Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sara had a feeling when she woke up at 5:06am that the day was going to be unlucky. She had broken one of her getas after tripping over a child’s toy on the steps outside the city. A hole had torn through her pack and sent her supplies tumbling out onto the grass. She had just missed a visit from Ei at the Encampment; by the time she had been told she had a visitor, Ei’s packed lunch had gone cold.

She kicked herself. What an awful day.

Still, she had to look on the bright side. How else could she have forged ahead when the future was never a promise? Her geta was quickly replaced by a shoemaker, her pack repaired by a tailor, and her stomach went unpoisoned from Ei’s notoriously questionable concoction.

All of these problems -- born from her faults -- were fixed by others.

Well, except for Ei - she was… an outlier, in every regard.

But when Sara’s arrow strayed just so from her target and wound up in a finch’s nest, she felt her resolve start to crumble. Could she do anything right?

“General Kujou.” One of her men spoke up as he approached her. He snapped to attention, sweat on his brow.

Sara shook off her thoughts. It was the heat getting to her. “Matsudaira. At ease.”

Matsudaira’s stance relaxed, but his demeanor did not. “May I speak… freely?” he asked, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. Sara’s gaze followed his - …aha. A few men from the company were doing their best to be discreet as they obviously intended to tune-in to the conversation. Unacceptable.

“Come,” she said. With a sidelong tilt of her head, she directed him on where they would walk to - a secluded area in the shade, too far from the training grounds for any stray ears to linger. “Now, speak.”

He gulped. “I pray you do not consider me out of line for this, G-General Kujou,” he said, intent on looking anywhere but her eyes.

“Go on.”

His eyes widened as she crossed her arms. He didn’t want to take up her time, but… “I am afraid I have a matter of grave importance that I must ask you to hear out.”

It was clear he was stalling. Sara bit the inside of her cheek to keep from losing her patience. How often did she drill into their heads the idea of respect ?

“... Go on. ”

“It’s just that…” he started, looking behind him at the distant company, as if seeking reassurance. “...We’re worried. About you , General Kujou.”

Perhaps anger wasn’t the first emotion he expected from her, but it was the first one he saw.

“ Why? ” came Sara’s curt reply. Her eyes were narrowed like a hunter focused on her prey, and he never felt so easily killable before in his life.

“Well! We…!” He took in a deep breath to keep from stammering. How many others had sought to correct General Kujou and made it out alive ? He knew he had made a mistake.

“ We? ”

“Um, a few others a-and I, that is. We think that… you haven’t been…” He grimaced with all of the strength of someone whose life was about to be snuffed out, “... yourself, lately.”

Sara’s wings shot out behind her, with enough force to cause several crow feathers fluttering down. The wings made her appear even larger than usual, and even more terrifying.

When she spoke, her words did not have the force of impatience behind it, but with the deadly chill before a storm. “Excuse me?”

Oh, he did not miss the glow of her eyes, even if it only lasted a second.

“I-I mean …!” he choked out, raising his hands in an attempt to placate either her, or his nerves. He remembered himself, and straightened - General Kujou had always mentioned the worth every samurai had, on or off the battlefield. It would do no good to disservice her teachings by groveling. Matters of health were serious, and General Kujou was known to overwork herself. He cleared his throat as he squared his shoulders and tilted his chin up towards her. “Several of us have concerns towards the subject of your health, General.”

With a slow nod, Sara’s face softened. “My health? Enlighten me.”

Face scrunched up, he silently moved his lips as he thought of an effective wording. “We have noticed instances of missing appointments…” he said, glancing up for a second. “When I walked past your office, your desk was cluttered… ”

Sara watched him as he wrung his hands, then moved them behind his back.

“General Kujou, forgive me, as this is not my business, but… are you alright ? Your…” His hands reached up and hovered over his eyes. “Your eyes have dark bags under them, you haven’t seemed to be there during drills.”

As much as Sara felt the need to snap at him -- she hardly knew him, and how embarrassing it felt to be taken to task by an inferior -- she equally felt taken aback. How much have her standards slipped? If one unranked samurai could notice so much, how much else was there?

“Do you require aid in preparing for our trip?”

She frowned and Matsudaira stared in earnest. He rocked on the balls of his feet, unable to keep still as he waited for her response.

“Have I proven myself inadequate as your General?” Sara asked. She felt beside herself that her men could notice her shortcomings before her; although her question was not fair, there laid genuine undercurrents beneath it.

“N-no! Not at all!”

She knew his response before he said it. It was unsatisfying, and proved nothing to her.

“I have not needed help before, and it will not start now,” she said.

Despite her denial, she warmed up to the idea. Having someone around to lessen her burden might be good…

No, no! How weak - she had always proved how resilient she was -- alone. And it would stay that way.

“Dismissed,” she snapped.

With a jump, Matsudaira scurried back to his fellow samurai. Sara watched him go, wondering for a moment how long it would take before the contents of their conversation became public knowledge.

She slipped into her office and started to pace. How useless she had become in the eyes of her men! What a disgrace. What a disgrace!

With a heavy kick at her desk, a pile of papers were tossed off the side. Sara watched the documents and reports flutter to the ground with a cold glare.

What would she say to her Shogun, had she found out? She grit her teeth at the thought. Perhaps Ei would defend her, but… how could anyone’s words fix her mistakes?

She walked over to an armor set strung up, hardly used. Wiping a layer of dust off of it with her hand, she stole a glance at her reflection… Matsudaira was correct, she looked worse for wear.

With a grimace, she moved away from the sight. Despite her compulsion to wipe down the rest of the armor, she liked that it accrued so much dust - it meant that she had no need for it, her skills proving to be more than adequate.

But was that still the truth? Was she any more than a tengu of misfortune, bad luck following her like a shadow? Could she succeed even once without mistakes? Could she ever become a true leader if she could not maintain perfection?

Perhaps her nightmares held a kernel of truth to them, after all.

She knew she needed to regroup, away from her men. Failure had already crept up beside her, and she needed to prove it did not belong next to the name Kujou Sara.

Maybe she should bring the armor with her on their military retreat, after all.

“You could never be enough, Kujou Sara,” the looming visage of Ei snarled. She raised her polearm to strike. “You will never be more than a worthless, miserable stain in the history of my eternity!”

A loud clap of thunder shocked Sara awake, the source tightening her grip around Sara’s waist.

“What was it, this time?” Ei asked. She did her best not to sound too concerned, but wasn’t sure she succeeded.

Sara caught her breath and laid back down, turning away from the only source of love she had ever known. She felt Ei press against her back. What delicious warmth… Sara couldn’t hold back a pleased sigh at the closeness - it was a feeling she couldn’t dare become used to. She knew what would happen if she did.

Feeling her eyes sting, Sara swallowed. She pinched the skin on the back of her hand, focusing on the sensation to distract herself from her pained heart.

What a privilege to have her Shogun be with her, again, still . Still.

“Sara?” Ei urged.

Something was wrong -- moreso than usual. Sara was quick to answer Ei, but this was new. It worried Ei.

She propped up on an elbow and asked again. With no answer, she placed a hand on Sara’s arm and gently shook her.

Perhaps she had fallen asleep so quickly? Ei wouldn’t have blamed her; a month straight of nightmares was bound to lead to severe exhaustion, and Ei would be remiss if the obvious symptoms of such didn’t weigh on her heart.

“I hope you can find solace in your dreams, little bird,” Ei whispered. She trailed her fingers along Sara’s jaw, and leaned forward. “I will be with you in sleep and in wakefulness.” She planted a kiss on Sara’s cheek and smiled. “My hero.”

As Sara felt Ei’s arm cross over her mid-section and snuggle into her, she felt hot tears track down her cheeks.

When will Ei realize that Sara was no hero? She was a coward, unworthy, a failure… Anything but a hero.

When will Ei wake up?