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“I brought tea.”
Emma and Sekijo were sitting in front of the lit candles, chatting casually about something, when Wolf appeared at the door of the Dilapidated Temple, carefully carrying a whitish bottle. It was night and the blizzard in the region was relentless.
Sekijo made a nasal noise, turning with difficulty to face the man. Wolf looked tired and his clothes were stained with blood and guts. A common sight, but no less disturbing.
“I hope you’re not bringing tea regularly, Master Wolf.” Emma commented, keeping a serious look on Sekijo. “Don’t get me wrong, but there are people who don’t know how to control themselves.”
“Don’t be silly, where is the education I gave you? We don’t make slights about receiving gifts,” he motioned for Wolf to come closer. “Bring it here. And sit down.”
Wolf blinked blankly, holding the bottle out to Emma instead of Sekijo. Something in her look made him believe it was the best option.
“I need to go back to work, there are still ingredients that—”
“The world will not be saved in one night, young shinobi.” Sekijo pointed to the weather outside. “And considering the current conditions, it would be wise to seek shelter and not go out and take risks in this blizzard, even if you are immortal.”
He still didn't look convinced. He wasn't used to being integrated into those meetings. Then, Emma intervened.
“He’s right, Master Wolf. Lord Kuro would be worried if something happened.” There was a tiny, gentle smile on her face, which made him come closer. “Come and keep yourself warm.”
Finally, he agreed. Kuro was in the safety of the castle and was probably sleeping at that time — Emma only left him after ensuring that he had fallen asleep and not escaped to read in the library. On top of that, after Owl's attack, Isshin had increased the security of the young lord's quarters.
“Great, he only listens to you,” Sekijo complained, pouring the sake in small portions.
Still shy, Wolf sat next to Emma, opposite Sekijo. Although their coexistence was pleasant, whenever Emma was present there was a certain tension in the air that made Sekijo intimidating in his eyes. And Wolf wasn't used to being intimidated.
A small porcelain ochoko was pushed towards him, it was filled with the clear, strong-smelling liquid. Looking around, both Emma and Sekijo were tasting their drinks, sighing in satisfaction.
“Too sweet for my taste, but it will do.” Sekijo smacked his lips after drinking an entire portion at once.
“I must say that it is much better than that monkey booze you are used to. Where did you get this, Master Wolf?” When Emma's gaze went to him, she laughed seeing him hesitate with the sake. "There's something wrong?"
“I shouldn’t drink.”
Sekijo sneered. “You always bring drinks and never drink, you are a strange fellow.”
Wolf looked at the small circular cup between his fingers, remembering his father.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Emma assured gently.
“It’s just… I never drank alcohol,” he revealed in a low, hoarse voice. “My father never allowed it, he said I shouldn’t indulge in such luxuries.”
The old sculptor let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. Wolf had never heard him laughing before.
“But he himself loved to indulge in such luxuries, huh? Your father was a big hypocrite, I must say.”
“Did you know my father?”
“Who hasn’t met that bastard?” Sekijo grunted, going back to get more sake. “He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Always up to something, poisoning other people's ears. I know he was your father, but you did a favor by freeing the world from his existence.”
“Orangutan…” Emma placed a hand on Sekijo's shoulder, restraining him. “I beg your pardon, Master Wolf. This gentleman here no longer has the same resistance to alcohol and loosens his tongue when the drink enters,” she looked back at Wolf. “In any case, Owl is no longer here to suppress you with orders. You don't have to worry.”
That feeling was strange, he still hadn't gotten used to the absence of his father's authoritarian figure. Even when he believed he was dead, his image rested deep in Wolf's head, reaffirming the code he was to follow faithfully until death. Now that he had killed him himself, he felt strange, unaccustomed to freedom.
Freedom. Thinking about this, he brought the ochoko to his lips and tasted the liquid that burned his entire throat and evaporated through his nose, warming up his entire body in seconds, like he was just set on fire. It took effort not to cough and make a ridiculous scene, but his struggle did not go unnoticed. Emma brought her hands to her mouth, hiding her laughter. Sekijo was amused, raising another glass in Wolf’s honor.
“In honor of the first times.”
Wolf felt the hit of alcohol both in his stomach and in his head.
"It tastes funny."
“You get used to it after a while,” Emma assured, also drinking from her glass, without showing any kind of reaction.
He admired her, as he always did when he brought her drinks. It was different now, however. He was drinking with her. He didn't understand social relationships very well, but he understood that it was a step further in that relationship. They were something more now, although he couldn't say what. And that encouraged him to drink more, trying to imitate Emma's plain and unshakable posture. The second sip wasn't that bad.
“I would like to ask something,” Wolf said then.
Emma smiled, lowering her head after finishing another portion.
“There you are, good old Master Wolf.”
He frowned, not understanding.
“... What does that mean?”
“You always like to ask questions when you bring me sake.”
“Has he been bringing you sake?” Sekijo's question hung in the air, unanswered, as Wolf straightened up.
“I didn’t know I was bothering you.”
"Oh no!" Emma awkwardly shook her head. Her hair danced around her face, which was beginning to turn red. “Don’t ever think this way. I like it.”
Maybe his face was getting red too, for the heat from the drink rose up his throat to his forehead when she said that. Wolf blinked in her direction several times, watching her watch him back. Those big hazel eyes, drinking in the reddish light of the flames that flickered around them. He breathed deeply and loudly looking into those eyes, unable to look away from her.
“ Ahem, ” Sekijo cleared his throat when he noticed the silence was too long for his liking. “What did you want to ask?”
Wolf recovered his posture, still feeling his face hot and a strange heat. Even so, he drank again. Perhaps another sip would ease the growing strange feeling.
“How did you meet my father?”
“It was during the rebellion, just before I rescued that girl there,” he drank, having Emma and Wolf's eyes on him. “I was running away from some bandits and discovered that they were led by him. So we didn't get along very well, if that's what you want to know. I managed to escape, but once you meet Owl, he never leaves you alone.”
Emma frowned, filling her ochoko with the bottle that was quickly starting to empty.
“You never told me about this,” she commented, bringing the porcelain to her lips. Wolf imitated her again, even the way she held the small glass.
“If I had taken a little longer, it would’ve been Owl who would’ve found you,” he revealed to Emma and looked back at Wolf. “But somewhere, not far away, he found himself a stray puppy. So, he was too busy to continue his attacks.”
There was a brief silence as Sekijo finished his drink.
“But not even Owl gave me as much trouble as this girl sitting next to you.”
Emma sighed, putting her right hand to her forehead while shaking her head.
“Oh, please don’t start…”
“What do you mean?” Wolf's curiosity was suddenly stirred.
“You know her now, all gentle and calm, little do you know she was as wild as a stray cat.”
Emma looked at Wolf, noticing his attentive eyes, paying full attention to that unusual statement.
“He’s exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not.” Sekijo poured more drinks for all of them. Now, the bottle was at the end, which made him sigh sadly. “When I brought her in, she was quiet and sullen, just like you. But then came the anger. She kicked, scratched and bit. And how she bit!”
She lowered her head, as if she could escape the conversation. Her cheeks were red like her lips. She looked beautiful, all shy like that.
“As soon as Dogen took her to the castle, I knew it would be trouble. One day she bit Genichiro and drew blood from Ashina's heir. Isshin thought it was hilarious, laughing with his hand on his belly, but Dogen came to bring her back as punishment.” Sekijo looked at her then. “So, I knew she would survive in this land.”
There was a hint of a smile on his bearded face, as if he were proud.
“It's hard to imagine you like this…” Wolf murmured, looking at her. He had always known her to be so calm and resilient, seeing a fierce woman in that countenance was almost incompatible. But those were other times, other people.
“Until you make her angry again,” he choked, coughing violently.
“He's teasing you, don't listen… I'm not like that anymore, I just… I felt angry all the time about everything that had happened.” Emma drank the remaining sip and felt satisfied, refusing the glass. “With Genichiro, well, he was also angry all the time, we fed each other's anger, with fighting, arguing, teasing. It was Isshin who helped me. Training with him eased the anger I felt until I no longer felt it. So, I was able to focus on what I should: saving people’s lives.”
Wolf pondered what Emma said, seeing himself in those words. Being an orphan like her, the child of a war he did not choose to fight, he remembered the rage that paralyzed and rendered him silent. Unlike her, however, he didn't fight or explode. His father directed his feelings, molding the poignant rage at his core into the art of death. And just like her, in a twisted way he focused on his own duty: killing people.
The sake became too bitter then. He barely managed to swallow the last sip and discarded the glass. Noticing his uneasiness with the conversation, Emma straightened her skirts and stood up.
“Well, I must admit that it was an honor to be able to drink sake in your company, Master Wolf.” She bowed. “It was a pleasant evening, but I fear I will have to return to the castle in case Lord Isshin or Lord Kuro need me.”
He stood up suddenly. And when he did, something went wrong. The whole world seemed to spin around him and the ground gave way beneath his feet. He thought the whole world was suddenly falling, but holding onto the wooden pillar, he noticed that everything remained in its place. Emma came to his aid, giving a restrained laugh as she held him.
“Is everything okay? Drinking while sitting can bring surprises when you get up.” Indeed, he felt infinitely more dizzy, as if he had drunk the entire bottle alone. “And you're not used to drinking.”
He shook his face, recovering.
“I'm fine... I'll accompany you to the castle. It's snowing a lot and…”
"Are you sure? I’m beginning to suspect that I’ll be the one accompanying you.”
Emma smiled, having fun. And seeing her like that made him want to smile, but he never smiled and suddenly everything was funny.
Swallowing a weak laugh, he confirmed that he was sure. Then Emma gave him her arm — more as a support for him than for her. And after saying goodbye to Sekijo, Wolf opened the umbrella attached to the prosthetic, covering both of their heads before they left the Temple.
“Right, that’s pretty useful!” She marveled. “I’ve never seen it used like that.”
Outside, the blizzard eased, but the bad weather continued. A cold wind was blowing from all sides, snapping the bamboo around and ruffling the woman's hair. Emma flinched, keeping her body against his.
Taking the first clumsy steps, Wolf was taking her forward when she intended to go to the side, which made them both get confused.
“Where are you going, Master Wolf? The passage is around here, have you forgotten?”
Wolf grunted, thinking as quickly as he could with his alcohol-affected reasoning.
“Hm… It's blocked, I think. Kuro must have dragged some bookshelves, I think.”
“Oh, is that so?” Emma arched an eyebrow towards him, her lips forming a mischievous smile. She shrugged, sighing. "What are we going to do, then? I can't cross the broken bridge. Do you happen to intend to carry me under these conditions or…”
That caught him off guard.
“I… I could, if you…” he lowered his head, giving up. “I believe I’m making an excuse for you to stay.”
Her smile grew. “The weather is horrible, but… Shall we go for a walk, then?”
When he agreed, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, bringing her closer with the excuse of his umbrella. Emma didn't complain, much less did she push him away. On the contrary, she held him back.
The yard of the Dilapidated Temple was a mess of soft snow and dead bamboo leaves. Clouds covered the sky, hiding the moon and stars. The weather was horrible, indeed, yet they walked together close to Hanbei's location— but even he had joined Fujioka in seeking refuge under the Temple's cover.
Suddenly, Wolf felt strange. Physically strange. With pressure in his torso from inside. He brought his free hand to his chest, feeling his own heart racing, not really knowing what was happening. Then, his torso jumped. It jumped! And when he did, a strange noise came from his throat.
Emma turned her face towards him, noticing his agitation.
“Are you feeling well?”
“That’s strange, I—” again!
He grunted, uncomfortable, which made Emma laugh softly and bring her hand to his chest.
“You have hiccups! Never had hiccups before?”
“Not that I remember, that’s—” again!
“It’s normal when you drink alcohol. Or when you eat too quickly.”
"What is that?!"
“Well, let’s say you’re just… dysregulated.”
“... And how do I fix it?” He felt it again, putting his hand over his mouth. "I do not like this."
She laughed again, amused by his irritated expression.
“It’s very bad and very persistent. Come on, let me help you.” Emma brought her hands up to his face. “Hold your breath, that’s it. Keep your mouth shut, great. Now, I'm just going to cover your ears to help with the pressure.”
And that's what she did. Both of her hands covered his ears, muffling the sounds of the outside world and generating an interesting pressure in his skull.
“Let’s count to twenty,” her voice was muffled by the seclusion of the sound, but still clear with instructions.
Emma started counting and, at first, nothing seemed to happen. Until the pressure from his skull seemed to occupy his entire torso, filling it from the inside. For the first ten seconds, he felt as if he was about to choke, as if something was straining to get out. Then, in the remaining seconds, that urgency slowly dissipated, disappearing with the hiccups.
But that wasn’t all. Having Emma hold his face, counting to twenty so his senses could regulate themselves again, brought more than just relief to that discomfort. As he released his breath, Wolf felt an unusual calmness fill his being, relaxing even his most tense muscles. It was as if the whole world became slower, calmer, more peaceful. And all that anger he felt dissipated along with the breath he was holding.
“How do you feel now?” Emma asked, still smiling.
“I too feel angry all the time, but it’s different with you. You make the anger… dissipate, as if I am more than the anger I feel, as if I am not just that.”
Emma blushed at the sudden confession. Wolf couldn't tell if it was one of the effects of the alcohol making his tongue loose, but he was glad that he did, that he finally said something beyond the usual formality that surrounded them. He was tired of being silent, of feeling in silence, of living in silence — at least that night with that company.
“Your presence comforts me too,” she replied in a low, heavy voice. “I like when you're close.”
She, who still had her hands on his face, touched his beard with care, dancing her fingers over the spiky strands, transforming the touch into a caress. It was different and, at the same time, similar to the touches when she examined his face. She was always touching him with affection.
“And if I get closer…”
“As if you needed to ask.”
Wolf pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and soft. And tasted like the sake they drank together, but there, in her lips, the drink tasted much better. He opened his mouth, enveloping hers, which was also open. And it was strange that he knew how to do that so naturally, even for the first time.
It was an unusual scene, if anyone was watching. A man covered in blood, standing out among the white snow, holding a golden umbrella while kissing a woman under that gray curtain of blizzard. But it was also beautiful.
Maybe the alcohol or nervousness made his face burn violently. Even his ears seemed to burn. He fumbled, pulling his lips away, realizing he was panting despite such minimal effort.
“Well, I think that’s enough of first times for today,” she teased, her face still close to his. “I hope this isn’t the last time, though.”
“Drinking sake or….”
Emma didn't respond, just raised her eyebrows and left him alone under the umbrella. And he noticed that his arm was sore from being raised for so long.
“Are you sure you’re going out like this?”
“The alcohol made me hot.”
There was a different tone in her voice that he didn't understand — yet. Emma smiled, noticing his confusion.
Before leaving, she kissed Wolf one more time.