The first wave of Lord Hatori's men had begun to fill the room. As far as Shion understood it, Lord Teru had direct command of this section, who kept the same schedule of practice and meals and were generally clustered together. Three of these sections were each given to a lieutenant, of which there were four altogether, with Yuma seeming to hold precedence over the others. The concept of 'rank' and 'status' were synonymous to Shion, but apparently among the samurai there were finer points of distinction he hadn't been able to grasp and didn't particularly wish to.

Kamui's men had been split apart and re-allocated to these sections, in hopes of bringing the two groups together, but in the evenings, when they could move freely, they found their way back to each other, forming a protective boundary between the men Hatori had brought with them and the bedridden Toshiwara.

Shion found himself awaiting Lord Teru's arrival far more anxiously than usual, not because he'd been left alone with the soldiers, to whom he'd mostly grown accustomed, but because he sensed that something indelible had changed in the relationship between them.

"I had my first glimpse of Lord Hatori's little doll today. He was dressed in yellow silk and wearing enough gold our wives would have been envious."

"I have absolutely no idea what has possessed him to put up a boy in that way. Is he even old enough to-?"

"Hard to say, although I suspect he would look older if he were wearing more appropriate clothes."

Someone snorted disdainfully. "He would look older if the man beside him did not have forty years over and above him."

"You have thirty years over your young bride," someone else chided.

"What of it?" Everyone but the first man laughed.

Shion leaned his head back and closed his eyes. *Hatori's little doll.* So that was what they called him. At least it seemed that Kagamine was being suitably spoiled.

"Have you become lost in your thoughts again, Shion?"

Teru's voice startled him. He opened his eyes to find the man smiling down at his upturned face.

"I have much to think about, my lord."

"Careful. If you stray too far in your thoughts, you may never return." The man handed him a plate of food before settling down on the blanket beside him. "Have you heard anything interesting?"

"Some of the men were talking about having seen Kagamine."

"What did they say?"

"They were remarking on his fine dress and the difference in his and Lord Hatori's ages." Shion sighed. "I do not know the boy very well, but part of me wonders if he could ever be truly happy with such an arrangement. I worry what will happen if he is not."

"It is yet too soon to know."

Teru was right. It probably was. Lord Hatori had only just arrived there, after all.

"Is that all?"

Shion nodded.

For a while they sat eating together in silence. His furtive glances, however, were probably telling Lord Teru everything he could ever possibly wish to know.

"Your poetry," Shion finally murmured, "was beautiful. Thank you for lending it to me."

"I would like for you to keep it."

For a moment, he was stunned. He stared down at the floor.

"The verse form is called tanka. I learned it while I was in the capital, many years ago, and I wrote many bad examples which are best forgotten."

Shion gave him a shy, glancing smile. "That is difficult to imagine, my lord."

"It would be difficult for you to imagine many things about that time, Shion." Teru sighed, leaning back against the wall as he often did whenever he allowed himself to be at ease. "Yuma and I were sent there together, to-" he cleared his throat meaningfully, "-complete our education. No doubt our relatives thought we would keep each other in check, but we were both young, and the temptations of such a place are great." He smiled, a little ruefully. "We only tried to outdo each other, in all the worst ways. To this day I take consolation in the fact that Yuma's poetry was always worse than mine. It was one of only a handful of things I have ever been able to best him at."

Something about this story felt warm and intimate, even if Shion found it altogether unrelatable. He gave Lord Teru a soft, though somewhat vacant, smile.

"You are always so quiet, Shion." The man's eyes searched out his expression, observant as always. "It makes you seem very mysterious."

"I never know quite what to say, my lord." Shion stared back again at the floor. "I have never had a friendly rival, nor have I ever left this province."

"Then- have you ever read poetry before?"

He nodded, lifting his head. "A merchant fell very ill once while traveling through here when I was perhaps fourteen. He had developed sores and a peculiar disfigurement, and my master, either because he was disgusted with the man's appearance or else because he feared contagion, sent me to tend to him instead. I spent two weeks with him, feeding him and washing him as well as bringing my master's medicines. He was very grateful. He knew he was going to die, and I was the only one who would talk to him or come anywhere near him at all. The man allowed me to select one of his wares before he sent the rest away-"

Shion's voice trailed off. Lord Teru reached to brush the hot tears sliding down his cheeks away.

"I could have chosen anything, my lord. There were all manner of expensive and valuable things, but nothing was more beautiful to me than the words I found among them. The merchant said the world would have been better if all men had the courage to make such a choice. His words- I will never forget them. I was reading it to him when he took his final breath."

It was a depressing story, but Teru's attention seemed thoroughly absorbed.

"I didn't know what his sickness was at the time, but later I discovered he'd contracted baidoku. That was why my master had refused to see him. He said it was his own fault." Shion shook his head. "That man- was kind. I really liked him. My master burned the text he gave me, the thing which had brought him so much comfort and kept him smiling until the last. He said that if I kept reading such useless and frivolous things, I would end up exactly like him-"

Shion wiped at his face with his sleeve.

"All my stories are like this, Lord Teru," he murmured. "Tell me, who would wish to hear them?"

"I, for one, found it poignant and lovely, and also-" The man smiled at him. "Very much like you."

Shion forgot all his tears. He stared back at Teru, completely astonished. This man- was it safe to give him this much control over his heart? Probably not, but-

*The moment you submit to it, acknowledge and accept it, the world as it truly is opens itself up to you.*

"You should prepare to get an early start tomorrow."

"I would much rather sit and talk with you, my lord."

"You would barely speak more than three words to me not so long ago. Do you remember?"

Shion found himself half-blushing. "Perhaps," he began slowly, "my feelings towards you have altered."

The man watched him silently for a moment. The way Teru considered his words before giving breath to them was downright torturous at times.

"My lord, why do you always wait so long before speaking?"

He seemed a little surprised to be asked such a question.

"When one does not know how to respond," he began, "it is better to keep silent than to say something misguided."

"Misguided- how?"

Teru sighed, leaning out over one knee.

"By now I am sure you have noticed. The others think I am entirely cold, that I am incapable of feeling. Even my cousin teases me about it."

Shion shook his head. "That isn't true at all."

"It is a wonder to me that you can say that with such certainty." Teru paused. "What if your assumption is incorrect? If I feel nothing at all, for you or indeed for anyone, it would be extremely unwise for your attitude to have altered so."

The man's eyes were mesmerizing, his insistent voice- it was-

"If you cared nothing for me," Shion answered softly, "you would not take such pains to warn me against you, my lord."

Teru's eyes widened slightly. The faint trace of a smile curled at the edges of his mouth.

Everything had gone silent. Sound existed somewhere beyond them, but Shion could no longer hear it. Somewhere there were throngs of other men, but the two of them existed here, alone. The man's lips parted, and Shion sat breathlessly waiting, but a flicker of doubt chased across Lord Teru's features, and the kiss he so longed for never came.

Shion drew the blanket over his body, sighing. He'd been told to sleep. He would do his best to obey.

He was half-surprised to feel the man settling in beside him. After what had just happened, he hadn't really expected that Lord Teru would wish to-

"You made a response, did you not? The contents of my writing-box were all out of place." A hint of amusement colored Teru's voice. "I would hear it from your own lips."

Shion's face flushed hotly. It seemed he'd been found out.

"Winter surrounds my heart, but-" He sighed, sinking against Lord Teru's body. "I do not wish for springtime."

Those warm arms tightened around him. This man who had always been so modest about his physical abilities was surprisingly strong.

"Thank you," Teru whispered, his hot breath close at Shion's ear. "You did very well."

The mere sound of the man's voice suffused his body with pleasure. The words Lord Teru had written kept chasing each other through Shion's mind. He allowed his mind to wander, surrendering himself up to ecstatic dreams.