Summary:
Devastating events formed a rift between Ryo and Seiji. Five years later, they are called to arms to discover what really happened. The truth is more horrifying than they could have ever imagined.
Ryo/Seiji shounen ai drama R

Author's note: I've been working on this story for a long, long time. It's the first I've ever had the courage to post, so please be gentle in review :)
While I've used the Japanese names, and have tried to be as accurate as possible, I have taken liberties with the family histories of the samurai troopers-- it's my story, so why not bend it just a little? (Or throw them out altogether and write new ones *grins*) So as you read, please keep in mind that the brief histories are not samurai trooper canon.

Warning: This story contains shounen ai, which implies male/male love. Please do not read if such ideas upset you. Please use your good judgment. This fiction also contains character death.
Rated R for violence, strong language and sexual situations.

Disclaimer: "Yoroiden Samurai Troopers" does not belong to me. I am but a lowly slug.
Any comments or suggestions are welcome as long as they are constructive. Heck, if you just want to chat samurai troopers, feel free to drop me a line.
Comments can be made at: [email protected]

In the great words of Andy Kaufman, "Thank you very much."
--Li

A Stitch in Time

Chapter One
Surfacing

Merged together in a steady blur, the landscape formed hypnotic streaks of earthy colors. Seiji did not remember getting on the train-- he just suddenly was. Smudges of greens and browns whirled past as he retraced his steps and vaguely remembered purchasing a ticket.
        Where am I going? Seiji wondered. And yet, as the train irrevocably barreled over the tracks towards its destination, he knew. Deep down inside himself, he knew where he was headed.
        He was going back to Odawara.
        It had started months ago, when he had felt a small, annoying pang constraining his chest. Naturally, Seiji ignored it, as he did most things that he would rather not experience. The yearning expanded. The call to arms became so great, that he could no longer deny its presence.
        The armor orb had remained exactly where he had hidden it-- in the bottom drawer of the only dresser in his room, locked inside a small wooden jewelry box that had once belonged to his mother.
        Five years had passed since he'd donned his armor. Five years since he had been with the other troopers, his band of brothers. Five years since he had last seen Ryo.
        Many thoughts trespassed through his mind, but only one sent shivers down his spine.
        He might be there.
        Seiji forced the offending thought away. He could not dwell on Ryo without feeling a deeply seated pain. Betrayed or betrayer, he knew not which he was.
        Seiji collected pain like a savage collects scalps. Souvenirs of the past were seared in his mind, and they surfaced in waking dreams and nightmares that would not fade. Without meaning to, he replayed them again and again, tracing over the memories as if with a razor, to ensure that the scar would always be there, that the pain would never die. A self-inflicted violence of sorts.
        Visual reminders screamed out to him as the landscape changed from tall urban structures into nature's edifice, and Seiji could not help but think back on the moment that had destroyed everything.

        It had been cold that day, but a clean kind of cold. The kind that makes one want to venture outside and breathe fresh air. Snow had fallen during the night, the first of the season and they had trudged unsuspectingly through the frozen field to their ruin.

        Ryo, Seiji and Nasuti were the first to break the surface as they toiled through the barren terrain. A frigid gust of wind whisked through the icy tundra, making the three sink further into their coats.
        It was the winter after they had defeated Arago, and laid any left over demons to rest. Months went by without the slightest misfortune, and the troopers began to relax, taking advantage of the break, being kids again. After all, they had been so young-- only fourteen when called to fight.

        Seiji closed his eyes tightly, remembering all too well as Nasuti took those fateful steps forward, venturing farther ahead. She did not know that those would be her last steps...

"This is where grandfather used to take me when I was young, I remember..." She said excitedly. Nasuti ran as best she could through the snow, reveling in her memories of childhood.
        She stopped suddenly, feeling that something was not quite right there. Her warm breath crystallized instantly into visible puffs of white in the subzero temperature. Nasuti recoiled into her parka as the clouds stirred and the atmosphere blackened.

        As if one could step out from behind the sky, a heavily armed warrior appeared from a flux in the air. His armor was a massive collaboration of many, seemingly fused together in violence. The red and black armor glistened in the sun and its reflection shone in the newly fallen snow.
        "Your armors or your lives." He snarled. It was not an uncommon demand, so of course they intended to resist.
        But, why had Nasuti gone ahead? Why had they let her?

        In the instant between surprise and response, Ryo and Seiji realized it was too late already. It had been too late the moment she had stepped away from them.
            Futilely, Ryo called out a warning to her, but she was frozen in place, terrified.
        The warlord moved too quickly, as if the rules of time and space did not apply to him. He pulled his sword from the sheath strapped to his back and raised the blade high in the air.
            Running against their fears, Ryo and Seiji darted forward, praying to any God that would save her.
        The charged sword slashed through Nasuti's body with vicious intensity. She screamed in anticipation of the blade, but merely gasped as it pierced her.

            Stumbling, they came upon her, disbelieving what had just happened. A spray of red blood stained the snow beneath her. It began to collect in quickly cooling pools.
        Ryo and Seiji supported her between them, their loss unthinkable.
        Her mouth opened and closed, unable to speak even if she wanted to. Her eyes searched their faces imploringly for understanding.
        "Shh. Just hang on, Nasuti." Ryo said to her. "Don't leave."

        To this day Seiji did not know what she had been trying to tell them.

She stilled quietly, and was gone from them without even a whisper.
         "No... oh no!" Ryo shouted, pulling her body to him, for that was all that remained of Nasuti. No chance to say goodbye-- no chance to do anything.

        Seiji could hardly believe it, the reality turning his body numb-- or perhaps it was the snow. Either way, he cut himself off from the emotion, unlike Ryo, who's hurt was evident in the very manner in which he breathed.
        Ryo laid Nasuti gently on the snow, her face matching the whiteness. Silence fell between the two, only the sound of frigid wind whipping over their prone bodies, to comfort them.

            Breaking the quiet, Ryo's voice was low and gritty. "Bring her back."
        Seiji looked up sharply, thinking he must have misunderstood. "What?"
         Ryo raised his eyes to meet his gaze and said steadily, "Bring her back. You can do it. Kourin can save her."
         "Ryo," Seiji started, shaking his head. "I cannot heal her from death."
        "You can--." Ryo shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Do it!"
        Seiji saw madness creeping into Ryo's eyes, a desperate kind of blackness that he'd never seen before.
        It was impossible. Seiji knew it, yet he conceded to Ryo's demand all the same.
        How he wanted to be wrong, to find a spark of life locked in her cold exterior, to feel life encompass her once more, to end Ryo's grief...
        Until he felt the prick of numbness begin to render him unconscious, Seiji focused his energy, channeling it through Kourin to Nasuti's form.
        "I'm sorry..." He breathed. "I cannot, Ryo. She is gone."
        "Try again! Try again!!"
         "Ryo--."
        "Try again, damn you!" Ryo screamed with fury, striking at him. His clenched hands flew, trying to thrash Seiji into compliance.
        He wordlessly caught Ryo's fists and tried to keep him still.
        "You let her go!" Ryo accused, tears streaming down his cheeks. "How could you, Seiji? How could you?"
            Despite all his defenses, that remark had hurt. Seiji released his flailing arms, allowing Ryo to push him away.
         Ryo stood shakily, glaring down at him. His blue eyes darkened with anger-- blaming, denouncing. He gathered Nasuti into his arms and carried her towards the house, leaving Seiji alone in the snow.
        It wasn't until they had disappeared from view that Seiji realized the warlord had vanished without attempting to take their armor. What he'd taken from them was worth much more.

        The days that followed became progressively worse. After Nasuti's death, a darkness had settled in Ryo-- that was the only way Seiji could describe it.
            Friction-- a resisting force, a pleasure or pain sensation. There was friction between he and Ryo-- grating, unnerving. One encounter with Ryo left him raw. There was no talking to him-- Ryo was not a man of words, but a man of actions.
        The other troopers noticed Ryo's unwonted behavior-- something was taking him over. Attributing it to a mixture of grief and guilt, they assured Seiji that it would take time, but Ryo would eventually come to his senses.
        Except Ryo's hatred grew and before long, verbal blows led to physical aggression. Seiji was sick of it. Not one to be intimidated or harassed, he finally confronted Ryo.

        He couldn't remember what Ryo had said or why he had let it provoke him. In the end it didn't matter. It had been raining though, he recalled. The mud had clung to his legs, weighing them down.
        Shin had dashed out into the weather to stop them.
        Giving him a menacing look, Ryo had told him to stay put or he'd be sorry. Seiji remembered Shin's voice clearly as he screamed for Shuu to hurry-- it had contained real fear in it.
        It would take both Shin and Shuu to stop Ryo in his fury when he had clearly gone insane.
        Touma had also come into the rain to try and talk sense into both of them. His words of reason did not make a mark. Neither Ryo nor Seiji had backed down.
         He didn't recall who had started it, he only remembered thinking that he had to hold back. It was Ryo, after all, and Seiji had been certain that he was completely out of his mind.
        They lashed out at each other, matching blow for blow, a frightening display of their skills.
        Losing his footing on the drenched earth, Seiji awkwardly flipped back, barely avoiding Ryo's forward attack. Taking advantage of his lapse, Ryo suddenly charged Seiji, and contacted solidly against him. Sliding in the mud, propelled by Ryo's force, they smashed through the wooden weapons rack that sat in the yard.
        They both lay stunned on the soaked earth, breathing hard, the fray apparently over. Reposed on his back, the steady rain pelted Seiji's face, the heavy drops running down his cheeks. Slowly, Ryo pushed himself to his knees, his hands sinking deeply into the mud.
        Then a fateful pause of premeditation--
        In a swift motion of blind fury, Ryo lurched towards Seiji, a mud caked weapon clenched between his fists.
         Had the violet of Seiji's eyes not implored Ryo's blue, Seiji would have been killed. For whatever reason, Ryo's aim was off-- the blade missed his chest, but struck him to the left of his collarbone, into his shoulder.
            Exhaling a gasp of pain, he looked up into Ryo's face and saw him freeze, blinking in confusion.
        "S-Seiji?" Ryo uttered.
        No sooner had the knife sought blood, had Shuu tackled Ryo, sending them both plunging into the mud.

        Seiji's memory was colored with anguish, and he remembered only three things undoubtedly about that night.

            Shouting.
         "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
        That had been Touma fiercely rebuking his leader, his voice carried to Seiji's ears by the beating wind.
            "Ryo..." It must have been the first time in his life that Shuu was left nearly speechless. "...that was low... You-- you could have killed him!"

            Hands.
         Fingertips of flame burned his flesh as they probed the throbbing wound.
        "Let me see... oh shit." Shin had murmured. The rain had spread his blood quickly, staining his white shirt in deep, red splotches. Shin applied pressure to the artery to staunch the flow of his blood. He had been lucky, Shin told him. The angle was awkward and it would take a while to heal, but he would be all right.

        Ryo.
        The look of shock that contorted his face was one he had never forgotten.   Ryo's eyes were so very blue-- deep orbs of shining disbelief.
        Seiji clung to that blue.
        Ryo suddenly dropped the blade as if it burned him. Then he staggered backward and ran towards the house.

        That had been completely unlike Ryo. Ryo fought with honor.
        It didn't make sense, but neither did Nasuti's sudden death for that matter.
        The mounting tension had come to a breaking point that evening and there was only one thing that Seiji felt he could do.
        I abandoned them. He thought bitterly-- forsaken them in anger.
        Why had he left? Seiji was not afraid of death, nor did he fear Ryo's retribution. But he knew he had to go-- was it the armor protecting him?

        The night he left was a blur. It marked the first of many blackouts. Seiji reacted without thinking-- lost deep inside himself, his instincts taking over.
            Somehow he had found himself at his father's dojo, where he'd spent the past five years in a stifled daze. Life was not easy with his father. How could it be-- four fifths of him was missing?



        Cherry blossom petals fell softly at his feet, littering the forest floor like snow. It was obvious that not many visitors had come this way. The feel of the earth had not changed and the outward appearance had remained amazingly close to what it had been five years ago.
        Seiji realized that for the second time today, he had let his mind wander. Somehow he had managed to get off the train at the right stop. Memory suspending the present moment for so long, it was a wonder that he functioned at all.
            Suddenly, like a yawn, he felt a stretch in his mind, a link reconnecting. Anxiety tightened the laces inside as a familiar presence filled him, pervading his senses. Turning only to verifiy the suspicion in his brain, Seiji came face to face with Ryo.



Continued in Chapter Two: Confronting the Years