Eye of the Beholder

“H..h..how dare I?” Hatanaka sputtered, managing to sound indignant even with the sword still pressed uncomfortably into his throat. The anger that now coursed through him at the audacity of this puny upstart now matched that of the being in whose grasp he was held. “How dare you!” he retorted. “You attack me and then have the temerity to address me in such a manner! Have you any idea just who I am?”

Icy blue eyes, filled with all the haughty arrogance their former nobility granted them, stared back at the cloaked and hooded figure standing over him.

“I care not in the least for who you are!” spat the figure. Though the face beneath the hood remained invisible, the voice that addressed Hatanaka carried within it the same arrogance as the former noble’s sapphire eyes. “You are nothing more than a common trespasser and thief,” it finished, the sword pressing even further into the soft flesh of his captive’s neck, enough to draw blood.

“I am neither,” the noble fumed. Despite the blood he could feel trickling down his skin, Hatanaka held onto his rage, eyes and voice becoming even more glacial as he glared at the hooded man. “This road is meant for public use; and that bush,” he flung an arm in the direction of the overgrowth from which he’d so recently taken the rose…..

“Wrong again, interloper!” the angry voice hissed, effectively silencing the nobleman before he could so much as finish his thought. “These lands are mine. Thus, whatever is contained on or within them also belongs to me. And though the road may be for public benefit, you were not on it when you cut that rose from my bush.”

The sword pressed against Hatanaka’s throat moved suddenly, the flat end of the blade now pressed beneath his chin, the tip still far too close to his neck for his comfort. Slowly, he felt that blade raise his head until his eyes met twin, burning embers hidden within that hooded cloak.

“Understand me well, thief,” the cloaked figure spoke as though passing judgment, and indeed, the man’s next words confirmed this unpleasant fact. “As these lands are mine, so too, are the laws that govern them. And by these laws, you have been judged guilty of the crimes of trespassing and thievery; the punishment for these being death at my hands; the sentence to be carried out immediately.”

The blood drained from Hatanaka’s face as he felt the blade move from beneath his chin. Still, he maintained his arrogant demeanor. “You cannot! You have no right!” he spat at the small man before him. Blue eyes held that steady, crimson gaze, refusing to yield to the fear he felt at the prospect of his imminent death. “This is not justice. It is nothing short of murder.”

That coldly calculating voice issued forth from the hood once more. “I can… and I shall. As master of these lands, I am well within my rights.” The sword moved again; this time drawn back for the blow that would surely end Hatanaka’s life. “Prepare yourself. I shall ensure your death will be quick and painless.”

Yet before the blade could descend, a loud cry resounded through the wood, “STOP!” followed by the pounding of running feet upon hard-packed soil, and the cloaked figure suddenly became aware of a body placed between himself and the thief kneeling in the dirt. Hatanaka was shocked, as well, to find his head still firmly attached to his shoulders. Carefully he shifted his gaze from his would-be executioner to the figure that had so fortuitously intervened. Shock quickly gave way to surprise as he noted the slender, almost feminine frame and long, scarlet hair of his stepson, his shoulders heaving as the boy tried to catch his breath.

Swallowing hard, Hatanaka found his voice. “Kurama?” he asked, his mind not quite ready yet to accept what it was his eyes were seeing. “H… how did you?” And as he realized that, indeed, it was his stepson standing between himself and the sword-wielding maniac, he demanded, “Why are you here?”

Kurama turned his head slightly to the side and smiled. His voice, when he spoke, was steady; as he’d managed to regain his breath in the time it had taken Hatanaka to recognize him. “Yes, Stepfather, it is I. And as to why I am here… I was searching for you. Shu-kun and I became concerned when you had not returned after three weeks, and we had had no word from you. When more than a month had passed, we decided we could wait no longer, and so we agreed that I should begin today, to search for you. This morning, I borrowed a horse from the Yukimura hostel and set out. I was just about to give up my search for the day when I came upon hoof prints upon the road leading in this direction and decided to follow them. As I came nearer, I heard upraised voices and recognized one as your own.”

“And my son? What of him?” While he was grateful for the boy’s timely arrival, Hatanaka felt his anger begin to rise again; this time directed at the young man who stood in front of him. He’d left his only child in Kurama’s care and could not believe the young man’s irresponsibility in leaving him alone while he traipsed the countryside looking for him.

“There is no need to worry, Stepfather,” Kurama responded, “Shu-kun is quite safe I assure you. He’s with Yusuke; staying at the hostel until our return.”

A muttered oath came from the former noble. Yet, before he could fully articulate his thoughts into words regarding the wisdom of entrusting his son to the dubious care of Yusuke Urameshi, a deep voice intruded, returning him abruptly to the unpleasant moment at hand.

The cloaked figure had been astonished by the redheaded youth’s arrival. So much so, that he’d momentarily forgotten what it was he was about to do and the reason for his action. Now, however, he shook his head, clearing it of the sight before him: the lithe figure of the boy, his cascading fall of crimson hair, and those wide, deep emerald eyes that held no fear of the man before him. Cleared it not only of that sight, but of his own, quite unexpected reaction to the youth.

“Forgive me for intruding upon such a touching reunion.” The man’s words positively dripped with sarcasm. “However,” and here he addressed his remarks to Hatanaka, who had by this time, risen to his feet and stood behind the youth, looking over the boy’s shoulder at him. “But I believe you and I have unfinished business.”

The blade was raised again, and again, it was blocked by the youth, who refused to move from his protective stance.

“Your pardon, sir,” Kurama spoke and there was not a hint of trepidation in the clear tenor. “But this business you speak of seems to be nothing more than your intent to murder my stepfather. And that, I cannot allow.”

The dark figure snorted. “Hn. Fortunately,” he replied, “you have no say in the matter, boy. Your stepfather not only trespassed upon my lands, he was caught in the act of thievery; crimes punishable by death.”

Green eyes narrowed as the man finished speaking. Kurama felt his own anger stir at the cloaked figure’s slanderous words. He fought it down, knowing that he needed to remain calm if there was to be any hope of his diffusing the situation and gaining his stepfather’s life and freedom. Relaxing his stance slightly, he again addressed the small, cloaked figure.

“Surely, sir, you are mistaken. My stepfather is a noble gentleman and would never lower himself to so mean a state as petty thievery.”

“And what would you know of the matter?” the hooded figure retorted. “You were not here to bear witness as he defiled my property, callously taking that which did not belong to him without so much as a ‘by your leave’.”

“Defiled?” The confusion in Kurama’s voice was clearly evident.

“There!” the man spat, the sword in his hand swinging away to point at the run-to-riot rose bush. “He took one of those… those roses… my mother’s roses,” he finished quietly.

Large green eyes widened further, if such a thing was possible. The cloaked figure had sounded distressed, almost as if he was in pain, as he’d finished speaking. Kurama turned slightly, once more facing his stepfather.

“Stepfather?” Hatanaka had the grace to look abashed.

“It was not really thievery,” the older man explained. “You see, I saw the bush hanging over the wall full of those beautiful roses, and since I had not remembered to stop by the flower vendor before leaving the city to obtain the rose cutting you had asked me to bring…..” He took a breath then rushed through the remainder of his explanation. “I thought that if I brought you one of those instead, then at the very least, you would have the flower to admire for a few days.”

“It was thoughtless of my, I know,” he finished, somewhat lamely.

Kurama nodded, gifting Hatanaka with a sympathetic smile. “I understand. And I do thank you for remembering my request.”

“Very well, then.” He turned to face the cloaked figure once more. “As you heard, sir, my stepfather meant no harm. Nonetheless, he did take the rose, but since he did so to please me, the responsibility for the theft is mine. Therefore, I offer you my life in exchange for his.”

Hatanaka gasped. “Kurama… NO!”

“Silence, Fool!” The deep voice growled, the sword swinging up to point at the nobleman once more. “This is no longer your concern. It is now between the boy and me.”

The cloaked figure seemed to raise its head. Twin blood-red orbs, barely discernible from the dark recesses of the hood, fix themselves on Kurama, and the youth met that gaze evenly.

“You would be willing to give up your life… for him?” The figure asked.

“Of course,” he replied in the same quiet, tranquil voice that he had used throughout. “The fault for the theft lies with me. If I had not requested that cutting, my stepfather would not have taken one of the roses from your bush.”

At his words, the hooded figure seemed to give a curt nod. The hooded head lowered, as he seemed to contemplate the redheaded youth’s magnanimous and very courageous offer. Silence stretched between the three men until finally, that hooded head rose again.

“Your bravery is to be commended,” he told Kurama, bowing slightly to the youth. “And under any other circumstances, I would not hesitate to accept such an offer. However…..”

“I will not allow you to take his life,” Kurama broke in, once again assuming his protective stance in front of Hatanaka, arms spread; a barrier between the cloaked figure, his sword, and his stepfather.

“So quick to assume the worst, are you?” Kurama could almost hear the smirk in that deep voice. A soft, barely audible sigh and then the voice continued. “Be that as it may; as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted… I am willing to be merciful and to offer a compromise that should benefit you both.”

Not allowing either man the opportunity to respond, the cloak figure continued speaking. “I shall grant your stepfather his life and allow him to return to his home. And in exchange, you will agree to remain here – as my companion – for the remainder of your natural life. Are we in accord?”

Kurama had no chance to respond, as Hatanaka immediately spoke up. “NO!” he adamantly responded. He reached out, resting a hand on a slender shoulder.

The youth, however, was not to be swayed. “If I agree, you guarantee his life and freedom?” Kurama asked the cloaked figure.

“You have my word,” the figure responded, giving a solemn nod.

“Very well.” Responding in kind, Kurama raised his own hand and put it over his stepfather’s. Shifting slightly he faced the older man, smiling gently.

Hatanaka returned that gaze, a frown upon his noble visage. “I cannot allow you to do this,” he said softly, his voice laced with regret.

“I know,” the boy returned with a gentle smile. “But the choice is not yours, Stepfather. It is mine, and I choose to remain.”