[fanfic] Bound

Fandom: Kamen Rider Decade/Samurai Sentai Shinkenger

Pairing: Daishuuryou!Tsuka/Shiba Takeru

Rating: R

Warning: AU, BL, OOC, might NSFW

Disclaimer: I do not own anything and/or anyone. The silver chain thing is snatched from Stardust.

Note: Written in English, unbeta so please forgive the grammar error, typo and everything.

For Anne. This is supposed to be my share in exchange of you donating for Japan some time ago. Sorry, no throne!pr0n :p 

He hardly can remember the first time he was brought to the castle. Or why he was brought to the castle. He can only remember that there was a war -a dragging and frustrating one, but war is always like that, right? The reason for the war is already become so vague. He thinks that it was suppose to be between them and Chimatsuri Doukoku's side but then another party was coming in. A rider, or something, with his friends and then there was another bunch of people under Daishuuryou banner or something and then the rider was caught and then he became their leader and everything turned in to a blur. If someone asked him to draw a map of event, Takeru might as well commit suicide.

All he knows is that he is now a prisoner in this castle. It has been for a length of time. Maybe a year or maybe a couple of weeks or maybe merely days. The castle’s dungeon is closed and solid with no windows. Takeru knows this only by the appearance of the cell he is locked in. It’s dark -a candle is all that spare him from total darkness. He can hear sobs and a couple of time, screams. He suspects he also hears scratching sound. It’s all unnerving and almost drives him to madness. 

They don’t treat him badly. They feed him a loaf of bread and water. Standard procedure to keep a prisoner alive, Takeru thinks gravely. But he really can’t complain, right? Takeru sits still in a meditating pose. Eyes closed, he tries to remember his retainers, no, friends’ faces. Jii’s face. Replaying their voices, laughs, the quiet busy bustling of the kurokos. Sometimes, if he felt he has the strength, Takeru will do some training with imagery sword. That calms him. Sort of. At least he hasn’t gone mad. Or so he hopes.

They move him from the dungeon. Takeru doesn’t ask why. Perhaps it’s best not to ask questions. Still, he is scared as to where they are bringing him. The corridor is long and unwinding. Doors, guards, more doors, more guards, people moving, another doors and guards. His vision is blurry. Perhaps they will bring him to trial (on what ground, he doesn’t know) or perhaps they will send him to death right away. 

They send him to what seems like a servant quarter, instead. He can see better now. Solemn but terrified expressions, bowed heads, matching dust colored tunics, and the sound of chains rattling. They are bound around their feet. They hand him to two servants, commanding them to take care of him. Takeru can’t think.

The servants bring him to another room. They release him from the chain around his wrist and ankles. They undress him. “What?” Takeru can hear himself blurts the question. One of the servant only smiles at him. The other snorts. “Consider yourself lucky,” he says. Takeru can feel a frown takes residence on his forehead.

“Why?” he asks again.

“You’re to serve Daishuuryou-sama, you idiot.” The reply is far from what he is expecting. But Takeru doesn’t ask anymore. He feels dizzy. He suspects the scent of the incense causes it. It smells sweet. Too sweet Takeru feels nauseous. And then they bathe him; they put him into a large tub. The water is hot and scented like grass and honey. It’s frustratingly comfortable. They scrub every dirt from his body, they wash his hair, and before he knows it, Takeru already dress in a piece of yukata. 

Silk, Takeru feels with his palm. They put another chain on him but it’s different from the previous. This one is so thin and made of silver. It binds beautifully around his left ankle, like a jewel. But it can not be broken. Takeru tries several time after the servants left him alone in another room. The chain breaks easily but quickly joins itself while the other end is tied to a column. Takeru suspects it’s no use trying to break that end either.

He waits. Quite a long time before someone arrives with his food. No more bread and water but he gets a full course menu. He finds himself hungry. Very hungry he finishes the food in a blink of an eye. And then he falls asleep. It seems that no one comes for him while he is sleeping. Another portion of food replaces the ones he finishes earlier. Takeru eats them as well. And then he goes back to sleep.

Three days and Takeru finds his strength again. The chain let him goes wherever he wants to go but still remains unbroken. Takeru starts to consider it as a part of his own body. It’s no use to fight it. Takeru tries to go out of the room. The door is unlocked but there are guards outside. One kicks him, sending him flying back into the room. His fellow guard scolds him, reminding him that he will face a dire consequent if ever their lord finds out that the prisoner is injured. Takeru never tries to go out again. 

He meditates again, trying to find a peace of mind, if he can or if there’s such thing as peace of mind now. He practices. They are kind to give him a wooden sword this time. They bathe him twice a day, feed him thrice a day, let him go to the lavatory whenever he feels the need to. But nothing is said or related to him about anything. They said he is about to serve Daishuuryou-sama but who is this Daishuuryou-sama? If he is about to serve this Daishhuuryou-sama, why they keep him in this room -Takeru considers it as another shape of a prison cell- instead of giving him something to do? 

He asks for paper and brush and some ink. Maybe practising his calligraphy can be a new and nice distraction for him as well as a good training for his mojikara. But they don’t give him that. They know. Takeru feels a little dejected but he stays silent and practice with his sword again.

He is summoned on the tenth day he is in that room. They bathe him again, this time with water scented of lavender and musk. Smooth and very sexy. Takeru doesn’t bother. They put a nicer yukata on him. Still made of silk but of finer quality and red in color. They bring him to another room. The room is so big and vast but unlike the other part of the castle, this room is so bright. A big window at the end of the room causes this. Takeru can only see the sky from where he is standing and judging from the strong breeze, this room is located on a high level, very high level.

There is a bed. A huge four posted bed in the middle of the room. It is made of hard charcoal wood. The sheets white while everything else is blood red. Takeru let his fingertips touches the surfaces. Silk, satin and velvet. The daybed near the window is as comfortable. Also black and blood red in color. There is a table in front of it. Full of food and refreshment. Takeru stands still while a guard breaks his chain (it encloses again) and pulls the other end around one of the bed post.

He hears them leave. Alone in the room. This must be someone’s room, Takeru thinks. He remembers his own room back at the Shiba mansion. It only tenth in size but it is one of a few rooms he feels safe inside. This room is strange, just like every part of the castle he ever seen. It is so wide but it seems like he can’t touch any end of it even though the chain lets him to. He climbs to the bed, folds himself and sleeps.

When he opens his eyes again, it’s already dark outside but someone has lit the candles inside the room. It’s almost romantic but Takeru is frantic because his hands are now raised above his head, tied securely around the bed posts with the silver chain. To his horror, there is someone beside him.

Takeru frowns. He feels like he knows this man but he can be wrong. “Who are you?” he whispers, a little bit shaky but Takeru can care any less.

The man lays beside him, head propped on one hand while his other hand plays with a length of the silver chain. He cocks an eyebrow to Takeru and smiles wryly at him. “Tsk, it’s very rude not knowing the name of the man you are suppose to serve, ShinkenRed-san.”

“......................Daishuuryou-sama?”

The man nods. 

“You look like someone I know.”

“There is only one me.”

Takeru doesn’t answer that. 

“Do you know why you are brought here, ShinkenRed-san?”

“I do not know many things anymore.” Takeru admits.

Daishuuryou smiles. “Wise answer. Suitable for a lord.”

It sounds like a mockery. A familiar mockery.

Daishuuryou shifts closer. He reaches out, doing something with the bound above Takeru’s head. Takeru lets himself being pulled up and dragged to sit on the man’s lap. He is naked. They are naked. How he just realizes it now, he doesn’t know. The silver chain binds his wrists together, also around their waists. Takeru looks at the man, confuse in his eyes.

“They say I am to serve you.” he whispers. Daishuuryou’s skin is cold. Takeru shivers when he touches him.

“Your friends are dead.” Daishuuryou studies his prisoner’s face for a while. Takeru shows no emotion. He only nods his head a little. Daishuuryou moves and smiles a cocky smile when Takeru gasps.

Takeru takes a deep breath. He shifts closer to the man. The pain is excruciating but he is used to pain. This is nothing than the sudden emptiness that takes over him at the moment. “Has the war ended?”

“I do not like to explain things.” He moves again, sending Takeru to writhes and whimpers. He looks at Takeru’s flushed face and slips some strands of hair behind Takeru’s ear. He kisses the ear and whispers a suggestion so logical and tempting. 

“Forget everything.”

A thrust. Takeru gasps sharply.

“You are bound to me.”

Takeru knows that. He takes a breath. Deeply. Something crawls inside of him and Takeru shakes his head, trying to resist, trying to hold it inside of him but desperately. He knows he is loosing. He moves his head, searching, and finds the other man’s eyes. Devious, passionate, evil, fragile. 

Takeru shakes his head again. He is sobbing now. Not loudly but sad and torn. Daishuuryou kisses him. On his eyes, the tip of his nose, his cheeks and on his lips. 

It breaks loose. 

“...........Tsukasa.”