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“You get better at making these every time, Lord Kuro.”
The Divine Heir looked up from his rice ball, a few stray grains stuck to the boy’s lip. After using the back of his hand to wipe away the remnants of his snack, he gave the physician opposite him a warm smile.
“Thank you, Lady Emma. It’s nice to be able to share this recipe with someone. You know, Lord Isshin gave me a few pointers himself not too long ago…”
As he continued talking, Emma tilted her head in kind, idly shifting her weight as the two of them sat in his quarters for tea. Such a thing had become almost a regular thing of late, but the woman could not fault the young lord for asking for her presence. To be so young, with so much on his shoulders, and only really his shinobi for company- well, in her opinion, she thought the poor child was lacking in most needed social interaction.
And while he’d laugh and trail on about his favorite new books, for whatever reason, his most favorite topic as of late was none other than the one armed wolf. Not that Emma minded. While her ears were still partially tuned into Lord Kuro’s rice ball making methods, the physician would be lying not to admit her wandering thoughts.
“For the past few weeks, I’ve had issues focusing- I cannot drive my mind completely from you.”
That phrase had been stuck on something of a loop ever since that fateful day a week or so ago, Emma’s heart thudding a little harder at the memory.
Seeing as her guardian as she grew was the ever blunt and somewhat reclusive Dogen, Emma had more or less evolved to those tastes as well. A measurement of tonic, how snuggly a wrap of gauze must fit. How to instinctively recognize the bloody phlegm found from dragonrot. Medical textbooks had lined the walls of the small clinic Dogen ran, and thus she learned to enjoy them.
But as of late, despite not knowing much about them, the physician could only attribute her lingering thoughts to something out of the poetic and somewhat tacky romance haiku and plays the women of the courts would gossip over.
Wolf… an enigma. He was curt and could be abrasive, but a gentleman in an odd sort of way. His eyes were like no other, sharp, yet almost gentle. Hair dark as the night sky, but a stark, snow white streak adorning the side. Hands that could break, kill, or maim, and yet throw kunai with such a careful and precise motion.
He was a paradox in which she did not know how to label him.
“...Lady Emma? Lady Emma.”
A voice cut her from her thoughts, her confused gaze met with that of an equally confused Kuro. Where she felt herself pushing down an embarrassed flush, the young lord subtly raised a brow.
“Lady Emma, are you alright? You’ve gone quiet for a few minutes now…” The Divine Heir’s brow creased in concern, to which Emma only kicked herself. Here he was, a young, lonesome lord who’d so kindly asked for her company, and yet here she was, her mind wandering foolishly about his retainer.
“Oh, yes, my apologies, milord. I just got caught up in my own head, that’s all.” She dipped her head, breathing a quick sigh of relief at how fast she’d pulled herself together past her daydreaming.
While she knew that all she was experiencing was an intense bout of emotions, the physician had to give the wolf his point- it did most certainly feel like an affliction.
“I see. Is it anything I may help you with?” Kuro’s eyes softened, and Emma felt another flash of embarrassment and shame. The Divine Heir had more wisdom and kindness than most. Much more mature too, and the physician wished for him to experience something normal for once.
“You’re too kind, milord. It’s nothing you need to worry yourself with…” She breathed out, her shoulders sagging for a second before she rolled them back.
Kuro was silent for a moment, watching the woman opposite him intently, dark eyes curious.
“You do so much for me, Lady Emma, for my shinobi as well. I will not push it, but please, if you wish to speak, I will do my best to listen.”
The physician’s gaze instantly softened, her smile gentle. As she took another sip of her tea, she couldn’t help but notice the almost mischievous realization hitting the boy’s eyes. Her stomach dropped and she prayed the young lord would not make the connection. Quickly, she tried to mitigate the situation.
“I am grateful for your kindness, milord. But as I said before, it is nothing too press-”
“It’s about Wolf, isn’t it?”
Blood flooding to her cheeks, Emma’s eyes briefly went wide as saucers.
“I-I, as I said it’s nothing…” She cursed her stutter, forcing herself to drink more tea as an attempt to deflect. While she’d confessed her feelings to Wolf himself, she was in no shape to know if the blunt shinobi had picked up on her cues, or even if he’d figured himself out yet.
Even still, she was more than shocked as the Divine Heir then laughed.
“E-Excuse me…?!” She gasped, her fingers covering her lips at her outburst. In her embarrassed and flush state, defensive instincts had taken over.
For a moment, Kuro was silent, processing the fact the normally level-headed and demure healer had just raised her voice. Only to then plaster a large, knowing grin across his features, laugher escaping him again.
“Oh, Lady Emma, my apologies. It’s just that…” Kuro’s smile dimmed as a thoughtful look came over him. “Well, I won’t say too much more, but I wish you two the best. Wolf doesn’t take enough time to think for himself…” That comment Emma could agree with, her embarrassed ire replaced with amusement.
Waving her hands, the physician forced her face to cool down, the radiant heat from her blush fervent. Lowering her arms, she let her shoulders briefly slump as she subjected to her fate.
“Yes, he most certainly doesn’t…” An almost coy smile curled over her mouth. “While I hate to partake in silly romantic gossip, I must say Lord Kuro, you’ve hit the mark.” A sigh came over her. “Was I that obvious?” Not yet willing to admit her and Wolf’s awkward admittance, she was curious as to how the Divine Heir had pinpointed so directly. Other than her and the man of her affections, she did not have much desire for attention.
But as she’d asked, she now noticed it was Kuro who was looking mildly uncomfortable, a child stealing sweets from his parents’ cupboard.
“Milord…?”
He turned his gaze to the lingering scraps of his rice balls, quickly stuffing the snack into his mouth. Raising her eyebrow, Emma connected two and two rather swiftly.
“Milord, I’m not upset. But you’ve had a conversation with Wolf about this already, haven’t you?”
Chewing for a moment, the Divine Heir made eye contact with her, his head bobbing a slow nod. He swallowed, fingers fiddling with some of the stray rice grains that had stuck to his hands. He truly looked like the boy he was, not some ritualistic blood trophy to be won like so many revered his as.
“Yes, Lady Emma. I should have told you, I apo-” Emma raised her index, quieting the boy’s apology. “It’s just…I could tell something was eating at him, and needed some guidance…” A weak sigh left his lips. “And you know, if Wolf is bothered by something, I have the right to be concerned.”
Emma nodded, trying to assuage the lord’s embarrassment. That was not to mean she was less than curious as to how the conversation went, the physician was inclined to pry.
“Of course. If it isn’t so much to ask, might I know…” She trailed, her words lost. What exactly did she want to know? Her mind faltered. Perhaps she didn’t- to leave this to the whims of fate. It would be unfair to Wolf to know his feelings before he fully understood them himself.
Kuro tilted his head, taking in the physician’s quiet mulling.
“La…” But as the syllable fell from his lips, Emma could detect the creek of a door and the subtle thump of footfalls, but in the corner away from the main door. Watching Kuro, Emma could see he’d picked up on the sound as well.
Seeing as they were still in a hostile environment, the physician trailed her hand to her thigh, a thin dagger strapped beneath the layers of her kimono. As she had been sitting facing the normal entrance, she was at a disadvantage to seeing what was behind her. She was no shinobi, but the Divine Heir’s life was much more valuable than hers. As her fingers found the handle beneath her clothes, all tension was relieved as Kuro’s face lightened.
“Wolf-!”
Emma subtly pulled her fingers back to her lap, turning her torso to meet the gaze of one rugged shinobi.
At his lord’s recognition, Wolf sank to a knee, head dipped as he positioned himself next to Emma. The physician could swear she heard the sound of her own heart thrumming in her ears.
He had been gone for a few weeks- and it showed. Splotches of mud and grime dotted his uniform, and his stubble looked a bit rougher than normal. The almost acidic and metallic scent of blood that followed him seemed stronger this time, and Emma could make out the small ways in which he was trying to keep pressure off his torso; he must have had a pretty nasty wound to the ribs, one she could only assume he had revived from based on his slowly returning complexion.
Despite all this, she could only be mesmerized- he was handsome, in a strange way.
Her ogling was cut off for the words that came from Lord Kuro’s mouth, her ears perking at her name.
“-I believe I should leave you and Lady Emma to discuss. I feel you two will have much to say to each other.” The Divine Heir rose, quickly patting off the stray grains of rice before picking up a book and heading to the upper floor.
Had she really been so infatuated that she missed Wolf’s entire report? The realization made her chew her lip. But before she had any time to mull over, the shinobi had seated himself across from her, his dark eyes neutral as always. And yet… something almost expectant lay beneath them today.
As her lips opened to say something, she was stopped as she watched him pull something from his pocket. A gourd seed. He grunted, handing it over, his prosthetic grazing her skin.
“Found this while in the village, down in Ashina’s depths.” He explained curtly, watching as Emma observed it in her palm.
She could only feel a twinge of disappointment.
“I see. Later today, I can get this infused into your gourd.”
And while she spoke those words, her mind raced.
Had he really not understood what she’d told that day? Was he really not going to mention it? To act as normal? Was the expectant look in his eyes only for her clinical services? Perhaps she should have asked Kuro what he’d said.
…Did he maybe actually not feel this way? What if it really was an ailment, that she’d missed in her own emotions, wishing he was reciprocating? What if he had some terrible infection she’d missed over her silly thoughts? What if-
“Emma.” She looked up from the small seed in her hand to the dark, mirror-like orbs of the wolf. He hadn’t used her title as ‘lady’ before her name- it made it feel that much more intimate. But she was getting her hopes up, wasn’t she…
“Lad…Emma. Lord Kuro had advised me that we need to share some words.”
Her stomach sank, fearing the worst. Despite his curt nature, that phrase only spelt disaster.
“Yes? What may I help you with, Wolf?”
Silly heartbreak, she knew, but it hurt all the same. She braced.
But what came next was far from what she’d anticipated.
Gingerly- a description she’d never place with him- he took her free hand into his prosthetic, eyes watching her face. His thumb was atop her hand, and the digit pressed down, a soft squeeze.
Emma was in shock.
“Wolf…?” While she’d praise herself for not sputtering like a fool, she was more so still caught up in his action.
He tilted his head, curious.
“I suppose those are not words, are they.”
With the strangeness of the situation and his typical dry questioning-statement, Emma couldn’t stop her laughter. The shinobi before her did not let go of her hand, but a confused look flashed over his features.
“Lady Emma? What…what is so amusing?”
Through her laughing tears, Emma grinned.
“I’m just being silly, Wolf. P-Please, continue.” With her chest hiccuping from her giggles, her words shook with a smile.
Blinking a few times, the wolf gave a subtle clearing of his throat as he tried again. His grip on her hand remained.
“Lord Kuro has helped me to come to understand…I…I..” The words died in his throat, but much like him, they found their way back.
“I have… emotions, for you, Emma.” He said the phrase with such uncertainty but genuinity, Emma could feel the smothering weight from before lift.
While she knew in every courtesan play put on for the nobles, this would be when she’d declare her own love for him. But that would be undermining what conclusion she hoped he’d come to, that he figured out his own feelings and hers too, on his own, if with some help.
The rare, nearly shy way he looked at her paused, his eyes confused for a second. She remained quiet, taking the moment to squeeze his hand this time.
As if a chime went off, the wolf settled his jaw.
“...And you, me.”