Jungle fever

Chapter 35

Poles were sticking out of the brown-green mass, chipped branches, stones and silt covered everything that was once the village of the Aomine clan. For three days Masahiro, Raion, and their men were excavating things that possibly could be used again. But all in all, there wasn't much left. The bodies of the death had already started to rot away and were buried in a, for the Aomine clan, traditional position. They hadn't found everyone. In fact, the lives which were lost and the number of bodies they had buried, were nowhere near equal but simply doing the required deed for the few they could find let them ease their minds. It was terrible work, but it had to be done. Masahiro still had the responsibility for his people. And whether they were dead or alive, they belonged to his clan and deserved a decent burial and devotion. It was his last act as their chieftain, and he would pull through no matter how much his heart ached at the number of lost souls.

Raion was working side by side with him. They didn't speak. Only disinterred the dead and buried them again. Also, all the men they had brought with them were quiet. The shock of the disaster still sitting deep.

Masahiro was actually grateful that his enemy of long years was with them. They weren't only faster, also the meals Raion cooked lifted their mood after they had seen so many dead and broken things through the day.

"Do you cook sometimes for your clan?" Masahiro asked when he was getting a refill of the stew Raion had made on the third evening. "Yeah, I used to. But since Taiga is a better cook than me, it somehow switched to him. Everyone is praising his dishes and really, I have never tasted bread as good as he bakes it." He smiled slightly up to his old rival and handed him his bowl back. "Somehow it sounds wrong even if I have meantime accept it, but Taiga will make a good wife for your son. If Daiki is only a tad like you, he will need someone like him anyway. Don't you think so?" Raion smirked and gave the tall man a sneering gaze. "What's that supposed to mean?" Masahiro huffed and sat down beside the Kagami chieftain. "Well, do you remember the one time you tried to cook for Tora? It was so horrible we had a stomach ache for three days." Raion couldn't suppress a snorting noise escaping his throat and was shot dead by dark eyes. "Shut up! I improved on a certain level since then ... wait! She let you tasted it?" He guaffed at the man beside him who was still laughing. "Yeah, hell she did. Wouldn't let me get away without a spoon full of ... what was it anyway? I only remember the deep purple color and a weird smell coming from it." Raion tapped curiously thinking at his chin and looked from the corner of his eye at Masahiro. " ... -idge."

"What? Sorry, I didn't understand you." The corner of his lips rose amused up as he witnessed the red ear tips of the normally so brash man. "It was rice porridge you rude bastard." That made Raion snort once more and laugh out loud. "How the hell did you manage to make a simple dish like that into that hellish thing? I'm sure it could've burned away every disease someone ever had." He was laughing even more and clapped his knee, tears in the corner of his eyes. "Shut up!" Masahiro snarled and then groaned in embarrassment. Why had Tora needed to give this shithead the food he made? It was meant for her. His mother had told him that she was down with a cold and at that time still believed that he was able to make a simple dish like rice porridge. So she had sent him without looking into the pot, to the Kagami clan. Masahiro, entirely himself, had walked into the village, put the pot down beside the tent, and left without a word to his sister, still upset. But he had placed a little flower on top of it so she would know it was from him. He never came around to know if she had liked it. Well, he had guessed by the weird color that something had gone wrong, but never got back to that. Now hearing Raion reminiscing and laughing about it made him embarrassed. But he simply couldn't get angry at it. It was a long time ago and if he thought some more about it, it really was a funny incident.

He smiled into his bowl and took another spoonful stew to his mouth. Really, that guy could cook. They somehow had made peace and Masahiro, for the first time in years, felt that he maybe had done the guy wrong. After everyone had eaten, they laid down for a night rest in their improvised tents. They would wrap it up on the next day. Sadly, only the death they had noticed could be buried, everyone else would be impossible to find and he still had to think about the injured at the Kagami clan's village and what he had to do now.