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mayhemandtrouble · 1 year

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Relationships: Main Character (Sakura Amidst Chaos)/Naoe Kanetsugu, Naoe Kanetsugu/Original Character(s) Characters: Chef MC, Uesugi Kenshin, Naoe Kanetsugu, Ai - Character, Higuchi Yoshichi, Amakasu Kagetsugu Chapter 1 is SFW, Chapter 2 and 3 (on Ao3) are not - Kanetsugu plays rough, detailed tags on Ao3. First time trying to post a fic on here so hopefully I didn’t fuck up the editing too badly lol <3

The battle had exhausted them all, as it always did. The sort of tiredness that seeped into your bones and made old wounds play up, forgetting that they were meant to stay in the past. Despite the lack of sleep and bathing, victory sweetened their steps as the forces returned to Echigo. Growing ever closer to every loved one they fought to protect.

Naoe Kanetsugu barely noted the verbal playing going on amidst the retainers. He even managed to put from his mind the carefree observations of Lord Kenshin, who always found some fluffy cloud or floating leaf to remark upon as though it were the gods themselves. Soon the gates would open and his daughter Ai would come running towards him. He would scold her, and for once his words wouldn’t have any bite to them.

Standing behind her, blending in with the other servants would be Mitsu. The city raised commoner from Kyoto had formed a tight bond with the little girl despite the class difference, and so it was only fitting that she would be there to greet the samurai lords on their return. As a function of watching over Ai, not awaiting any particular man.

“Are you worried she won’t be glad to see you?”

“Ai will probably get trampled trying to get to us.” Kanetsugu snorted in a dismissive reply to his Lord’s concern. He ought to be more respectful, but the way the blonde man hovered with a tender heart was worse than biting flies in summer.

“He’s not talking about Ai.” Kagie smirked, the ninja delighting in how Yoshichi’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Then who..” But the younger Naoe brother could only trail off, watching Kanetsugu urge his horse into a quicker pace simply to escape the bunch of them. Nothing but ninnies and idle gossips and he had much more pressing matters. Battle did not destroy the paperwork that would have built up in his absence, nor release one from the obligations of family. Still, Kanetsugu felt his mood improving as the gates came into focus. Choosing to focus on that and not that he was looking forward to the smiles from *both* of the women in his life.

It was simply an accident, and no one could be sure if that made it better or worse. Poison left out for the rats and vermin had contaminated some of the rice flour Mitsu was working with. Noting the odd consistency, the cook had sampled it as a matter of course.

That was the report given to the Lords as Kenshin, Kanetsugu and Yoshichi raced to Mitsu’s chamber. Ai would not leave the ailing woman’s side, and her cries filled the halls well before Mitsu’s door came into view. Even with that warning, the scene they beheld was somehow more jarring than the battle they had come from.

A healer from a nearby village was attempting to coax some black colored liquid between Mitsu’s lips. The patient was awake, though her face seemed so utterly devoid of color that Kanetsugu was not sure at first if she was even alive. But her lashes fluttered, eyes trying to focus on the three newcomers.

How did she look thin already? It was only meant to have happened this morning, she couldn’t possibly have lost weight already, could she? Perhaps it was his imagination, Kanetsugu was used to seeing her fully dressed, bustling about a kitchen or laughing in the gardens with Ai. Not in a thin sleeping robe, with her hair poorly braided over a shoulder. Mitsu was a flower in full bloom, with warm smiles and comfortable curves that made it easy for Ai to doze in her lap.

Of course the child was not sleeping now. She was stubbornly burrowed into Mitsu’s bedding, arms wrapped around the woman while the patient’s fingers slowly stroked through the girl’s hair in a soothing motion. Seeming to recognize the Lords, Mitsu moved to sit up presentably.

The effort spurred all to action. Ai turned in the bedding, seeing her beloved Papa and letting out a fresh howl. Kenshin was quickly behind Mitsu, easing the woman into a sitting position and running a hand along her shoulders to offer comfort. Yoshichi, who had been frozen in place, darted forward to scoop Ai up from the futon. Ignoring the bruises and wounds of war to comfort his niece as she snotted on his armor. Kanetsugu turned sharply on the healer, with a dark sheen to his gaze. He wanted to know everything, every last detail and he *would* have it.

By the time Kanetsugu was satisfied, Yoshichi had managed to ease Ai from the chamber and Kenshin had coaxed Mitsu into a fitful sleep against his shoulder. Though Kanetsugu commended the healer, he also sent for several books from his personal library - not content to trust only in one man’s experience. Turning back to Mitsu’s futon, Kanetsugu found his lips thinning into a scowl at the Lord slowly plaiting her silky hair.

“This is not a time to be playing, Lord Kenshin! You will have to attend to matters of state on your own for once while I sort out this hell.” Coming to stand beside the futon, he glared furiously at his Lord until Kenshin began to lower Mitsu back down.

“Be gentle, or you will upset our little one.” Kenshin scolded kindly, smoothing a stray wisp of her dark hair from her features. “She is struggling enough as it is.”

“And we’d have arrived sooner if not for someone wanting to chase butterflies. Get to your office, I have my hands full! It will not be long before Ai outsmarts her fool Uncle.”

The bickering caused Mitsu’s eyelids to flutter again as Kenshin but it was Kanetsugu who knelt and laid a hand atop her shoulder. Kenshin noted, with a wry smile, that the patient seemed to ease for the first time, under the touch of “demon” of Echigo.

“Take care of her, Kanetsugu.” The verbal attacks barely registered with Kenshin. He would have preferred to stay and tend to her himself, but he had never seen Kanetsugu quite like this. Settling down, the demon showed no sign of leaving. Until now, there was only one person who could distract Kanetsugu from the mountains of letters and deluge of policy.

The other Lord did not answer, only tilting his face down to the resting woman. He would have only a few minutes before his books arrived. By his estimate, it would not be long after that when Ai would rejoin them. Kageie might come by in the evening. Kagetsugu would possibly venture by with tea and origami for luck, all of Echigo was fond of the cook.

Under normal circumstances, it did not bother him. It was not as though she was his to claim but he supposed he had a right of sorts. Ai had very much taken to her as a mother, and so she was often a part of his days. It was therefore only natural that he should be protective of her now, when she was weak. A lowly type of man might do any sort of thing, whisper all sorts of deceit, when her guard was so low. Still, as he watched Kenshin step through the door, Kanetsugu found himself relieved that Mitsu had no suitor, no one he would have to tolerate as he oversaw her recovery.

Eying the fanciful plaiting that Kenshin had left behind, his lips thinned. Did the man not understand that he must act responsibly even at the most serious of times? Without thought, Kanetsugu reached out to run his fingers through her strands. It eased him to see the other man’s work slide out of place. A sensation barely given thought before he turned, greeting the page who arrived with the required books.

“You don’t have to stay.” Her voice was barely there, Mitsu hated the sound of it. Patchy in volume and what could be heard seemed to creak like a toad. She barely understood what Lord Kanetsugu had presented as a soothing remedy. Only that it was sweet and eased her throat, his calloused thumb gently stroking her cheek as she drank it.

“I am a father, I know how these things are.” With an uncharacteristically gentle voice, he crouched beside her. Brushing her hair back, Kanetsugu began to wrap a dark blue hair cord around the silky locks. Soothing her while Mitsu braced herself on the strong wood of a bucket, her body ridding itself of every last thing she had consumed in the past day. Perhaps longer, judging by the violent shaking of her body as the medicine did its work.

*I am not your daughter!* Mitsu wished to scream the words but couldn’t find the energy, let alone spare it. It was miserable enough to be enduring this, why did he have to be witness? Beholding her at her worst, sick and wretched and he made it all the worse by reminding her of the truth. Naoe Kanetsugu would never see her as a woman, not the sort he would reach for at any rate.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed of.”

His touch was nearly torture, calloused fingers oh so sweetly setting her hair to rights. A simple style that pulled her long locks back in a tidy coif, keeping them out of danger and easing her struggle slightly. Turning her head to the side, she let her cheek rest against the edge of the bucket.

He was handsome, even looking at her in concern. Brown hair that reminded her of properly cooked manju, with that lovely chestnut color at the top. Strong shoulders that carried armor and his daughter with equal ease, Lord Kanetsugu seemed a figure from a story. Perhaps especially for the kind worry in his eyes. It made Mitsu’s heart ache for the wishes she ought not to be making, and so she closed her eyes to keep them hidden.

“Don’t be afraid.”

His voice was so much closer than she expected. Had he moved silently or did she simply lack awareness? Did it matter, she certainly had no strength to answer him or try to explain that her pain had a different source. No one could be expected to endure such physical and emotional torment all at once. Yet, just as she was considering begging him to leave, a soft warmth on her brow silenced her every thought. Her eyes opened just in time to watch Kanetsugu settle back onto his heels.

“Focus on your recovery.”

Despite the amusement in his voice, Lord Kanetsugu’s orders could never be disobeyed. And so her eyes closed again, shifting her thoughts away from emotional turmoil.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her, even if it was a fairly chaste touch of lips to her forehead. Kanetsugu sighed inwardly as he tucked Mitsu in a little more. The poor woman had exhausted herself in the name of treatment, but surely she was rid of the poison by now. He had prepared her a strong tea and she had kept down a little rice before falling asleep.

It wasn’t hard to tell she fretted over being seen during her weakness, and the kiss had been an impulse to reassure her. No one, not even the God of War, could escape brushes with undignified illness and remedy. Kanetsugu had watched over so many sick beds, from Kenshin to Ai to his sister, who had birthed Ai.

The last had been the hardest, with Ai barely old enough to understand but crying as though her tears could bring mother back to health. He had comforted the poor thing and it was during that in which the decision was quietly made amid the family. Ai would be Kanetsugu’s to raise.

Though some people foolishly spoke of his raising Ai as a sacrifice on his part, in truth the little girl made his day-to-day life infinitely easier. For all his strengths as a Lord and Kenshin’s retainer, Kanetsugu failed in equal measure when it matters of the heart. Ai was used as an adorable shield, deflecting any Clan pressure to marry while pushy would-be brides were dissuaded through being utterly ignored. Very few things could hope to pry what spare time he had away from his daughter.

Yet here he was. Gently wiping the brow of a cook who was sidestepping death as best she could. In some ways, this was easier than trying to speak to Mitsu in the gardens. Here, he knew what to do. The risk of losing her was terrifying, but once Kanetsugu and the healer had determined her treatment, there was no uncertainty. His tasks were to wipe her brow, speak soothingly, ensure she rested and send for the healer once there was change.

Among the flowers, it was a struggle to find proper words. Harder still to shift through his turbulent emotions. How when she smiled for him, her eyes so warm and carefree, Kanetsugu wanted to spirit her away, keeping her laughter all to himself and utterly *ruin* her. How was a man meant to go about tender words and poetry when all his thoughts were bent around making her forget the existence of any other.

A quiet shuffling at the door drew his attention away from self disgust, the barest flicking of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Leaning back from Mitsu, Kanetsugu wrung out the cloth high above the bowl of water, letting the drops create a music that would carry through the quiet night. He knew those footfalls better than any other.

“Come in.”

No sooner had Papa softly spoken than Ai had darted through the door, barely sliding it closed behind her. Arriving at Mitsu’s futon quicker than a mouse darting about a kitchen floor, Ai had her sandals off and was burrowing into the futon before Kanetsugu fully registered his daughter’s intent. It was hard to keep from chuckling, especially as Mitsu roused enough to wrap a sleepy arm around the child. Which prompted Ai to look at Papa in childish defiance of decorum.

“I can not fight you both.” Covering his mouth with a broad hand, Kanetsugu fondly watched as Mitsu’s arm gently pulled Ai into a protective embrace - as though she might be plucked away. Though Ai ought to be sitting respectfully at his side, there was little chance of victory. Instead he leaned forward to run a damp cloth along Mitsu’s face. “Let her rest though, Ai.”

“Yes, Papa.” Nestled safely against Mitsu’s side, Ai could hear the other’s heartbeat, feel her chest rise and fall. It was so much easier to be patient and wait now, when every second brought confirmation that all was well. Easier still with the comfort of Papa’s voice and Mitsu’s arms.

Later, when Ai was older, she would look back and realize that Papa must have known she would come during the night. It was not long at all before Kanetsugu produced a volume of stories, promising to keep reading until the little girl fell asleep. It was quintessentially her Papa, a gruff man with endless patience for his daughter. He always seemed prepared to weather any disaster and shoulder any burden.

“Is she going to go away, like Mama?” His daughter’s voice was soft, barely audible, and it broke Kanetsugu’s heart to hear it. Ai’s large eyes were on the cook’s sleeping face. Mitsu had not lost any further color, but she had yet to actually improve either. Father and daughter were taking poor comfort in the woman’s deep slumber.

“I will not allow it.” He would almost certainly never find the courage to recite poetry to Mitsu, but if he must hold her to this world through strength of will, Kanetsugu would. Balancing the book carefully in one hand, he made his way closer to the futon. Resuming when he was close enough to gently stroke his free hand through Ai’s hair, lulling her to sleep. Every few moments, he glanced over to ensure Mitsu was still sleeping. Then would ghost his fingers over her brow before returning to Ai.

Aware but not aware, Mitsu knew the sound of Lord Kanetsugu’s voice and the smell of Ai’s hair. Comforting in her weak misery, she let her mind drift in and out of consciousness while her body struggled to recover. Sometimes, she thought she felt a calloused thumb stroking along her face but could not muster the willpower to open her eyes.

In these late hours of the evening, utterly spent from malady and treatment, Mitsu wrapped an arm around Ai. The sturdy little frame was an anchor to life itself, while the soft tenor in the background was hope. As the hours passed into morning, she woke from time to time. Once, just when the sun was beginning to creep into the sky, Mitsu rose slightly in the futon.

Ai was still curled against her side, and having a fitful dream by the look of it. Lord Kanetsugu had fallen asleep mid-story, by the looks of it. His head tilted to the side, with the book partially fallen from his lap, one hand on the pages and other resting against his thigh.

It was a rare look at what Lord Kanetsugu looked like, with all his masks and manners set aside. As Mitsu settled back down into the bedding, she wondered if it was something a wife or lover might see often. A certain jealousy at the mere thought began to flare but had to be roughly pushed aside. A respected samurai lord doesn’t take a commoner cook to wife - that sort of thing only happens in stories and she lacked the emotional fortitude for self-torturing fantasy at the moment. Mitsu had a beautiful bond with Ai, and sometimes was able to see the man through his daughter’s eyes.

It was not what she wanted. But it would be enough. It had to be.

Recovery came too slowly for anyone’s comfort, but it did come. Lord Kanetsugu barely left her side, and Ai had to be prodded and coaxed away for lessons and walks in the sunshine. And though Mitsu had been spoiled by his presence, she had been too focused on recovery to realize just how much Kanetsugu had been putting off for her sake.

It was only when Mitsu was up and moving under her own power, laughingly inserting herself back into the kitchen before Kanetsugu thought it wise, that life began to return to normal in Kasugayama. Though Lord Kenshin continued to encourage her to rest, Mitsu busied herself with cooking and making sweets for everyone as thanks. Ai alternated between trailing behind Mitsu and her father, still unsettled by the entire ordeal.

Lord Kanetsugu was the only one who Mitsu had not been able to properly thank. While the Lord had ordered the most pressing of work brought to Mitsu's room, working where he could monitor her, the poor man had barely stepped out of his office in over a week. When Mitsu did see him, it was only briefly and with Ai holding onto her sleeves and that did not feel the right time.

In the dying sunlight, she eyed herself in a small mirror of polished bronze. It was hard to tell if she had done it to underline her sincere thankfulness, or simply because she wished for the Lord to see her as a woman, but Mitsu had taken her time in dressing. Things she would usually forgo in deference to the realities of working in a kitchen, such as a light dusting of powder to accentuate her complexion and a touch of rouge for her lips.

All told, Mitsu found the effect rather pretty, especially with the care she had taken in brushing out her long hair till it shone. Hopefully Lord Kanetsugu would think the same, and not regard her as a child playing with fineries she had no business with. It still hurt that the hairpin Father gave her was broken, she would have liked to wear it for luck.

Though, as she piled a tray with sweets and tea, Mitsu had to admit to herself she didn’t have the slightest clue what she was hoping for. Perhaps it would be enough simply to have tea with him, or he might let her sit and read by lantern light while he finished his work.

#canon typical angst #smut #naoe kanetsugu #slbp kanetsugu #angst #fluff #I have no idea how post this shit on here #fanfic #slbp fanfic

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