Chapter Text
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Warm wind cascaded along the salt tempered mast, carrying a scent of forlorn abundance. Every step had a little extra weight pushed through onto the sloped ridges of the deck, lest a misstep result in an embarrassing trip up in front of his homely crew. The sound of boozed up camaraderie got passed between sails, singing through the cotton and bouncing off the various marred shells folks had collected and strung up during the more leisurely voyages of the past.
A hearty laugh bellowed near as an iron grip came down and grasped his shoulder, squeezing with a sense of kind, although boisterous familiarity. “What’re you doing Kazuha? Leave some work for the rest of us, or we’re going to look dishonourable in front of the land folk, heh!” Captain Beidou pushed past the boy's sturdy frame, thick arms bending down to grasp the larger of two crates meant to be loaded onto the deck during this morning's load. “Go say hello to that dame in the city proper, you should visit home when the chance comes beating on your own door already y’hear? I can’t deal with you when you're miserable and drunk, and we've got a lengthy voyage ahead of us boy.” She smirked down on him, knowing the bite laying in her words would be taken as the consideration that it was. Warm fingers tapped on his head, making him jostle the crate of lavender melons in his arms, as he set them down into the collection of other rations.
“Okay okay Captain, I’ll take my leave for the town now. Is there anything you’d like picked up from Ritou, or must I travel to the city today as well?” He rubbed the spot on his crown that got mussed up by her prompting, scowling as his fingers tore through a tangle he hadn't realized had gotten quite so large. Man, I really oughta get a proper bathe in.. Perhaps while we’re stopped I’ll have a moment of rest… I believe I recall an onsen Gorou mentioned the last time we met.. Aisa? Or perhaps a secluded riverbed would do me just fine as well. A sudden push on the small of his back from the Captain’s broad hand had him finally reeling into motion, swift and steady feet finding purchase amid the bustling crew and merchants of the port's morning traffic. He threw his head back to scowl at her, but her back had already turned to continue lifting off supplies amidst some serious haggling- a skill with which nobody could compare to her own. Closing his eyes, he thanked her for making it so easy for him to skip the commotion for the day.
Being in Ritou was… weird. The air smelled of sweet cherries, petals drifting down into the crest of his palm. He crushed one in his hand, bringing the split flower up to his nose for a stolen moment. This.. ached. The air felt the same as ever, warm and inviting, sending a tingle of excitement down his spine- but no. There was nothing for him to explore here. He had a ship and crew to return to this moon, and an itinerary for the day ahead. There was just no time for reflection at the moment, and so his feet padded on, sweeping against the water caressed ridges of the pier and reaching his first goal. “Obata-Danna! Got any fish for me?” Hair hung into his eyes as he bowed forward to greet the old fisherman. Obata was perhaps a friend, always sneaking him in a deal for his precious catch, despite the lack of benefit to the fisherman himself.
“Bahh of course boy, I need to keep you well fed lest that fancy sword of yours falls limp from your hands!” A rough arm reached around for half an embrace, awkward in the sense of the wanderer being tense from a lack of that very effect as of late. “Same as the last? I got shone down by luck the last haul, mackerel and yellowtail by the basket! Even a couple kohada, kept ‘em real nice for ya eh?” A precious bag of woven reed was placed in his arms, tended to by Obata himself. It had a sturdy weight to it, promising to keep his belly full for the next few weeks if he didn’t get too ahead of himself and indulge.
Deft fingers picked in between the carefully packed fish, landing on the soft and sturdy tawara bag Obata had clearly hidden from first sight. “Obata-Danna.. Are you sneaking me some of your salt again? I do wonder if your dishes at home taste as pleasing to your family when you’re so generous to me.. I am heading to the shops today, you mustn’t go overboard for my sake.” Sparse eyebrows furrowed in concern, but when he looked up to Obata, he was met only with exasperation and the older man fondly shaking his head at the boy, a tired but stern smile sneaking its way onto his weathered face.
“Look, Kaedehara-sama-” At this Kazuha flinched and opened his mouth, words of protest on the tip of his tongue. “Okay, Kazuha-sama. I feel good knowin’ the likes of you are roaming the streets, and I feel even better knowin’ you're healthy ‘n taken care of eh? Don’t fight me boy, that lady of mine made sure to flavour that salt nice an’ good for ya and I’m seeing to it to the end.” His large hands tucked the tawara away, and closed the mouth of the bag into Kazuha's arms. Obata itched his mustache, nodded his head down at the samurai, and turned back to his family’s pierside shop, waving as he went. “Take care now! And.. get a bath eh?” Snickers wrapped around the corner and disappeared past the door that drifted closed behind the burly man. Kazuha's eye twitched and he snuck a hand up to peel back his layers of cloth and get a quick sniff… Oh.. Should I.. perhaps go visit that Aisa place before meeting with Miss Naganohara? A flush danced on his cheeks, messy hair prickling his eyes when he shook his head to remove the visible fluster from his face.
~
The sprawling plains of Byakko stretched in front of the wandering samurai, children's laughter and the excited yipping sounds of small foxes playing trailing into silence behind him now. Every step brought him closer to the city, and anxiety flared under his skin, prickling on the sweat-dampened cotton behind his knees. A nervous swallow constricted his throat, eyes searching endlessly for signs of conflict- for other eyes seeking out his vision. He was not the most inconspicuous traveler, and was sourly aware of that fact. The beautifully patterned silken haori he wore was as eye catching as a wandering man could probably get, he supposed. But despite the nerves clawing at his belly, the plains had nothing amiss. Grass bent and danced in the wind, morning dew turning the sun back to make the sky shine beautifully amidst the soft breeze. The path widened under his feet, dust kicking up under his toes as he skirted around a large sakura tree centred in the clearing before the city proper swallowed him whole. That same sweet fragrant aroma made his muscles relax and bile build up in his throat all the same. Fingers itched along his worn obi, posturing to grasp his katana and move at a moment's notice.
Scuffed geta clacked against the stairs, gravel getting kicked loose from the old steps. The Hayasaka homes greet him against the hillside now, midday sun reaching up and swooning down against the eaves. Tenryou laid just ahead, intimidating in the promise of conflict and long missed acquaintances. Swallowing tensely, he pulled his vision garland into his collar, pulling twice just to make sure that it was truly snug. He hiked the bag of fish into one arm, shifting his gaze into a neutral expression and up onto the adorned curtains beholding the onsen he absolutely needed to acquaint himself with before meeting with the Naganohara family- a good impression is half of good business, really. The earthy aroma of heated rocks and a faint tinge of sweat crawled up his nose, lingering in a way that made him crave the nutty soaps he had heard is their specialty. “Pardon me.. Are there any private baths available at the moment Sir? I would like to secure my sword and goods if that’s alright.” The man at the counter was clearly well fed, tidy glasses perched on his nose.
“Ahh, a traveler from afar! Welcome to the Aisa Bathhouse! We offer only the finest Natlanese inspired experience, and of course we can accommodate your belongings securely! For a price, of course.” He smiled like a true merchant, eyebrows folding up as he took in Kazuha’s state. Leaning in to get friendly, he suddenly scrunched his nose and flinched. “Ah perhaps we can discuss reciprocation after you’ve been helped.. Take a left turn down this hall and secure your belongings in one of our provided lockers. I’ll have to remind you to clean off before you enter the onsen.. Good Sir.” He forced a smile and retreated to slightly leaning behind the counter, shuffling around the few papers he had nearby. Perhaps he was just busy? Kazuha tucked his chin down and got another whiff of himself. Oh.. Oh my. The brine has become overwhelming even to me now.
A grateful nod to the shopkeeper and he headed on his way, going faster with the promise of a good bath on the horizon. Luckily there were no other visitors in the locker room, so he quickly stripped himself of his sweat and salt soiled clothes. Tucking his visions securely into the inner pocket of his kimono and under his haori, he put a clasp around the hatch and walked over to the buckets and soaps. It had been a while since he had seen a bubble last, and a flush of embarrassment and gratitude flared through him at the thought of his state, and how fortunate it was to have the room to himself for the moment. The weary samurai's skin turned pink as he rinsed, muscles relaxing and toes curling at how good it felt just to be clean for the first time in too long, the promise of the long anticipated sentou still awaiting him just around the corner. The thin cotton towel provided to him was tugged securely onto the line of his hips, and he padded towards the open bath room, soles of his feet sticking to the humid tiles.
The soft sound of rolling water drifted into his ears as he turned the corner, a wide bath with shallow ridges to sit on resting in the belly of a wide open room, tall arches full of heavy steam. Kazuha kept his gaze down, watching his toes dip into the thick water while he took in a deep breath through his nose. Sitting down, the water brushed his shoulders and sunk into his muscles, pulling a contented sigh from his lips. The faint feeling of mist collecting on his eyelashes and weighing his hair down made him stretch his arms up to spread the flush washing his body to his cheeks, wiping his face and pulling out the rope securing his hair. It fell down messily, damp ends swirling in the green water, shoulders rolling back as he properly relaxed. Yeah.. This is what I needed. I’ll be much better suited to a proper conversation with the Naganoharas after a good reset. It’s been far too long since I had last had any proper conversation. He paused his thinking as the water abruptly shifted around him. Blinking an eye open, the boy startled to see a familiar shaggy head of hair just a couple of steps in front of him. “Kazuha.. Dono?” Eyes widened at the shock of it all, He hadn’t seen Gorou in many moons, instead opting to spend his time overseas, guilt and sorrow eating him whole some days. He blinked foolishly at the sight of his friend, opening his mouth but no words escaping. “Are you going to be in Tenryou very long? I cannot believe the luck to have chanced on you here- Oh you’ll have to meet a couple of people since you’re here!” A broad smile lit up Gorou’s face, pointed teeth pulling his lips wide.
“I came here because you mentioned it. The water is lovely indeed, I feel as though my aches have all but disappeared.” Kazuha shifted to embrace his friend, getting with the program. He’d been gone for months and now they’re. Naked. In a bath together. After all the time he’s spent cooped up in a stuffy room of a ship, bearing witness to none else but the morning and evening waves, perhaps Beidou and her great sword on a day that called for action. Even then, he’s been used to the feeling of booze pathing the way for nighttime socializing, not realizing until this horrible moment how suddenly out of his depth he feels. “It’s so good to see you my friend, pardon me but did you mention meeting people? Here?” Crimson eyes shift up and circle around, landing on a couple of men not-so-subtly watching their entire exchange. Crimson eyes shift down to his exposed body, normally very well concealed, as an aggressive pink spreads hot like fire across his nose. Water lulls around thighs only veiled thinly by a damp cotton towel, and Kazuha thinks he may die as they wade closer.
A polite looking man and an absolute unit stand beside Gorou, who’s tail is wagging in the water and splashing their bellies with the spray. Well- three of their bellies. The man with the most generous mane of hair he's ever seen- and tall arching horns on his head- The spray didn’t even come close to his mid section due to his monstrous size. A yokai? Intimidation thrums through Kazuha’s veins, stealing a glance at their other company. “Hello, I’m Thoma of the Yashiro commission, but you needn’t worry about that. I’ve heard lots about you from Gorou. It's great to meet you! This is Itto, leader of the Arataki gang.” The man smiled, reaching up fondly into his eyes as he nodded at the caught offguard samurai. Strawberry hair clung to his neck, and all Kazuha could think about was oh man, I haven't been around people in a while. Thoma swallowed, the bob of his throat captured in his eyes through tunnel vision. A drawn out cough rips his attention away and up, up, up, into the grinning face of Itto.
Large teeth peek out of a smirking mouth, and suddenly everything is so much louder. “Hey pal! Ever like to make a bet? I bet I can win against you easy, heh. 500 mora for the winner of a spar? Gorou here tells me you know your way around a sword- pretty flashy with one too! Or hey hey hey! We can use the little guy’s too! Ever picked a good fightin’ bug before?” Sharp alarm slammed into Kazuha and he shook his head tersely, missing half of what the poor fool said. A stern hand touched the oni’s shoulder, putting a pause to his tirade as Thoma blinked telepathically at the boisterous yokai. Gorou’s wagging had stopped midway into Itto’s tirade, concern lacing the tense line of his small frame.
“Ah.. perhaps we can discuss my sword art at another time.. Itto. A pleasure to meet you, nonetheless.” A swift scan of the sentou showed no overly curious gazes, and no hostility from the brief slipup. A relieved sigh clouded out of Kazuha's mouth. They group shifted to huddle against one corner of the pool, Itto’s face twisting into confusion as Gorou gave him a short, though not unkind shake of his head. “What are you all gathered here for, any occasion? The Alcor just anchored off Ritou, a standard supply run for the crew.” Kazuha shook some moisture off his brow, wiping a pruned hand down the now relaxed line of his neck and collecting the more unruly strands of damp white hair off his nape. “My plan is to meet with the Naganoharas for a passover this afternoon, but I would look forward to dinner if you all are otherwise unaccounted for?” White eyelashes scrunch as a stray drop of water gets stuck in his eye, blinking up at the group of men around him and seeing Gorou already vigorously nodding his head to the proposal.
“I would love to host you all at the Komore teahouse, I’d just been in Ritou shopping for ingredients for hotpot! I bet it’ll blast even your tongue straight off Itto.” A raised eyebrow and pointed smirk from Thoma had the poor oni opening his mouth wide in a steady stream of rebuttals, but- but- buts and “Hey that was an exception!” getting lost in the laughter bubbling at the embarrassed yokais sake. Fragrant onsen water whorled around sturdy thighs as the group stepped out onto the ledge and walked into the hall, taka taka tak- dripping onto the tiles now that another meeting had been decided on. I wish I had a moment to wash my clothes, yet I cannot regret the time spent loitering here. A soft smile settled onto the samurai's warmed face, wrapping himself in his safe, familiar kimono, hand grasping his visions tenderly for just a lingering, stolen moment. It’s.. so nice, to embrace trusted companions. A deep breath pulled into his belly and out through his mouth, and worn geta clacked against the main hallway of the bathhouse once more. Shaking his head to absolve his reverie, he looked up to find a gentle lady gazing down at him with an expression one could only receive as expectantly concerned.
Shaggy white hair fell down as Kazuha nodded to the lady, the rumoured investor behind the sentou’s recent development? Though not appearing as hostile, she carried with her a scent of intrepid curiosity, mouth opening swiftly in a cascade of gentle singsong. “The.. Past has a way of making its lessons echo forward, circling round and round until they root very deep, like the sturdy soil of a well tended nihon teien..” The lady blinked owlishly at the confused samurai, nodding to herself with a quiet hum and spinning around the corner to the far room in the back of the bathhouse, light on her feet as though carrying the weight of a drifting petal. His geta paused briefly, then continued out through the flowing indigo curtains and into the free drifting winds of the city proper beyond.
~
Grey clouds swam in the sky above, the acrid smell carried on the winds bringing a promise of conflict on the horizon.. Though he could not yet tell the depth of the well. A bandaged hand raised up to cut the air, feeling for what laid ahead. A storm tonight.. Will I make it back to the Alcor before the outpour falls upon us? The slight frown draping Kazuha’s face swiftly became one of exertion, salted haori sleeves rubbing against the clean wood of a precious yet weighty crate he heaved up and onto a workshop bench. “Is here okay, Naganohara-Dono?” Sweat had bloomed on the curve of his back, the dead weight of the order catching him entirely by surprise. Did Beidou ever mention how many she was ordering, and what for? Perhaps a clash? Is she planning on a visit to the harbour for a meeting with the Tianquan? Regret for thinking this outing was the easier option for the day sagged his shoulders down, before a quick shake of the head to remind himself that he was incredibly fortunate to meet with so many long unseen acquaintances; This day was a boon if anything, nothing close to a hindrance on his journey.
“What, you tired already boy? Hoho!” The older man spoke with mirth, head angled so Kazuha was facing the curve of Mr Naganohara’s ear. “My Yoimiya should be around any second now with those tasty dango she whips up- Oh, just thinkin’ of em gets the old bones giddy!” A calloused hand, frail with the passage of time came down to excitedly tap on his shoulder at the sight of the wooden door swinging open and thudding with too swift excitement to share. The second energetic strawberry blonde of the day came hurtling out the door, plate of three dango skewers and a pitcher of fresh orangeade in tow, if the smell blowing through the door and wafting down the street was anything to go by. A quick chuckle rolled out of Kazuha's throat as he winked at Mr Naganohara for the timely announcement, smiling up at his friend.
Bright eyes turned up at the cheek from the smile she wore, just as pretty as she’d always been, even when clambering towards the crowded bench and stool that sat under the shade of their stall’s bannered overhang. “We haven't seen you around in a few months Kazuha! How has the water been treating you? Was the journey into the city okay?” The worry in her voice was shielded by the innocuous turn of phrase, and a knowing glance was shared between the young pair unbeknownst to her father. A gentle nod came as a response from the boy, a small hum on his breath as leaned forward to fill their cups with her carefully prepared drink, the soft flesh of the tender dango peeling stickily off eachother from the humidity cresting as the sun fell down the horizon.
“I met with Gorou and his acquaintances at the Aisa bathhouse today, we had planned to meet at dusk for a dinner.. Thoma’s treat, he said. I don’t suppose that name rings a bell? Housekeeper to a-” He paused for an indulgent moment here, brow quirked up watching the flush dance across Yoimiya’s round cheeks, while her eyes flitted anywhere but up to his own steady gaze. “Kamisato clan? I do wonder if he has a close bond with the lady Ayaka..? Perhaps she will even join in on the fun too, quite the auspicious setting for dining if you ask me.” A glance to his left showed that Mr Naganohara had gotten distracted watching the birds swoop and play in the late afternoon painted skies, wind picking up now to sweep them further out with ease. A groan brought his attention back to his companion, who had an incredibly determined look plastered throughout every tensed muscle on her petite frame.
“Kazuhaaa, you’re doing that on purpose. Of course I’ll go, I could never miss something fun like that when you’re in town anyways. But that’s playing dirty and you know it! A bottle of their fancy mirin on you, if you’d please!” Ah, and though he started this game, the claws of the cat had gotten him in the end. Sneaky. “Plus, the way you keep wriggling your hands n’ turning up to the skies makes me feel like rain is going to come. Stay the night? Like old times?” A resolute sigh rolled from his lips, shrug falling down his shoulders with a couple bobs of ascent towards his friend.
~
Steady rainfall tapped deceivingly gently on the eaves of the homes and shops around them, pata pata pata-ing with the growing gusts of day turned dusk. Geta clacked in duet along the packed down path to the teahouse, lanterns aglow in the city streets and windows of residential homes, casting a delicate orange hue to the faded streets now that evening had rolled around. Yoimiya was humming a gentle tune to herself, the soundtrack of their short walk before they could eat. It had been a few hours since the dango, and the exertion of the day was catching up to the unadjusted samurai. Kazuha’s belly twinged with hunger, or if his intuition served correct, something more. The sakura trees in the city reflected the lanterns' light through their translucent petals, making a myriad of shifting shadows to accompany them down the street. A beautiful garden opened up on their left, hanging lanterns swaying with the wind and banners turning dark from the damp air around them. The sign above the doors read Komore, and the pair ducked their heads through the front curtains to pause and remove their geta in the entryway. Yoimiya ran a dextrous hand through the thick fur of their greeter, a giggle singing from her mouth as he lolled his tongue out to lap at what was most likely sticky dango residue on her wrist. “Ooh, hey Taroumaru! What a good boy saying hello right when we got in! Yeah? Yeah?” She cooed at the shiba, fingers scritching under his chin before turning to walk down the hallway to where their friends were awaiting them.
Kazuha’s socks slid on the smooth tatami flooring, anticipation building for his first talkative evening in quite some time. I wonder what the cost for sweet mirin is these days.. Right in the hubbub of the city, it must amount to a hefty sum.. Crafty girl. The room they had turned into was dimly lit by astray lanterns and candles, the fire beneath a large pot sizzling away with fragrant amber fluid, catching the attention of his nose blindsidingly quickly. The noise of companions greeting eachother and embracing at the door was drowned out as his gaze widened at the criminally large selections of finely cut meats, mushrooms, and vegetables for them to indulge with. Floral vases of sake, more than he could ever hope to drink in an evening even, strewn across the edge of the table. If only Beidou could see this! Or.. Perhaps not. Wouldn’t last quite so long. Kazuha chuckled to himself, imagining the state they’d be in had he extended an invitation to the Captain in time. “Impressed by the spread? Don’t worry,” a gentle laugh came from across the room, “I wouldn’t let Thoma add his fixings directly into the broth, so it should be truly safe and enjoyable for us all.” Ah, so the lady Ayaka did appear for the evening. A sly glance cast in Yomiya's direction confirmed an angry red flush curving the tips of her ears, and he smiled.
The samurai bent down in a deep bow, eyes closing as he greeted the lady of clan Kamisato exactly as had been instilled in him from as young as he could hold his first utensils. “It is an honour, Lady Ayaka. Thank you for graciously treating us to this meal. I would hope to reciprocate in any capacity that I am able.. I swear that you will all rest comfortably through the storm this evening.” Pulling himself up into a more relaxed posture, he smiled and nodded once more at the clan's princess. He was no fool; For her to come unannounced to a gathering such as this meant she wanted- perhaps needed, something borne from the evening. His heart led him to hope for young love, though the rain outside smacked the roof, wind throwing itself against the sturdy walls of the establishment and he knew that they would have to spare a generous moment for the days ahead. “Would you happen to carry any fancy mirin ferments within Komore? I know of a few beautiful ladies more than deserving of the best there is to taste.” A wink was thrown towards the lady, and he hooked his arm through the curve of Yoimiya’s elbow, plopping them down in tandem to the soft round cushions surrounding the feast.
He drowned out the sounds of conversation erupting from the two girls, serving them both a generous cup of Komore’s house mirin- melon and amakumo aged for one full moon, according to Thoma. If he was any greedier a man he’d have snuck in a pour of his own, but he’d remain steadfast on his goal to treat them tonight- plus, Beidou might really have called for his head had she found out he spent her mora rations for the city on something as frivolous as a drink without her even being present. Shaking his head, he turned to Gorou after a quick headcount left a question on his tongue. “Gorou-Donno, where is that large friend of yours, the oni? Has he run into any trouble getting here?” Sparse brows furrowed in concern, gaze turned up at his loyal friend in question.
“Ahh, no need to worry about that. Shinobu-Sama heard of his slip up earlier, and figured the night would go by smoother without him traipsing through the city.. Not really much of anywhere to conceal anything with how he's always running amok shirtless, ha!” Pointed ears turned downwards, and the slow thud of his friend’s tail could be heard nervously sweeping against the smooth tatami beneath their folded legs. “I think I’ll go bring him some meat and a bottle of sake or so for the gang, I know its between those two but I can't help but feel as though I’ve left him on his own tonight, hmwmf” A sigh bordering on whimper came from his lips, fingers spinning the meat between his chopsticks a little too quickly for a nice even cook. Kazuha took pity on his friend, giving him a large pour of sake and patting his shoulder amicably.
“The time will come, worry for him later. No need to sour your own night to stew in what could, but will not come to pass.” Taking a generous sip of his own drink and chasing it with a hefty mouthful of good meat, he slouched down in his seat and took a deep breath in, letting a pleasant flush extend across his cheeks and creeping up the curve of his ears. Quiet conversation grew into large bellows and hands slapping the flooring in laughter, Ayaka and Yoimiya leaning in towards eachother and giggling at every little exchange. Pleased to sit in the middle of it all and bask in the moment, Kazuha’s thoughts drifted astray. To a time he may have crowded another's space, giggling like a fool into a warm neck with a flush racing down his spine. Of warm hands holding him like a precious thing, not only a samurai of keen skill and callous violence. Ahhh.. What... Was I thinking about? Drooping eyes took stock of the companions around him, bellies full of warm food and skin flushed pink with high quality drinks. He really oughta thank Thoma in the morning, but not now, no- head hanging down, small of his back being caressed by the young lord. This, was news to him. It seemed everyone had someone to embrace, and it put a resentful smile onto his face.
Jealousy raced through him like a tide, crashing against his ribs with surprising force. He was truly happy for all of his companions, in such a divided time it was so important to have eachother- and yet. He ached. Ever since he set foot on the soft grasses of his homeland, wind adrift of a past left behind- he ached, terribly. The pounding of the rain drummed along to his staggering heartbeat now, and he put down the half full cup of sake he’d been nursing against his palm only for it to slosh against the rim of the cup and drip down onto the table below. A tired sigh escaped him, just as he realized several of the people that had just been sitting near must have migrated to other rooms for the night. Gorou seemed content to curl up on the mat right there, and lacking the heart to jostle him he hoisted himself up to check on the girls. Soft laughter echoed down the hall, telling him that they had elected to continue their own gathering in the privacy of more sheltered quarters- he was truly happy they were safe and with eachother for the evening.
A misstep led to Kazuha sliding against the wall of the teahouse, not yet familiar with the sprawling halls nor the lack of extra weight his familiar geta brought him. Extra rooms had been outfitted into reasonable bedrooms for the party when they had considered the storm, and it appeared he had gotten the room quite at the end of the building, nearest to the exit. The flow of air within the building brought with it hushed voices and muted garbling, barely enough to make out without some guilten straining. “Good boy, good boy, I’ve got you…,” A flush came back to the drunken samurai’s face as he realized he was overhearing an exchange between the young lord and his housekeeper- definitely not meant for his ears. Murmurs of praise for the blond amid retching grew dimmer as he finally reached the door to the room he was allocated to, sliding it shut softly behind him.
Stumbling to the mat and quilt laid out for him, he hastily pulled off his haori and obi with clumsy fingers, curling up against the cold mat alone. Pulling three deep breaths in through his nose, deep into his belly, and out through lips- still damp from the sake of a pleasant evening, stifled hiccups tore through his frame between calloused fingers. Salt dampened his cheeks as he lay there, a waking nightmare stuck in his mind.
~