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He should have known. From the moment Gen appeared in the village, he knew that this was a possibility, and yet he stayed. He should have known better, should have run. And yet he stayed. To save Ruri. To help the villagers. To help himself. For scientific advancement, and the welfare of the people he had started to tentatively think of as home.
All of his concentration was focused on keeping his breathing steady, his limbs from trembling, to remain relaxed, to keep his feet under him.
When Magma had first grabbed him, blinded him, and carried him off, he almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “What the hell are you doing?” came out half annoyed and half fond. After Magma had tried to save him from falling in a pit, did save him by chucking him out of the water, kept him and Chrome focused, how could he help but trust the big man?
But Magma said nothing. The hasty steps away from Chrome’s confused “Where are you taking Senkuu?” made the first inklings of doubt arise in his mind. The moment of shock over, Senkuu could feel the edges of the blindfold digging harshly into his skin. He would have tried to loosen it, if not take it off altogether, but the way Magma was carrying him made that an impossibility. Magma had picked him up by the waist, his arm pressing all of Senkuu to his side, keeping his arms pinned at the elbow.
“Hey Magma,” he said, trying not to betray his nerves, and instead focus on the incredulity of the situation. “I know I’m slow, but we’re not in that much of a hurry. You can put me down now.”
If anything, Magma’s pace increased, the jostling and the added pressure of Magma’s arm tightening around him driving the breath out of his lungs at regular intervals. Still, the villager said nothing. Senkuu cocked his head, trying to hear if Chrome was coming after them. Yes… under Magma’s heavy footfalls came a lighter, running pace coming towards them from behind. When Chrome caught up, Magma only hefted him up more securely and shifted up into a ground-eating lope that Senkuu had seen the warriors and guards using. Chrome kept up, though the huffing and puffing told him that it wasn’t an easy pace for him.
434 seconds
435 seconds
Since the moment the blindfold had cinched around his eyes, his brain had quietly started up another count. He didn’t fight it.
He had tried to get free from Magma, kicking and squirming for a few minutes, but he was already exhausted after the three days of traveling, near death experiences, cold water, and the excitement of the minerals, metals, and stones they had found. He was too tired to keep struggling, having proven it would do no good.
Magma and Chrome kept moving.
Senkuu let his eyes slip shut, let his body relax, ignored the cutting fabric of the blindfold, the vise of Magma’s arm around his body, the jolting of Magma’s footfalls.
638
639
640
The scent of sea spray hit his nose first. Then smoke from cooking fires, roasted meats and vegetables. They were nearing the village. A hundred or so steps more (2837 seconds, his brain chimed in), and odors from his smelter washed over him next.
The quiet breathing, creak of leather, and muffled giggles quickly hushed told him that the villagers were gathered there. He thought about calling for help, but the air was heavy with a humming, excited tension. Anticipation. No one called out questions. No one tried to stop them.
Senkuu would find no help here.
His breathing quickened, and he fought to steady it.
Magma and Chrome had slowed to a walk when they got to the outskirts of the village, and they kept up the same pace now, with only the quiet, crunching footfalls on snow and the sound of rubbing leather to let Senkuu know that people were getting out of their way.
Without warning, Magma hefted him to his shoulder, the joint driving into Senkuu’s gut and making his yelp of startlement come out more like a squeaking wheeze. He heard a few people stifle more giggles and it made him fight back the urge to both cry and snarl. Then they were climbing.
There’s only two buildings in the village that have stairs or ladders. One of them is the Priestess’ temple, and Senkuu thinks he would have felt them walking over a bridge.
The other is the science hut. Chrome’s - and his - home. Is it still his home?
There’s a pause, a few steps to the left, and then they ascended once more. A door creaked, and Senkuu was roughly dropped on the floor, only what must be Chrome’s hand steadying him and keeping him on his feet.
All of his concentration focused on keeping his breathing steady, his limbs from trembling, to remain relaxed, to keep his feet under him.
There were others in the room with him. Chrome’s and Magma’s distinctive footsteps veered to his right and… leaned against the wall? There was quiet breathing directly behind him by only a few paces. Another two people, further behind that person. Another pair of people, one young and one old, judging by the pace of their breathing. And a final person, not far from him either, in front of him, not directly, but slightly to the right side. Ahead of him cold air blew in, making him shiver. Being carried by Magma had been rough and unpleasant but at least he had been warm.
Senkuu fought to keep his posture and demeanor as normal as he could, while his muscles felt as tight as a bowstring. Ready to run. Ready to fight. His hand clenched at his side, feeling as subtly as he could for one of the bags hanging from his hip. Neither Magma nor Chrome had taken any of his items from him, besides the wealth of stones he had been struggling to carry. Whether Magma or Chrome had them, or if they had simply dumped them on the ground on their way back he didn’t know, but assumed that even if this situation was something that he wouldn’t survive - which was growing more and more likely - Chrome would still want the materials they had found. Even if they decided his science was too troublesome, too likely to bring down Tsukasa’s wrath, Chrome, as their sorcerer, could use them. But Senkuu still had his own, personal bags. After the first few days alone in the forest with no one for company, he had lost a number of makeshift tools, possessions and so, so much food to the curious monkeys and other wildlife. After that setback, he never went anywhere without emergency rations, small hand tools that would enable him to make more, vials of antibiotics, bandages, the clearest alcohol he could get his hands on, and of course, his doctor stone. Little bits of wire and bamboo, pretty pebbles Suika and some of the other children had given him.
A dagger, a gift from Kaseki when he had made everybody else katanas. He moved his hand slowly, conscious of the unseen eyes on him, moving his hand back and forth like a kid who has to kick their legs when in a too-tall chair. Until his hand is just at the lip of the pocket he has the knife in. He lets his hand sway back and forth a few more times until it stills, in a position that, gods willing, will let him get the knife.
The person in front of him lets out a quiet laugh, and Senkuu stills. Gen. Even before he speaks, Senkuu knows it’s Gen.
“Ah, Senkuu-chan. Welcome back.~”
There’s something in Gen’s voice. He’s heard it before. It’s that tone that Gen takes on when he’s playing a trick, pulling a fast one on someone.
“What is this.” Senkuu speaks for the first time since Magma refused to answer. His mouth is dry. The words come out cold and rough. He’s never been one for meeting people’s gazes square on, but the lack of visual information is making him want to scream, to rip off the blindfold. But the people around him - guards? - stop him from making any sudden moves.
The person behind him shifts, and Kohaku speaks, her voice arrogantly sharp. “Don’t bother trying to call for help Senkuu.”
Before Kohaku even starts her next sentence, that something in Gen’s voice clicks into place. That tone is how he spoke when talking to Hyouga.
It’s the sound of betrayal.
What Kohaku says next just cements it for him. “We’re all working with Gen.”
Senkuu forces out a dry huff of air between bloodless lips. “So you bastards finally figured out the hack, huh? All you need to do is hand science and my head over to Tsukasa, and the village is safe.”
He takes a breath, and hardens his heart, letting the analytical part of his mind reign. “It’s perfectly logical.” How he manages to get it out without his voice trembling is a mystery. Behind the blindfold, he knows tears have started to slip from his eyes. All he can feel in his trembling body is the pounding of his heart.
He had expected Tsukasa’s betrayal. Had expected Tsukasa to kill him. He should have expected this.
He hears the shifting of bodies around him. Suika - it must be her, no one else is so small or so attached to him - lets out a little gasp.
Gen sighs quietly, and Senkuu forces his attention off the girl he had thought of as a little sister. Forces it on to Gen, who Senkuu had wanted, desperately, to be his friend.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but…” Gen lets his words trail off, and Senkuu hears a slight rustle of fabric, then the footsteps of Kohaku approaching him from behind.
She touches his shoulder but before she can touch any more of him (before she can touch his neck ), he whips around, hand pulling the dagger from the secret pocket, and hits her - hopefully - in the temple with his fist containing steel. A thud sounds out behind him, and sounds of shock, but he’s already scrambling for the exit. He can’t see, can’t spare the time to tear off, untie, or cut the blindfold, but he knows where he is. The scents of Chrome’s and his experiments and baskets of materials are unmistakable after spending the seasons sleeping with it infiltrating his senses. They had climbed twice. It’s an upper floor, new, but definitely the same building.
He has no time to take it easy, and he knows he might hurt himself badly, but there is no time. He hears the echoes of his and others' footfalls, and finds the hole in the floor - the steps that will lead him down to the more familiar level. The area he knows like the back of his hand. The place he could navigate blindfolded. He stumbles down the stairs, the rising sounds of footsteps and surprise as at least three people go to Kohaku and the others slowly - thank god they’re slow to start - come after him.
He’s on the main floor. He takes three strides, wrenches open the door, and takes four running steps in a curve before leaping off the platform and rolling to the freezing snow below. If he’s placed it right - and he thinks he has - he’s now facing away from the gathering of people, away from the village, and importantly, not towards the Empire of Might either. The momentum from the jump propels him to his feet, and he resumes his frantic pace. It’s normally so dark in the winter that he almost trips over a root before he remembers that maybe he should un-blind himself and yanks at the too-tight blindfold until one eye is uncovered. The difference is, frankly, not that much better, but the flickering torches behind him uncover the shape of a few trees before it fades to inky black.
The edge of the blindfold digs painfully into his forehead, cheekbone and other eye before he brings up his hand with the knife still in his grip, reaching behind him so the blade isn’t near his delicate eye, and - slowing as much as he dares - cuts the blindfold off. Stashing it away along with the knife in one of his many bags, Senkuu runs as fast as he is able, away from the lights, the noise, and the shouting of the people he once called friends.