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It always seemed to Gorou that if the soldiers were up early, you were up even earlier.
Well, the soldiers are always up early. To best optimize their training, they need to take advantage of all the sunlight they can get. As dawn breaks, they hoist themselves out of bed (on some mornings this is done more reluctantly than on others, when sparring or discussions of strategy or storytelling around the fire had gone late the night before), preparing to start the day. Everyone is a little slow to emerge from their quarters, still half-asleep and hung up on a dream, but the growling of their stomachs does well enough to pull them fully into the waking world and towards the wonderful smell of the dishes you have cooked for breakfast.
You’re in the mess hall and greet them quietly, not wanting to startle them even if you’d be hard-pressed to catch them unawares—they’re soldiers after all, ready for anything. But, you reason, there are kinder ways to begin the day than being at the receiving end of a loud voice, and you hope your food is the kindest of them.
They certainly appear to agree, judging by their thanks as they finish up their meals and head out, now fully alert… and partly wishing they could return to bed with a now full belly, comfortably satiated. You respond with a bright grin and a Yes, of course! It’s what you’re here for. You wanted to help contribute to the resistance however you could, and since you didn’t believe you would make a good fighter, you had instead found your place off the battlefield.
And because this is what you’re here for, you also want to be awake before the soldiers are so breakfast would be ready in time. It’s what you say to Gorou every time he expresses concern that you aren’t resting enough, to maintain that kind of schedule. He mentions it again this morning as he hands you his empty plate so you can set it with the rest to be washed.
“You should at least take a break on some days,” he remarks. The ceramic plates clank quietly in the bucket you’ve picked up, about to take it outside. “The men can survive the occasional meal without your culinary prowess.“
Upon his comment, you then set the bucket down on the table, not intent to carry on a conversation while holding it, because it would feel heavy fast. Gorou’s suggestion is really a command, evidence of his position as general, accustomed to leading and to watch out for everyone, but his tone is gentle. He would never use anything so harsh with you, not that he had to; to speak with you like this is very different from shouting commands in the midst of a fight.
You smile softly at the praise which has left his mouth so easily. “I do this because I want to, Gorou. Besides, I have taken breaks and let other people handle it before.”
“All those times you didn’t have a choice—you were sick!” Gorou, sharp as ever, replies.
He does have a point, and you chuckle in your acquiescence. “It’s fine, really. I like to keep busy, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” You set your hands on your hips and nod once resolutely.
Your stance is cute, Gorou thinks, and his cheeks warm at the sight. He’d been wanting to continue convincing you to take actual breaks that weren’t just mandated bedrest (these multiple fruitless talks on the topic proves he isn’t quite the negotiator Kokomi is) but now he’s rushing to end it despite being the instigator. He can’t let you notice how flustered he’s becoming!
"Well, if you feel tired, please don’t force yourself.” He says it all the time, but he wants to drive the point home.
You’re never bothered by the repeated reminders, and instead appreciate how much he wants to look after others, not just you but after everyone on Watatsumi. “I won’t,” you promise.
Then you shoo him off with a wave of your hand. Go on, you have men to train and I have dishes to wash!
The warmth in his cheeks is rivaled by the warmth in the pit of his stomach at the playful smile you grace him with as you tell him to get a move on. The food he’d eaten was good, certainly, but he knows it’s not the cause.
He isn’t the only one to be thankful you’ve found your place here in Watatsumi, contributing in the way you do, but he’s sure he’s a little more thankful than the rest, for reasons unspoken and that would perhaps remain as such. He’s unable to put into words the way he feels to be around you, not much of a wordsmith in matters like these. He only knows it by the way his ears perk up when he hears your voice; by the tightening in his chest when you look at him; by the itch in his fingers to reach out and curl the ends of your hair around them whenever you stand close to each other.
And in those instances when you stand close to each other, so close he could bend down and kiss you if he wanted to (and he does, but the real question is did you?), the light in your eyes is clearer than ever, the sparkle in them the glimmer of another world and how can one person care so much? When you’d arrived in Watatsumi, you considered (albeit very briefly) joining in the fighting, but he’s forever grateful you’re helping from the sidelines, where you’re safe. A heart so big would be wasted out there.
On the days you were absent from your duties because you were sick, he had, truthfully, been disappointed. Because while the soldiers are half-asleep leaving the bunkers and still hung up on a dream, he’s half-awake and hung up on you. Don’t get him wrong, he knows your health matters most, imploring you constantly to get adequate rest, but the tinge of dismay is difficult—nay, impossible—to ignore whenever he walks in and sees someone else preparing food.
Sometimes he’d spot you around the island, wanting to get fresh air to aid in your recovery, and a brief glance would be satisfactory to get through his day. But during one instance when your friend Satsuki had mentioned dropping off some tea leaves at your home, a rather expensive blend she saved for whenever she was feeling under the weather, Gorou had pounced on the opportunity and offered to drop if off himself.
Maybe it was a little odd because Satsuki’s own work took her closer to your house than Gorou’s did (it was actually completely out of his way), but if this thought occurred to her, she (thankfully) didn’t address it. She simply handed him the small burlap sack tied closed with twine.
The fact your house is out of Gorou’s way isn’t lost on you, as it’s the first thing you commented on when he knocked at your front door that evening. That’s a long walk!
But he’d only shrugged and smiled. The path to your house never feels long. And really, even if it did, it would always be worth it.
Yet he wants to do more to show you his appreciation. You’ve mentioned that the thanks you get from him and the others in the village is plenty enough appreciation for you, but at least once he would like to go beyond that. He knows you’re too humble to accept anything more, but you deserve it for working hard. He ruminates on this throughout the day, at some points during breaks staring ahead at a wall or a tree so intently that others take notice and, unlike Satsuki, draw attention to his unusual behavior.
“Is there something particularly interesting about that wall, general?”
“Huh?” Gorou blinks, snapped out of his train of thought, and turns to the one who’d said that.
One of the newest additions to the resistance, Takao, grins playfully, betraying that it had been him who had voiced the question. He says nothing more, opting instead to take another bite of his lavender melon. Next to him, the more seasoned Hyuga chuckles.
“You’ve been pretty distracted today.”
“Oh, u-uh… have I?” It’s Gorou’s turn to chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He’s normally composed in front of his soldiers, as is befitting his position, but normally thoughts of you don’t follow him onto the training grounds.
For all his talents at strategizing, he’d failed to strategize how to navigate around this, having not anticipated, perhaps foolishly, that he’d be caught thinking about you by his men. In his defense, it had been subtle up until this point: a brief thought about where you might be and if you’ve been able to receive the newest shipment of supplies okay—serious matters relating to operations. They were things that hardly merit acting embarrassed, things no one would find strange if they were to ask what is on his mind. He could share the thought freely.
Today’s daydreams, however, he is not as intent to share. It had shifted from merely wondering what he should do to show his appreciation to wondering how you’d react after the fact. He could see it clearly, your bright eyes and wide smile like the crescent moon, directed at him, for him, and he is so happy to be the cause. He’ll memorize the way they look and how it feels to receive them, and he will watch you, standing there in front of him, wishing he could have the rest of you too.
“It’s nothing.” Gorou tries to be dismissive but it’s a lame attempt, even he’ll admit that. To shut it down entirely before they can grow more suspicious, he changes the subject. “We should get ready for the next round of sparring. I took some notes on what I observed earlier that I wanted to go over with everyone…” Great. It seemed in his distraction he had misplaced them; they’re not on the table or on any of the empty chairs.
Hyuga nods and goes to round up the others. Gorou thinks he’s in the clear and huffs quietly while he continues to search for his missing notes, but Takao, spry as ever, which Gorou had quickly come to learn, can’t help but make one final comment.
“If you’re needing some victorious luck for whatever’s on your mind, do you think rubbing your own ears would count?”
Gorou looks over at Takao, cheeks hot, and he’s feeling embarrassed but for another reason—he isn’t keen to be reminded about that rumor that went around. It has mostly fizzled out, but some (read: Takao) still like to tease. But then he considers what his subordinate has just said. Why would Takao assume he needed luck? Even if he did choose to share what had him distracted, it’s not as if he needed any assurances of victory in trying to decide what to do for you.
Perhaps it runs deeper, touching on a point Gorou hadn’t really put into words until now. Now, he realizes, it isn’t merely about doing something nice for you to return the favor. He’s always been one to show, not tell, and a part of him had begun to hope that by being the one to extend an extra measure of gratitude, you might understand just how much he cares about you.
Is this the issue which Takao implied he would need that victorious luck for? Gorou, even for basically being found out despite sharing nothing out loud, is impressed. He’s more perceptive than he seemed.
“Here.” Takao holds his hand out and Gorou glances down: the missing notes. “You left them on the bench back there.”
Gorou takes them with a quiet Oh… Thanks. Takao smiles and wordlessly joins the rest of the soldiers.
It’s during dinner when Gorou finally comes up with an idea, and he’s annoyed he hadn’t come up with it sooner. It seems so obvious now! He initiates the conversation just as he had this morning when he walks up to hand you his plate. As he’s the last in line, he’s able to linger. You ask if he enjoyed the food and he nods, telling you he always does. The corner of your mouth lifts in a little grin, subtle but full of pride. I’m glad.
You always cook for us, he then remarks, but please, at least once, allow me to cook for you. Your head tilts as you admit you didn’t know he liked to cook too. He says it’s only sometimes—he can’t do anything complex due to lack of time, and besides, he prefers to eat the food you prepare anyway, which is leagues above his own.
“But there’s a dish I think I’m pretty good at, and… I’d like you to try it. Well, that is, if you want to…” Gorou trails off, suddenly unsure of himself. Asking you hadn’t seemed like it would be a big deal when it first occurred to him to offer this, but now he’s worried he might make a fool of himself. Of course his cooking would never be as amazing as yours, and what if that’s all you’re thinking about? Are you contemplating a polite way to turn him down? What if you say yes but while he’s cooking his hands get shaky and he messes up? You’re a sweet person and he knows you’ll just try to assure that it’s the thought that counts but that’s not enough for him! He wants to do his best for you because you do your best for the resistance.
It seems his worry at potentially being rejected is unwarranted, as you interrupt his internal speculations and accept. I’d really like that. The rainclouds which had slowly been creeping over him the more he thought about what could go wrong recede until all he sees is beautiful sunshine, sees that grin still on your face. You’re the fresh air and the rainbow after a storm, and he can hardly recall how dark the clouds just were. Did they even matter?
He invites you to his home the following evening. You typically don’t eat dinner until after everyone else has been served, and it works out well for tonight. While you’re cleaning up in the mess hall, Gorou prepares the food. Though he doesn’t make this dish often, he still has it down to a science—the ingredients are fresh, the measurements are accurate, and his timing is perfect. After he’s arranged everything in a bowl and set it aside on the counter, he’s only left waiting for another ten minutes.
Your knocks on the door are light, but he hears it clearly enough in the silence. At this time, the commotion outdoors has died down. The moment the thought crosses his mind—It’s you, you’re here—his heart starts to race, and the deep breaths he takes on the brief walk to answer the door do nothing to calm it down. Why was he feeling like this? Mentally he’d been perfectly fine, because you’re nice and easygoing and he’s never had reason to be anxious around you. Your earlier acceptance of trying his cooking had helped ease that anxiety then—he had nothing to fret over. But his body evidently hadn’t gotten the memo as his nerves run away now, having taken his confidence hostage.
Now is not the time! The last deep breath he takes, now standing in front of the door, comes out a frustrated huff. Yes, you’re just on the other side, waiting to greet him with your pretty smile, and yes, you are here to try his cooking upon his invitation, but Gorou is hesitating to just move, open the door and welcome you in and play the part of a hospitable host, because of nerves. The surety he exudes as general is nowhere to be found now. He’s left in the open, exposed and helpless.
He’s addressed that before to his soldiers, what’s to be done when a battle looks like a lost cause. What was it he had said?
An invitation for dinner is far and away from a battle, but the advice is still the same, and it spurs Gorou into action: continue to power through, because the tides might yet turn.
Your face lights up when the door slides to the side and reveals him there. He meets it a smile of his own and his heart continues to race but while previously it had been the nerves, now it feels like that of relief, of being pulled from open water into safety, of watching the cavalry arrive to turn those tumultuous tides. To be in your presence right now is to be at ease, drifting to sleep atop the clouds, and he wants you to be next to him forever, if it meant he could always feel like this.
The panic he’d worked himself into during all this had been the result of thinking too much, and to be graced by your charming features was to be reminded that when it comes to feelings for the one you care about, overthinking hindered more than helped. He need only to sigh and let go, heart drifting like the falling cherry blossoms in spring, down, down, down into your waiting hands. Maybe that’s why it beats so hard, eager as it is to reach you.
“Hey, you made it!” he greets. “Hope it wasn’t too bad a walk, especially after a long day and all.” His house is on a higher hill than yours, which is closer to the entrance of the village.
He steps to the side to allow you in and you step across the threshold, glancing over your shoulder to reply. “The path to your house never feels long.”
At hearing his words from long ago repeated back to him, he chuckles. “I’m glad.”
You stop and turn to face him, hands clutched behind your back. “So what has Chef Gorou prepared tonight?” Your eyes sparkle and it can’t be blamed on the moonlight.
This time, it’s a full laugh that leaves Gorou’s mouth. “‘Chef’? You’re getting a little ahead of yourself there.”
“I can’t help it; I’m excited!” You clasp your hands together in front of you now, palms meeting in a firm clap.
While you take a seat at the dining table, he gets the food. It’s nothing too special, he says, wanting to temper your expectations because it’s true, he doesn’t find it to be anything remarkable. It’s something I make if I have the extra time. Hardly fancy. Your eyes brighten in wonder when he sets the bowl before you, and you tell him he’s underselling himself. It looks amazing! The bowl of ramen is piled high with toppings, sheets of dried seaweed and fresh cuts of chashu pork resting against the far side. It’s still slightly steaming, and the aroma makes your mouth water.
Gorou’s typically fine when receiving praise, taking it in stride, but it’s different when it’s you. He blushes, thankful that you’re preoccupied with studying the dish and aren’t looking at him. He only hopes you think it tastes amazing as well.
And you do think that. You hum contentedly around the first mouthful of noodles, the spices washing over your tongue. It had been a little chilly at night this time of year and the heat is pleasant, warming you from the inside out. You eat it rather quickly; you worked up an appetite due to eating lunch a little earlier than usual today.
Satisfaction settles within Gorou to see you enjoying what he has made, and he remarks to you that it might be a small gesture, as one meal is nothing to the countless number you have prepared for him and the others, in addition to all the others ways you help around Watatsumi, but he wanted to switch places for once. He could surmise by each dish how much love you have to share, ensuring everyone is cared for, and he wanted to return the favor, to show you how much he cares about you too.
We’re grateful to have you here, he declares. Brilliant blue eyes are suddenly shy to hold your gaze, interested in the notches in the wooden table. Then more quietly, he confesses But I think I’m the most grateful of all.
The words have left him, can no longer be taken back, and slowly he musters he courage to look at you then, hopeful of what you might say.
You’d paused in your eating halfway through his speech to focus fully on what he was saying. Silence hangs in the air but it isn’t awkward, and your gaze is soft. You tell him thank you—truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul. You’re also grateful to be here; a place where you feel you belong. And you’d like to stay, you timidly admit, for as long as he’d let you stay by his side.
How lucky am I to be cared for so much by someone so kind. Your heartfelt proclamation is the sound of wind chimes blown by a gentle breeze on humid summer days, and he would have you stay with him until the sands of time drain and you return to stardust to travel through space together, into eternity.
And he says, with a sighing heart at rest in your hands: “I ask myself the same thing.”
Once you finish eating, you pat your now full stomach. Thank you for the meal! You stand to bring the bowl over to the counter, but Gorou rushes to do it instead. After, he returns to you where you’re standing by the table, and he grins proudly when you exclaim once more how delicious it was.
“I really wanted to make a good impression,” he states. “Somehow the stakes making that dish felt higher than the stakes on the battlefield.”
You giggle. “Well, it’s safe to say you were successful.”
“I’m happy you enjoyed it.”
You smile, and Gorou doesn’t miss the twinkle of amusement in your eyes. “I know; your tail is giving it away.”
That’s when he realizes his tail is wagging, a gentle swish from side to side; pure instinct. Was it really—the whole time?! Embarrassed to be caught, he stops, tail drooping down. He averts his gaze with a blush across his cheeks, but when you laugh, he turns his attention back to you.
He smiles because you sound so wonderful, and upon this thought his tail starts wagging again. This time though, he doesn’t stop it.