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Settled on his knees, John stares at the darkening sky, air humid with the looming threat of rain. The wind blows against his face, caressing it, before going on its way, traveling along the skies high above Osaka.
Two years. It’s been two years since he arrived here, starving and desperate to return back home. Back when he considered England his home.
He’d long abandoned his wishes of going back. It’s just as Lord Toranaga says: he was meant to stay here.
Oh, if he would’ve heard himself two years ago. He’d have called himself a shit-eating idiot and kicked himself over the head. His crew would’ve done the same.
The sound of a door sliding open and close, then footsteps. Lord Toranaga sits next to him, calculating eyes landing on his own.
“You know what day it is,” he says, and it’s not a question.
John looks off into the distance once again. “I do,” he agrees. His Japanese is now more advanced than ever. He can easily participate in simple conversations, and only has slight difficulty keeping up with what others are saying as long as they don’t use words he’s never heard of.
Lord Toranaga hums, also turning his gaze to the sky. “England,” he attempts to pronounce. “Do you miss it?”
Sighing through his nose, John gives a small nod. “Sometimes,” he admits. “It’s where I grew up. But I’d never truly want to live there again.” He turns to Lord Toranaga. “This is my home now. My life… this is where it belongs.”
Lord Toranaga’s lips curl upwards, very slightly. “Well said. I am glad you feel this way.” He clears his throat. “Regardless, I give you my permission to leave if you desire.”
John smiles. “Of course, you say that after I mention not wanting to leave.” Lord Toranaga always gets what he wants, after all. Just as earthquakes are inevitable, and flowers always fall—it is just a fact. He wanted to win the war, so he did.
And John… is someone Lord Toranaga wants. And so he managed to make him stay of his own free will. The man always finds a way.
“I never planned on keeping you here like a leashed dog forever. If you truly wanted to leave, you would’ve found a way, I’m sure.” Lord Toranaga closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Though I am glad that is not the case.”
John nods for no one to see. He reaches his hand out and places it atop Lord Toranaga’s, settled on his knee. As if he expected it, Lord Toranaga turns his hand and threads their fingers together.
A side he only shows John. John, a foreigner who landed on the shores of this country not knowing a speck of its culture or history; who evaded death countless times when the odds were against him; who now sits next to the shogun himself, leads part of his army, is closer to him than the vast majority of people who know him will ever be.
It would almost sound like a fever dream, if he weren’t already used to it.
There’s a long pause, as the air grows damper and Lord Toranaga’s thumb brushes against his knuckles.
“The ships are coming along well. The men learn fast,” John says to break the silence.
Lord Toranaga nods at him. “As to be expected.” He changes the subject. “I want you to look at the city below.” John feels rough fingers grab his chin and turn his head downwards. “What do you see?”
John swallows. A test question? An honest one? He’s used to dealing with Lord Toranaga’s games, but that doesn’t mean he actually knows what goes on in his head.
“Osaka,” he answers as a joke, albeit not a very funny one.
Lord Toranaga doesn’t laugh, but he can hear the smile in his voice as he replies, “Come on.” John feels his breath against his throat, close, and he’d be worried about them being seen if he didn’t already know that Lord Toranaga never makes such simple mistakes.
…Ah. So it’s that kind of question.
John takes in a breath. “I see… your city. Your country.”
The fingers holding his chin loosen up, turning his head back to his Lord, who’s smiling with a satiated smile, a dark, satisfied glint in his eye.
“Good, Anjin.”
His Lord pulls him close until their lips connect, hungry and wanting.
In the distance, the first raindrop hits the ground.