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A familiar snap of bone, a tight grip, tearing – his task is done before he knows it. The flower wilts.
That should’ve been it. Before, he wouldn’t bat an eye anymore, he wouldn’t feel a hint of remorse. He was doing what he could to survive and nothing else mattered. He needed power to defeat his opponents.
But the pain he feels right now is so deep, he can barely think. His body moves by its own in a frenzy he doesn’t really understand himself.
The pain itself is not unfamiliar. He’d face it many times, barrage after barrage of tough opponents and, subsequently, pain. Intolerable pain, one that lasts for long… It was par for the course and a sign of his own weakness.
But that's not what is making him stop on his tracks, feel irrevocable fear… A need to run away, a desire to run and hide.
It takes him a bit to come to terms with it.
Firm arms have enveloped him as if he were some small, weak thing.
Weak things die, weak things are taken away. He is not a weak thing, he molded himself into the total opposite. He can't stand being thought of as such, he can't show himself like that.
Shishido fails to see who it is before he feels his breathing tighten, his muscles tense up. He squirms against the grip, trying to find a way out. Somehow, he is that weak thing, unable to break himself free.
“Stop–stop! Let go of me!” He screams, though he is really begging… Words fall on deaf ears, the grip tightens further… But he is not being pulled away. The warmth increases, it feels inviting. The man holding him is quiet, but he is not cruel at all. His touch does not invade and take, it envelops and gives.
It’s different, this touch, this approach… Nothing horrible comes out of it.
Soon enough, the fear starts to wane and the energy depletes. The war against an invisible enemy that was never really there, is over in the blink of an eye. Even the pain that remains is bearable. The ache of his bones is dim, roots planted in soil.
When he finally tries to look at the man holding him, his Captain speaks.
“Let's get you patched up.” He says, no comments as to what happened. No punishment, no shame. Shishido can only stare as the man lets him go, fixes his shades, walks and expects him to follow. With a small delay, Shishido rushes to catch up, attentive, waiting for something that ultimately never arrives.
The road to the headquarters wasn’t too far, but Tsuruno walked with a steady pace, slow enough to help Shishido keep up while sustaining his wounds. In hindsight, that moment should’ve informed Shishido that Tsuruno understood, and that he wanted to give him some space to gather himself. Yet, while he walked and searched, he felt utterly confused.
It would’ve been a silent walk, Tsuruno had wanted to respect Shishido’s need for some distance after breaking him of what he assumed had been some kind of panic attack, a desperate frenzy. Even now, as he glanced at the other out of the corner of his eyes, hidden by his shades, he found him doubtful. Tilting his head just a little bit, he decided it was right to try and speak.
“Did you get reminded of something?” He asked, it made Shishido’s steps lose their rhythm for a second. He shook his head.
“No,”
“There’s that tone,” Tsuruno replied to himself in a whisper and thought to leave it at that.
“What tone, captain?” Comes with a well-masked worry.
“The tone you use when you lie.”
It stuns him silent when he tries to think about it. Tsuruno’s steps stop and Shishido’s follow. He feels his chest tighten at the prospect of what this meant. When their eyes meet, Shishido closes his own.
“I’m sorry, captain… I didn’t mean to disrespect you.” Instead, he feels a hand ruffle his hairs and his eyes open to meet the man on his tiptoes, smiling.
“It’s okay. No one ever wants to share bad memories, I get it. You’re good.” It was all he said before turning around with a chuckle and walking. His hand lifted again as he gestured for Shishido to get moving, one more time.
The rush back to their headquarters hadn’t taken long. Not with how stunned Shishido had remained. He had glanced over his hands and noticed they were still shaking, silently scolding himself. Patching things up wouldn’t be easy like this.
And yet, as if on cue, Tsuruno approaches with the peace of a saint, the total opposite of the encounter Shishido had engaged in before seeing him.
“We need to do something about that excess violence…” Tsuruno comments and, though it is calm and collected, this is the closest thing to a scolding Shishido has heard him utter all day… And it doesn’t even hurt, it doesn’t make him feel bad in the slightest. Instead, he is curious when the man sits by his side, opening the kit he had brought over. He gestures for Shishido to take off his coat and, when he does, he starts gently applying some alcohol with a cloth.
The sting feels light when it manifests at Tsuruno’s will, the flower blooms.
“Why? You told me I had to make sure he never disrespects the Family again. I did just that… I made sure.”
“Yes, but you went overboard, didn’t you? I’m sure you know what I mean… Look, you even got yourself this hurt.”
“Does it matter? It got the job done.”
“I’d never want the job done at your expense, or any of my men’s for that matter…”
Huh? That’s what his expression says as he pauses yet again. He feels the sting at his wounds as Tsuruno heals them, but he barely moves. Tsuruno sighs to himself, he doesn’t look at Shishido.
Suddenly, his only priority is to heal him, and he moves with a kind of poise Shishido had never seen before.
It makes his body tingle in a way he hadn’t known was possible for him.
An excitement, a calling, a volcanic prelude. He is deeply enthralled by it.
Even his breath grows shaky. But he can't keep his eyes away, he swallows dry as he observes.
It was just like in the beginning, right after he was scooped away from that purgatory. The first thing Tsuruno did was heal his wounds and clean him up. Right now, he was doing the same and he couldn't help but feel exposed again.
It made his heart race, but he knew better now than to be scared… It almost eased him completely. It made him feel good… and guilty.
“I'm sorry, Captain.”
“Don't be sorry. Just take good care of yourself next time, brat.”
“I'm not—!”
“There we go. Finally… Just needed you to lighten up.” It comes with a light chuckle, and he is caught off-guard yet again.
That was it?
A stare, a snap of his heart, a chuckle turning into a burst-out laugh.
Shishido laughs and Tsuruno soon follows, though he stops the moment he feels a strong grip almost drop him off-balance. Shishido keeps him in his grip, pulls him against his exposed chest, and Tsuruno swears he kept hearing him laugh…
A hearty, but pained laugh. He pats the man's back, he keeps his gentle touches against that back until the crying stops…
And all through the night, he holds him. He doesn’t let go of him, scooping him away from purgatory, tonight, too.
. . .
The sound of the wrappings as Shishido pulls on them echo in the silence of the room. The only thing that starts a chorus between them is the light laughter of his captain. It makes him groan quietly.
The moment he opened the door to his headquarters, Shishido and the rest of his men had stood up, rushed over to him in concern. Though they were all trying to revise him, attempt to get him to speak, Tsuruno had been chuckling all the way.
He was covered in wounds, vivid reds and purples decorating him from head to toe.
It was a familiar look on those Shishido had beaten to a pulp, until he won. Until they were dead and he survived. Those colors shouldn’t be on Tsuruno’s canvas.
So, resolute does Shishido grab his captain’s arm, it causes him to complain, but it does not stop Shishido from walking all the way to the man’s private office. He sits him on one of his comfortable sofas, eyes him like a grumbling lion.
“Hey, Shishido–” before he could even finish those words, Shishido had rushed away to the bathroom of the room.
Tsuruno leaned back against the sofa, taking off his shades and letting out a long sigh. His heart was still beating with fast and strong. A mixture of thrill and exhaustion had overtaken him. Maybe, he would’ve fallen asleep if it weren’t for the strong footsteps of Shishido approaching. The plop of a kit against the table makes him open his eyes and, already, Shishido has a cotton filled with alcohol, applying it around his face.
He’s not gentle, though Tsuruno notices the attempt to be.
“Hey, Shishido…” He calls to him again before hissing lightly at the sting of the alcohol against open wounds. There’s no response.
“Shishido…” He calls again, but Shishido says nothing, yet again. He is still moving, healing, and nothing else.
The thing was that, when he saw him so beaten, alarms started to ring in his head – loud and harsh. Nothing else mattered now but the well-being of his captain. And he acted to bring him back to the state he had to be in.
His laughter, his tranquility, none of it gave Shishido peace – not this time. Only the alcohol and bandages he was now wrapping up were bringing him back to the moment. The sound of the wrappings and light laughter of the man that made his heart skip a beat.
How many times had his captain called his name, he wondered as his eyes lifted up to look back at him, finally.
“Hey, come on, Shishido… Don’t just stare at me like that. Say something. This isn’t as serious as it seems.”
“Of course it is, Captain…” It is serious. Seeing him wrapped up in as many bandages as he could muster… It was serious. He had seriously gotten into a rough fight without him. He hadn’t been able to protect his captain, break him from someone else’s frenzy. The flower craves the water the clouds refuse to hand over.
“You always say I am the reckless one. That I am irresponsible… Now, look at you.” Shishido refuted, which made Tsuruno chuckle once more.
“There’s a vast difference between being blindly reckless and knowing when to be reckless, Shishido.”
“Maybe you’re right, Captain, but…” Shishido pauses, feeling his chest tighten further. There’s a pain he refuses to show, it expresses itself anyway. His eyes meet Tsuruno’s, bare as his own. “No matter what it was or what it wasn’t… If we lose you, what would we do? We’re nothing without you.”
Despite the intensity of his eyes on his captain’s, Tsuruno’s smile doesn’t waver. It turns gentle, it breaks his defenses.
“That’s not true, Shishido. You know this.” He gestures for the man to sit well on the sofa, Shishido listens, placing the bandages away for a moment. Tsuruno moves just a little closer. “You’re my right-hand man, my lieutenant, for a reason. You’ve got what it takes to be a leader. Without me, you’d all be alright because you’re here.”
His hand taps against Shishido’s shoulder, it causes an almost imperceptible jolt out of him. Shishido’s eyes wouldn’t part from Tsuruno for a while longer before he groaned, turning to glance at the bandages, the wounds he was yet to cover. It was almost like the picture in his head. Without Tsuruno, he wouldn’t have been here to begin with. Without him and the life he leads, Shishido would’ve been destined to live and die in a battlefield that wasn’t his own.
Here, with Tsuruno, he had found where he belonged…
And the pleasantly scary feeling of genuinely caring for someone. Not because you fear them, but because you want them safe, you simply want them to live, to be.
“Shishido?” His name, whispered so close makes him realize just how close he had leaned over toward the man. “Are you alright?”
“Y… Yes, captain.” He turns over, it’s time to take care of the rest of the wounds.
Maybe, they’d all be alright without him. Maybe, Shishido’s heart would be at peace, he wouldn’t have to worry of Tsuruno’s well-being, he’d be calm for the rest of his days. He’ll want for nothing, saving himself the trouble of having to decipher and make peace with these strange feelings that keep sprouting due to that man…
But he’d ultimately lose his heart without him.
His hands continue the labor of patching up wounds, Tsuruno observes him quietly, there’s no longer any laughter or complaint.
Watching over that patched-up body, here, in the safety of the place they call home, Shishido quietly forms a prayer in his head, as thanks to whatever higher power that is listening.
“You’re not as young as you used to be, Captain, you have to be more careful, nowadays.”
“Hey! I knew you were going to say something backhanded like that eventually!”
The laughter is back, the flower blooms quietly in the sun.