Work Text:
Sanada Genjiro Yukimura is becoming a man. It’s increasingly obvious to Sasuke, if not to Shingen, and it’s increasingly obvious to the young ladies (and some of the men) around Kai who just so happen to put down their hoes and watch whenever Yukimura’s doing spear drills in the morning. Or the afternoon. Or the evening. Or the middle of the night when he really should be taking one of those admirers back to his rooms and drilling a different spear.
He’s seventeen, for god’s sake. If he’s not drinking and screwing, then what has he become a man for?
Not that he says it in exactly those words to Shingen, but it’s close enough.
“Interesting,” Shingen says, thumbing his chin. “I must admit, I have neglected this area of the boy’s education. Very good of you, Sasuke, to take it upon yourself to secure an appropriate instructor for him!”
“Wait, what?” Sasuke says, less eloquently than he meant to.
“I can only assume you bring it to my attention because you have an idea of how to proceed.”
Sasuke coughs into his fist, the back of his neck as bright as Yukimura’s armor. “My lord, that wasn’t exactly what I said--”
“Excellent!” Shingen rises from his seat on the dais and brandishes his greataxe at Sasuke. Threat or not, it’s not the friendliest sight in the world despite Shingen’s cheerful words. “Sarutobi Sasuke, you are hereby charged with the education of your commander, Sanada Genjiro Yukimura, in matters carnal. Secure an appropriate consort--or consorts, I should say, ha! Yukimura has always required special attention--and report to me if you have any difficulties.”
Difficulties. Sasuke sighs, scratches behind his ear, but Shingen can be just as much of a brick wall as Yukimura once he’s made up his mind about something, and he’s beaming down at Sasuke with a you-better-not-screw-this-up smile.
He kneels before Shingen one last time and flashes out, thinking. Sure, his master’s a little dense, but Sasuke’s had to work around that for most of his life. Besides, it’s not like he has any shortage of admirers in Kai. While it might not be a piece of cake, it shouldn’t be any harder than finding him a good sparring partner.
Then again, as last words go, those are pretty famous.
***
“Who is she, Sasuke?” Yukimura asks.
“Her name’s Atsuko,” Sasuke says, ushering him along to the riverbank. “She’s been watching you train for weeks, you might recognize her.”
Yukimura frowns, and Sasuke sees the gears in his head click as he tries to remember anything about his training sessions other than his drillwork and getting punched into walls. “Perhaps I shall when I see her. Oh, does Lady Atsuko wish to learn the art of the spear? While I know it is rare for women to do so, I have also witnessed Lady Kasuga’s and Lady Matsu’s prowess in battle, and if her father permits her--”
Sasuke waves him off. “I’m sure she wants nothing more than the pleasure of your company.”
That makes Yukimura’s frown deepen. “Is that so?”
“You can ask her yourself.” Sasuke indicates where she’s waiting, under a flowering tree by the riverside. Of all the girls ogling Yukimura, he thinks she’s the prettiest, though admittedly his tastes tend to run toward girls with a little more to offer. But hey, if this one doesn’t tickle his master’s fancy, he can try someone a little more streamlined next time.
Also, this Atsuko has a really cute blush. Which she’s putting on display right now, staring at Yukimura like he’s the sun come down to earth.
“My lord,” she says, shy and stammering.
“Good afternoon, Lady Atsuko,” Yukimura says, and Atsuko’s blush deepens. Nice going, Sasuke thinks, and grins. The two of them are already as cute as a basketful of kittens. “I understand that you wished to speak to me.”
“Yes! I wondered if you would do me the honor of, um, walking among the cherry blossoms with me?”
“But my lady, they do not appear to be in bloom!”
“Um, even so...”
They stroll off together, and Sasuke makes himself, if not scarce, at least unobtrusive. So yeah. They walk. And talk. And nothing happens. And the sun sets. And nothing continues to happen.
She told him to look at cherry blossoms with her, for crying out loud. Sasuke rests his palm on his forehead. The next time he sees Maeda Keiji, he promises himself, he’s going to whack him over the head with his own sake jug. Apparently everyone understands the beauty of a cherry tree in bloom doesn’t apply to his master.
***
After Atsuko, Eiko (less curvy than Atsuko), Aino (an older woman maybe?), and Daisuke (kind of cute, actually, if you’re into that sort of thing, which Sasuke isn’t) fail to get their intentions through Yukimura’s thick head, Sasuke raises the issue a little more directly.
“So sex never came up, huh?”
Yukimura’s spears clatter to the ground. “--what?”
“You walked the same strip of cherry trees four times this week.”
“I had heard that the blossoms were gradually emerging!” he says, and pauses. “Though I admit, I did not notice much of a difference. I did look,” he adds, like he expects Shingen to pop up from behind the shed and sock him in the jaw for not using his eyes properly.
Somewhere, Maeda Keiji is laughing his feathered ass off.
Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Master, you could have looked at the people you were walking with instead. With all due respect, every single one one of them wanted your more intimate company.”
“...I am not sure I understand.”
“Those girls wanted to have sex with you. Daisuke too.”
It takes a few seconds for that to sink in, but Sasuke notices exactly when it does, because Yukimura’s eyes go round as saucers, and his jaw falls open wide enough to let flies in. “If that was truly their intent--forgive me, Sasuke, and I must apologize to them as well, but I could not do such a thing!”
“And why not?”
“I would never wish to besmirch the honor of Lady Atsuko, or Lady Eiko, or Lady Aino,” he says, “and ruin their prospects for honorable marriage! And I am not of appropriate age or accomplishment to take a wakashu, and besides, Lord Daisuke seems too old to be one.”
“It’s a little different for peasants, master,” Sasuke explains. “You wouldn’t ruin any of the ladies’ prospects, and if you turned out to like any one of them you could just take her into your household. Same goes for Daisuke, though in that case I’m fairly sure it wouldn’t ruin anything. And all of them knew what else might happen anyway. Don’t concern yourself with that, master.”
“They mentioned nothing of the sort to me!” Yukimura says, and oh boy, if Sasuke’s right that flush crawling up his cheekbones isn’t embarrassment, it’s indignation. He braces himself. “Sasuke, I think you go too far in your accusations--”
“What I mean to say,” Sasuke says, “is that their intentions were honest and not dishonorable. So you wouldn’t be dishonoring them either.”
“Oh,” Yukimura says, and actually shuts up for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Though if you’re concerned about being someone’s first experience, I think I have a better idea...”
***
“Interesting,” Shingen says.
“I thought so too.” Sasuke extends a scroll forward. “Here’s the price estimate.”
“Interesting,” Shingen says again. “It seems to cost as much to take him to a pleasure district as it is to bring the ladies here. Which would you advise?”
“My lord,” Sasuke sighs, “do you want to let my master loose in a pleasure district?”
Shingen laughs. “I should think not. Bring the ladies here to Kai, then, and we’ll see how Yukimura receives them.”
***
Yukimura sits across from the first of the courtesans just after sunset. Two hours later, they’ve gotten to talking about the courtesan’s training in flower arrangement. Two hours after that, she’s demonstrating the art to Yukimura, who seems genuinely interested, if comically inept. Two hours after that, Sasuke gives up.
“Master,” Sasuke says the following morning, when it becomes clear that Yukimura has slept alone, “with all due respect, what the hell?”
“Lady Yurichiho was very skilled at her art--”
He calls the courtesans lady too. Of course. “Do you know what other art she’s probably skilled at? The one you hired her for.”
“I merely wished to know more about her before we--” Yukimura shuts his mouth, and funny as it is to watch him struggle to come up with a way to say had sex politely, Sasuke’s quickly getting tired of this whole thing.
“Do you want me to send her again tonight?”
“I would not wish to be an inconvenience...”
“It’s her job, Yukimura.”
“But she is so passionate about flower arrangement!”
Sasuke hangs his head in his hands.
Yukimura sits across from the second of the courtesans just after sunset. This one has strict orders to get Yukimura sufficiently tipsy to not give a damn about flower arrangement. Two hours later, Yukimura is curled up sleeping in the corner like a puppy. It’s cute. It’s also not what Sasuke’s shelling out all this money for. Well, it’s Shingen’s, not his own, but the point’s the same.
“What happened this time, master?” he asks.
“Lady Kanemomo was kind enough to pour sake for me,” Yukimura says. “And then she continued to pour it, and I thought it would be rude to refuse her.”
“Do you know what’s also rude to refuse her? The thing you hired her for.”
Yukimura’s hands ball into fists at his sides. “Sasuke, surely you paid her for her services!”
“Of course I paid her. She said it was the easiest money she’d ever made.”
“Well,” Yukimura says, and at least he has the decency to stare at his shoes, “I would not want to be a burden...”
“Good,” Sasuke says, kneeling in what seems almost a parody of Yukimura’s due respect. “Master, I am going to pay another woman to offer you the pleasure of her company tonight. Please don’t dishonor her by implying that it’s not worth your lordship’s money.”
He picked the right word, because Yukimura straightens immediately, squaring his shoulders like Shingen’s just told him to lead a charge. “I assure you, I will not!”
Yukimura sits across from the third of the courtesans just after sunset. They only have two cups of sake each. No one brings up flower arrangement. The courtesan sidles up to Yukimura and puts her hand on his chest, and he bristles like a dandelion shattering in the wind, spewing apologies left right and center. After about half an hour of this, during which no one removes their clothes, the courtesan takes pity on him and prepares a pot of tea.
After that, Sasuke gets so disgusted with the whole thing that he can’t even fulfill his duties as a shinobi and make himself listen in on what they’re saying, because Yukimura’s probably asking her about her family’s farm or something just as bad.
Also, like hell Shingen is going to give him any more money for all of this.
***
“Interesting,” Shingen says.
“The opposite, actually.” Sasuke has given up on kneeling and stands against the wall with his arms crossed. “It was about as boring as watching fish hatch.”
“Well, it cannot be helped. What is the next step?”
“I think, my lord,” Sasuke says, “that my master might have an easier time trying his luck with someone he already knows. I hoped you might suggest someone.”
“Hm. No one in particular comes to mind, but I will bend Kenshin’s ear on the subject.”
--Kenshin. Hey. “No, my lord, I think I can take care of the ear-bending.”
***
What Sasuke means to say to Kasuga is, “Can you help me think of someone who’d give Yukimura a blowjob?”
What Sasuke actually says to Kasuga--because when she perches on her branch at that angle, her breasts look just about ready to tumble out of her bodysuit and who can blame him for getting distracted--is, “Can you give Yukimura a blowjob?”
Kasuga chokes back a scream of outrage, flings way too many kunai at his crotch for his comfort, and Sasuke races back to Kai through the trees before this mission to get Yukimura laid cripples his own ability to do just that.
***
“Keiji,” he says, maybe a little too cheerfully, “it’s been far too long.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Keiji smiles back, but his smile doesn’t reach all the way to his eyes. “What’s up?”
“I need you to have sex with Yukimura.”
The monkey chirrs inquisitively.
“Oh,” Keiji says. “Sure. Anything else?”
“Punch him in the face first, maybe. That might get his attention. And you know how fired-up he gets when he fights. No pun intended,” he adds.
Keiji laughs, picks a stray leaf out of his bangs. “It’s not a problem. He hasn’t been causing you trouble or anything lately, has he?”
Sasuke is a shinobi. Sasuke is used to letting his silence speak volumes. This one screams.
“Right, got it.” Keiji gives Sasuke one last wave and jogs towards the Takeda compound, his hand cupped over his mouth. “Oi! Sanada!”
Well. That was easy enough. Sasuke’s almost tempted to just trust Keiji to get the job done and take the afternoon off.
...Almost.
***
If Keiji didn’t already have one black eye, Sasuke might give him another. “What the hell happened?”
“It was a good spar!”
“I thought you didn’t like fighting!”
“I don’t. But he was really enthusiastic, and you told me to punch him in the face. He punched back, is all. His form’s improved.”
“You were supposed to improve his form.”
The monkey chirrs. Sasuke glares at it until it scuttles back into Keiji’s rumpled hakama.
“Look, I like a good tumble as much as the next guy,” Keiji says. He scratches underneath his chin. “As long as the next guy isn’t Yukimura, I guess. But sometimes things just don’t work out like that.”
There’s an unusually wistful note in Keiji’s voice that Sasuke might have been tempted to pry into if all his information-gathering skills weren’t bent on finding out what supernatural force seems to be so interested in protecting Yukimura’s virginity. It has to be divine intervention, at this point. That’s the only explanation. “Keiji, he’s just a kid. And pretty soon, knowing how the world turns, he’s going to be doing nothing but fighting. Sure, he’ll like it at first, since fighting’s his reason to breathe, but you know even better than I do that war takes that spirit and twists it. My master’s growing up. He shouldn’t have to take only the bad and miss out on the good.”
“Oh,” Keiji says, and blinks a few times. “That’s kind of you, Sasuke.”
“Yeah,” Sasuke sighs. “And if he doesn’t blow off some of that fucking steam I’ll go insane.”
***
“And that was a week ago?” Kojuro asks.
“Yeah.” Sasuke’s getting a headache just retelling the story, and rubs the bridge of his nose. The presence of the Date Army in Kai isn’t helping the headache much. “Show of goodwill” or no, he’s sure he saw some of their soldiers sneaking into the warehouse, and who knows if they’ll have any sake left at all by the time the Date Army leaves. Better to drink it now.
Kojuro seems to have the same idea, refills his cup but lets it sit. “If you want my advice, just let it go.”
“Too late to ask whether I want it if you’ve given it already.”
“I mean it,” Kojuro says. “These things tend to take care of themselves. Sooner or later he’ll figure out what he wants, and if he does he’ll come to you and tell you he’s ready.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, my master isn’t good at figuring out what he wants.”
“But is it really better to tell him what he wants?”
Sasuke thinks about that for a moment, and takes a long swallow of sake. The Date Army’s gotten a little quieter, but the Takeda Army’s more than making up the difference. At least they’re all having a good time, from the shouts of laughter and outbursts of song. And Yukimura’s voice soars on top of all of those, joined occasionally by what Sasuke assumes are grunts of effort from Masamune. He looks over his shoulder. Sparks of lightning and flashes of fire shoot up from the courtyard, but none of it looks like it’ll do worse damage than one of Shingen and Yukimura’s bonding sessions.
“Well, he seems happy now,” Sasuke says, as the last tongue of flame fades.
Kojuro nods, approvingly, and toasts with his sake cup before drinking. “Exactly. Let him be happy. He’ll worry about sex when he’s--”
A distinct moan rings out from the courtyard. Lord Masamune--
“--ready,” Kojuro finishes.
Even the combined armies shut up for a second, which makes it easy to hear someone growl Keep up! Someday, Sasuke has to ask Kojuro where Lord Masamune learned to talk like a barbarian, but now’s probably not the best time.
“Think they’ll make it inside?” he asks instead.
“I doubt it.” Kojuro drains his cup of sake and starts pouring the next one. He offers the cup to Sasuke, who takes one look at it, glances over at the jug, and grabs that instead. He should have realized, he thinks, while the sake burns his throat but hasn’t fogged his brain just yet, that once someone did manage to turn Yukimura on to the idea of sex, he’d be just as enthusiastic about it as he is about everything else. Which is to say that the courtyard walls, thick as they are, do absolutely nothing to block the moans rising from behind them. At least he can’t make out any individual words. Yet.
Kojuro holds out his hand for the sake jug.
Sasuke says, “Get your own.”
***
Sanada Genjiro Yukimura walks into the receiving chamber the next morning with a glazed expression and even messier hair than usual. “Ah, good morning, Sasuke,” he says, and the silly grin plastered on his face is wider than it has any right to be. “The sky is truly beautiful today, is it not? And the birds’ songs--”
“Master, with all due respect,” Sasuke says, “please stop talking.” The raw vein in his forehead throbs in agreement. It’s been throbbing since midnight, when it became clear that Sasuke would be getting no more sleep than anyone within hearing range of last night’s show of diplomacy.
“My apologies, Sasuke,” Yukimura says, and blinks, tries to bring his eyes into focus. “But I have had a most incredible experience, one that ignites the passion in my chest merely to think about--”
Date Masamune strolls in, whistling. “Oi, Kojuro,” he calls, “got any salve? I’m out.” While Kojuro rifles through his pockets to comply, Masamune strolls over and smacks Yukimura’s ass. Yukimura yelps, which is something Sasuke hasn’t heard him do for at least eight years, and says something about behavior that is most ungentlemanly in such a place as this, but frankly Sasuke’s trying not to listen too hard.
Kojuro hands a small jar to Masamune, who thanks him and then peels back his collar to reveal a spread of hickeys that look almost like tactical markers, surrounding his neck with the rear guard holding its position under Masamune’s collarbones.
Well, what do you know. Sasuke’s impressed in spite of himself.
“You know, I think I like the hospitality in Kai,” Masamune says, rubbing the balm on his bruises. “Might have to go on more of these diplomatic things myself, you know?”
“I am certain that His Lordship would be honored to receive you,” Yukimura says, and for once his brain seems to catch up with his mouth, because his cheeks tinge red.
Masamune grins. “His Lordship, huh?”
“Master,” Sasuke says, on his last nerve, “next time, please, go to Oshu instead.”
***