Work Text:
“I need a samurai in my life!”
Chihiro woke up grasping the bedsheets next to him. Warm, as if the person who had been there had just woken up and chose to sneak out discretely. Strips of moonlight streamed in through the blinds and landed on the sheets bright, white; the branches outside casting shadows across the wooden ground below.
As he got up, his socks half kicked off in his sleep, he noticed hakuri’s ribbon on the night stand and took it with him. He inched open the door bit by bit before slipping out of the room and walking down the stairs, making sure to avoid the creaky steps. Char was staying in the room on the first level along with Hinao, the kid glad to have an elder sister figure, while Shiba was off doing…whatever he usually did at night.
Entering the kitchen area, he found their coffee maker on the isle surrounded by Hakuri’s spirit energy; halfway gone as the container of stirrers was slowly rematerialising at the same time.
He huffed under his breath, Hakuri must be in the storehouse, then.
Chihiro walked over to the coffee maker and rested his hand on it.
A silent question: Can I come in?
The spirit energy around the machine paused for a bit, hesitant, before it eventually started to envelop Chihiro as well.
In the blink of an eye, he found himself in the storehouse. The cold stone of the tiles seemingly pulsed as if alive beneath his feet and he took a while to reorient, before his eyes landed on Hakuri, sitting with the coffeemaker on a conveniently created table, the legs jutting out from the floor made of the same material with five seats surrounding it.
It seemed Hakuri was more proficient with the storehouse than expected. Just not combat-suited according to what Shiba mentioned when Chihiro had asked how their training was going.
Hakuri looked up at him, blue meeting red. “HEY!...” The sound echoed in the space as they continued staring at each other, Hakuri’s face slowly turning red.
“... sorry I woke you up” he tried again, considerably softer this time.
The corners of Chihiro’s mouth tilted upwards, a hint of a smile as he moved to take a seat at the makeshift table. “It’s okay.” He said back, just as soft.
“I thought I’d remodel around here…? Woke up and couldn’t really go back to sleep.” Hakuri started to explain; rubbing the back of his head, the other hand resting on his cup of coffee twitching minutely. Chihiro nodded back, silent as ever as he took a look around the space.
Other than the makeshift table, there was a wall with hooks to rest katanas, bare and empty. Below that, a small umbrella stand.
“Y’know, in case the weather turns bad and uh…” Chihiro nodded again, that made sense.
Another chest of drawers a little farther had fish food and an empty fishbowl. Before he could turn back, Hakuri immediately cut in.
“I was walking around when I saw a pet shop and I know the kamunabi allowance isn’t for that and we don’t even have pets buttheyremindedmeofyouandIcouldn’thelpmyselfand-”
a gasp for air, “I WAS- I was wondering if… you wanted to get pet fishes together? I mean you already have the ones in the Enten but I thought it might be nice and Itotallygotaheadofmyselfdidn’tI?GoshI’msosor-”
“I think it’d be nice”
“YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT IT WOULD BE NICE IDON’TKNOWWHATIWASTHINKINGI’MSOSORRY WAIT… You think it’d be nice?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t it?” By then, Chihiro was turned to face Hakuri, face deadpan as ever but amusement dancing within his eyes.
“Oh,” Hakuri looked up from beneath his bangs as he looked back to meet Chihiro’s gaze, his untied hair forming a curtain across his face. He spluttered a few times as hair got stuck in his mouth. “Cool.”
Chihiro then remembered the ribbon he still had in his hand.
Worrying it between his fingers, he stared at Hakuri a bit longer, before reaching out with his other hand. Chihiro tried not to tense up seeing Hakuri flinch before relaxing. Staying in the same room, it was inevitable that he would see the scars Hakuri had from his time with the Sazanami household.
“Is this okay?” He asked, trying to read Hakuri’s expression. For how expressive he usually was, in quiet moments like these, he seemed to unconsciously keep his expression blank. As if trying not to trouble others.
Chihiro used his thumb to brush away the hair framing his face, stroking along his cheekbone as Hakuri shivered slightly. “Are you cold?” Chihiro asked, worry seeping into his voice.
Hakuri shook his head slightly, some hair falling over his face again, forcing Chihiro to repeat the motion. Reaching across the table, he took the ribbon, slowly looping it around Hakuri’s hair. Fumbling a few times and getting closer and closer trying to do it how he saw Hakuri do it in the past. Realising he was close enough to feel Hakuri’s breath on his cheek, he nearly dropped the ribbon before redoing it a final time before tying it off with a small bow; used to the motion from tying Char’s shoelaces.
Hakuri’s face was a slight shade of pink when Chihiro finally pulled away, satisfied with his handiwork.
Looking back at the empty fishbowl, he noticed yet another stand nearby with an insect cage seated atop. The word “Samurai” inscribed below. Turning back to Hakuri, a questioning tilt to his head he asked, “I thought I was your samurai?”
At that, Hakuri flushed even harder. “Of course, you are!… Samurai was my pet mantis… back when I was still in the Sazanami household. He ran away,” he ducked his head, hiding behind his bangs again.
Silence stretched between them before Chihiro steeled his gaze, “I won’t run away.”
“I know that,” Hakuri replied, still not meeting his eyes. Chihiro grasped his hands, making him look up, “I don’t think you do. Hakuri. I won’t run away.”
His face crumpled as he gripped Chihiro’s hands back.
He knew this. He had absolute faith that Chihiro, who vowed to become his samurai, would never run away; but when the voices in his head got too loud Hakuri wished he was back with his family. So he could be shown his place. So he never knew what hope tasted like. So Chihiro never got involved with the likes of him. He wished Chihiro would run away, so he could tell himself “I told you so” and confirm what his family had ingrained in him. That he was a failure, and that no one would ever willingly keep him around.
“..kuri… Hakuri” His head snapped up, meeting the concern bleeding through the red of Chihiro’s eyes before looking down and realising he’d been digging his nails into Chihiro’s hands. He pulled away immediately, almost falling off his chair if not for Chihiro reacting in time and gripping the back of it.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Chihiro’s grip tightened on the chair before letting go.
“I still am, though.”
“…”
They sat there in the silence, Chihiro’s hands awkwardly back in his own lap and Hakuri staring resolutely past him.
Chihiro opened and closed his mouth a few times. The cup of coffee Hakuri made earlier, cold and still between them.
Say something. Talk to me. Let me reassure you.
Instead, he asked, “do you want to return to bed? It’s getting late.” He shuffled in his seat before getting up and extending a hand to Hakuri.
Hakuri took his hand and Chihiro pulled him into a hug, staying still as Hakuri tensed up and relaxed in his hold, before transporting them both back into bed. They stayed like that, Chihiro coaxing Hakuri into closing his eyes as he rest his chin on the white tufts of hair.
Waiting for his breaths to even out, Chihiro stared at the blinds and the moonlight falling onto Hakuri’s hair and counted his heartbeat slowing over time. Treasuring the ephemeral peace, he nuzzled his head before drifting off into sleep.
He dreamed of going to festivals and shopping for furniture for the storehouse. Of a fishbowl that didn’t sit empty, and of hugs that weren’t preceded by flinches.