Japan, Fall 1876 - Spring 1877

[shiroi_tiger]

Nathan had managed, by some miracle, to keep some lolling sort of semblance of consciousness as the Samurai took him and Tony back to their stronghold in the mountains of Japan. Through some sort of haze, he watched Katsumoto lop off the head of General Hashigawa. The rest, haze. There were moments, when he almost had enough focus to look to make certain that they hadn't disposed of Tony along the way. The trek might have lasted hours, days, might have lasted weeks. And then, they were hauling him from the back of the horse he'd been loaded onto, threatening him, spitting in his face. Demanding his name.

He didn't give it.

Winter was coming. There would be no escaping whatever settlement they'd been dragged to.

And then, the haze turned to bright white swimming behind his eyes, and then to black.

---

Tony	Coming to with a start, Tony automatically grasped at his chest, feeling the phantom wires that would lead to a car battery. Right. Not in a cave. But just as sore, it seemed. "Nathan?" He called, voice raspy.
Nathan	"Tony. You're awake." Stellar observation, Nathan. It had been days, now, since their capture. In that time, they'd been placed under the care of a woman by the name of Taka, who, Katsumoto had revealed to Algren in a rather short, strained 'conversation,' was the wife of the samurai in the red armor. The one that Algren had stabbed in the neck just before they'd been dragged away. Nathan was thankful that Tony was awake and apparently coherent, yes. It had been an... interesting couple of days. There had been nightmares. Screaming. Thirst. An interesting game of charades while trying to convince people he couldn't speak to that Tony's glowing chest-thing absolutely had to stay put. "Have a good nap?"
Tony	Tony just shot him a 'what herbs are you smoking' look before rubbing a few bruises on his forehead with the arm that was cooperating. Arrow was gone, that was so terribly kind of them. And he was glowing. Of course. See, this was why he had his suits specially tailored now when he needed to go out. "About as good as you, I'd wager."
Nathan	"I was stabbed," Nathan shared. Casually. About as casually as was possible for him, all things considered. "Twice. I'm afraid I didn't see what happened to you." Just that one moment, Tony had been hollering over an arrow, and the next, Zeb was dead, and Tony was on the ground. Things had been a bit of a haze, yes.
Tony	"I was trampled by a horse." You jackass was underlying but not said.
Nathan	"Well, that was a stupid thing to do." Yes. Nathan absolutely was a jackass. Why? In fact, he was jackass enough to continue speaking, now. "We're their prisoners," he shared. On the off-chance that perhaps Tony hadn't noticed. "Though it feels almost as though we're their house guests, instead. We're staying with a family." Most of a family. Nathan winced a little at the pang he felt at that.
Tony	"Lovely," Tony replied dryly. "Are they feeding us at least?"
Nathan	"It was the most awkward family dinner I've ever sat through," Nathan agreed. Which meant, of course, that they were.
Tony	"Awkward is better than the alternative," Tony reminded him. Because he didn't know about the killing the father and husband part. Though, even then he may have said it. "Do they have painkillers?"
Nathan	"They have sake. I wouldn't bank on that, mind you." Algren wasn't going to say much more on that, either. There had been a very, very rough night in there when they'd decided he wasn't to have any more. It had involved screaming.
Tony	Tony was almost certain he woke up for part of that and then went right back under where there was less panicking over the cave and Yinsen. "Right." Tony managed to get to his feet, walking toward the surprisingly open door.
Nathan	"Be sure to take off your shoes when you come back in," Algren called after him. "And say 'hi' to the mute man in a skirt if you're planning on heading out." He had to be a prick right now, yes. It beat dwelling too heavily on their current predicament.

---

Nathan	The first time Nathan had handled a sword since their capture, it had been a wooden one, picked up off the ground after one of the boys in the village dropped it during a spar with another. Katsumoto's son, Nobutada, had told him to try. Apparently, Ujio, Katsumoto's second-in-command, wasn't terribly thrilled with the notion. That was the day that Nathan had learned that "katana urusei" translated to "drop the toy sword or else I will beat you to within an inch of your life and leave you bleeding in the mud." Things had gotten better from there, really. There had been more conversations with Katsumoto. The beginnings of comprehension of the language that he and Tony were now surrounded by. Everything about this culture captivated his attention, and he attempted to absorb and comprehend as much of the rhythms of their daily life as he possibly could. Weeks passed. Months. Tony passed the time as he saw fit, and Nathan found himself becoming immersed in the ways of the Japanese people. And, if he did say so himself, he was certainly improving in his swordmanship, now that he wasn't being mercilessly bludgeoned by an angry man he couldn't communicate with, wielding a wooden katana. Ujio and Nobutada were training him, now. And he was finally getting the hang of the concept of 'too many mind.' He was pointedly ignoring that the men on the sidelines were taking bets to see how many moves he'd lose in as he squared off against Ujio once again, yes.
Tony	Which was good because Tony was busy offering his two cents on the matter. "If he beats you until you're bleeding all over me again, I'm letting the children poke at you with sticks." Tony was so kind to his friends. Don't judge him, he'd been here far too long without and access to the most remotely modern materials to keep sane as he waited. He needed to build something when the nightmares got bad. It was a healthy way of dealing. Really. He was poking at the damn forge these days, but they frowned on doing that late at night here.
Nathan	And that would be because, for reasons unknown, people around here actually liked sleeping at night. Oh, those wacky Japanese. "If he beats me until I'm bleeding all over you again, then at least the children will have something to do to pass the time until I regain consciousness," Nathan retorted. "God knows, they're all terrible at baseball."
Tony	"I'll have you know, Baseball is embraced by Japan later on," Tony informed him, shifting about with far too much energy. A sedentary lifestyle wasn't his thing.
Nathan	"Suddenly, my efforts trying to get them to chase the ball instead of me seem far more worthwhile, then," Nathan decided, glancing at Ujio, who was growing impatient waiting for him to finish shooting the shit with his companion. "You'll have to tell me all about the Japanese baseball league after I'm finished getting beaten to a pulp again, Tony." He gave the sword in his hand a twirl, and then made his way over to take a ready stance against his opponent. One of the old men on the sidelines leaned over Tony's shoulder and said, in Japanese, "//Ujio will win in three moves.//" He was giving Nathan undue credit, there. After all, one of the two of them had only been working with a sword for a handful of months.
Tony	"//Five//" Tony countered, showing far too much faith in Nathan's skills.
Nathan	The match began, and Nathan managed to survive three of Ujio's moves before getting a solid piece of wood smacked across his back. Ouch. The Japanese man smirked, and held out his hand to be paid as Nathan and Ujio took their places again. He won. "//Next, in five moves.//"
Tony	Tony rolled his eyes and handed over money he'd managed to win when people were under the impression he was a bit slow. Just because he kept poking at burning hot metal to get an idea for the process. Really people. Really. "//He's biding his time.//"
Nathan	That earned a smirk from the man, yes, as he settled back to see how well the gaijin would do in this next match. Nathan did better, yes. Five moves before Ujio pressed the sword against his neck. Another loss. Once again, that hand was held out, waiting for his coin. There was no follow-up bet. Nathan took a deep breath, steeling himself for another match. Too many mind. It was him and his wooden katana, Ujio and his. Nothing else. It was the movement, the breath of the match. Too many mind. Once again, the two faced off. The match lasted longer than any other before it, sword hitting sword again and again and again, until... ... Until both men froze, staring one another in the eye. Each of them had a wooden sword pressed against his neck. "//A draw!//"
Tony	That got the kind of clap that was vaguely sarcastic, but Tony still managed to look impressed. "A red letter day. You're not laying in a pile at the end."
Nathan	Nathan was still working on catching his breath. If he looked a little shocked as he gave a low bow to Ujio before making his way over to Tony again, that would be because yes, he was. "I can't imagine I'll be able to make a habit of that," he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I'd hate to deny the children something to poke at with sticks."
Tony	Tony just clapped him on the back, shaking his head. "I'm sure they'll come up with a new game to mock you."

[NFB and NFI for distance and time. Preplayed with not_ironmaiden, who is smarter than I am and understands the glories of e-mail, omg. Large chunks of script lifted from The Last Samurai, and as such, there are spoilers within.]