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The wind is howling outside when Taka wakes up with a jolt, heart beating wildly in his chest and covered in a cold sweat. At first, the unfamiliar surroundings he finds himself in only add to his panic -then he recognizes the sleeping form of Yuna beside him, and that’s enough for him to somewhat settle down.
He remembers. He’s not in Azamo Bay anymore. They’re in Akashima -near the coast, on the way north to the Yarikawa prefecture. They’ve been travelling together for a few days now -him, Yuna and Lord Sakai; camping under the stars when they couldn’t find shelter, hiding themselves in the woods or under ridges, away from the roads patrolled by the invaders.
They got lucky tonight. They’d spied fat, dark clouds hanging heavy on the horizon all day, promising a miserable night. But Yuna remembered of a lone house on the way north -it lies abandoned, now; its inhabitants, most likely forced to flee to the village or to a survivor camp, in the best scenario.
In their circumstances, it serves just perfectly as a shelter for the night.
The window panels rattle as another vicious gust of wind hits them, making him jump. Taka can hear and smell rain in the air. Maybe that’s what woke him up. The windows are shut, to keep the cold out -and even if inside it is not warm by any means, with the images of his dreams seared behind his eyelids, Taka feels as if the very air itself is attempting to choke the breath out of him.
His eyes catch a faint light coming from outside the shoji -warm and flickering. A lantern, set on the ground, just outside.
He holds onto it as he makes his way to the door, stumbling slightly in the darkness, following it like a siren. He’s addled enough that he almost walks right into Lord Sakai’s sitting form, just outside of the door, who turns to watch him curiously.
“Oh. My apologies, my lord”, he says. He’s glad the lantern’s light is not strong enough to illuminate him completely. He can feel his face burning already.
“No need for that. Is everything alright?”, the samurai asks, voice soft.
He’s only wearing the soft clothes he usually wears under his sturdier traveling’s attire. He’s sitting in seiza, holding what Taka recognizes as a cup taken from the house’s dusty pantry -then a familiar smell hits.
“Yes. That is Yuna’s tea”, Taka points out.
Lord Sakai nods, first in assent then to the teapot next to his knee. “I don’t have anything else on me. And it’s a good blend.”.
Taka doesn’t understand. Not the tea -Yuna’s shared it with them plenty of times already, after all; what he doesn’t get is why would Lord Sakai want to sit outside, in the cold and the rain, in the middle of the night. Sure, the awning they’re under shields them from the worst of it, but -while fresh air is a blessing for his receding panic, there’s a bite to it that makes even just standing there a very uncomfortable experience.
He doesn’t dare to ask, of course. It is not his place to question Lord Sakai’s motives -especially on something as trivial as that. Yet, he can’t really do much to quell his own curiosity.
Lord Sakai fills the silence when Taka fails to do so. “We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow”, he observes, dark eyes rising to study him. His face is, as usual, plain -not emotionless, but tightly controlled. Every movement and word is measured and weighed carefully before he goes through with it. “You couldn’t sleep?”.
“No, my lord”, Taka admits.
“Sit”, says the samurai, holding out a hand next to him. “If you’d like”, he adds.
Taka sits down. His position is not quite as straight as Lord Sakai’s, but an attempt was at least made.
Lord Sakai takes another chipped cup from the tray that he’d brought from the inside and fills it with tea. He passes it to Taka, who accepts it with a small bow. The smell is soothing and familiar, and the tea has cooled enough by then that he can take a sip.
“Did you dream?”, the other man asks after a while.
Taka wonders, for a brief moment, how he guessed. “I did.”.
“Was it Azamo Bay?”.
Taka isn’t wearing his headband, so when he lowers his head a little, gaze lost in the depths of his cup, his hair spills over his face like a black curtain. He doesn’t bother with putting it back behind his ear, and he nods. “There was a family kept in a cage, near the forge... they kept me at”, he says. “I could hear them when I worked. The mother would sing to her child often -to soothe her when she cried.”.
Jin’s eyes soften visibly. “You don’t have to tell me.”.
“I don’t mind.”. He takes another sip. Yuna’s tea is bitter but familiar, even if Jin hasn’t brewed it exactly as she does. “One night -I was sleeping next to the forge. It was still… I had been captured by only a few days. I was still chained to it.
“I heard movement outside, and I couldn’t quite see what was going on. But I heard. She screamed for a long time -and the child… she didn’t stop too, even after they were done with her mother. When it got quiet, I could still hear their voices ringing in my ears… and I still hear them in my dreams”, he shudders, gripping the cup so tight that his knuckles went white. “I could’ve… I should’ve done something. Anything. Now they’re haunting me for it.”.
“You said you were chained”, the samurai points out. His voice is softer than before -but when Taka turns to him he can see rage simmering deep in his eyes. He’s intimidated -he’s always intimidated by Lord Sakai, and to be fair, it’s an easy thing to be in his presence. He knows, and has seen first-hand, just how formidable of a warrior he is: how easily he kills, even butchers, the fools who dare cross him. But he also knows his fury is not aimed at him at all. “You couldn’t have done anything. And even if you weren’t, you would’ve died for it. What happened wasn’t your fault”, he goes on.
Taka doesn’t have anything to say to that. It is logical, by any means.
That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. He shakes his head, and another gust of frigid wind makes him shudder, shoulders rising higher to his ears.
Lord Sakai doesn’t say anything for a long time. The wind lets up slightly, and from battering the rain turns gentler. It doesn’t get brighter -it is still, after all, so late into the night it is probably early, but the howling dies down, gradually getting replaced by a softer hiss.
“I often dream of Komoda”, Lord Sakai says, eventually. Taka looks up from his cup, curiously -his eyes are fixated in the dark, over where the sea would be if they could see it. He’s not dishevelled, but the knot he usually keeps his hair in is looser than usual, letting more strands sneak their way out of it. The wind picks them up and makes them dance and curl attractively around his face.
Taka isn’t blind. He knows Lord Sakai is a very handsome man -he’s noticed it, just as many others did. He hasn’t really wondered about him before getting to know him personally -he knows, distantly, that despite being well into marrying age he never took a wife, nor has any paramour or relationship attached to him by virtue of rumours.
It feels wrong, to be ogling him now when he’s talking about something so personal -maybe even attempting to comfort him.
“The battle was a living nightmare on its own. Everywhere you turned there were bodies strewn about, mangled -so torn you couldn’t even tell if they were ours or theirs. And those who weren’t dead yet were screaming -grasping at your feet as you were running through them, trampling them. I couldn’t do anything about it. I could only focus on my uncle -on Lord Shimura”, he corrects himself. He speaks with his eyes closed, long lashes fanning prettily over his cheeks as he recollects those horrors. “To make sure he survived.”.
“What do you dream of?”, Taka asks before he can think better of it.
“Screams. The blood, the smell”, Lord Sakai answers. “The way I was hurting when I fell.”.
Taka shudders at the thought. “I wish I was as brave as you are, my lord.”.
“Brave?”, asks the other man with a hint of confusion, eyes fluttering open.
“You went through so much”, Taka explains, earnestly -admiringly, even. “You still do. You fight for all of us -both in your waking hours and even in your sleep. And yet, you do not falter.”.
Lord Sakai huffs, and his lips curl slightly upwards. “Duty has nothing to do with bravery. Nor do my nightmares.”.
“Then how do you do it, my lord? If you don’t mind me asking”, Taka adds, hurriedly.
The samurai turns to look at him after that. “You know that already. You are a brave man, Taka.”. He must catch the doubt that rises in him at hearing those words on his face, because he presses on. “You were in the hands of the Mongols for weeks, and yet you survived when many others didn’t. That is not just luck. You fought for yourself, kept holding on despite everything going on around you, until Yuna finally managed to help you. That is no small feat.”.
“But you’ve said it, my lord”, replies Taka, eyes going down in shame. “My sister -and you- saved me, and the people in Azamo Bay. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even save myself.”.
“Being unable to fight doesn’t equate to cowardice. It just means you’re untrained, and that is something that can be amended”, Lord Sakai countered, tone even and mild. “You wouldn’t expect a lord to put down the sword and be able to work the forge with the same finesse that you have.”.
It is not posed as such, yet Taka feels that the last statement is basically a rhetorical question. He interprets it as one, and he finds himself answering anyway. “No, my lord.”.
“Then you’ll understand if we didn’t expect you to put down your tools, brandish a sword and liberate a city single-handedly. Bravery is not that.”. Taka looks up again at his words and finds Lord Sakai looking at him with an intensity he hasn’t been ever subjected to, yet. It makes his heart do something weird behind his ribs. “You are a brave man.”.
Taka feels a curious mix of emotions, at that. On one side, he can’t help but feel oh so very dubious of the samurai’s words -it’s something so deeply ingrained in his mind, at this point, that it’s hard to shake it away. But on the other side -Lord Sakai is no liar. And deep inside, he knows he’s not wrong, even if he can’t quite bring himself to accept it yet.
“Thank you, Lord Sakai”, he says, bowing his head slightly.
Both their cups are empty by that point. The warrior goes to retrieve his cup, but Taka stops him and starts putting them away himself. “Please, allow me”, he says. “It’s the least I can do.”.
“Thank you.”.
He gathers the cups and the teapot, putting them back on their tray, clinking against each other. They can wash them tomorrow, he reckons. He’s about to go back inside when he realizes, however, that the other man isn’t following. “You’re not going back to sleep, my lord?”, he asks, once again before he can think better of it.
Once again, Lord Sakai doesn’t seem phased by his nagging. “I will, soon”, he answers. “I’ll sit here and listen to the rain just for a while longer. I find it soothing.”.
It’s a very simple thing -a trifle confession, really, if one can even call it that -yet Taka feels somewhat honored that Lord Sakai chose him of all people to know such a personal, little thing about him. It makes him feel warm, somehow, despite the cold wind still sweeping the coast. It’s disconcerting enough that, for a moment, Taka is at a loss for words. “Ah. I see. Sleep well, my lord”, is what he settles for, haltingly, before attempting to dive back inside.
“Wait, Taka”, says Lord Sakai, making him freeze in the doorway. He turns.
He has turned towards him, half twisting on himself to talk to him -but he’s also, somewhat curiously, not quite looking him in the eye. “Please”, he starts. “Do call me Jin. Your sister has no such qualms, after all -and with all you’ve done for me, I think you are way past earning the same right.”.
Taka’s face must be burning brighter than every lighthouse in Tsushima, but he forces himself to ignore it. He blinks as the implications sink in, and for a second he’s stricken speechless. “My sister is a heathen”, he blurts out when he recovers, although he does smile fondly at the thought -he doubts Yuna ever reserved Lord Sakai the respect he should be shown. “But I will… endeavor to do it, if it pleases you.”.
“It does”, Lord Sakai replies. His response seems to have definitely pleased him, either way -he’s smiling softly at him, something he hasn’t been yet subjected to until that moment. He’s seen his lips curl slightly; the soft way he talks and croons at his horse; the way he exchanges quips and lets Yuna talk all over him just like she does with Taka himself. He’s seen him enjoying himself, talking with people, reassuring them. But he was yet to see a smile. “Thank you, Taka.”.
It is a very pretty smile. Potent enough Taka feels compelled to smile back -moved, almost, by forces unknown.
“Sleep well, then, Jin”, he says, before closing the shoji behind him.
He puts away the cups, and joins his sister back to the straw mattresses, hearing her grumble in her sleep about the cold breeze he let in. He gives her his blanket, tucking it close to her sleeping form until she settles down again.
He doesn’t really mind. He feels too giddy, for some unknown reason, to be bothered by the cold. He even has some trouble falling back asleep -although he’s not awake to hear Lord Sakai -or, well, Jin, coming back inside.
But when sunbreak comes, he finds him outside, already dressed, feeding pears to the horses with a small, private smile on his face, apparently without a care in the world -as if the invaders, the war, the traitors aren’t even a hint of a shadow in his mind.
“Good morning, Jin”, he says, catching his attention. The man turns, smile falling for a fraction before his gaze finds him under the awning, and coming back in full force at that sight, like the sun coming back out from behind the clouds.
“Good morning, Taka”, he replies, before Yuna’s horse headbutts him hard enough to make him stumble, questing for more fruit. It is a charming sight. Pretty, even.
Taka’s heart is positively daring in the acrobatics it is performing behind his ribs, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He knows, even at this early, budding stage, that what he wishes for is nothing but a pretty dream: but he figures that, for now, he can allow himself to indulge in it, just for a bit. It feels so good, after all, that it just can’t be a bad thing.