Title: Between Love and Lies
Characters/Pairings: Masamune/Yukimura, implied Motochika/Motonari
Genre: Gen/Romance
Summary: All your life you live so close to the truth that it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye. / This time, it's Masamune who's lying flat on the ground. Spoilers up to 2x09.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sengoku Basara. Also, the quote "All your life you live so close to the truth that it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye" belong to Tom Stoppard.
Warning(s): Slash, excessive abuse of italics & parentheses, liberal interpretations of canon, and very weird stylistic choices. /is shot
A/N: 'Cause we can't let Yukimura's character growth & his UST with Masamune go to waste, haha. It's a weird balance between pre-slash and actual slash, and it somehow dragged Motochika & Motonari there too.

… that, and the ending is horrible. /slits wrists

When they meet again for the first time in months, Yukimura finds himself lying flat on the ground. To think that it would come to this … the thought is completely unbearable. Shame and regret overwhelms him completely. After all, the outcome is clear – he has been soundly defeated. If it wasn't for Masamune's momentary hesitation, Yukimura realizes, he would have been finished for sure. Whether the indecision came from gloating or pity, he will never know. Either way, neither is in character for the One-Eyed Dragon.

(Heh, you never change, do you?)

Yukimura tries not think about it too much.

(Every time we meet, we fight.)

Due to his fatigue, his memory after his defeat is blurry. Yukimura vaguely remembers a shower of arrows, a giant of a man, and an ominous, crushing feeling that feels uncomfortably like impending war. However, one thing stands out sharply in his hazed mind, even as he's being carried away from the battlefield – the cool disappointment in Masamune's eyes. The weight of his gaze is crushing. All Yukimura can think is, this can't end like this, anything but this.

(Let's get things a bit more flamboyant. When I beat you, old man Takeda and the God of War will be done too. It's not like I'll be interrupting them.)

He wonders if his rival feels the same. The hesitation had to mean something, right? Yukimura then remembers he isn't supposed to think about it and abruptly stops the thought.

(The winner is nothing but prey for this dragon! You see?)

Masamune's words echo, almost mockingly, in his mind. It's true that all they seem to do is fight, but it's the use of the word prey that bothers Yukimura the most; he can't help but wonder if he is simply prey as well. While he is certain that they both share a burning desire to fight one another, he wonders if their motives are different. Yukimura yearns to fight with such a passion that it sets his soul ablaze, and only Masamune can do that. He hopes – no, he trusts - that Masamune feels that same. He is not prey, he is -

(Every time we meet, we fight.)

That's when Yukimura realizes what he fears the most. It's not the defeat of his lord Takeda, nor is it the failure in battle. Rather, what he fears is that one day their rivalry will end. He fears no longer having reason to cross swords with the One-Eyed Dragon, no longer being able to feel fire coursing through his veins, no longer being able to feel alive. Above all, he fears that one day Masamune will leave and forget him. And to Yukimura, that is the most unbearable thought of all.

Every time we meet, we fight … so why can't we fight forever?

When Masamune sleeps, he dreams in broad, inky strokes painted with melancholy shades. Sometimes they're scenes of glorious battle. Other times they're moments of serene solitude. But always, without fail, he will dream of dragons. They roar savagely with him as he tears across the battlefield, his swords flashing like scales and their scales flashing like swords. They rumble quietly as he sips sake under the harvest moon, eyes as reflective as the liquid's surface. Even though they're undeniably fierce and powerful, he's never afraid. They can shake the heavens, they can quake the earth, but Masamune never feels safer than when he's with them - it's a feeling he can't ever hope to explain. But even a dragon can't ease his current confusion.

The world is a muted monochrome, as if someone had sketched the surroundings in charcoal. This situation wouldn't have been too troubling if it wasn't for sudden shock of color amid the landscape. The black and white magnifies the hues to painful extremes, and Masamune can barely look at it without flinching. It takes a few moments before he finally registers what it is - a tiger.

For one insane moment, Masamune believes the tiger is on fire. A few seconds later, he realizes that it's merely an illusion caused by the striking contrasts of color against monochrome. But even after the surprise wears off, he can still see smoldering embers in its eyes. It doesn't diminish his awe and respect for the creature either - there's something about its power that draws him to it, igniting a flame within his soul the only way Sanada Yukimura can. It's almost as if, Masamune muses, that the tiger is -

Abruptly, his thought breaks off because the dragon is now roaring and the tiger is now snarling and they're crashing against each other in blazes of brilliant light. The sheer force unleashed is overwhelming - Masamune can barely see, let alone think, under such display of power. He's becoming acutely aware that the world is straining to contain them. How much time is left, he wonders, before it's all completely destroyed –

- And now the earth is shattering, the sky is shattering, and Masamune can't think, can't see. Maybe it doesn't matter, he thinks because suddenly everything is changing and now he's the dragon, tearing the heavens asunder to get to the tiger. All he knows is the tiger and its scorching gaze and its terribly gold eyes, but now those gold, goldeyes aren't gold anymore because they're now brown, brutally painfully sincerely brown and suddenly he's fighting Sanada Yukimura, metal crashing against metal, claws clashing against claws.

Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing matters anymore either. All he knows are his whirling blades, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and the sheer, raw joy he feels fighting against his rival.

But now Yukimura is too close, the tiger is too close, and Masamune can feel the hot breath of the beast against his face and the graze of spearsclaws against his back. But it doesn't matter because just as suddenly, everything catches on fire, and everything's melting away to a flurry of soundsightsensation and the world is spinning and spinning and spinning -

- And then he wakes up, the eye-scorching redorangeyellowof dreams bleeding away to blue. Blue, he thinks with a tired confusion, struggling against bone-crushing fatigue and vertigo, What? Where am I?

"My lord? My lord!"

The rousing cries of his subordinates shake him to reality. As Masamune gazes at their weary faces (traces of tears, hints of insomnia – they stand out starkly against their faces in a way he could never ignore), the memories start to bleed back through. He remembers drawing his blade, a cocky smirk on his face and Toyotomi staring grimly back, pulling back his fist and then -

"Was I dreaming?" he mutters. The battle against Yukimura and the tiger feels too real to be a dream (he's still not too sure where the tiger ended and the man began; to him, they are one and the same), especially against the fleeting snatches that he remembers from battling Toyotomi. Masamune can still feel the scorching flames against his back and the rush of primal ecstasy from crossing blades with Yukimura. But his aching, tired body reminds him of another battle, and he remembers the cold determination and the anger and the hate. Those are emotions are very real, and he feels a tendril of fury twist his heart.

"No … you took on Toyotomi Hideyoshi when you were already exhausted …" one of his soldiers whispers, trailing off. Masamune lifts up a hand, regarding it with a sharp eye. This is real, too real, despite the complete surrealism of the situation. He should be dead, not alive if he really fought Toyotomi. Even his disorienting blur of a dream makes more sense than this.

The irony isn't lost upon him.

"So I lost? Why am I still alive?"

"Well, the odds were against you, but … even if we died, we had to protect you. Otherwise, we'd have no reason to live. We'd never be able to face Katakura …"

The absence of Kojuuro has never felt so painfully sharp. Masamune needs someone steady to rely on, to reign in his rashness, to watch his back. He is certain that if his faithful retainer were still here, he wouldn't have acted so recklessly. His dead eye twinges, as if acknowledging the loss.

"Did we lose anybody holding up the rear?" Masamune asks, mind racing as he realizes with a dawning dread how costly his mistake was. How many men died following his orders? How many lives were lost trying to protect him?

"No … somehow we all survived."

"I see."

The relief he feels is overwhelming. For the first time, he looks, just really looks at his soldiers. He sees their unflagging devotion to Oshuu, their unwavering trust in their leader, and most of all, the unshakable love for him - Masamune has no doubt that they would follow him to hell and back. Words can't express his sudden rush of appreciation, nor how much indebted he is to them. But what he can do, he thinks grimly, is lead them out of this mess.

"Thanks," Masamune says with complete sincerity. The word can't adequately express all of his emotions, his gratitude, and the equal love and devotion he feels for them, but it's enough. The shocked faces of his subordinates – that too is enough. He struggles to get up and they instantly rush to his side.

"My lord. You musn't –"

"Bunshinchi. Mago. Find me something to eat," he cuts them off and they respond instantly with a hasty "Yes!" There is order to restore, there are injuries to heal, and there is too little time to do both. His defeat was costly, but he's grateful for the sparse time he now has to recuperate. Toyotomi and Hanbei will have hell to pay once Oshuu is fit to battle - there's nothing like revenge to drive an army.

"Insufficient blood. That masked brownnoser and the ape of a general," Masamune growls, "I underestimated them both."

The cold reality settles upon him and for the first time in years, he feels a shade of despair. But with his discouraged subordinates gathered around him (his, he thinks with some kind of fierce pride), he shoulders past the past the grief. Oshuu's never been in more need for a leader then now, and Masamune never disappoints. Oshuu needs to be rebuilt and Kojuuro needs to be rescued. He can't waste time wallowing. There will be time to reflect later.

Briefly, he wonders if Yukimura is doing well. Masamune remembers the blazing determination, the unstoppable spirit, and almost smiles. When this is all over, he thinks, another fight is in order. The last one ended disappointedly - something within him had snapped when Yukimura tried to stop the battle because he was worried about Takeda's safety. He didn't mean to have it end that way, but he was just glad he didn't have to finish Yukimura off. However, there's nothing he can do about it now. With some regret, he shakes off the thought and sets off to work.

The next night, Masamune doesn't dream of tigers or dragons, but of brown eyes that burn into his soul. When he wakes up, he remembers nothing.

When Yukimura leaves for Satsuma, he leaves as a boy with limitless dreams, an unyielding spirit, and a steadfast faith in his lord. But when he finally arrives, he arrives as a different person; his dreams are fading, his spirit is flagging, and his faith is shaking. For the first time, he's acutely aware of the power he holds in hands, whether it's the fate of the soldiers under his command or the enemies that he faces in battle.

(You're no more than a murderer who delusions of such give him the title general.)

Hisahide's words chill him to the bone. I am better, Yukimura thinks desperately, I fight for justice, I fight for honor. But then he remembers the women, the children, and the elderly struggling in the countryside and their resolve shakes him to the core. They are not the enemy, he repeats to himself desperately, they are not the enemy.

But if that's true, why does he hear cries of murderer, murderer, murderer ringing through his head?

(Why do you think Oyamada-nii-san followed your orders?)

Oyamada – faithful, devoted Oyamada who smiled and listened. But what Yukimura also remembers is an Oyamada who is shouting and falling and bleeding and dying. His death is the biggest burden of all; it oppresses him, crushes him.

(In more peaceful days, one might be able to take one's time maturing. But this is the Sengoku era where you may not see tomorrow. It's too late to learn to how to be general once you've become one.)

Yukimura wonders if his soldiers resent him. In his mind's eye, he can see them huddled together, mourning Oyamada's death in their solidarity. They had kept their distance then. Now, he questions whether it was from grief or from antagonism.

He wonders how Sasuke feels. Was there cynicism in Sasuke's voice as he lectured about the price of war? Yukimura can't remember the tone, if it was curbed at the end from chastisement or sharp with bitterness. He tries not to think about it.

He wonders what Takeda would say to him. When he tries, all he can see is his lord's back, giant and imposing. Looking up at such a mountain of man, Yukimura feels weak and unworthy. Even the imagined disapproval of his lord crushes him.

Most of all, Yukimura wonders what Masamune would think of him now.

(Oyamada-san taught you that with his life.)

No matter how many times he's stood forth, wielding his spears to build a new future, the dream never seems to be closer to realization. The world hasn't really changed at all, Yukimura realizes dejectedly. What has he done but brought more tears? The more he fights, the more he fears that he will forget why he fights. Maybe one day he'll become like the monsters that he fights -

And then he thinks of Date Masamune.

(The One-Eyed Dragon is his enemy. The One-Eyed Dragon is not his enemy.)

Masamune isn't a monster, but he isn't a hero either. He cannot be labeled, just as their relationship cannot be defined by words. They fight not because they have to, but because they want to, even need to. There is no animosity - only flashing blades, flares of red against blue, and the thrill that runs through Yukimura when he stares into the dragon's single eye staring back at him. He is neither friend nor foe, Yukimura realizes, because the One-Eyed Dragon simply is. Masamune is a person, has a soul, has people he cherishes and protects.

With a start, Yukimura realizes that his enemies are people too. They live and breathe, fight and forgive, laugh and mourn, love and hate. They all have names, faces, and personalities. They all have people they cherish. This knowledge is devastating; he knows he can never forgive himself if he destroys those they hold dear. But to ignore that comes at a higher cost, Yukimura thinks wearily. He thinks of the sacrifices both sides have made, of those left behind, of Oichi, of the countryside peasants, and his heart feels heavy.

(I don't he'd want apologies. What's more important is what you do now.)

His dreams still fade, his spirit still flags, and his faith still shakes, but at least now, Yukimura understands the true cost of war. He may not understand the reason for wars, but he wants to know now. There's still a small childish part of him that desperately wants to believe that Takeda has all the answers, but he is not here and Yukimura knows he must carve out his own destiny and find his own answers.

Yukimura arrives at Satsuma as a boy who thinks he understands everything. He leaves Satsuma as a man who knows he understands nothing.

When Masamune set off for Osaka, he never imagined that he would end up in an alliance with Chosokabe Motochika. It's an unexpected, but a reassuring development - the presence of friendly allies boosted his troops' morale considerably. There's also something likeable about the brash pirate that Masamune can't describe. Maybe it's the passion that Motochika battles with. Maybe it's the genuine love the soldiers have for their leader; anyone whose has subordinates that devoted is admirable. It reminds Masamune of his own troops, and his heart lightens a little.

"That damn Mori … leaping into bed with Toyotomi. Why didn't you show me you had the guts to settle things yourself!" Motochika snarls suddenly, breaking Masamune out of his reverie. The pirate's clenched jaw, tightened fists, and narrowed eyes – it's undeniable that he is angry. But there's something in the way his mouth twitches and oddly intense gleam of his stare that doesn't suggest anger, but concern. Masamune can't help but wonder who Mori is to Motochika.

"Eh, don't worry about it. There's a foe I wanted to face before I set my sights on conquest. Sadly, he's troublesome and had no interest. I guess my cup runs over with worthy rivals," Motochika elaborates, his tone carefully light. There's an undercurrent to it that the One-Eyed Dragon can't quite place, but it's immediately clear when he glances at the man's face: affection. It's faint, but undeniable in the rueful smile and the warmth in his eyes. Masamune suddenly feels uncomfortable and turns away.

"What about you Dragon? You look like you're imagining someone's face," Motochika observes. Masamune frowns; he wasn't thinking about Yukimura at all. Rather, it was on Motochika and his –

Ah, exactly, Masamune realizes and he scowls in consternation. It would be a downright lie to say he didn't enjoy Yukimura's company. Even though he finds his rival's bull-headed determination annoying, childish eagerness tiring, and painful sincerity downright frightening, Masamune has to admit he likes him all the same. When he feels an unexpected rush of warmth at the thought, he reluctantly admits that Yukimura is someone special to him after all. Huh. Special, he thinks, smirking.

"There's just one annoying hothead. But I don't know if we'll ever face each other again. He's pure as a lad, but there's no way that can survive the Sengoku era like that. He'll probably die clinging to it," Masamune confesses. He isn't sure why he's sharing this information with Motochika – he hardly knows the man. All they share is the same enemy, a thirst for vengeance, and stubborn rivals they can't forget. Perhaps that's why, Masamune reflects, because he understands.

"But there's still something he has over you," Motochika adds knowingly.

"Yeah. Burning Soul. No exaggeration," Masamune replies, and the first genuine smile in days breaks over his face. "He waves those hot spears around and I just can't keep my cool. It's more than just a burn."

"Oh? I'd like to get a look at the way he handles the spears too."

Motochika's comment barely registers with him. Masamune feels a sudden worry for his rival; he's never thought much of it before, but he realizes with sudden clarity that Yukimura's innocent view on war and justice will be his downfall. The childlike faith and simple devotion - it's a miracle that Yukimura emerged out of the war with Nobunaga so unscathed. Masamune knows with a certain dread that his rival will not be so lucky this time. He only hopes that when they finally meet again, Yukimura will still be whole and not shattered. The fear is unexpectedly suffocating.

What are you doing now, Sanada Yukimura?

When Yukimura finally sees Masamune again, the forces of Oshuu and Shikoku are embroiled in battle with Toyotomi's army. Without hesitation, he launches his forces into battle, cleaving a path through the fray with his whirling spears. His orders are simple - help the allied forces, push back Toyotomi - but he feels anxious. The memory of Oyamada's death is still too fresh. His spirit only lightens when he catches a glimpse of blazing azure light.

"We meet again, Date Masamune! " Yukimura declares when he finally cuts his way to the One-Eyed Dragon's side, "Allow my burning soul and heavenly spears aid you!" Masamune smirks. Unexpectedly, Yukimura's heart quickens.

"You sure took your time, Sanada Yukimura. And I don't like being kept waiting, you see?" Masamune growls. There's no anger in his voice - in fact, he almost seems pleased. A roaring cry from the behind alerts them that Shimazu Yoshihiro's forces have entered combat.

Actions speak louder than words, and both speak the language of battle. Though he still itches to fight Masamune, fighting by the One-Eyed Dragon's side is a different kind of exhilarating. Within a matter of minutes, they fall into smooth synchronicity. The cacophony of metal scraping against metal, the stench of blood and death, and the masses of raised swords fade to the back of Yukimura's mind – to him, there are only blazes of brilliant red and blue scorching the field. It isn't until he hears Motochika's defiant howl that he is brought back to reality of war. A wave of nausea washes over Yukimura and he falters, leaving Masamune to block an incoming sword.

"What's the matter?" Masamune drawls, smiling sharply. "Tiring already?"

Yukimura grits his teeth, unable to explain that he isn't tired in body, but in soul. His reaction time slows as he hesitates just a fraction of a second and a blade slips through his defenses and slashes across his torso. Letting out a strangled gasp, he barely manages to parry another blow when Masamune cuts the solider down, forehead creased in a frown. When the One-Eyed Dragon growls, "Tch, is that all you got? Pull yourself together!", Yukimura finally cracks.

"How can you fight?" Yukimura shouts, frustrated and dejected, "No matter how many times I raise my spears, the world remains unchanged! No matter who the people serve, they all suffer in the end and my spears only serve to bring more suffering to them. We all have the same goal, yet we stand on opposite sides of battle. So tell me, how can you fight?"

The One-Eyed Dragon whirls around in surprise. For a brief moment, Masamune looks consternated, then conflicted, before it smoothes out into something more calculating. He gives Yukimura a good, hard look and the force of his scrutiny is uncomfortable. After a few moments, Masamune speaks.

"Because I have something worth fighting for," he says finally. "Do you?"

With a jolt, Yukimura remembers the kind faces of the peasants, the lazy days in Sasuke's company, and the rigorous, but enthusiastic training with Takeda. He remembers the easy camaraderie of his troops, the patient smile of Oyamada, and the ecstasy of seeing Masamune again. There's a simple and sweet happiness from thinking about them and a fierce urge to protect them swells up; the force of the emotion astounds him.

Then, he smiles.

Yukimura will fight, but not because he wishes to wage war. He will fight, but not just for the glory of his lord. Rather, he will fight so that the people he loves can be happy. There will be deaths and losses on both sides, but it is worth the smile on their faces.

"I, Sanada Genjirou Yukimura, fight to protect the people who are precious to me!" he shouts with newfound resolve. In a quieter tone he adds, "Thanks, Masamune-dono." When Masamune smirks, Yukimura's heart feels surprisingly light.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! Let's party!" Masamune shouts and they blaze through the enemy with scorching power.

Let's finish this, Yukimura thinks. Together.

They do.

When they meet again, it's been months since they've won the war against Toyotomi. All sides were dealt heavy losses – Masamune suffered from severe blood loss, Yukimura was crippled for weeks, and Kojuuro was in critical condition. Not only that, but more than half of their troops had been wiped out. Naturally, Oshuu and Kai pushed back negotiations in order to recuperate.

During their time apart, Masamune itched to battle his rival. He had always held Yukimura in high regard, and the respect only intensified after fighting together once more. There's no doubt that Yukimura has improved considerably since they fought one another; there's now a fluidity in his movements, an almost of feline grace that hides none of the man's outrageous power. His focus is more honed, sharpened like a blade. Even his energy is less wild, although it's far from controlled.

It's also undeniable that Yukimura has grown as a person. While he remains as hot-blooded as always, there's now a shadow that hangs over him that Masamune recognizes as the burden of responsibility and power. The One-Eyed Dragon feels an odd twinge in his heart when he realizes that Yukimura is less innocent that he used to be.

It doesn't lessen the desire to see him though.

When Takeda's forces finally come at Oshuu to finish diplomatic talks, Masamune immediately seeks out Yukimura. The decision to fight requires no words - the minute they set eyes on each other, they know; it's only a matter of seconds before they are embroiled in battle. All Masamune knows is the fire coursing through his veins, his singing blades, and Yukimura's scorching brown eyes. He hasn't felt this alive in a very long time.

Sometime during the battle – Masamune isn't quite sure when, he becomes painfully aware of his rival's potential. While he knows they're evenly matched now, he suspects Yukimura will overpass him one day if he isn't careful. And perhaps when that happens, his rival will move onto greater opponents and leave him behind.

The thought terrifies him.

Masamune can't completely rationalize it. Nothing about Yukimura is rational, whether it's the man's unbelievable power or his single-minded desire to fight the One-Eyed Dragon. It's only natural that the man would inspire such an irrational fear within him, Masamune thinks wryly.

He wonders if Takeda feels this way towards Uesugi and immediately thinks no because they've both been rivals for such a long time that they can only see each other and no one else. He wonders if Motochika feels this way towards Motonari and then knows yes because he remembers the pirate's worry and concern over his rival. Masamune also remembers the affection in Motochika's voice, and suddenly thinks of Yukimura's blazing spirit, burning soul, and those brown, brown eyes and –

Oh shit, Masamune thinks, I think I'm in love.

(All through life, people live so close to the truth that it blurs beyond recognition. It's always in back of their mind, but no one can see it for what it truly is. All they need to do is step back and look to see the truth.)

Masamune looks, really looks at Yukimura and then looks inside himself. He realizes he's been so engrossed in fighting, that he never really wondered why he's so obsessed (and unsurprisingly the only answer he can come up: because it's Yukimura).

The realization is enough to make him stumble and in battle, it's a costly mistake. Within seconds, Masamune finds himself disoriented, on his back, with spears at his throat. For a stunned second, he just stares at Yukimura. Yukimura stares back, equally stunned. Last time, it was Yukimura lying flat on the ground. This time, it's Masamune. The irony isn't lost on either of them.

After a tense second, Yukimura drops his spears and sits down besides Masamune. The One-Eyed Dragon pushes himself up and glares. "Oi, what the hell are you doing?" Masamune barks, "You won."

"No, I didn't," Yukimura replies, eyes staring fixedly at the ground, "Your heart wasn't in the battle. You fell and then –"

"Tch. Then we're even." The words from last time remain unspoken but it's understood. Yukimura exhales loudly, as if he has just released a huge knot of tension from within. Then, there is silence.

"The truth is," Yukimura says suddenly, his voice faltering a little, "The only thing I've wanted to do since we first met is fight you, and only you. Even after all this time, no matter where I go, it's you that I want to fight."

The sincerity is completely frightening. Masamune is sure he would be uncomfortable if he weren't so touched.

"You're the only one I want to fight, idiot," Masamune snorts and an odd, relieved smile spreads over Yukimura's face. "What's happening between us has been happening for centuries. It … whatever it is …. it's happening for a reason."

"Yes." A pause and then, "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me too."

Masamune isn't really sure what to do with this newfound emotion for Yukimura. Though it's undeniably love, it's not the love for a friend, a family member, or a lover. This is something much deeper, more unfathomable. He's not quite sure whether he wants to know exactly what it is either - to define it would be to downplay what it really is. Just sitting in silence with him, fighting with him, talking with him is all Masamune really wants. They still have years to go, and in time, Masamune is sure he'll figure it out.

They both sit there, listening to the sounds of the crickets in the garden and the rustle of wind in the grass. When night falls, they both leave with light smiles and the promise of tomorrow in their hearts.

le fin.