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The symbol shimmers as it floats in front of Takeru. Heat distorts his vision as he struggles to place the strokes. Sweat collects on his face, dripping past his eyebrows and into his eyes. He blinks away the salty water and his hand falters.
The symbol fades and the heat goes with it. He sighs and wipes the sweat from his face. More droplets form on his skin before he can remove the first wave.
Heat. A useful symbol. Fire without destruction. Less volatile, and easier to combine with other attacks. But difficult. So many strokes. With each line, the heat rose. Even if he finished the symbol, he's not sure how he'll keep it up. The power is dizzying. The drain on his energy from the heat alone leaves him exhausted after only a few tries.
He wipes away the new layer of sweat and closes his eyes. He practiced the shape of the kanji hundreds of times in preparation for this experiment. He could do it with his eyes closed.
"Careful."
Takeru opens his eyes. Spots dance in his vision and he needs to squint to see the man leaning on the fence surrounding the training grounds.
"Keep this heat up and you'll end up cooking my sushi," Genta says with a big laugh, "But then it wouldn't be sushi anymore and that'd be bad for business."
"Move your cart if you're worried," Takeru rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.
Genta grins back at him but makes no move to leave.
"I came out here alone for a reason," Takeru says, wiping another layer of sweat off his forehead, "This is dangerous."
"That's why I'm here." Genta looks around at all the trees surrounding them. They're out of sight of the main house and it's a distance to walk. Seven and half minutes, at Takeru's usual pace. "I was talking to Jii about safety. He said there were wards all round the training areas so I won't damage anything if I misfire, but if there's something real dangerous I wanna test, it's best to come out here."
"Jii put you up to this?"
Genta grimaces. "Nah," he sighs dramatically, "He only told me all that because he was tryin' to get rid of me."
"So why are you here?" Takeru relaxes. He goes to grab his water bottle. As he bends down, his head spins and he stumbles.
"I wanted to know why you were goin' off by yourself again," Genta says. His eyes narrow as Takeru stands, shifting on his feet as his heart pounds in his ears.
"The same reason Jii told you." Takeru takes a long drink of water. It was sorely needed. Instinct tells him to drain the whole container, but he knows that won't help. The body can only absorb so much liquid at once and he doesn't want to go back to the main house for more. He closes his bottle at looks pointedly at Genta. "I'm testing out a new symbol. A dangerous one."
The unsubtle hint bounces off Genta. Settling on the fence, he grins at Takeru. "All the more reason for me to stay."
"All the more reason for you to stay a safe distance away," Takeru clarifies bluntly.
"Okay!" Genta answers without dropping his smile. "What's safe?"
"Go back to the house."
Genta shakes his head. "If it's dangerous, then you need someone nearby to help if it goes wrong."
Takeru's stomach churns as he glares at his old friend. He knows he's lost. Genta is too stubborn. Once he digs into a decision, any attempt to change his mind will only dig him deeper.
"Stay on the other side of the fence. And move back if it becomes too much."
Genta hops off the fence, shooting a cheeky salute at Takeru.
Takeru ignores it and goes back to the symbol. He closes his eyes and lifts his brush in front of him. Spots dance over the back of his eyelids as he grips the sodophone firm. Fifteen strokes total.
The first attempt is a failure from the first stroke. He tries to correct it, but it's useless.
Waving that attempt away he tries again. Farther this time, but his brain won't connect with his hand and he messes up again.
The third time is good. He goes slow, with firm, deliberate lines. With every stroke, power courses through him, the magic flowing through his brush searching for his goal. His strokes are fine, but he feels the power flowing in the wrong direction.
He repeats his goal in his mind. Some samurai texts say it helps, some say it's useless, but it grounds him. With each stroke, the purpose becomes clearer. By stroke eleven it understands what he wants.
Heat builds as he prepares to make the final strokes. Four short lines. That's all he needs to finish the kanji.
One, a burst of heat slams into his face. Sweat drips over his eyes as he squeezes them shut.
Two, even hotter. His legs shake and his thoughts slow.
Three, the sweat evaporates off his skin, exposing his skin directly to the dry blistering heat.
One more.
His hand moves. All it takes is one more flick of the wrist and he can direct the heat away from himself.
"Takeru!"
Genta's voice is close. Too close. What is he doing so close?
The heat is gone, Takeru realizes. And his shodophone is no longer in his hand. And he's no longer standing.
He opens his eyes and the world is sideways. He's on the ground. His right shoulder hurts where it's pressed against the ground.
"Takeru!"
Takeru's world rights itself as he's pulled up by familiar hands. His neck won't support the weight of his head and it slumps forward, his chin hitting his chest.
"This is exactly why I had to stay," Genta sounds more exasperated than scared. That's good. It means it's not serious.
"Don't they teach you about heat exhaustion in your fancy samurai classes?" Genta flicks Takeru's throbbing head.
"Of course," Takeru's words melt in his mouth. His tongue feels like lead. He's not sure if anything he says is understandable. "I had water."
"It's about more than that." Genta sighs. Cool air washes over Takeru. There's a fan in Genta's hand. "Water's necessary of course, but if you're planning on being in the heat all day you've got to have a plan. And you've gotta take breaks. Especially if you don't have any shade."
Takeru rolls his eyes. "I've barely been out here an hour."
"I've worked some grueling days, but I've never felt heat like that." Genta clicks his tongue chidingly. He runs a calloused thumb over Takeru's cheek. "Look at you, your skin's cracked and peeling."
"I can handle it." Takeru's already fuzzy brain spins and he almost throws up. He swats Genta's hand away and hides his face.
"You couldn't even handle doing my job for one day." Genta laughs. "Let alone do that mid-battle."
"That a challenge?" Takeru says, staring back in the direction of home. It'll be a long trek back when he's feeling this bad. His pulse pounds in his ears as Genta shifts next to him.
"Another day." Genta claps him on the back. "Might do you good. Get away from everyone, from all the responsibility. Talk to people who’ve never heard of the Shiba clan."
It does sound nice. Or it would if Takeru's head would stop spinning. Shade will help. He tries to stand, but his legs don't support his weight.
Collapsing back, he lets out a deep sigh that's interrupted by arms lifting him up. The world spins and he loses all sense of direction as Genta hefts him up and over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"You need shade," Genta says as he stands, Takeru draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "And you're not going to get there by yourself."
Takeru grumbles halfheartedly, more focused on pushing down the nausea as his head hangs down. It's undignified.
"What were you expecting, lord?" Genta asks as if reading his mind. He hefts Takeru as he walks to the edge of the clearing. "Did you want me to get you a palanquin? Or carry you like a delicate princess?"
"A little respect would be nice," Takeru says, his arms dangling down. Blood rushes to his head as he hangs limply.
"You don't want that." Genta laughs. "You get plenty of that from everyone else."
Takeru doesn't respond. Genta's right. He knows he's right.
Once they're in the shade, Genta lowers Takeru, propping him up against an old tree.
"Thank you," Takeru says. He closes his eyes and lets the cool shade wash over him.
"Of course, my lord." Genta bows exaggeratedly and Takeru laughs.
It's nice, sitting in the shade with his oldest friend. No one around to reprimand him for slacking off. No one around to judge the way his eyes trace Genta's kind face.
Genta notices his attention and moves closer. "Here's the thing I don't get," he says, leaning against the tree next to Takeru, "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"
"I only came up with the idea last week." Their shoulders press together as Takeru looks out at the training area. As his brain recalibrates, he notices that a huge patch of grass in the center is withered and dead. He makes a note to come back when he has strength and regrow the grass. "I rarely tell people my ideas until after I've tested them."
"That's not what I meant." Genta laughs again, but softer, fonder.
"What did you mean?"
"Why didn't you tell me about this place? Close enough that we could sneak away, but far away enough that we wouldn't be bothered. It's perfect."
"It wouldn't have worked when we were kids," Takeru points out, "Jii would have noticed immediately and sent the Kuroko to watch us."
"Think they're watching us now?" Genta is even closer now. He leans against Takeru, almost whispering in his ear.
"No." Takeru knows. He always knows when he's being watched. Or he can tell when no one is watching him. Being watched is his norm, it's the absence of eyes that puts him off balance. "With six of us here, the focus isn't all on me anymore."
"Good."
"Why?"
Rough lips press against Takeru's mouth and he freezes. Genta smiles and pulls away. "Oblivous to the very end, eh?"
"Oh..." Clarity washes over Takeru as a thousand confusing interactions between him and Genta click into place. Oblivious is the right word.
Genta kisses him again. It's longer the second time, slower. Takeru's heart beats like a jackhammer as Genta's hand presses into the back of his neck, pulling him in. He makes a sound, a plea for more, he thinks, but even he doesn't know.
Genta releases him, but Takeru doesn't want it to end. He chases the man's lips. And he gets another kiss for his effort, but only one. Genta presses a firm hand to his chest, forcing Takeru back against the tree.
"Water," Genta says firmly, holding up Takeru's bottle, "We should get back. If I keep you too long Jii'll get suspicious, and I don't want to lose our only chance of privacy before I get to take advantage of it."