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“Tell me about Liyue,” Gorou said that night over drinks. “I want to hear all about it.”
Kazuha poured himself another cup of sake. He couldn’t recall how many bottles they’d gone through. The other soldiers and members of the Crux fleet had tapped out already, even Beidou. Kazuha had been surprised when she’d announced she was done for the evening. She was the heaviest of heavyweights. She’d given him an odd look and a thumbs-up as she was leaving, too. Now it was just Kazuha and Gorou alone in the tent.
“Where should I start?” Kazuha asked. “Liyue is full of marvelous sights. Maybe I should go in chronological order…”
Gorou folded his arms on the table and lowered his head, still gazing up at Kazuha. His tail whispered softly against the mat beneath them as it wagged.
He was still the same, Kazuha reflected. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he’d returned to Inazuma. War changed people, and the resistance had been struggling against the shogunate. That kind of desperation could lead people to abandon their principles, chase victory no matter the cost. Yet Gorou appeared as stalwart as ever.
When the battle had ended earlier that day, Gorou had run to Kazuha’s side, sweeping him off his feet in an embrace. He’d even pulled back, cupping Kazuha’s face in his hands, and said, “You’re really here,” in the wondrous tone of voice Kazuha wasn’t sure he’d earned. It was in that moment he realized he’d been expecting Gorou to treat him coldly.
You abandoned the cause. You didn’t write. You betrayed our friendship by leaving so easily, without even a proper goodbye.
But Kazuha had clearly been mistaken.
“Did you go to Liyue Harbor?” Gorou asked.
“We did, briefly. The Crux technically isn’t allowed to dock there, but Beidou is familiar with the tianquan—a member of their government.”
Gorou hummed. “What was it like? How were the people?”
“The city was noisy and vibrant,” Kazuha said, fondly reminiscing. “The buildings were tall, with red staircases and walkways all around. You could drink tea while looking down at the streets. And the people were friendly, though I got some strange looks. I guess I stood out.”
“You would,” Gorou said. “I bet they don’t see many people from Inazuma.”
“They definitely don’t.”
“How about the food?”
“Oh, the food is in a class of its own. They can satisfy any kind of palate there. Shrimp wrapped in delicate parcels, cold chicken covered in chili oil… they take cooking very seriously.”
Gorou laughed. “That’s good for you, then. I know you hate it when meals are just thrown together.”
Kazuha emptied his sake cup. “One day, I hope you’ll be able to go there yourself.”
“Heh, I don’t know if that’ll happen.” Gorou shifted his gaze to the far wall of the tent. “Even if we win the war, there’s no telling how long it will take to untangle everything the shogun put in place. The Tenryou commission is heavily in favor of Sakoku, so…”
“You could always leave the same way I did,” Kazuha said. “The Crux would be willing.”
Gorou’s wagging slowed. “I can’t exactly come and go as I please.”
“Ah…” Kazuha realized his mistake. Of course, Gorou couldn’t travel on a whim. He was the Divine Priestess’s general and retainer. He could not leave her side. Kazuha could not begrudge him that. His words had been selfish and careless.
“Will you leave again?” Gorou asked. “When all of this is over?”
Kazuha didn’t reply. He wanted to see more of the world, but the thought of hurting Gorou, leaving him behind again, formed knots in his stomach.
Gorou sat up. “Uh, sorry. I’m putting you on the spot. You don’t have to answer that.” He placed his hand on Kazuha’s wrist. “I’m just happy you’re here now.”
“How?” Kazuha said softly.
Gorou blinked in confusion.
“How can you be happy to see me after I gave up the fight? After I…?” Kazuha bit his lip. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions. He was getting emotional. “I gave you no indication that I planned to return. I never bothered to send a message to you. And yet you welcomed me back with no hard feelings whatsoever.”
Gorou was silent. His gaze was as steady as stone.
“Even now, I’m planning to leave Inazuma,” Kazuha said. “If I told you that I would depart tomorrow, would you accept it?”
“I would,” Gorou said.
Kazuha stared at him, stunned.
“It would hurt,” Gorou continued, color rising in his cheeks—not from the wine, it seemed. “But it would be too much to ask you to stay. I couldn’t do that.”
Kazuha looked down at their hands resting on the table. Gorou had grabbed his right—the bandaged one—and was squeezing it gently. He didn’t appear to be aware he was doing so.
“Kazuha?”
Kazuha met Gorou’s eyes again. He was suddenly aware of the space between their bodies, the intimate privacy of the tent. He wanted more than just this simple touch. He wanted…
“I thought of you often,” Kazuha said at last. “I wondered how you were faring, what you would think of certain sights and sounds and smells, what you would do or say in a given scenario. In a way, it felt like I had brought you with me. But it really couldn’t compare.”
“I missed you, too,” Gorou said.
Kazuha breathed a laugh. He admired Gorou’s frankness. He admired his loyalty and his kindness. But “admiration” was beginning to feel like the wrong word. Kazuha rose onto his knees and put his arms around Gorou’s shoulders.
“K-Kazuha,” Gorou said. His tail thumped against the ground.
“I missed you,” Kazuha said. “I missed your voice. I missed your scent.”
Gorou inhaled. Kazuha could feel his heart beating in rhythm with his wagging tail. He leaned forward, placing more of his weight onto Gorou, who finally returned the hug. His hands splayed against Kazuha’s back.
“I want to show it to you,” Kazuha said in Gorou’s ear. “Liyue. The world. I’ll bring it you.”
Gorou laughed nervously. “You’re drunk.”
“I mean it.” Kazuha nestled closer, tipping Gorou further backward.
Gorou gave in and lay on his back, still holding Kazuha to him. He’d gone a bit rigid; Kazuha dimly considered letting go, but he felt so comfortable. Ah, yes. With Gorou, he was safe.
“Uh,” Gorou said, his voice pitching higher, “you’re not falling asleep, are you?”
Why not? Kazuha thought. He allowed his eyes to fall shut. As he was drifting off, Gorou shifted underneath him. Kazuha clung a little tighter. He wanted to stay like this for a while longer.
He must have completely fallen asleep then. When he regained consciousness, Kazuha was in a different tent and in a bedroll. He looked around. He was alone, not with the Crux or Gorou. There was another bedroll, but it was empty.
Last night… perhaps he shouldn’t have had that last drink. He could only imagine how confused Gorou must have been. Kazuha sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d apologize for making Gorou uncomfortable and burdening him with Kazuha's own troubled thoughts.
The tent flap opened. Gorou ducked inside, shaking rain off of his hair. Kazuha sat up too quickly. His head swam, then ached. He lay down again with a soft groan.
“Are you okay?” Gorou asked, coming to sit beside him.
“I think we overdid it,” Kazuha said, laughing. “Or at least I did.”
“Um, I brought some mint.” Gorou opened his fist. Several half-crushed leaves lay in his palm. “If you’re feeling sick, you can chew on them.”
“Thank you.” Kazuha plucked a leaf from Gorou’s hand and placed it on his tongue. He chewed slowly, letting the sharp flavor fill his mouth.
Gorou ate one as well. “About what you said last night…” he began.
“Ah, I was sincere,” Kazuha said. “Though I definitely had too much to drink.”
“So, you meant all that stuff about ‘bringing me the world’?”
“I did. I meant it earlier, too, that I felt our friendship was uneven. You’ve done so much for me, while I’ve given you little in return.”
Gorou shook his head. “That’s not true. You saved us yesterday. You gave us victory.”
“But that was for the resistance as a whole. I want to do something for you, personally.”
Gorou was quiet, his cheeks aflame. “Having you around is enough,” he mumbled. “I like it when you talk and tell me things about your travels. Besides, friends don’t expect things in return.”
“No, they don’t,” Kazuha agreed. He eased himself into a sitting position. “I’m sorry for clinging to you like that, by the way.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Gorou looked at the ground. “I kind of… liked it. Although it was tough getting you to let go and get in your own bedroll.”
Kazuha laughed wryly. “Why didn’t you just get in with me?”
At that, Gorou’s blush traveled to the roots of his hair and even the pink interior of his ears. “I-I couldn’t do that!”
“But I thought you liked me clinging to you.” Kazuha leaned forward.
“Not like that! I mean, you were drunk! That would be taking advantage—um, not that that would be on my mind in the first place.” Gorou frantically waved a hand. “Forget I said anything, okay?”
Kazuha sat back with a smile. “You’re as easy to tease as ever.”
Gorou groaned, putting his face in his hands. “Kazuha… please don’t. My heart can’t take it.” He lifted his head again. “But I guess I can’t complain.”
“Why?”
“You seem happy.”
“I am,” Kazuha said, surprised that he meant it. The cloak of grief around his heart had been there so long he’d grown accustomed to it. Yet there were moments when it felt as though it slipped off and some light could finally touch him. Sailing with the Crux, composing poetry by the water’s edge, hearing Gorou call his name across the chaos of a battlefield…
Gorou’s expression melted into a smile. “I’m glad.”
The tent flap twitched aside. “General Gorou? You’re needed at the training grounds.”
“Ah, be right there!” To Kazuha, Gorou said, “Come see me again later. I want to hear more about Liyue.” Then he pressed the remaining mint leaves into Kazuha’s hand, scrambled to his feet, and left.
Kazuha stared down at the leaves. He ate another. My friend… I wish I deserved your affection. I would have been the one taking advantage of you. He was still far from understanding the depth of his own feelings. All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t bear to lose another companion, for whatever reason.
They were going to survive this. They were going to win. And then Kazuha would lay the world out at Gorou’s feet and show him what freedom tasted like.