Raijin pulled bits of seaweed out from between his toes, spitting it onto the ground with a perturbed expression. It didn’t at all taste like dried seaweed, which he quite enjoyed. Well, maybe it did a bit, but the texture left much to be desired. His golden gaze took in the scenery around him, head tilting to look to the tops of the stone structures that surrounded him in the middle of the circle. It had seemed as good a spot as any to settle and recoup for a day or so before he ventured on.

He’d been lucky enough to use one of his connections to get a boat ride to this continent they called ‘Boreas’ for a reasonably cheap rate. A little sweet talk here and some schmoozing there and he’d been on his way. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was his chauffeur dropping him off on an island that had been at least a mile’s swim from the mainland. His endurance was still pristine if he did say so himself, but he was still recovering from his injuries from the bastard Hideki. It hurt to open his mouth too far, the scar still fresh and sensitive, and the deep bite mark on his foreleg throbbed intermittently. The chief had done a number on him, but with a bit of time he’d return the favor tenfold.

The rake could smell the scent of a pack on the nearby wind and he decided he would check it out later. He wanted a reasonably lawful pack whose leader had a righteous compass, that way he could spin his web of mostly truths to get them to trust him and reasonably feel for him. It would probably take a few years, but Raijin was a patient man when it came to plans (though not so much in his other daily affairs) and knew it took a while to rise in rank and solidify the necessary relationships to get what he wanted. He was a strategist and knew how to play the long game.

His stomach grumbled, signaling his need to eat but his need for sleep outweighed it. If he was to catch anything he needed the strength a quick cat nap could provide. So, he settled beneath one of the overhanging structures with a yawn.

The ocean wind was cold and brisk, blowing in strong from the east and prickling Hattori's eyes as he strode upwind. His akita companion led the way, nose to the ground and curled tail wagging as chased the scent of a familiar, yet unnameable koi wolf. Hattori wasn't quite sure what to think, or even expect. What were the chances of them being a familiar face? Let alone someone he even wished to speak to? Hattori was sure that a lot had changed in Nippon during his absence, wolves he might once have called his allies could now be enemies, he knew was taking a risk coming out here but it was a calculated one. One he believed that was worth taking.

The akita let out a sharp bark, snapping Hattori out of his introspection. His steely gaze snapped up to the stone monoliths that stood before him, tall and imposing, somewhat reminiscent of the tori gates back home. And there he was, a dead man walking. Or sitting, rather. For once Hattori was speechless, he blinked slowly as though he half expected him to vanish the moment he opened his eyes. But there he was, rough and tumbled, but very much alive and breathing. This was good news-or at the very least not bad- but Hattori remained where he was, silent, still and cautious.

Whilst it was good to see that his cousin was alive this could hardly be called a heartwarming family reunion. Raijin and Hattori had never been close, they were nothing alike and more often than not their differences incited conflict. Hattori played by the rules and respected tradition and Raijin did not. He'd always been a bit of a wild card and from the state of him, stinking and covered in seaweed, Hattori assumed that rule still applied.

Knowing his part was played for now, the akita dipped his head down into a bow for his lord and backed away. Giving the cousins their privacy. It was only then that Hattori spoke.

"Raijin. Tell me what happened."

Just as he was about to doze off a voice called out to him. Though, perhaps he was dreaming, because he swore it sounded like his cousin Hattori. But that was impossible, Tori had been thrown off a cliff to his death on the same day Raijin’s brother had been killed. The day was burned into his memory, making his head ache worse than his hangover. His golden gaze blinked open and he looked up, a familiar dark figure standing a few feet away. The man’s brows drew together in confusion and he sat tongue tied for a moment, something incredibly rare for the strategist.

”I’ve had some pretty fucked up dreams recently, but this one is just too much,” he mumbled, his face twisting into a look of agony. Raijin had been raised to always wear a mask in front of others and that had extended even to his cousin. To everyone, he was fun loving and carefree with a brilliant mind some argued was being squandered. And maybe he had been that at one time, but these past few months had hardened him more than he’d ever thought possible. He’d drank his pain away, hardly a day going by where he was sober in a desperate attempt to just forget and pretend that everything was okay when it definitely was not. He didn’t think he’d ever be okay again, and a reason for that was the vision in front of him. A reminder of the death of a second brother.

Hattori, in a rare show of surprise, quirked a brow. Raijin had always been a bit of a drinker, the first to open up a flask of sake at a get together, but the Shogun had never seen himself sink so low. Or at least not to the extent where he no longer made sense. His expression was twisted and tight, suffused with a look of anguish that was wholly unfamiliar to Hattori, as though he was wearing the mask of another wolf's face. Mimicking a man who'd lost it all and landed at rock bottom. The Shogun exhaled, his expression shifting back to it's usual cold aloofness, as he stepped closer, his talons clicking against rock. He was a patient man, but that patience never extended towards this cousin.

"Raijin." He repeated, firmer this time. His patience wearing thin. Out of the pair he had to stumble across the cousin he liked the least. "I have no patience for your theatrics. What happened?"

There was a lot Hattori likely needed to catch up on and the sooner the conversation got under way the better. But then again Raijin had never been the sort to make things easier, in fact Hattori suspected he enjoyed being an inconvenience. It would have been safe to assume he was simply pulling Hattori's tail now but it just didn't feel right, something was amiss and the longer Hattori was left in the dark the more his frustrations grew.

It was all so real, so frighteningly real and he wanted to pinch himself. The figment of a man stepped closer, his characteristic cool expression on his face that he’d had since they were young. Hattori had always been the stickler of the group, so hellbent on following the rules and not branching out. Raijin had tried too many times to count to get him to loosen up, to have some fun once in a while, but he’d never quite been able to crack through that outer shell. Not like Take had been able to. He wasn’t a fool as to not see that his twin and their cousin had had a far better relationship than Tori and he did. Take had been the one the heir had called on for everything, the one he had trusted the most. Raijin had really just been along for the ride, shoving himself in the middle despite Hattori’s protests because, damnit, they were cousins and the closest in line to succession. Only the three of them could really understand what that meant and how it affected them, both physically and mentally.

The figure demanded to know what happened and the Genji man flinched, a grimace on his lips. ”Why do you always ask me this? You know. You know what happened. You died, you went over that god damn cliff and left me alone with Take’s fucking corpse. I buried my brother and buried an empty grave for you. The only two I ever gave a shit about. You didn’t even take me with you, you bastards. You always wanted to leave me out, and this time I couldn’t follow you into the void. Not yet,” he said, his voice gruff with anger, his lips drawing back until his teeth were bared. His chest ached so god damn much, he wanted it to stop.

Perhaps Hattori had misread the situation. He knew his cousin and drunk or not he was never like this, not even close. His posture and body language was all wrong, slumped and broken, and the words that tumbled from his lips- whilst in Hattori's native language- made next to no sense. Or at least not at first glance. What at first seemed  to be the nonsense ramblings of a drunk soon devolved into some unpleasant truths. Things Hattori had been better off not hearing. The cogs whirled behind Hattori's cold eyes as he put it all together, piece by piece till the gravity of the situation rushed over him with all the force of tsunami. Take was gone. He inhaled sharply as an odd ache settled in his chest. It was a feeling he'd never experience before, sharp and piecing, as though someone had slipped a knife between his ribs. He looked down at himself, half expecting to see blood seeping out from beneath his fur. But he was fine, more so than his cousin.

Hattori gritted his teeth and raised a front paw, bringing it down hard against the line of his cousin's muzzle. As firm as Hattori was he's never laid a hand on Raijin, not like this. But Hattori needed to get some sense out of him, facts without being blurred by his heightened state of emotions.

"I am sorry for loss. But I need you to speak plainly, what happened to him? To you?"

The look that settled over not-Hattori’s face was...different from the face he’d given in Raijin’s other dreams. Even after he’d told him he’d remained stoic, or sometimes he’d even get angry. He’d tell him it was his fault for not being good enough to protect them, that he should have been the one to die while they should have lived. Those times he didn’t even have a response, because the figment was right. He was a loose cannon, he had never been quite as invested in advancement as the two had. He was third in line and he’d been so sure he’d never have to take up the mantle because Hattori and Take never fucked things up like he did. But then they were gone and everything was staring him in the face, and he did was he did best: he fucked stuff up.

Suddenly, the figment raised his paw and Raij just stared at him. He could try to hit him all he wanted but it would just pass through him like every other time. Hence, when the paw started descending he didn’t even flinch. Then, it smacked him square across the face so hard that his head actually turned to the side. For a second he didn’t move, he simply blinked in surprise. Then, his head turned and he stared at Hattori for a second. “How the hell,” he gaped. He was...real? Like, really real? How? He’d seen him go over that cliff. Apparently his cousin was made of stronger stuff than he’d thought.

The Genji man had so many questions, starting with why the hell he hadn’t returned to them or made it known that he was alive. But, he supposed he could fill in the initial pieces then Hattori could fill in what happened after. “On our way to the meeting we were ambushed, all of us. It seemed like they each had a target, but some of us were assigned two. Takemikazuchi, you and I for example. By the end of it, everyone was killed besides myself and two others...well, I thought so anyways. We held a funeral for you...and Take...and Chīfu Hattori told everyone that you’d died an honorable death. But there was nothing honorable about being attacked from behind. I...looked into it,” he gave Hattori a meaningful look. In addition to his diplomacy, Raijin had been trained in various interrogation techniques alongside the Iga heir. He would know as well as anyone what he meant by that phrase.

”Hattori...your father ordered it. He ordered us ambushed and killed, anyone who attended that meeting.”

Talking, Talking in Italics means he's speaking Japanese

Hattori said nothing. Time stretched on and on, the silence smothering as though it had seized Hattori's throat and cut off his airways. Hattori of course knew of the ambush and the chaos that had proceeded. Not knowing whether his followers were dead or alive was a burden he silently bared with greeted teeth and smothered guilt. But the loss of his cousin, his favoured cousin, hurt far more than he would ever care to admit. It did not come as a surprise, in the madness of it all he'd smelled the blood in the air and on the stranger's breaths but.... He blinked, cutting off that line of thought before it could twist and meander out of control. He would not lose his way as Raijin had. Thinking back the attack had clearly been well organised, enacted with surgical precision so pinprick sharp that it whittled down Hattori's list of suspects. With one name sitting right at the top ,underlined and written in bold. But it was hard to think, to focus on the facts when his cousin was adding his emotions into the fray, blurring the lines and complicating matters even more. As if Hattori didn't already have enough to deal with.

Even now Raijin was riddled with emotion, close to distraught. Whilst Hattori was distant, colder than the ocean breeze that ruffled his coat. Despite all he'd lost,  his emotions and the pain just couldn't squeeze through his vice like grip. Hattori was a shadow of his father and that fact bothered him, a lot.

"And then what? What did you do?" He then asked because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Raijin wouldn't, or rather simply couldn't, just leave matters as they were. He'd made things worse, Hattori could sense it like an incoming storm.

Hattori had always been cold and aloof on the best of days and a downright dick on the worst. He’d always kept himself closed off from everyone, never letting anyone in in case they catch a glimpse of weakness from him. And this mask had worked. It made him seem strong, invincible, the perfect heir to the perfect clan. But despite that, Raijin had expected some sort of reaction from the fallen heir upon hearing about the betrayal he’d suffered and the loss of his best friend. Instead, the news was met with cold indifference, like he could have been talking about some random wolf from some random clan that he didn’t give a fuck about. A fire started to build in the Genji’s chest and he stumbled to his feet. He bared his teeth at the accusatory tone that his cousin used with him.

”What did I do? What the fuck do you mean ’what did I do’? I fucking went and defended both of your honors. It’s one thing to die in an honorable battle, it’s another to die because someone stabbed you in the fucking back. I tried to make him pay, blood for blood as honor dictates! But I was too fucking weak, too much of a god damn pup and I failed. But I’ll do it again, I’ll get stronger and I’ll become better and then I’ll get revenge for Take, my brother and your best friend, because he deserves that much.” God he was so angry he was shaking. How dare he look at him with those cold eyes and judge him for doing what he had to for the two wolves he cared about. How dare he judge him for being left alone. Not everyone could be the ice prince.

Talking, Talking in Italics means he's speaking Japanese

Hattori watched, unwavering and unblinking as his cousin yelled at him with bared teeth. At any other time this would be an affront Hattori simply would not tolerate but given the circumstances....he said nothing, and allowed Raijin's storm to run it's course. All thunderous words and hackles raised as though he'd been shocked by lightning. But hearing what he'd done, what Raijin had attempted to do bought a fierce glower to Hattori's face and a flash of his white teeth as he dwelled on the repercussions of his cousins actions. Just one foolish decision had caused all of Hattori's plans and preparations to come crashing down, no doubt leaving the Iga clan in shambles in his wake. As things stood if either of them stepped one paw back on Nippon they would be dead men walking, captured and brought home to commit honourable suicide.

Take's dead was unforgiveable, a rogue element Hattori hadn't seen coming but to attempt to shrike their lord down was-in the eyes of most- even worse. Simply put, out of grief Raijin had made a bad situation so so so much worse and for the time being there was nothing Hattori could do to remedy that.

"I...understand how you feel. But can you not see what you have done?" He stepped away to pace back and forth, ears flat. Even Hattori could only take so much and Raijin just had a way of pressing all the wrong buttons. The longer he lingered on this the deeper the severity of this situation sunk in, till it seized his heart. "It is one thing to want to avenge your brother but to be so stupid- so brazen? Did you forget all of your training? It is not a matter of strength, you will never get another chance. You threw it all away!"

Hattori looked almost shell-shocked as Raijin spoke and, for a moment, the man allowed himself to hope that his cousin would actually understand him. The Iga heir had always followed rules and been the perfect son while Raijin had done neither, in fact he’d raged against the idea of it, determined to not be a pawn in someone else’s chest board. But, any hope he had was shattered by the words that fell from the dark man’s mouth.

His golden gaze trailed after the man’s pacing frame, his own expression turning from vengeful to stoney. Now it was his turn to lock away his feelings behind the mask they’d been trained to wear, because if the other man wasn’t going to even acknowledge the hurt that he felt, or the hand that his own father had in the matter, then he didn’t need to bare himself out like he had been. Not for the first time, he found his chest aching for his brother.

“I didn’t intend on getting another chance from the beginning,” he said quietly, his jaw clenching. Even in his drunken, grief-stricken state, Raijin had known what he’d had planned meant for him. Death. He’d die, fighting for his brother and cousin’s honor, and take down the cursed villain in the process. He’d meet them in the afterlife and bare Hideki’s chained soul to them as reparation. But, as his uncle had held him pinned to the floor, his fangs cutting through the skin of his face like a butter life, he’d realized that he wouldn’t even be able to take him down with him. It would have been for nothing, and it had been then that his survival instincts had taken over. He didn’t even remember escaping from Iga, nor the next few days that followed as he’d stumbled away, half-heartedly fighting off his pursuers while half-dead before passing out for he didn’t know how long. Yeah, he’d fucked up, but at least he’d tried.

“Say what you want of me, Hattori, it’s nothing I haven’t heard from you before, or anything I haven’t already said to myself. I’m not asking for your understanding, I’m asking for you to fucking show you care for once in your life. We don’t get along, we never have, but one thing we do...did, have in common, was Take. Fucking cry, scream, something, because I cannot be the only one that bears this grief. It’s already torn me apart.”

Talking, Talking in Italics means he's speaking Japanese