Sho stood there for a few full intakes of breath, trying to process what it looked like. He saw Jun in his chair at the desk, leaning back against the wall in an uncomfortable position. The cell door was still ajar, and there was no sign of Ninomiya. He walked over, knowing he’d have a bullet between the eyes if he startled Jun with a shake to the shoulder.
“Matsumoto,” he mumbled, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “Get up.”
Jun’s eyes fluttered open, almost pretty-like, and Sho had to keep focused as the other man emerged from his slumber. As the other man seemed to remember his surroundings, he leaned forward, taking his boots from the top of Sho’s desk and setting his feet on the floor. “Sho, I can explain.”
His fears were confirmed, and he could only look away from Jun’s still sleepy face to keep from breaking it. Sho walked with purpose, swinging the jail cell door on its creaky hinges. “You sprung him?”
“I said I can explain to you...”
Sho kicked at the iron bars, regretting it immediately since he hadn’t put on his boots yet. His foot stung something awful, but he was so angry that he didn’t much care. “You sprung that sniveling little demon?”
“Sheriff, Ohno was his best friend.”
He turned on Jun, eyes narrowing. “I don’t care if Ohno was his daddy. You did this and you didn’t tell me.”
The other man was on his feet now, coming close with measured steps. “No, I didn’t tell you.”
No matter what Sho did, a troublemaking gunslinger was the one who kept calling the shots in this town, and for all that Sho had all sorts of sinful thoughts about him, Jun was undermining his authority. Had from day one, and Sho had let his clouded mind and the other man’s caressing hands keep him from realizing it.
“You waited til I was asleep and you did as you pleased.”
Jun shook his head. “That’s not it, damn it. Would you listen to yourself? Can you stand there in your stocking feet and tell me that if it was your best friend killed in a fire that you wouldn’t stop at nothing to kill the men who did it to him?”
“I think we’ll never see eye to eye on what constitutes justice.” He shoved his way past Jun hard, ignoring the warmth of the man’s body as he pushed him aside. Sho grabbed for his mud-caked boots, sitting down on the bed to put them on.
Jun leaned against the doorway. “He’s got nothing left.”
“Oh, spare me. Lord Jesus, spare me from this bullshit.” He pulled one boot on. Sho could only see red, glaring at Jun. “You hate that bastard as much as I do. For manipulating and pulling the wool over our eyes. And now you’re such good fucking buddies that you just let him go walking out of my custody?”
The other man raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you mad about again?”
Sho pulled the other boot on and stood, stomping to the doorway. The townspeople would be returning, wondering what the hell had happened. Not only were some of them dead from the gunfight but now Ohno and his store were gone. “Don’t you even turn this. You’re no better than he is if you try to pin this on me. How’d he sweet talk you into letting him out, Jun? He give you a free yank or two again?”
Jun looked ready to spit at him. “You watch yourself.”
He grabbed Jun by the collar of his shirt. “You don’t care who it is, do you? You don’t care if it’s me or Ninomiya or some whore, so long as you get yours, is that it?”
“Sheriff, I said watch yourself.”
He was close enough to feel Jun’s hot breath, harsh after sleeping. “He played me. Lord knows he played me, but I’m not so sure that it was such a hardship for you.”
Jun stopped leaning, standing at his full height and eyes just as deadly serious. “You know he ain’t coming back from this. Man’s gotta take care of his own business. You’re just sore I did your job for you. Again. Don’t make this about something it’s not.”
Fuck him. This was what happened to men out here. They did whatever was most convenient, and if that meant flaunting their power over the law and over justice and the common good, then so be it. But Sho was sick and tired of being played like a fiddle.
He gave Jun another shove, hard enough to send the man back against the wall. “You think by letting him go try and kill Mendoza that he’ll forgive you for letting his girl get killed? That the bargain you struck with him?”
Jun shoved back, and Sho nearly toppled backwards onto his own floor. “Don’t say nothing you can’t follow up, Sakurai.” Jun pushed one more time, and this time Sho did fall, backside hitting the floor with a sickening thud. “Calm down and do your fucking job. You should be rustling up some food for the townsfolk you still got alive!”
He staggered to his feet, and Jun barely dodged the fist coming to his face. Sho felt like all the fingers in his hand were going to break. “Shut up!” He’d drawn the first blood, and Jun could have punched right back. But he didn’t. Instead he just looked annoyed.
Sho watched Jun wipe the blood from his nose with his shirt, the fabric lifting briefly to expose the tanned skin of his stomach. Sho’s anger and desire were waging a war in his mind, and he didn’t know what to do or say.
“I’m done being your nursemaid, Sakurai. Either you understand my way of living or you don’t. But I don’t need to stand here and listen to you talk about things you have no business mentioning.” Sho’s pulse was racing, his lungs screaming. Jun said he wouldn’t leave. He said he’d stay. But had he just gone and run him off? Because of his stupid god damned pride?
He looked at the floor. “Jun...”
“I’m going to check the fire. And then I’m taking a horse and heading after Ninomiya.”
Sho listened to Jun leave, closing his eyes and wondering what the hell he was going to do now.
------
Jun tried to keep his thoughts on anything else as he adjusted the cinch of his mare's saddle, leather sliding between weathered fingertips. He buckled the latigo and checked it for tautness, sighing to himself as he patted his mount's rump. She snorted, stamping her hooves against the dirt while looking back at him.
"Gotta ride hard," he told her, palm moving to pat the crest of her neck. Ninomiya had hours of a head start in front of him, and he'd have to make up time to catch the barkeep. His chest was constricted with the tightness that came from discomfort between men- and his nose still ached where Sakurai's fist had caught- but he tried to think only of the ride ahead of him, 'cross the dunes. He knew where Mendoza's usual hide-out was, and the Sandburg Boys couldn't be all too far since they'd been back recently to light Rapid Springs' goods store during the night. He knew the sands- maybe he had the advantage over the saloon owner there.
His mare shook her head, mane flopping to either side, and Jun reached for the bit to adjust the bridle. Just as he was moving to grab the reins and untie her from the hitching post, there was a shout behind him. For a moment, his breathing hitched- he was sure it was Mendoza, riding in for a mid-morning bloodbath, and his fingers itched towards his holsters unconsciously.
Another shout- and he could see the approaching figures through the dust kicked up by the horses' hooves.
Aiba stopped near the center of town and dismounted, hand tangling in the reins.
"You're early," Jun commented, but he was glad to see the deputy; at least something had gone right, in the whole damn scheme of things. The women- and Pastor White- were coming up behind the deputy in thundering herd of hooves and shouts. Rapid Springs' men gathered 'round, eager to greet their families after the absence, and Jun couldn't bite back the sting of regret. They'd lost two in the gun-fight against Mendoza's boys- how many more would they have to give up to his whims?
He was afraid to count Ninomiya as one of them. Well, if the saloon owner was one, then he was, too; he'd end up riding straight into gunfire going after the man, and he knew that preparing to depart. Wasn't like he had much else to stay for, given everything- just bloody noses and underhanded arguments. He was better off without it, the whole lot of it.
"Ain't early," Aiba sighed, clicking his tongue. "We- what the hell happened?"
Jun followed his gaze to the burnt shell of the dry goods store, looking like a streak of black against the beige expanse behind it.
"Mendoza," he answered, darkly.
"The supplies?" the blacksmith gaped. There was a whinny from one of the horses, and a stamping of impatient hooves; boots hit the ground as another figured dismounted, staring up at the blackened debris with oddly wide eyes.
Jun did a double-take, heart stopping.
"Ohno?"
"Wow," the baker said, scratching the back of his neck as he took in the shell of what was left of his store- his oven, his wares, the storeroom with sacks of salt and flour, even the packs of ammunition. Jun's heart was pounding in his chest like the thundering of the hooves had been against the ground, and he stepped forward just to make sure.
"I- you ain't dead," he said, in bewilderment.
"Should I be?" Ohno asked. Even in the face of the ruin, he was oddly unphased. Jun's mare was restless, stamping the dirt, and he reached unconsciously to grab her mane, tangling his fingers in the gritty hair to still her movements.
"We thought you were in there," Jun admitted. "We thought you got buried with the building. You- you ain't been here the whole time?"
It was Aiba who stepped forward then, hands on his hips. "I asked him to come with me."
There was a long pause, and Jun's heart dropped down to his belly.
"Shit," he hissed, and whirled to finish adjusting the mare's halter.
"What?" Aiba asked. There were murmurs behind him- dissent growing in the crowd. They all knew the food stores were gone, and Sheriff Sakurai would have a riot on his hands 'fore too long. Rapid Springs couldn't survive without wares, and the only wares within 10 miles was Ohno's shop. It was the death knell Mendoza had planned for it to be, but Jun couldn't concern himself with the welfare of the local folk. Sho had made it abundantly clear whose jurisdiction was trump, and he'd spat in Jun's face rather than see the gunslinger's help. That was his grave, then, and Jun wouldn't help him dig it any longer.
"Ninomiya," Jun mumbled, so that the rest wouldn't hear- they probably weren't listening anyway, overcome with panic about the food shortage. "Thought Ohno was dead and went off on a suicide mission towards the 'Burg Boys."
"Nino did?" Ohno asked, and for the first time since returning to Rapid Springs, he looked genuinely worried.
"Dammit," Jun groaned, when he couldn't get the cinch hooks to latch up. "I gotta catch him before he kills himself."
The commotion grew behind him, and Jun would have ignored it save for the fact that the sheriff's voice was drifting towards him. He was surrounded by people, clamoring and hollering and gesturing wildly towards the debris of the dry goods store.
"Now what?" they were screaming, pushing and shoving in their attempts to get over one another. "We're gonna die here without supplies!"
"Better help your sheriff, deputy," Jun said darkly, over his shoulder.
"You leavin'?" Aiba asked, and for a man who so rarely got upset, he sounded on the verge of anger.
Jun grabbed for the mare's reins, disentangling them from the post and clicking his tongue 'gainst his teeth to lead her backwards.
"Can't leave," Aiba said. "You can't leave now, Matsumoto!"
"Watch me," Jun mumbled through clenched teeth. "Ain't my problem anymore."
There were shouts now, and it was obvious the sheriff couldn't keep the crowd in line. He was trying, hands in the air, trying to get his voice to carry over the din, but it was a losing battle from every direction and Jun knew it, even if Sho didn't. Rapid Springs was on edge, and the fire was just the last straw she could take before full-on panic set in. Ain't nothin' gonna stop her from flying off the handle now.
It wasn't his problem- that much had been made abundantly clear.
"He's just gonna come back again an' again!" one of the men was yelling.
"What you gonna do, sheriff?" came the next outcry. "How you gonna solve this now?"
Jun glanced over and found Sho staring back at him. Sakurai's expression was full of too much for Jun to decipher, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, anyway. One of the women was tugging on his arm, crying audibly.
"I'll go," Sho said, suddenly, and the knots in Jun's stomach increased ten-fold. "We'll go after Mendoza."
"We?" came the question. And Sho didn't drop his gaze, meeting Jun's eyes with fire mirroring what had propelled his fist earlier.
"We'll take care of Mendoza," the sheriff repeated. He pushed through the crowd and put a hand on Aiba's shoulder, an unspoken signal. The blacksmith let go of his mare's reins, pushing them into Sho's palm. Jun chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head.
"I ain't going after Mendoza, sheriff," he spat. "I'm going after Ninomiya."
"Hits the same end, don't it?" Sho shot back, stepping into the stirrup and mounting Aiba's mare. She whinnied, throwing her mane a bit as his spurs hit her flanks. "We're heading in the same direction."
"This your plan, then?" Jun asked, barely swallowing back his ire. "You gonna use both of us to take care of what you should be doin'?"
Sho's mount snorted when he pulled back hard on the reins, bit clicking against teeth. "You think you know what I want, Matsumoto?"
"I don't think you know what you want," Jun hissed. He was sick and tired of all of it- Sho's indecision, his pride-fueled lashings. Jun didn't need it. His own mind gave him enough guilt to deal with as it was. Didn't matter how much he itched to run his hands through the sheriff's hair, to get him flat against the mattress and groaning beneath him. He'd hit his limit. Why couldn't the man just let him leave?
"Know I want to do my job," Sho said, each word more forceful than the last. He kicked at the mount's sides again, and she reared up.
"Hey," Ohno said. He stepped forward, hand on Jun's shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Jun would have shrugged the touch off, but Ohno's fingers felt calming rather than damning. "He ain't a bad guy, alright?"
For a moment, Jun thought he was talking about the sheriff. It took a second for his mind to catch up to who Ohno was really concerned about.
"I'll get him," Jun said, grabbing for his own horse's reins. "I'll get him back."
And he was amazed at how much he actually meant the words. He pushed aside everything else- at the moment, he knew all he needed to 'bout Ninomiya. He was willing to die for his friend's memory, and that was enough. Ignoring everything else, it was enough. Ohno deserved that much; the baker had never been anything but kind to Jun.
"Let's go," Sakurai commanded, and Jun leveled him a glower as he swung his weight up into the saddle.
Chapter: 7/13
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): implied Jun --> Sho, Sho --> Jun
Rating: R
Warnings: Back to heavy language use and violence this chapter.
Summary: A saloon owner with an enigmatic past, an idealistic sheriff, a remorseful shotgun messenger, and the town that unites them.
By the time the last embers of the damn fire had finally stopped glowing red in the darkness, Sho's shoulders were screaming in misery. His entire body felt like he'd been trampled by a stampede; the adrenaline was finally abating, and the repercussions of their frenzied activity was taking hold, making every muscle throb in exhaustion. His head hurt something awful, and there were spots at the edges of his vision as he glared down at the ruined debris that used to be the dry goods store.
He hadn't seen it coming- dammit, he hadn't seen it coming. And he'd been so wrapped up in Nino's underhanded manipulations and Jun's return and the ridiculous tension between them that he hadn't thought about Mendoza coming back with a swift kick where it hurt the most. They were supply-less, perched on the edge of an expanse of desert, and their deputy was due back in days with the womenfolk. Shit- he couldn't figure his next move, 'specially not staring down at the ash-strewn building they'd spent hours trying to save.
'Cross the debris, Thompson was kicking at the remains with the toe of his boot, and then there was a hand on Sho's shoulder, fingers curling 'round and squeezing.
"Nothing more we can do, sheriff." Didn't matter that Jun was voicing the same thing screaming through Sho's head- still hurt to hear. Still made his blood boil and bubble in rage that Mendoza had struck so low, so dirty. He could still hear Ninomiya's screams in his ear, like the man was still standing next to him, hands balled and throat hoarse. Dammit all. He hadn't wanted to lose any more of Rapid Springs' men to the Sandburg Boys, least of all not one he'd been friendly with.
The hand on his shoulder moved up to the back of his neck, tangling in the grimy hair there- every part of him was covered in soot, ash, and sweat. He leaned back unconsciously into the touch; with Jun, every bit of pressure from his fingertips was deliberate. Sho ignored the rapid increase of his heart in his chest.
"Yeah," was all he managed to choke out. "I know."
Jun started leading him away, pressure on his back in the direction opposite the ruined structure- back towards the sheriff's station. It almost felt like desertion leaving the scene, and it didn't matter that there was nothing left; Sho had been put in charge of keeping Rapid Springs safe, and he'd failed her just when she needed him the most. It clogged his throat, choking him like the overbearing summer heat.
"Wait," he mumbled, half-stumbling over part of the roof that had fallen free and landed on the main drag.
"Nothing more to do here," Jun repeated, and the pressure on Sho's shoulders increased just a bit- even if he hadn't been exhausted, he probably wouldn't have fought against it. He let the gunslinger lead him back towards the station, swallowing down rising bile of shame and defeat. Ohno deserved at least a Christian burial, and all they could give him was the smoldering ashes of the bakery he'd so loved. Didn't seem right- didn't seem right at all, and it clouded all of Sho's already muddled thoughts.
"Should've done something," he murmured, as he stepped back in through the station's front door.
"What?" Jun asked.
"Don't know," Sho replied. "Just- something."
Ninomiya was still out cold, silent in the cell, body draped across the mattress like a limp doll. Seeing his prostrate form only made the lump in Sho's throat swell further, but at least they moved past the bars without stopping. Jun pushed him gently into the bedroom.
"Ain't no use worrying 'bout it tonight," he said, as Sho collapsed onto the bed and let his head fall in his hands. He could still see the flames, brighter than the moon in the sky. He didn't think the image would ever go away; it was burned into his vision. He couldn't stop imagining Ohno trapped within the crumbling walls, smoke everywhere, so thick it burned like the fire itself.
Jun turned, hand finally falling away from Sho's shoulder, making to leave- and Sho reached out to grab the other man's arm without really thinking. It could have been any of them, could have been any building Mendoza chose to gut. Sho's fingers closed unconsciously 'round Matsumoto's wrist, tight- like if he held on, he could stave off the thoughts churning through his head.
"Jun-" it was all he could get out around his swollen tongue. The other man stopped and turned back, and when he sat down on the side of the mattress beside Sho, they were so close Sho could feel Jun's breath on his face. There was a very, very long moment when Sho forgot to breathe- but not to think. His thoughts were whirling so fast he couldn't pick out a single one, couldn't make sense of the haze. It could have been any of them, Mendoza was still out there, Rapid Springs was still targeted, Jun was sitting so close, so warm, the tightening in his stomach, Nino's hands working their way up his pant leg-
Sho gasped, wrenching his gaze away from Jun's to stare at his soot-covered hands in his lap.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
Jun sighed a little, letting his forehead fall against Sho's temple, one hand grasping Sho's shoulder. His fingers dug a little deep- a little needy, like he wanted more than Sho could give him.
"Don't be," he said.
"I don't-" and he didn't, didn't even know what he wanted to say, how to vocalize it.
"You don't have to," was the response, murmured against the collar of his pajama shirt.
Sho sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Mendoza," he said, finding more comfortable ground. "He might still be out there. Maybe he's figurin' to hit us again while we're down."
"Then I'll keep watch."
The lump was back again, painful to swallow around. "But- I'm-"
"Exhausted," Jun said, in a tone that left no room for argument. "And going to sleep."
Sho was pushed back against the pillow, and he squeezed his eyes shut- if he just tried hard enough, maybe he could turn his brain off.
"Should be me," he mumbled, and warm fingers brushed hair away from his forehead, lingering slightly against his temples. The fingertips left, and he reached, grabbing to tangle his own hand in them. "Should be me."
There was a chaste kiss against his knuckles. "Will be. Later."
Exhaustion was a powerful motivator. He was asleep before Jun's footsteps even left the bedroom.
-----
He did what he could, but there really wasn't much left- Thompson had cleaned up what could be cleaned from the street, and the rest was going to have to wait until morning no matter what. All the swinging lanterns in town wouldn't be enough light to properly sift through the debris of the dry goods store and find what was salvageable. Jun didn't think much was, but they needed to hold onto whatever optimism they could at that point. He patted Thompson on the shoulder and told him to go back home, and spent a few minutes staring across the ruined building like he could bring it back with just his thoughts.
By the time he got back into the station, Ninomiya was stirring in the cell. Jun wasn't entirely sure what made him pause outside the bars- part of him wanting so badly just to kick the saloon owner's ass into the next province for what he'd pulled. Maybe he would. Maybe is what he told himself as his fingers gripped the iron tightly, watching the man come to with a groan of pain.
It took a moment, but Nino's eyes swept across Jun's position outside the cell as he put a hand to his head.
"Sonofa bitch," the other man hissed.
"Lookin' at one," Jun shot back. His knuckles were white from the tension in his grip.
"Let me out," Nino demanded, shakily rising from the bed. He was unsteady on his feet- still woozy. Jun had hit him hard, and he didn't entirely regret it. "I'm going after that fucker right now."
"Like hell you are," Jun laughed. "You gonna do it from in here?"
"Fuck you," Nino seethed, launching himself at the bars directly across from Jun's face. It was loud, and his hands hit the iron with a bang, and Jun glanced over at the door- sheriff was sleeping, and he didn't want to wake him up. Not for this- not for a spitting match between the two of them.
When he turned his gaze back to the cell, Nino was livid, inches away from him. "Let me out."
"You think I'm gonna do anything for you?" Jun snapped, trying to keep his tone low enough that it wouldn't travel 'cross the bedroom threshold. "You ain't in a position to make demands, Ninomiya. You had your fun, and it's over."
Nino let out a bark of a laugh. With his head thrown back, he looked eerily like a coyote loose on the dunes.
"Fun?" he repeated. "You think that was fun?"
"I don't know what it was to you," Jun said. "But you crossed the line."
"You two don't know where the line is," Nino hissed, leaning in closer. Their noses were almost touching through the bars, and Jun wasn't entirely sure what was keeping him from clocking the other man again. He kept his fingers where they were, curled around the iron separating them.
There was a moment of silence, so pronounced Jun swore he could taste the animosity bubbling between them.
"Want me to do it again, do you?" the saloon owner laughed. "Want my hand on your cock again?"
Jun reached in, grabbing Nino's collar and hauling him roughly against the bars. His forehead hit the iron, and it didn't stop his laughter. Jun's muscles were shaking from restrained rage.
"Shut the fuck up," he spat. "You're done here."
"He was my best friend," Nino cried- not loud enough, hopefully, to wake the sleeping figure in the next room. "He was my best friend and I'm gonna kill the sonofa bitch who did this. Let me out, and I'm out of your hair."
Jun let go abruptly, and Ninomiya reeled back somewhat, tripping a bit and losing his handle on the bars. Jun's heart was pounding in his chest- but the image of Ohno's slow, gentle smile was stuck in the forefront of his mind's eye. The man hadn't deserved what happened, 'specially not the way it went down. Jun could admit that, and he knew the two had been close. Wasn't fair, but life seldom was.
"You fixin' to die?" he asked.
"What's it to you?" came the waspish reply.
"Your death won't mean nothing," Jun said, shaking his head. "Won't bring him back."
Nino kicked at the bars, and the sound rang through the room. His eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot- half-crazed in the moonlight streaming in through the small, barred window on the far wall. It was more than Jun had seen from the man since he's screamed himself hoarse while firing his gun into the blacksmith's shop. Maybe that was why Jun's chest tightened a bit.
"Does it matter?" he spat. "Your death won't bring her back, either."
The words felt like a kick to the gut, and Jun struggled to keep his breathing in check.
"Well?" Nino demanded, against the bars once again. "It's true, ain't it? And you still wanna die anyway."
Jun met his gaze, glowering, wholly unable to refute the statement. After a long moment, he stepped in once more.
"That's it, then?" he asked, quieter. "You just gonna run out like a madman on a hunt?"
"Let me out," Nino growled. "Let me out and I'm gone."
Another pause, and then Jun reached for the keys hanging on a nail just inside the front door, between two boards in the wall. He didn't know exactly why his hands were moving of their own accord, but he didn't question it- his gut was telling him to do it, and he was apt to listen to that, at least. He unhooked the door, glancing up at the saloon owner again as he pulled the bars open.
"Go," he said. Even to his own ears, his tone sounded weary. "Go, then, and get on with it."
Nino glared at him, and then brushed past his shoulder without another word. Jun stood for a long time outside the empty cell, trying to figure out what was going on in his own head.
-----
“So when are your builders coming out?”
He was startled by the voice behind him. Nino turned on the heel of his boot to see the man from across the way, Ohno. It had only been a week or so since he’d arrived. A week of camping out on the floor of the pastor’s living room. But soon enough, he’d have a fine saloon.
“They’ll be here within the next few days. Guess they’re coming from Santa Fe.”
Ohno nodded, squinting in the sunlight to the empty ground across from his store. “And your lady friend?”
He laughed, wiping some sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “Oh, she won’t be here until it’s done. I don’t think she’s so willing to rough it out here.”
“Smart girl.”
It had cost him his entire savings, plus the money he’d gotten from the sale of his parents’ home in St. Louis. Pneumonia had taken them both last winter, and he hadn’t felt like sticking around with those bad memories. She’d gotten him through so much - he owed it to her to build them a fine home and business.
He continued to look at the empty patch of land, imagining a fine inn with himself behind the bar and his girl in the kitchen. He could already imagine their children running around, knocking things over and a saloon full of happy customers. It was going to be a fine life, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
Ohno set a hand down on his shoulder. “Why don’t you come out of the heat? I’ve got some bread baking. I want you to tell me about this girl, and don’t spare any details. We don’t have too many pretty ones out here.”
Nino laughed, accepting the invitation gladly. If all the people in Rapid Springs were as kind as Satoshi Ohno, then she was going to love it.
His head was ready to pop off it hurt so much as he made his way to Aiba’s. If Matsumoto could abscond with a horse to go off on some angsty quest, then Nino could surely borrow himself one too. The deputy would be home sooner or later. The horse could find its way back. Maybe.
He saddled up, fumbling in the darkened stable for supplies. He’d already managed to grab his shotgun from the saloon without waking the girls. It had taken every bit of concentration to not go digging through the charred remains of the bakery, knowing that someone would hear him. And he couldn’t bear it if he found…
Nino shook his head, mounting the horse quickly. It was almost a day’s ride to the encampment outside of the town where Mendoza and the boys held court. They were usually scattered over a few hundred miles, but this camp was where Sandburg and the others stored their loot. If Mendoza was anywhere, he’d be at this place. The man who claimed Aztec lineage still slept in a tent like a common thief hiding from the law.
He still ached from Jun’s knock out blow, but they’d reached enough of an understanding that he was free and running now. The sheriff was going to be none too pleased but a trip to Mendoza’s hideout was a one way trip. He wouldn’t be troubling Rapid Springs no more, he was pretty damn sure about that.
The shotgun bounced against his back as he rode north out of town. He’d avenge what they did to Ohno. He hadn’t been able to kill Jun for what happened to his girl, but he’d be damned if he let Mendoza get away with this. All the weeks they’d gotten along, had a tenuous understanding, and the man had given Nino nothing but grief - all over a fucking card game.
He gave the horse a kick, tightening his grip on the reins. “Hurry up.”
The temptation to just smash his head against the new, smooth gravestone was hard to ignore. He traced her name with his finger, surprised someone in town had managed to do a decent enough job chipping it into the stone.
It had already been a week, and try as he had to drink himself to death, he hadn’t manage to follow her into the grave. No, he had to stay alive. He had to stay in this shitty town and eke out a lonely existence because apparently it just wasn’t his time to die. No matter how many times he’d put the shotgun in his mouth the past few days, he’d been too much of a coward to go ahead and pull.
He tensed at the hand on his shoulder but relaxed upon realizing it was just Ohno. “You still out here?”
“Yep,” he said, wiping his eyes a bit and patting the top of the grave marker. “Yep, still out here.”
The other man was silent as usual and stood behind him for the better part of an hour while he stared at her name, the birth date. The death date. Nino didn’t budge, and neither did Ohno. Finally, the sun was beating down on him too hard to bear any longer. His scalp was burnt and any bit of exposed skin would be red and puckered before too long.
“Should have let her rest under a tree,” Nino remarked, and Ohno helped him to his feet without being asked. He seemed to know when Nino was ready to head back to the saloon for the day.
“Think it’s better in the sunlight,” Ohno replied quietly, holding him around the shoulder as they left the churchyard. “Just the way you talked about her. Think she should stay in the sun.”
He could only nod as Ohno brought him back inside. There was a plate full of food waiting on his table, now cold. But there was fresh bread and water and enough stew to feed ten men. He’d have probably starved if it hadn’t have been for the baker’s persistence this past week.
“Too much food,” he grumbled, sitting down and deciding where to start. For all that his life was meaningless and food seemed even more so, there was no way to turn down Ohno’s kindness.
“Always make too much for myself,” his friend lied. All Nino could do was lift the fork to his mouth and chew while his friend kept watch.
The shotgun hit his back in a continuous rhythm. Each shot would kill one of Mendoza’s boys before they took him down. But not one of those shots would bring his friend back. He blinked, struggling enough in the darkness to see where he was going. He was a fine target for anything out here in the desert, but he’d go through hell and back.
This would be his last ride, and he wasn’t going to stop for anything.
-----
He needed a bath. Sho figured someone could smell the stink on him halfway to Nebraska. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he sat up with a sigh, hearing cracks in his back. There was a lot to do. A whole lot to do.
There was already the slightest pink of sunrise peeking through the tiny window in the corner of his room. Aiba would be back with the women and children that morning if he’d taken the quickest route back from Clearwater. Sho moved to his washbasin, pouring some day-old water from his pitcher in. He stripped the filthy pajamas from his person, trying to think of how he’d explain what happened to the returning families. As he moved the washcloth over his face, he wondered how he could convince anyone that Rapid Springs was safe.
He could just tell Aiba to turn right back around, but if he did, Sho knew that the menfolk would up and leave with them, and there’d be no more Rapid Springs at all. But the food shop had just burnt down, the only place with extra sacks of sugar and flour, with any sundry items to keep the town afloat in case the regular shipments couldn’t make it. He’d failed to protect the town, and now there was a chance that the children would go hungry. And it was all his fault.
He shoved the cloth back into the water, wringing out the filthy material. It would be nice to use the nice oaken tub in Ohno’s place, but it was gone, he remembered. It was all gone. Sho pulled open his drawers, finding some of the only remaining clothes that didn’t have blood stains or dirt caked in them. He was just buttoning up his shirt when he walked into the other room to find the cell empty.
Sho stood there for a few full intakes of breath, trying to process what it looked like. He saw Jun in his chair at the desk, leaning back against the wall in an uncomfortable position. The cell door was still ajar, and there was no sign of Ninomiya. He walked over, knowing he’d have a bullet between the eyes if he startled Jun with a shake to the shoulder.
“Matsumoto,” he mumbled, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “Get up.”
Jun’s eyes fluttered open, almost pretty-like, and Sho had to keep focused as the other man emerged from his slumber. As the other man seemed to remember his surroundings, he leaned forward, taking his boots from the top of Sho’s desk and setting his feet on the floor. “Sho, I can explain.”
His fears were confirmed, and he could only look away from Jun’s still sleepy face to keep from breaking it. Sho walked with purpose, swinging the jail cell door on its creaky hinges. “You sprung him?”
“I said I can explain to you...”
Sho kicked at the iron bars, regretting it immediately since he hadn’t put on his boots yet. His foot stung something awful, but he was so angry that he didn’t much care. “You sprung that sniveling little demon?”
“Sheriff, Ohno was his best friend.”
He turned on Jun, eyes narrowing. “I don’t care if Ohno was his daddy. You did this and you didn’t tell me.”
The other man was on his feet now, coming close with measured steps. “No, I didn’t tell you.”
No matter what Sho did, a troublemaking gunslinger was the one who kept calling the shots in this town, and for all that Sho had all sorts of sinful thoughts about him, Jun was undermining his authority. Had from day one, and Sho had let his clouded mind and the other man’s caressing hands keep him from realizing it.
“You waited til I was asleep and you did as you pleased.”
Jun shook his head. “That’s not it, damn it. Would you listen to yourself? Can you stand there in your stocking feet and tell me that if it was your best friend killed in a fire that you wouldn’t stop at nothing to kill the men who did it to him?”
“I think we’ll never see eye to eye on what constitutes justice.” He shoved his way past Jun hard, ignoring the warmth of the man’s body as he pushed him aside. Sho grabbed for his mud-caked boots, sitting down on the bed to put them on.
Jun leaned against the doorway. “He’s got nothing left.”
“Oh, spare me. Lord Jesus, spare me from this bullshit.” He pulled one boot on. Sho could only see red, glaring at Jun. “You hate that bastard as much as I do. For manipulating and pulling the wool over our eyes. And now you’re such good fucking buddies that you just let him go walking out of my custody?”
The other man raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you mad about again?”
Sho pulled the other boot on and stood, stomping to the doorway. The townspeople would be returning, wondering what the hell had happened. Not only were some of them dead from the gunfight but now Ohno and his store were gone. “Don’t you even turn this. You’re no better than he is if you try to pin this on me. How’d he sweet talk you into letting him out, Jun? He give you a free yank or two again?”
Jun looked ready to spit at him. “You watch yourself.”
He grabbed Jun by the collar of his shirt. “You don’t care who it is, do you? You don’t care if it’s me or Ninomiya or some whore, so long as you get yours, is that it?”
“Sheriff, I said watch yourself.”
He was close enough to feel Jun’s hot breath, harsh after sleeping. “He played me. Lord knows he played me, but I’m not so sure that it was such a hardship for you.”
Jun stopped leaning, standing at his full height and eyes just as deadly serious. “You know he ain’t coming back from this. Man’s gotta take care of his own business. You’re just sore I did your job for you. Again. Don’t make this about something it’s not.”
Fuck him. This was what happened to men out here. They did whatever was most convenient, and if that meant flaunting their power over the law and over justice and the common good, then so be it. But Sho was sick and tired of being played like a fiddle.
He gave Jun another shove, hard enough to send the man back against the wall. “You think by letting him go try and kill Mendoza that he’ll forgive you for letting his girl get killed? That the bargain you struck with him?”
Jun shoved back, and Sho nearly toppled backwards onto his own floor. “Don’t say nothing you can’t follow up, Sakurai.” Jun pushed one more time, and this time Sho did fall, backside hitting the floor with a sickening thud. “Calm down and do your fucking job. You should be rustling up some food for the townsfolk you still got alive!”
He staggered to his feet, and Jun barely dodged the fist coming to his face. Sho felt like all the fingers in his hand were going to break. “Shut up!” He’d drawn the first blood, and Jun could have punched right back. But he didn’t. Instead he just looked annoyed.
Sho watched Jun wipe the blood from his nose with his shirt, the fabric lifting briefly to expose the tanned skin of his stomach. Sho’s anger and desire were waging a war in his mind, and he didn’t know what to do or say.
“I’m done being your nursemaid, Sakurai. Either you understand my way of living or you don’t. But I don’t need to stand here and listen to you talk about things you have no business mentioning.” Sho’s pulse was racing, his lungs screaming. Jun said he wouldn’t leave. He said he’d stay. But had he just gone and run him off? Because of his stupid god damned pride?
He looked at the floor. “Jun...”
“I’m going to check the fire. And then I’m taking a horse and heading after Ninomiya.”
Sho listened to Jun leave, closing his eyes and wondering what the hell he was going to do now.
------
Jun tried to keep his thoughts on anything else as he adjusted the cinch of his mare's saddle, leather sliding between weathered fingertips. He buckled the latigo and checked it for tautness, sighing to himself as he patted his mount's rump. She snorted, stamping her hooves against the dirt while looking back at him.
"Gotta ride hard," he told her, palm moving to pat the crest of her neck. Ninomiya had hours of a head start in front of him, and he'd have to make up time to catch the barkeep. His chest was constricted with the tightness that came from discomfort between men- and his nose still ached where Sakurai's fist had caught- but he tried to think only of the ride ahead of him, 'cross the dunes. He knew where Mendoza's usual hide-out was, and the Sandburg Boys couldn't be all too far since they'd been back recently to light Rapid Springs' goods store during the night. He knew the sands- maybe he had the advantage over the saloon owner there.
His mare shook her head, mane flopping to either side, and Jun reached for the bit to adjust the bridle. Just as he was moving to grab the reins and untie her from the hitching post, there was a shout behind him. For a moment, his breathing hitched- he was sure it was Mendoza, riding in for a mid-morning bloodbath, and his fingers itched towards his holsters unconsciously.
Another shout- and he could see the approaching figures through the dust kicked up by the horses' hooves.
Aiba stopped near the center of town and dismounted, hand tangling in the reins.
"You're early," Jun commented, but he was glad to see the deputy; at least something had gone right, in the whole damn scheme of things. The women- and Pastor White- were coming up behind the deputy in thundering herd of hooves and shouts. Rapid Springs' men gathered 'round, eager to greet their families after the absence, and Jun couldn't bite back the sting of regret. They'd lost two in the gun-fight against Mendoza's boys- how many more would they have to give up to his whims?
He was afraid to count Ninomiya as one of them. Well, if the saloon owner was one, then he was, too; he'd end up riding straight into gunfire going after the man, and he knew that preparing to depart. Wasn't like he had much else to stay for, given everything- just bloody noses and underhanded arguments. He was better off without it, the whole lot of it.
"Ain't early," Aiba sighed, clicking his tongue. "We- what the hell happened?"
Jun followed his gaze to the burnt shell of the dry goods store, looking like a streak of black against the beige expanse behind it.
"Mendoza," he answered, darkly.
"The supplies?" the blacksmith gaped. There was a whinny from one of the horses, and a stamping of impatient hooves; boots hit the ground as another figured dismounted, staring up at the blackened debris with oddly wide eyes.
Jun did a double-take, heart stopping.
"Ohno?"
"Wow," the baker said, scratching the back of his neck as he took in the shell of what was left of his store- his oven, his wares, the storeroom with sacks of salt and flour, even the packs of ammunition. Jun's heart was pounding in his chest like the thundering of the hooves had been against the ground, and he stepped forward just to make sure.
"I- you ain't dead," he said, in bewilderment.
"Should I be?" Ohno asked. Even in the face of the ruin, he was oddly unphased. Jun's mare was restless, stamping the dirt, and he reached unconsciously to grab her mane, tangling his fingers in the gritty hair to still her movements.
"We thought you were in there," Jun admitted. "We thought you got buried with the building. You- you ain't been here the whole time?"
It was Aiba who stepped forward then, hands on his hips. "I asked him to come with me."
There was a long pause, and Jun's heart dropped down to his belly.
"Shit," he hissed, and whirled to finish adjusting the mare's halter.
"What?" Aiba asked. There were murmurs behind him- dissent growing in the crowd. They all knew the food stores were gone, and Sheriff Sakurai would have a riot on his hands 'fore too long. Rapid Springs couldn't survive without wares, and the only wares within 10 miles was Ohno's shop. It was the death knell Mendoza had planned for it to be, but Jun couldn't concern himself with the welfare of the local folk. Sho had made it abundantly clear whose jurisdiction was trump, and he'd spat in Jun's face rather than see the gunslinger's help. That was his grave, then, and Jun wouldn't help him dig it any longer.
"Ninomiya," Jun mumbled, so that the rest wouldn't hear- they probably weren't listening anyway, overcome with panic about the food shortage. "Thought Ohno was dead and went off on a suicide mission towards the 'Burg Boys."
"Nino did?" Ohno asked, and for the first time since returning to Rapid Springs, he looked genuinely worried.
"Dammit," Jun groaned, when he couldn't get the cinch hooks to latch up. "I gotta catch him before he kills himself."
The commotion grew behind him, and Jun would have ignored it save for the fact that the sheriff's voice was drifting towards him. He was surrounded by people, clamoring and hollering and gesturing wildly towards the debris of the dry goods store.
"Now what?" they were screaming, pushing and shoving in their attempts to get over one another. "We're gonna die here without supplies!"
"Better help your sheriff, deputy," Jun said darkly, over his shoulder.
"You leavin'?" Aiba asked, and for a man who so rarely got upset, he sounded on the verge of anger.
Jun grabbed for the mare's reins, disentangling them from the post and clicking his tongue 'gainst his teeth to lead her backwards.
"Can't leave," Aiba said. "You can't leave now, Matsumoto!"
"Watch me," Jun mumbled through clenched teeth. "Ain't my problem anymore."
There were shouts now, and it was obvious the sheriff couldn't keep the crowd in line. He was trying, hands in the air, trying to get his voice to carry over the din, but it was a losing battle from every direction and Jun knew it, even if Sho didn't. Rapid Springs was on edge, and the fire was just the last straw she could take before full-on panic set in. Ain't nothin' gonna stop her from flying off the handle now.
It wasn't his problem- that much had been made abundantly clear.
"He's just gonna come back again an' again!" one of the men was yelling.
"What you gonna do, sheriff?" came the next outcry. "How you gonna solve this now?"
Jun glanced over and found Sho staring back at him. Sakurai's expression was full of too much for Jun to decipher, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, anyway. One of the women was tugging on his arm, crying audibly.
"I'll go," Sho said, suddenly, and the knots in Jun's stomach increased ten-fold. "We'll go after Mendoza."
"We?" came the question. And Sho didn't drop his gaze, meeting Jun's eyes with fire mirroring what had propelled his fist earlier.
"We'll take care of Mendoza," the sheriff repeated. He pushed through the crowd and put a hand on Aiba's shoulder, an unspoken signal. The blacksmith let go of his mare's reins, pushing them into Sho's palm. Jun chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head.
"I ain't going after Mendoza, sheriff," he spat. "I'm going after Ninomiya."
"Hits the same end, don't it?" Sho shot back, stepping into the stirrup and mounting Aiba's mare. She whinnied, throwing her mane a bit as his spurs hit her flanks. "We're heading in the same direction."
"This your plan, then?" Jun asked, barely swallowing back his ire. "You gonna use both of us to take care of what you should be doin'?"
Sho's mount snorted when he pulled back hard on the reins, bit clicking against teeth. "You think you know what I want, Matsumoto?"
"I don't think you know what you want," Jun hissed. He was sick and tired of all of it- Sho's indecision, his pride-fueled lashings. Jun didn't need it. His own mind gave him enough guilt to deal with as it was. Didn't matter how much he itched to run his hands through the sheriff's hair, to get him flat against the mattress and groaning beneath him. He'd hit his limit. Why couldn't the man just let him leave?
"Know I want to do my job," Sho said, each word more forceful than the last. He kicked at the mount's sides again, and she reared up.
"Hey," Ohno said. He stepped forward, hand on Jun's shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Jun would have shrugged the touch off, but Ohno's fingers felt calming rather than damning. "He ain't a bad guy, alright?"
For a moment, Jun thought he was talking about the sheriff. It took a second for his mind to catch up to who Ohno was really concerned about.
"I'll get him," Jun said, grabbing for his own horse's reins. "I'll get him back."
And he was amazed at how much he actually meant the words. He pushed aside everything else- at the moment, he knew all he needed to 'bout Ninomiya. He was willing to die for his friend's memory, and that was enough. Ignoring everything else, it was enough. Ohno deserved that much; the baker had never been anything but kind to Jun.
"Let's go," Sakurai commanded, and Jun leveled him a glower as he swung his weight up into the saddle.