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Raiden Yamato: Samoan Samurai Part 6

Updated on January 30, 2017
collage of royalty free pictures from Pixabay and Pexels
collage of royalty free pictures from Pixabay and Pexels | Source

Hours passed after the match. There was no celebration after the match either. With his vision blurred, Pua slowly awoke to a fuzzy world with a wide circular light shining right on his sore eyes. His body was numbly stiff all over, from the neck down; tingling sensations were spotty along his heels and toes, but everywhere else his body felt motionless and heavy. A fur-thick blanket covered Pua up to his chin, his head resting on a foam pillow.

Pua had been moved to the stadium’s exam chamber. Several doctors and nurses had inserted IV fluids into him. Bandages with a faint glowing green light were tied around his neck and forehead; they were actually scrolls with written spell chants composed by tribal priests. The blanket also had healing properties, its fabric absorbing excess fluids from Pua’s cuts and bruises and releasing restorative beads to recondition his skin and internal organs.

Seoul sat next to Pua. He checked his electronic wristband; he received a text from Kwan asking about Pua, “He is okay?” Seoul read the message in a calm mood, his facial expression indifferent and plain. He then deleted the text, and returned his attention to Pua.

Pua’s fingers started moving, the numbness slowly fading. His toes quickly followed as Pua could wiggle them in tiny movements. The nurses and doctors surrounded his bed and adjusted his blanket; one nurse, instructed by the chief doctor, gently removed one of the bandages off Pua’s forehead. Another nurse applied a warm towel over his forehead, noticing the Samoan’s twitchy reaction, his eyes aggressively squinted.

A few minutes later, Pua was fully conscious, and stiff with fading soreness. As the residual soreness lessened, along with the numbness in other parts of his body, Pua slowly lifted his head, then his upper body, using his elbows for support. The nurses instructed him to lie back down, and the doctors told Pua to let his body rest, but he ignored them. Pua rolled the blanket off his chest and pulled his legs from underneath the sheet, seemingly comforted by the cool air hitting his skin. The medical staff stood there silent, appearing slightly annoyed; Pua looked at one doctor with a raised eyebrow, smirking at him, and that doctor turned away. Pua was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed and arms folded. He starred at the distant wall he was facing. Seoul politely asked the doctors and nurses to leave the room, telling them Pua was trying to mediate to deal with the leftover discomfort in his body. Appearing to be sympathetic, the physicians agreed and the medical staff left.

It was just Seoul and Pua in the medical room. Pua looked at Seoul in a pause, just looking at him, and then he told Seoul, “I feel like sh**.”

“You shouldn’t be moving.” Seoul held both of Pua’s hands, feeling the roughness of his left, and the contradicting softness of Pua’s right hand. Seoul starred at Pua’s hands for a while as he squeezed them, seeming puzzled by the contrast between the Samoan’s palms.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in the medical room. You and Tua won the fight, but your holy armor malfunctioned.” Seoul went on to explain that Pua developed a high, influenza-type flu that caused his suit to overcharge its energy flow, resulting in both armor and his body to shut down. “All that stamina training you went through to improve your body’s tolerance…that damn demon blood keeps f***ing with your armor.”

“No s***.” Pua looked down and noticed his right hand, seeing flakes of dead skin around his wrists. “At least my skin isn’t peeling off like before. It’s just flakes now.”

“That’s good. Maybe the stamina training’s working after all.” Seoul fiddled with his wristband, trying to take it off; it’s connecting hook was stuck, preventing Seoul from removing it. Pua noticed and playfully glared at him, smirking. “What’s with the face?”

“You’re ignoring Kwan’s texts again, aren’t you?” Seoul was quiet. “I know what you’re doing, Seoul. You only mess with that thing when Kwan contacts you.” Seoul remained silent.

Pua asked about his gauntlet. Seoul told him that the weapon had overheated when Pua passed out; guards with steel gloves pulled the device off before it melted his skin. Pua then asked if he could see it, receiving ‘no’ in response from Seoul. “Why can’t I see?”

“The demon blood infected it again”, Seoul explained, “It’s being cleaned out. You can’t touch a corrupted weapon, even with the divinity stream in your body; it’s too dangerous.”

“If it’s too dangerous for me to touch, then how the hell can anybody else clean it?”

“Mystic priests are cleansing it, Pua.”

Pua felt his legs regain most of their normal sensation, and lingering soreness had almost disappeared. He started to feel hot under his blanket; he checked underneath his sheet to see if he had underwear on; he did not. Fully nude from head to toe, Pua wrapped his blanket around his waist, covering his hip area between his belly button and knees. Seoul noticed, making a sly smile. Pua quickly asked, “Did you see Tua? Has he been come by or anything?” Seoul shook his head. “Has anyone seen him?”

“Nope, he left the stadium right after you passed out. He’s out somewhere, I just don’t know where.”

“…He’s probably out in the streets c**t scouting.”

Tua strolled through the capital’s food market district alone, spending most of his time at the fish market square. Foreign tourists flooded the streets buying carts of locally caught fish, and Tua walked around checking out the foreign women, particularly colored American women. He took notice of a Latina buying crispy shrimp rice patty with her girlfriends at a fried fish stand near an old post office. She wore a strapless dress, dull orange with bright yellow spots scattered down her thin gown, with an aged brown belt around her waist. Her anatomy rivaled a Victorian Secret model’s body, having a fuller figure and well-shaped calves complimented by her seemingly handmade sandals.


Tua kept his distance, standing behind a large wooden sign, staring at the Latin American girl, grabbing his lava-lava covered crouch. Clever about it, the American, talking to her friends while eating her food, pretended not to notice Tua, her eyes only occasionally wondering off to his direction. Eventually she told her friends she was feeling tired and needed to head back to their inn to rest.

The other women went on their way, searching for another food stand to eat local food. In an alley far away from the fish stand, next to stacks of dried messy ink-marked crates and stuffed boxes, Tua caressed the tourist, whispering into her eyes and then pressing his lips against her neck and shoulders, slowly pulling her outfit down with his large hands. She took hold of Tua’s hands and placed them on her hips, kissing his neck before proceeding to his lips. Following an intense make out session, with her verbal consent, Tua pinned the woman against the wall, right next to a tall stack of crates with printed Chinese symbols. He found the zipper on her gown while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He undid his lava-lava and threw it to the side, fully nude as he tossed off his sandals. Her dress unzipped, she climbed Tua and wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips locked together. From there, sexually smashed onto the wall, the Latina could only dig her nails into Tua’s bare sculpted back and barely contain her bodily urge to moan loudly, while Tua, deep in heavy breathing, buried his face into her neck, thrusting hard in a slow, aggressive motion…that lasted nearly an hour.

Pua asked Seoul, “When you used to battle demons, you were afraid? Like, overcome with fear and you had to mask it so others wouldn’t see your fear?”

Seoul replied, “Any sensible person would be afraid of battling the Oni. I dreaded them, especially early in my career when your father was alive. During my first two years as a foot solider, it was difficult to keep composure while fighting demonic creatures. What got you to ask about fear?”

“…It’s been several years since I felt like death cornered me. Fighting Toto was just like all the other duels, with and without Tua, and even the missions I go on to kill demons, but as soon as Toto transformed into that Oni… my body went into autopilot. Everything was happening so fast, my emotions screwed around and became a wall of fear masked up by other feelings. I can’t explain it any other way.” Pua paused for a moment, fiddling with his fingers and pressing his lips as if trying to hold back tears from seeping out of his eyes. Pua continued, “These duels are getting to me. Fighting for this bulls*** entertainment for politicians and fans wanting blood lust – I can’t do this anymore.”

Seoul replied, “Well after what that daimyo did, you may get your wish. That demon transformation could have been a disaster. Our diplomats will have their work cut out for them if they manage to pull off a new truce – we can’t afford another war.” Seoul started to stroke Pua’s hair, sliding his fingers from the back of Pua’s head to his neck, caressing his right shoulder. Pua gently nudged away. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not in the mood, Seoul.”

“C’mon, don’t be moody. Are you still sore?”

“I’m fine, I just I don’t feel like doing anything – please, Seoul.” Tears broke free from his eyes and Pua quickly covered them with his right hand. “I’m scared of fighting, Seoul. I hate summoning this damn armor and my body f***ing up from it. Every time I merge with the armor, every part of my body gets strained, and scares the s*** out of me. The only real reason I didn’t run away was because of a voice in my head. It sounded comforting; it was one calming feeling I felt in the whole fight.”

“You heard voices?”

“One voice, Seoul – don’t imply there’s something wrong with me. Anyway, it told me what to do. It kept me from going off rails from all the other crap I was feeling. Even when the voice went away, it had a lasting presence that helped me to keep going, even when my body was shutting down and I passed out. I was scared but not completely paralyzed by it.” Seoul resumed stroking Pua’s hair, though at that point, the Samoan samurai was more relaxed, no longer bothered with Seoul’s touching him.

“It’s not unusual to hear things when your body is under severe strain or trauma. You were going through various sensations during the fight; it makes sense you heard a voice during that time.”

“You expect me to go along with that sh**-ass explanation?”

“Relax, Pua. Getting worked up won’t do you any good.”

Pua took a deep breath, followed by a long exhale. Seoul began massaging, digging his hands deep into Pua’s shoulders, rubbind deep against his muscles. “I’m still a little sore, Seoul.” Seoul blew a soft hush into Pua’s ear. “…Seriously – here? You want me to get into the mood in a medical room, knowing what my body went through just a few hours ago? You’re that horny?” Seoul continued his massage, caressing Pua’s back. “Seoul, can you please stop – you really need to listen to me when I say stop.” Seoul’s hands then moved to Pua’s crouch. Pua’s face drastically changed, intentionally smiling. “…Damn it.”

Two hours passed. Two guards armed with spears walked through the tunnels, stern faced and indifferent in their unified, straightforward body language. They approached the door to Pua’s medical room, and one banged on the door, shouting in a loud deep voice, “Officer Seoul! Emperor Kenji has requested your audience.” They stood there for a long moment, briefly looking at each other with slight aggravation. The other guard shouted, “Officer Seoul, can you hear us? Our emperor has asked for your in-person audience.”

His voice loud with irritation, Seoul yelled through the closed door, “Tell the emperor I will be there shortly. I need 30 minutes.”

“Sir, why do you need 30 minutes? Is there something serious preventing you from honoring his request sooner?”

“I said 30 minutes! Leave, now!” The two guards again looked at each other, awkward and unsure in their frowning faces. One murmured about Pua caught in a suspicious encounter by two other guards earlier that day; the other shook his head in mild annoyance.

“…Sir, are you having sex with Pua?” There was a long pause. “Officer Seoul?”

“Your voice sounds familiar. It’s Kuna, right?” The guard answered yes, his voice cracking from nervousness. “I recall hearing a civilian woman screaming that name several times in a restricted training hut yesterday. I believe she had multiple orgasms, probably from having wild sex with a soldier inside a barn reserved for military personnel.” The guard gulped as sweat started to bead on his face. “The barn can be very humid during the day, which explains why a servant boy found a soldier’s armor, boots and socks underneath the hay. Now I could report that to your rules-obsessed captain, unless…”

“We’re leaving. Sorry to bother you.” The other guard grabbed Kuna, trying to get him to change his mind, but Kuna yanked his arm out of his partner’s grip and in haste walked back to the tunnel, his head lowered while he stomped his way for his exit.

Nude and barefoot, Seoul walked back to Pua’s bed. While Seoul got underneath the blanket to lie next to Pua, Pua pulled the blanket off his nude body and placed his feet on the floor. Seoul asked him where he was going; Pua told him he need to use the bathroom. Seoul pointed to an empty bucket against the wall near a burnt out torch, asking, “It’s just a piss, right?” Pua glared at Seoul.

“At some point I’ll need to take a dump.” Pua started to head to where the bucket was, but Seoul quickly leaned forward and slapped Pua’s butt cheeks. Pua turned around and, pissed off, shook his head, telling Seoul to not do that again. Pua resumed his walk, got to the bucket, and relieved himself.

“I got us 30 minutes for more alone time.”

“We had sex three times, and you’re expecting more?”

“I can go another round.”

“Well as the bottom, I’m telling you I’m tapped out, at least with you anyway. Aren’t there spare clothes in this room?” Seoul told him no. “Are you effing serious? Can’t you call a guard to get some clothes?” Seoul shook his head. “Seoul, I’m not playing around!”

“We got 28 minutes.” Pua nearly shouted at Seoul, but while looking at him, he spotted a black bag next to Seoul’s cloths. He marched right toward the bag, unzipping it and pulling out fresh cloths while ignoring Seoul’s calls to stop. “Damn it, Pua! I got us extra time and you want to act like an ass!”

“We just f***ed.” Pua attempted to say more, but a sudden creep of pain hit his left knee, causing him to squint in irritation. “Sh**, my knee’s acting up.” Pua took his time getting back up, holding one of Seoul’s kimonos.

Moving in haste and ignoring the residual soreness in his knee, Pua dressed himself in Seoul’s red kimono. Covered up, Pua headed for the door; Seoul slid off the medical bed and jetted past Pua, reaching and then using his body to block the door. Pissed, Pua told Seoul to move, becoming more frustrated when Seoul refused.

Seoul pleaded with Pua, “Wait, please wait. I know that I’m being a pain right now, but we hardly spend any intimate time together. It’s been five days since we had sex like that, awesome quality sex. You spend most of your free time with the other guys, including Kwan. All I want is more time with you, like years ago when we first met. Please, Pua, please just drop it and let me have you for a little while longer.”

Pua felt something on his butt. He turned his head and rubbed the bottom back of his kimono. Turning back to Seoul, Pua marched for door and yelled, “Move it!” He brushed Seoul to the side and bolted out of the room.

15 minutes passed, and Kenji Minamoto stood with patient irritation in one of the grand halls of the imperial palace, waiting for those he had summoned. His ministers kept their distance from him, visible too nervous to say anything to him. Kenji’s ears unexpectedly twitched and he looked straight to the main hallway leading to their circular rotunda hall; he heard footsteps, several persons approaching them from the shortening distance. Pua and Kwan soon were visible to Kenji and his ministers; Kenji seemed to be still in his stance, but actually, he shook his head in small side-to-side turns no one noticed. Pua and Kwan arrived and bowed before Kenji. Kenji said nothing to them, only staring at Pua.

Tua then showed up, entering the rotunda hall from a short, narrow hall left of Kenji and his imperial entourage. Kenji and his ministers turned to Tua, taken aback by his brash body language; unlike Pua who appeared submissive in repentance, Tua came in with a prep-boy attitude in his lips, hands on his hips expressing pride and uninterested eyes, seemingly attentive to where he was earlier. Kenji saw a large, crimson-red hickey all over his neck and collarbone area. Pua and Kwan were dressed in modest kimonos, whereas Tua boasted in a lava-lava and sandals, nothing else.

“Tua”, Kenji said in a soft yet stern announcement, his attention on Pua gone, “Didn’t you see your brother at all since the match?” Tua shook his head, silent and rolling eyes away from Kenji in a [barely] settle manner. “Drop your shitty attitude! Every time we have a meeting here, you cop that smart-ass attitude. It’s getting old and it’s been old – drop that s*** now, Tua!”

“Why aren’t you yelling at Pua”, Tua asked, annoyed, “He was screwing around before the match!”

“And Pua performed better than you during the match!”

Kenji strolled to the center of the round floor, staring at the surrounding artwork and wall paintings, visibly pissed as he crossed his arms behind his back, tensely pressing his lips. Then, Kenji spoke to everyone around him, “This has been a ridiculous day in too many ways. For me, this has been the worst of all the scandalous events I’ve witnessed or took part in, aside from my own spear tackle incident. Daimyo...damn it, I keep forgetting his name – that lord has ruined stadium duels with his war-provoking stunt, an offense that can never be forgiven and an act of war. He knew our military was stretched thin from all the counter demon operations we’ve carried out – had it not been for Konjo Raiden Yamato Manu Samoa, our soldiers and people would’ve been put in jeopardy of a Trojan horse invasion by a single demon. This incident will not go un-avenged.”

Kenji’s war minister asked if he should summon the generals to the war room; Kenji nodded and ordered that minister to gather the commanders and generals. Kenji looked at Pua, walked to him, and, once face to face with the Samoan samurai, while also keeping his eye on Kwan, spoke to Pua, “Your prowess as Raiden Yamato continues to amaze me, Pua. Your battle would have made Jubei proud.” Pua nervously smiled. “I do wish you wouldn’t repeat your dad’s mistakes off the battlefield.” Kwan attempted to speak on Pua’s behalf, but Kenji put his hand on Kwan’s mouth.

Tua, overhearing Kenji and Pua, confronted the former, storming right for him. Boasting pouting lips and an intense angered stare, Tua glared at Kenji and yelled, “Are you serious?” He pointed at Kwan and continued yelling, “He was screwing him in the tunnels right before our duel, and you’re just lecturing him? F*** that! This is bulls***!”

Kenji, speaking calmly, though visibly upset with Tua, replied, “Your brother could’ve died today! But I guess you’re allowed to fornicate in an alleyway instead of being by your brother’s side.” Tua tried to respond, but Kenji interrupted him, “I know what both of you do. You are too eager to demonize your brother, yet he never comes to me, or any of my ministers, about your mistakes. Now step aside.” Tua unwillingly moved to the right, clearing way for Kenji to walk back to his ministers. Before he and his cabinet departed, Kenji turned to Tua and commented, “Next time, don’t hook up with a foreign exchange student that has a tracking device on her.”

Kwan and Pua looked at one another for a while, facing the others and their backs turned to the entrance hall they came from. Kwan asked Pua if he was all right: Pua passively nodded, prompting Kwan to ask, “You shouldn’t let Tua get to you.”

“It’s Seoul. He’s pissing me off.”

“What did he do?”

“Seoul’s just too needy, and obnoxious. He says he cares for me, loves me, repetitive sh** – I really do not know what I see in him anymore.”

“Did he at least keep you company at the medical room, in a non-annoying way for a little while?”

“…I still got semen in my ass.” Kwan blushed in embarrassed.


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