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The sun finished its ascent over the edge of the horizon. Kaze sipped more tea from his station on their balcony. He glanced into the room behind him—confirming again, as he habitually did, the location and safety of Corrin and Silas.
The inn they were staying at had provided excellent accommodations, or, rather, Corrin thought they were excellent and that was really all that mattered. Kaze took in the rustic interior: pale wood walls, a tightly knit rug, soft armchairs, a tea table, the bed… He supposed it was cozy. Very comfortable. If he was being honest, it was more than he needed, but that was alright. Corrin thought it was charming and romantic, and Silas agreed.
Kaze allowed himself a small smile—tender and fond—as he watched them. The bed was large and easily held all three of them. Now, it was just Corrin and Silas sleeping soundly under a haphazard combination of quilt and fur. Corrin was tucked tightly to his side, and Silas, as usual, was sprawled out, mouth hanging open just so.
On the balcony, Kaze could alternate between taking in the view of their surroundings and the view of his loves.
After the war, Corrin—at Silas’s behest—had created a real list of travel destinations. Gone were the wishes to see markets and ant hills and flower fields and ponds (with turtles or ducks or both)… Well, not gone. Enhanced. Corrin still wanted to see all those things (and they’d had to drag Corrin away from a fair bit of innocuous nature sightings), but his journey throughout the war had certainly, er, broadened his horizons.
So, Silas had insisted on a revamped list that he could bring to fruition, and, now, here they were. The countryside of Izumo.
Kaze’s eyes immediately darted back to the bed as the sounds of stirring began.
Corrin squirmed further into Silas’s torso, pressing his face tightly to his side before lifting his head enough to squint and blink at his surroundings, “Kaze?”
Silas groaned, and the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Corrin lifted, gestured vaguely (waving?), then fell back down.
Kaze exhaled a soft laugh, “Morning.”
Corrin hummed and sat up a little, rubbing sleep out of one eye and yawning wide enough for Kaze to hear his jaw pop from across the room. Silas made a couple more grumbling noises and rolled to his side; he also started blinking around.
It wasn’t that they weren’t morning people. They were. It was just hard to compete with Kaze when he was determined to beat the sun to it every day.
Silas made one final unintelligible noise before finally speaking words, “What’s all this then?”
He was staring (one eyelid drooping a little more than the other) at the end table attached to the bed. Corrin blinked and followed his gaze, immediately lighting up at the breakfast spread.
“Oh!”
Kaze stepped away from the archway to the balcony and joined them back in the room, “Some breakfast for all of us, I think.”
The inn’s kitchen was staffed with a small group of wonderful cooks. Kaze had passed the start to his day with them, chatting amicably about the inn’s location, while they’d prepared his order for three. All their favorites. Silas sniffed the air as Corrin crawled forward to the end of the bed.
“Kaze, you didn’t have to-”
“Shh!” Corrin waved a hand. “We know, we know. He didn’t have to, but-” Corrin flashed a smile at Kaze—his usual kind that lit up the room, “doesn’t he always?”
“Exactly,” Kaze smiled indulgently, sitting on a small stool near the table.
Silas shook his head, “We’re not at the castle. Who did you bribe to wake the kitchen up so early? And to make so much?” He gestured at the large spread.
Kaze sipped his tea and reached for some rice porridge topped with mushrooms, chives, and ginger, “Some of us wake up and set ourselves to work early.”
Corrin started laughing at the indignant look on Silas’s face, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the mattress and hunching over to eat an egg yolk bun like some kind of gremlin, “There you have it, Silas. We’re the slugabugs.”
Silas sighed like he’d argue but ultimately settled beside Corrin to pick over the sausages, “Thank you, Kaze.”
This, all of this, had become typical for them. Their mornings together. The peace of it. The routine of it. Habits that they already had and new ones that formed around each other. Sometimes, Kaze saw it like a garden they were growing together—their lives intertwining and mingling, building off each other’s strengths, nurturing what was there, and sprouting more.
After all, Kaze had learned to wake up before the sun, before the world, long ago as a child, but those mornings had been cold and lonely. A stark contrast to the warmth of waking up beside Corrin and Silas. Of disentangling himself from their limbs which always fell softly to the side for him (and always welcomed him back just as softly later).
“Kaze?”
He looked up from his porridge. Corrin was blinking at him, still chewing on an ostensibly large bite of custardy yolk filling (flecks of yellow spotted the area around his mouth).
“You okay?”
Kaze actually laughed this time. Corrin just looked confused. Silas took one look at Corrin’s face and also burst out laughing—louder and heartier than Kaze’s, a song that filled the room. Kaze grabbed a tea towel off the table and dabbed at some of the yolk smudged along Corrin’s face, “I’m quite alright, my love. Just happy we came on this trip.”
So far so good, Silas mused. The trip had been his idea, after all. He was feeling a fair bit of pressure for it to go well. To make sure that Corrin and Kaze had a good time.
Corrin was easy, though that didn’t make Silas take his joy any less seriously. Corrin gave and experienced happiness so freely—so generously ; Silas had no choice but to treasure it. It was easy to want to protect Corrin’s happiness.
Kaze was another matter. His was a quieter happiness—more content, less exuberant. It was hard to know… Silas (and Corrin, he knew) tried to pay special attention to it. To look for the small, subtle cues that Kaze was pleased.
More than anything, Silas wanted Kaze to relax on this trip, but that was much easier said than done. Even this morning, Kaze, despite their unfamiliar surroundings, had gone out of his way—woken up before them and procured a small feast of a breakfast (including their favorites or as close to their favorites as Izumo could provide).
Silas shook his head. Something had to give.
He cupped a hand to his mouth, “Oi, Kaze!”
Up ahead, Kaze paused his hiking and turned back—one eyebrow arched.
Silas put a hand on his hip, “You’re moving too fast.”
Something shifted in Kaze’s expression, and, somehow someway, Silas realized what was going on a second before the other spoke.
“I am not walking faster aimlessly-”
Wait for it.
“-I’m scouting ahead for us.”
There it is.
Silas could have slapped himself. Instead, he groaned, “Just enjoy the view with us, will you?”
This, too, was typical. Kaze took their safety so seriously. Especially Corrin’s. Fair enough. Corrin was royalty, after all. Silas would be lying if he denied paying mind to it whenever they were out and about. Still, Izumo was easily one of the safest nations on the continent, and all three of them were still armed and more than capable of taking care of themselves.
Kaze glanced at Silas then at the trail winding up the mountainside ahead of them, then back to Silas, then behind Silas…
“I will-”
And, wait for it.
“-just allow me to scout around this bend up ahead.”
Silas sighed at the predictability of it all. Speaking of which… He turned around, following the same line of sight Kaze had been eyeing moments ago. Yup. Sure enough. There was Corrin. Just as Kaze was far ahead of Silas, Corrin was trailing behind—stopping and stooping to examine… Silas glanced back at Kaze but found the ninja already vanished. Great.
Nothing for it then. He smiled and wandered back to Corrin, still crouched by the side of the path.
“What are you looking at?”
“Shh!” Corrin held up a hand for good measure. He didn’t take his eyes off his target. Silas knelt beside him and followed suit—peering at… a log.
A partially rotted overturned log.
Silas blinked. “Corrin, wh-”
“Look.”
Silas looked.
At first, nothing happened, and he was just about to speak up again when-
The end of the log shook a little. Corrin tensed and widened his eyes. Silas held very, very still. A small kangaroo mouse hopped out from underneath part of it. Froze once it was out in the open air, so that only its nose twitched.
Silas’s lips quirked up into a smile, and Corrin’s little gasp was so stifled he almost couldn’t hear it. Belatedly, the mouse noticed them, tilted his head in their direction, assessed them… And apparently deemed them a threat as it took off deeper into the woods, bouncing along on disproportionately large hind legs and popping in and out of fallen leaves—visible one second then gone the next only to repeat all over again. Corrin watched all of this retreat with the same serious, fixed, studious stare.
Finally: “What was that?”
“Kangaroo mouse,” said Silas easily, standing and offering a hand.
“Kangaroo mouse,” Corrin repeated like he was studying. “It was so cute. I saw it dart in there and then I- Wait, where’s Kaze?”
Silas sighed—equal parts weary and endeared. “He’s scouting ahead.”
“Scou- What ?” Corrin squinted ahead as if focusing his gaze could summon the ninja back to them, which- Well, maybe. Kaze had a habit of circling back as if beckoned. “What’s he doing that for? We’re on vacation! And Izumo is basically a sanctuary again.”
“Tell me about it,” said Silas, reacting automatically when Corrin reached out for his hand and the two set off once more—at a distinctly leisurely pace ( Take notes, Kaze ).
All around them, the landscape of Izumo stretched out in a beautiful expanse dotted with trees—ancient cedar trees looming over saplings and underbrush. Below them, in the valleys around the mountain, plum trees blossomed between rivers and verdant fields.
…And there was Corrin.
Corrin wore a small peaceful smile on his face, observing it all just as avidly as he’d watch a kangaroo mouse or a soft-shell turtle or a beehive.
Silas loved him for that. He also…
Corrin looked up, “What’s wrong?”
“Kaze.”
Corrin blinked, “Kaze?”
Silas gestured ahead at the empty path in front of them, “I wanted all of us to be able to relax on this trip. But he’s still… waking up before us to take care of us. Walking ahead right now. Even at the market earlier, I think he had the whole place scoped out or something.”
Corrin snickered, “You’re right. He definitely did.”
He loved Kaze for that too; they both did.
Silas shrugged, “I have no idea how to get him to unwind at this point.”
To his surprise, Corrin laughed—a clear, pretty sound that echoed through the trees around them, “Don’t you worry about that, Silas. I have a plan.”
Silas’s eyebrows rose up his forehead, “A plan?”
“Mmhm, that’s right.” Corrin patted his arm—a little teasing, a little patronizing. “You’ll just have to see.”
What Silas didn’t know (or refused to acknowledge), Corrin mused, was that he was approximately as bad at relaxing as Kaze. Just as Kaze stressed about their safety, Silas stressed about their enjoyment. It was comical, really, watching the two of them worry themselves in circles. That said, they were on vacation and something had to be done about it.
Corrin was putting his foot down.
Hence, The Plan™.
It wasn’t much, all things considered. After all, this had been Silas’s trip to plan, so Corrin was working with limited time and resources… Still, it was all up to him now.
And it would start with the end of their dinner.
“Kaze’s heading back up to the room early,” said Corrin.
Silas paused in the middle of sitting back down and sighed in a weary, threadbare kind of way. He shook his head once he was seated, “Of course he is.”
Corrin snickered, “Is it really so bad? It’s sweet of him.”
“I know it is,” said Silas, but he was frowning at his fork and knife. “But I really wanted this to be a chance for the three of us to leave the war behind us— fully behind us… Not… Stay on edge…”
Corrin hummed and rubbed a hand along his back, “You’re on edge too, though.”
Silas frowned, “Just trying to look out for him…”
They always were, the two of them. Corrin smiled. He knew it applied to him too, of course, but he wondered if either of them realized how much of their time and energy was spent fretting after the other. A circle of frets.
“He could have waited for us too,” said Silas.
Corrin nodded along, barely tracking it at this point though. He shoved the last of his meal in his mouth instead. Silas wouldn’t think anything of that. Sure enough, Silas turned fond and fell into typical banter about Corrin’s eating habits.
Little did Silas know, Corrin had asked Kaze, as innocuously and innocently as he could, to check out this town’s most famous bakery for them to bring dessert back to their room. It wasn’t the kind of thing Kaze would have done any research on before they’d come to Izumo, so he wouldn’t know that this bakery was notorious for having a line out the door. Corrin was banking on his dedication to see his request through no matter what the wait time looked like.
He felt a little bad, sending Kaze off on an errand like that, but it was the only way he could think of to stop Kaze from actually doing what Corrin had told Silas in the first place—leaving dinner early to scope out the journey from the restaurant back to the inn.
…Besides, the deserts were supposedly legendary.
The priority was getting Kaze to arrive at about the same time as them. Ideally, they might even run into him on the way back if all went according to plan… Corrin just hoped the staff at the inn held up their end of the bargain.
“All done?” asked Silas, once Corrin had swallowed one last impossibly large bite.
He nodded—still chewing—and moved to stand. Silas took care of tipping, and they were on their way, hand in hand. Corrin would have preferred two though.
Silas, of course, had his own thoughts on the matter.
Corrin blinked and looked up, “What was that?”
“Just-” Silas gestured at the open-air market lining the walkway they were on, “Everything is so safe here.”
“Yeah,” Corrin beamed. “And it’s so nice too. So lovely. You did such a good job planning this trip.”
“Wish Kaze felt that way.”
Corrin’s smile actually dropped off at that, “He does.”
“I don’t know,” Silas scrubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I just can’t shake this feeling that I’ve let you both down somehow. We’re here. We’re supposed to be having fun. We-”
“Silas,” Corrin reached around with his other hand, squeezing Silas’s bicep and leaning into him. “Don’t talk like that. You did a great job. Everything is fine.”
Some of the tension did bleed out of him at that, but it wasn’t gone altogether. Well, the plan was the plan. They kept walking through quiet streets, lined with lamps and stalls and storefronts. Izumo was the picture of tranquility.
“Isn’t that-?”
Corrin looked up at Silas’s question, ahead towards the inn, and, yes, there he was—ever the faithful. Kaze was just arriving ahead of them, one promising paper box in hand. Corrin grinned and cupped a hand over his mouth, “Kaze!”
Kaze paused, waiting for them expectantly. Silas’s brows were furrowed as they made their way over, “What is that? And what’re you doing here? I thought we were going to find you camped out in the room waiting.”
Kaze’s turn to look confused, “No? I was picking up pastries.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before, slowly, turning their attention down towards Corrin in perfect unison. Corrin’s grin pulled a little tighter. “Heh.”
Kaze raised an eyebrow in silent question, while Silas actually voiced it, “Corrin?”
“Let’s-” Corrin chirped, grabbing the box in Kaze’s hand, “-head upstairs.”
He tried to hum casually as he walked through the inn’s front door and open lobby area, but neither partner was content to leave things alone. Figures.
“Corrin? Why’d you tell me Kaze was scoping out our walk home for us?”
Kaze sounded surprised, “He did? Well, I would have, certainly, but-”
“Man, I’m beat, aren’t you guys?”
A short pause followed Corrin’s question, and then it all started up again.
“Corrin. Explain.”
“You could have told me if the pastries were a surprise for Silas. I would have concealed myself on the way back to the inn, and-”
“Why would the pastries be a surprise for me ?”
On the landing to their floor, Corrin stopped and spun around, “Okay, that’s enough questions. Geez.” He huffed a little, but there wasn’t any anger to it. “This is what I get for trying to surprise you, I guess…”
They both blinked at him.
“Surprise us?”
“Mmhm,” Corrin turned again and kept walking up to the room. “That’s why I wanted to make sure we all got back here at the same time. Well, that, and-” he gave the box a gentle shake, “-these are supposed to be really good.”
A slow smile was stretching over Silas’s face, “What kind of surprise are we talking about here?”
Corrin’s turned coy, and he placed one hand firmly on the door to their room, “This kind.”
Corrin saw their faces before the actual room itself, and he smelled it first too. As soon as the door swung open, a warm blanket of perfume wafted out, not overwhelming but promisingly fragrant. Floral and sweet and citrus all enticingly inviting them further in. Kaze looked more startled than Silas, but the surprise on both their faces melted quickly into endearment. Fondness.
Good. Satisfied, Corrin turned as well to see for himself.
…Perfect.
It looked like all his directions had been followed to a T.
The room was well adorned with flowers and flower petals. A traditional Hoshidan tea service was set up on their extra table, and some of the herbal infusions sitting ready and waiting had to be adding to the delicious scents permeating the air. The door to the bathroom was open, and the tub was already filled with steaming water while more flowers floated delicately along the surface. Even the bed had been strewn with blossoms. Corrin flushed a little at the romantic implications and peeked back over his shoulder—seeking more approval from the two people whose opinions and ideas mattered most to him.
“What do you think?”
Silas stepped forward and into the room, making his way over to the ice bucket on the mantel holding two bottles of-
“Corrin,” he choked out. “These are- these are really nice- holy- this stuff isn’t-”
“The finest osmanthus wine the staff could find for us.”
Kaze and Silas both looked up at that.
“Why,” Kaze began, “did you go through all this trouble? This was supposed to be a trip to see your travel destinations.”
“Wrong,” said Corrin, easily. “It’s not a trip for me. This was supposed to be a trip for us. And the two of you have been worrying about each other (and me but that’s not important) this whole time. You’ve both got to relax.”
Silas frowned, “Kaze’s been-”
“And you’ve been worrying about how much fun we’re having the whole time too.” Corrin stepped up to Silas, took the bottle in his hand, and started working to pop the cork off. “It’s time. No more worrying. About anything. We earned this. You both did. I don’t know…” He paused for a moment, hands frozen on the bottle as he tried to summon the words. “I don’t know how I would have made it through everything without either of you. Without your loyalty. Your support… Please. Let’s just… be present together.”
Quiet followed. Kaze and Silas stared at Corrin. Then at each other. Corrin struggled with the cork. Finally, Kaze smiled, closed the door to their room, took the bottle, and popped the cork out in one fluid motion.
“Yes, you’re right. We earned this.”
Silas grinned, nervously at first then with more confidence, “Some peace, at last.”
Finally. Corrin reached out and dragged them both closer, pressing one kiss to Kaze’s cheek and right along Silas’s jawline. Kaze put the bottle to the side, and hands started roaming—pulling each other closer, tighter, warmer. Corrin smiled into each and every kiss.
There was, admittedly, still so much of the world to see, but, with the war behind them, they had time to do it. Time and peace—together.