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A soft whimper escaped quivering lips and the hunched over figure of Utsusemimaru trembled. His eyes fluttered as he drifted in and out of sleep, memories of a blood stained past burdening his subconscious.
“Milord, forgive me,” he murmured.
Fire. Fire in every direction.
The faces of his past comrades and Lord swept before Utsusemimaru’s eyes, each lingering only long enough to call his name, voices and eyes filled to the brim with hatred. Their voices mixed together and rang against his ear drums, echoing loudly accusations of betrayal and cowardace.
“Mi-Milord, my comrades, I beg forgiveness,” Utsusemimaru cried as he buried his face into the forearm he was resting on. “I-I beg forgiveness!”
“Utchi, hey, Utchi, wake up!”
The hand shaking him jolted Utsusemimaru awake and he straightened up violently, almost knocking himself and the person beside him over in the process. His head spun when he turned it, eyes darting around the room as a bead of cold sweat dripped from his chin.
“Hey!”
Strong hands clasped his shoulders and forced the gold warrior to sit still, his eyes finally focusing on the person in front of him.
“Sir Ian,” Utsusemimaru whispered, sounding lost.
“You alright?” Ian asked softly, his brows pulled together in a look of concern.
His head was still spinning and his heart raced at an uncomfortable rate. It wasn’t until he moved his hand to clutch at his chest did he notice that he was shaking. The memories of his nightmare were fading fast, however the heaviness in his chest remained. Movement in his peripheral vision brought Utsusemimaru’s attention back to his comrade who was watching him with an intense expression.
“Yes, I am,” Utsusemimaru answered quickly as he moved his hand to Ian’s forearm, pulling them gently off his shoulders and bowing his head.
Ian reluctantly dropped his hands to his side and sat down on the seat behind him. The Spirit Base was always quiet in the middle of the day- Nossan, Souji and Amy were away living their lives and King had run off to do some charity or poke his nose somewhere it didn’t belong. Torin, today was also out meeting with the Spirit Rangers, leaving the black and gold members of the team alone in the base’s main space.
The former had waited a moment while his teammate caught his breath before speaking, he propped one arm up on the table beside him.
“That sounded like a pretty nasty dream,” Ian said casually. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Utsusemimaru shifted uncomfortably, folding his hands on his lap and glancing up nervously. He preferred to avoid the topic where possible, but as he looked up, he noticed the way Ian was watching him, his brows still knitted together in concern and patiently waiting for a response. He noted that the hot shot hero did not look entirely comfortable himself, undoubtedly disliking the idea of discussing any deep emotions, so Utsusemimaru thought to put them both out of their misery.
“Nay, it is not a matter I wish to burden you with, Sir Ian,” he answered after some contemplation.
Ian smirked at the response, causing Utsusemimaru to tilt his head in confusion. He was speaking honestly and did not see what there was to laugh about. Ian smiled at him, “Are you still going to be like that? King’s always saying it isn’t he? We’re a team, we share our burdens.”
“I must refuse,” Ustusemimaru shook his head stubbornly. “While I agree with Sir King’s notions of our team structure, my past is mine to carry.”
“Listen to me, Utchi,” Ian said, holding up his characteristic finger gun. “If I’ve learned anything from that babbling idiot; it’s how to let go of my past. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t opened up to King.”
Memories of their encounters with Aigaron floated into Utsusemimaru’s mind; he had never heard the story from Ian’s mouth, but he’d pieced enough of it together. Properly thinking about it for the first time, the Sengoku warrior pondered how similar he and the team’s gunman were. The way they’d lost someone dear to them, how the Debos Legion used their grief against them, how behind the smiles and love for their team, Utsusemimaru saw the same darkness in Ian’s eyes that he often saw in his own.
Taking a deep breath, Utusemimaru made the decision to trust his new team, as he had learned to trust Daigo as his new leader. With a pained expression, he recounted the tale of his former Lord and how he fell at the hands of the Debos Legion. He told Ian of the comrades he’d lost and the blunder he’d made that ultimately cost his Lord his life. Ian listened intently, nodding only once or twice.
“I remember it as though it were yesterday,” he concluded his story, turning his shaking hands to look at his palms. “Holding my Lord in these very arms as his life slipped from his body.”
The pain and grief grew like an unseen darkness inside Utsusemimaru and he bowed his head. He pressed his knees together and his fists clenched on his lap, willing himself to keep himself together. This was why he trained in the morning, why he threw himself into taking care of the team; because if he were left alone with his thoughts, the darkness would swallow him whole.
The same hand that had pulled him from his nightmares now clasped itself around his fingers, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him sideways. Ian had pulled his seat beside Utsusemimaru’s so that their knees bumped against each other. The guman gently wrapped one arm around his comrade’s shoulders until the latter had his head rested on the former’s shoulder.
The darkness began to dissolve, slowly but surely, Utsusemimaru closed his eyes and willed his body to stop shaking. They sat in silence, each grasping the other’s hand tightly.
“I’ll protect this team, within my line of fire,” Ian said softly, easing them out of the silence. “That’s what I swore the day King brought me out the hell I was living in for months.”
Utsusemimaru heard Ian laugh and his head bounced lightly on the other’s shoulder. He lifted himself up and was met with a kind smile as Ian pulled away, crossing his legs and throwing his head back.
“That includes you, Utchi,” Ian said, tilting his head to look back and peering down his nose to meet eyes with his teammate. “King told me, that until I made the shot I had missed the day Shirou died, I would never stop regretting it. I made the shot and I’ve started moving forward; now I fight to protect Shirou’s memory. I won’t let what happened to him, happen to any more of my friends. It’s the least I can do.”
“Sir Ian,” Utsusemimaru murmured as he looked away and processed his friend’s words.
Yes, Ian was his friend, as was Daigo and the rest of the team. Utsusemimaru had lost so much all those centuries ago and so much had changed since then. The Debos Legion however were still on the loose and threatening those he held dear; he would not let the past repeat itself.
“That worried look doesn’t suit you,” Ian smiled, pulling a red gerbera out of his back pocket and holding in front of Utsusemimaru’s surprised face. “Come on, smile.”
“This is…” Utsusemimaru took the flower curiously, glancing up to see a slightly different smile on Ian’s face. He studied it, unsure as to why it seemed so much less natural, then Erika’s words returned to him.
“Uh, yeah,” Ian laughed awkwardly. “The flower’s left over from that massive order I did for Erika before she went back to Europe, and you were the one to teach me back then about being true to my feelings, so…”
“I return it to you!”
“Come again?”
Utsusemimaru thrust his arms forward, the flower swung back and forth, hitting Ian gently on the nose.
“Lady Erika highly praised your kindness, she told me you often put yourself ahead of others, helping others forget their problems. However, you also carry your own burdens, and today, I wish to help you forget them!”
Not waiting for a response, he quickly took Ian’s hands and returned the flower to him before placing his own hands on his knees, puffing his chest out triumphantly.
“Such a look of sadness does not befit your features, Sir Ian, you must smile!”
The surge of energy ran through Utsusemimaru, he bounced in his seat as he surveyed Ian’s face, the look of confusion on his face slowly making him lose faith in his plan.
Then Ian laughed, clutching the flower to his chest. He looked up with a grin and both men began to laugh. Their pasts were tainted; their hearts scarred, but every time they smiled, the fires dimmed and the cries in their nightmares faded away just a little bit. Utsusemimaru would risk his every breath to protect his new friends from the ones that took away his past ones.
“Let’s do your Lord and Shirou proud, Utchi!” Ian exclaimed, patting his friend enthusiastically on the shoulder.
A wide grin spread across the warrior’s face and he nodded.
“Aye!”