Chapter Text
No matter what, Atsu would have her revenge.
But she really should have seen this coming. Did her bloodlust really blind her so far beyond simple logic? Atsu clenched her jaw weakly, what was she still doing here? She tried again to stand up to no avail, her knees buckled and she only fell back down against the snowy log. The fire cackled mockingly at her.
That damned fox wormed her way past Atsu’s defenses, just like Saito. She was one of his subordinates, after all. Atsu just couldn’t believe how she let that happen. If she were able, she wouldn’t still be resting here. She didn’t have the time to rest, her parents were waiting to be brought to peace.
Atsu could never forget how she led death right to her family’s home. How could she ever forget? She was no better than Saito. Oyuki’s presence made her feel comfortable—too comfortable, and so she let her guard down like a fool. She was too kind to Atsu for the standards of this world, it was irritatingly obvious.
Atsu was simply glad to be another step closer to wiping out the Yotei Six that she didn’t even question Oyuki’s kindness. She slammed her fist against the log she was leaning against, she hated feeling this weak. She wanted to yell and do something— anything. Instead, she was stuck having to recover her strength.
The Yotei Six all deserved death for what they’d done, to her and to all others. For sixteen years, Atsu honed her skills towards this one goal. She fought in Sekigahara and survived, she was going to meet her goal no matter what.
Oyuki was just supposed to be a shamisen musician who was secretly strong enough to deal with rowdy men in the Red Crane Inn. She was never supposed to be the Kitsune. Atsu hated how immediately trusting she was of that woman, her presence drew Atsu in too easily. It made sense, she was the Kitsune, the trickster fox. It really was the perfect name for a woman like that.
All those times that Oyuki helped her, was it all for her own enjoyment? From defending her from an execution charge by Commander Fujita—not that she would have let him go through with it—to helping her find the new Kitsune. Part of her wanted to believe that Oyuki truly was sorry—but her revenge wouldn’t let her.
Her mind was split. She wanted to understand Oyuki and why she would do this. This being, trying to help Atsu find the Kitsune. She also wanted to stay true to her mission—to her family. She promised them six graves and peace. Atsu convinced herself that Oyuki’s display of regret was just another mask, another trick.
Atsu glared at the now space across from her, at where Oyuki was once sitting. All the thinking only worsened her headache, but it was all she could do in her state. She really wanted to know when Oyuki realized that she was the girl from so many years ago. Was it when she first walked into the Red Crane Inn? Did she always know it was her? Or was it when she told Oyuki her name?
Atsu thought back on their first outing. Oyuki had failed to follow after the Nine Tails—likely on purpose, Atsu remarked in her mind as she frowned—and instead, followed after Atsu. It was probably because she didn’t want Atsu to rush in alone. It would allow Oyuki to be there to watch over Atsu’s movements.
Not just that, when Atsu shared her name with Oyuki, she seemed to recognize her—recognize her as more than the ‘Onryo.’ At the time, Atsu merely brushed that look off as Oyuki recognizing her from her bounty posters. Atsu wondered if Oyuki planned on ever telling her the truth. But then Atsu decided that it didn’t matter, because Oyuki was the Kitsune, there was nothing changing that. She would be dead by tomorrow, Atsu would make sure of that.
Atsu weakly threw a few small logs into the fire, she had to keep it burning through the night. She looked back at the spot where Oyuki once sat, the map was still there. She wondered if the map actually was where she wanted Atsu to meet her. For all she knew, it could just be an ambush waiting for her. It was a classic Nine Tail move, as the Kitsune, it only made sense that it would be her next move.
She could still hear the pleaful tone in Oyuki’s voice, “I am not your enemy, Atsu.” But she didn’t care, she just wanted to grab her katana and cut that damned Kitsune down. Unfortunately for her, even with the antidote given to her by Oyuki, the effects of the poison still lingered.
“Regain your strength, and meet me here. I’ll prove it,”
—
And prove it she would. That next morning, Atsu was up as soon as she felt the sun’s gentle warmth on her skin. When she reached for her katanas, she found that her hand was still trembling from the poison’s effects. Atsu figured that the effects would wear off as she rode to Oyuki’s location.
She slipped both her katanas into her belt and grabbed the map that the older woman left behind. It was an old graveyard, the location suited for what was to come, Atsu thought. There was just the slightest chill in the wind, as Atsu followed the map. Her mind was lost in thought, in what she would do to Oyuki once she got her hands on her. She could hear the soft notes of the shamisen in the distance, this was her sound. Atsu drew closer to the graveyard and dismounted, her hand was already prepared to draw her katana.
“Are you here to fight or listen?” Oyuki asked as she stood up from the snowy ground. Atsu didn’t have to answer for Oyuki to know what she was going to do. Atsu figured that Oyuki just wanted to have hope that maybe she would listen. Oyuki didn’t want to fight, but she was ready to. Atsu could see it in the way she held herself.
She hooked her shamisen behind her back, next to her kusarigama. Atsu could see it hanging off her back. She wondered if it was the same one from that night. That thought only fueled her need for blood. Oyuki kept her guard up, she knew that Atsu was more stubborn than most drunken customers at the Red Crane Inn.
“I don’t want to fight, Atsu,”
Atsu couldn’t care less, but Oyuki stuck with her word. When Atsu charged at Oyuki, she remained on the defensive side for almost the entire fight. It was infuriating, did Oyuki not take her seriously? Atsu wanted her to fight back properly. She didn’t train for sixteen years and suffer through countless restless nights just for it all to be this easy. Atsu wanted a fight out of Oyuki, not this quick, one sided massacre. The Kitsune was a source of fear and mystery, and that was who Atsu wanted to fight—to kill.
To Atsu’s dismay? Joy? She didn’t know how she felt about the situation, but their duel was short lived. On the ground, Oyuki held her arms out, her eyes looked exhausted—yet ready. This wasn’t what Atsu wanted, she wanted her death, but not like this. “You want your revenge? Take it,” Oyuki spoke gently, she had conceded. Atsu gritted her teeth before stopping herself from lobbing Oyuki’s head off.
Irritated by her lack of effort, Atsu eventually listened to what she had to say. Or rather, she learned what Oyuki had to teach. As resentful as she was with her, Atsu noticed Oyuki carried herself with a different lightness that she had never seen. Was it because Atsu knew the truth now? Now that Oyuki had one less secret to hide? Her eyes weren't so overcast, she had a certain clearness to her now. It made her wonder what happened for her to have lost that glimmer. It made it a little difficult to hate her as much as Atsu wanted to, but only a little.
Maybe more than a little.
That night, she expected Oyuki to share her past as a last ditch resort to gaining sympathy at some point, but she didn’t know what she was about to hear. It made her sick, to think that beneath her layers, was the permanent branding of the twin wolves by Saito. That the night of her family’s slaughter was the night that Oyuki was planning to leave Saito’s side. That Oyuki was only going to finish one last job before escaping. Atsu wondered if that was the only occasion where Saito punished her. How much was she forced to silently endure under Saito’s reign?
Atsu sympathized with her, but there was still no excuse for what she did. Her parents were dead, and her family was torn apart. Her brother was now a Lord in the Matsumae clan, and she was just the vengeful Onryo. She had no honor compared to him. But she didn’t need it, she only needed her revenge. Or so she believed, Jubei made Atsu doubt herself. He had a point, what would she do after the deaths of the Yotei Six? Did she have plans for a life afterwards? Would she come live with him in Matsumae castle? Settle down? Find a lover?
Atsu wanted to learn more about Oyuki. She wanted to know more about the woman beneath the mask. Now, if anyone had asked her why she kept asking Oyuki questions about her past, she would’ve explained that it was so she could figure out her weaknesses. “Why the Kitsune?” She had asked as they camped around a fire, they had just killed off a group of Nine Tails as one of Oyuki’s lessons. They had just finished eating their dinner for the night. It shouldn't have mattered what her answer was, but Atsu still wanted to know. She wasn’t sure why she was so interested in Oyuki’s past. As much as her answers could’ve been lies, Atsu found herself asking more questions than she expected.
“I’ve hid behind so many masks, I just want to show someone my true face.” In the dark of the night, Oyuki’s eyes reflected the flames of the camp fire. They were brown and mournful and melancholic, Atsu could almost believe the eyes behind her words. She really wanted to.
That night, Atsu fell asleep thinking of those eyes. Those boundless brown—almost amber eyes, in the face of their campfire. She hoped it was the truth, and Atsu was never optimistic about such things—in fact, she was never optimistic about anything, really.
In the early morning, they rode back together through the fog of Teshio Ridge. The cold was the worst part of Teshio Ridge, it made Atsu miss her home. As a child, she remembered always feeling a constant warmth in her home. Even in winter, Atsu had the warmth of love from her little family. It was something that Atsu was sure she’d never feel again. That familiar warmth was something she took for granted.
Atsu didn’t expect another fight when they returned. She expected an eventual lesson in getting over the effects of the Kitsune’s poison, but not while fighting Oyuki. “I thought you didn’t want to fight?” Atsu asked, she remembered the way her own brows furrowed in hesitation. She didn’t understand, both Oyuki and her own hesitation. Fighting wasn’t what Oyuki wanted, and it was supposed to be what Atsu wanted.
The hand resting on the hilt of her katana wavered ever so noticeably.
“And I thought you did.” Oyuki should be right, but Atsu didn’t feel so. A few days ago Atsu would have been ready to take her head and cross her name off her list, so why did she feel so conflicted now? Even though she was unsure, Oyuki encouraged her to take her revenge. At the very least, Oyuki wouldn’t hold back, and neither would Atsu. That hesitation dissipated as her poisoned mind showed her the nightmares of that night.
All those nights where she had to relive the sounds of her mother being hung had led her to this moment. Atsu was prepared to fight off her delusions alone, but she found that it was more difficult than she thought. All she saw were flames, and in the middle of it all, the Kitsune. With every clash of her blade with the Kitsune’s, she could hear her mother’s voice, and she was singing her last words. It fueled her rage and led her to lose some control. Atsu begun to swing recklessly at the Kitsune and cry out at her delusions.
“Resist, Atsu. Fight it!”
Like a lighthouse on the stormy sea or a breath of fresh air in the depths of an ocean, Oyuki’s voice called out for her through the dark hallucinations. Each cut left by Oyuki’s kusarigama grounded her to reality. As much as Atsu wanted to doubt herself, Oyuki continued to instill strength in her. In that fight, Atsu felt that she would have lost without Oyuki’s voice there to guide her out of her hallucinations.
In the end, Atsu was left standing over Oyuki, and Atsu could truly see her now. The early morning sunlight shone upon Oyuki’s face, raw and unmasked. That was when Atsu saw that the Kitsune in front of her was no more. She thought about how strange it was to see her like this, to see the brutal Kitsune down on her knees. Even so, Atsu couldn’t forgive her
But she wanted to try.
With the lingering splatters of Oyuki’s blood, she crossed the Kitsune off her list. Oyuki’s eyes widened as she watched Atsu cross—what was once her name—out of her kill list. The message was plain and simple, the Kitsune was dead. Not only that, Atsu had succeeded in enduring the Kitsune’s poison. Sheathing her katana, she offered a hand to her fellow shamisen player.
“Come on,” Atsu gestured as she held her hand out for Oyuki to take. She placed her hand in Atsu’s, and Atsu could feel that Oyuki’s hands were just as rough as hers. She knew very well that it was the result of years of battle and hardship. In a swift motion, Oyuki was on her feet and Atsu led her into the small house.
“Sit, I’ll treat your wounds,” Atsu ordered, and Oyuki only laughed, “There is no need for that, I’m capable of treating myself.” Atsu took the katanas off her belt and set them close by. “I never said that you weren’t,” Atsu remarked as she grabbed a bucket of water and a towel. She was just stubborn like that, Oyuki knew that very well.
“Show me your shoulder, I know I cut deep.”
Oyuki chuckled softly and obliged, she shrugged off her many layers and revealed her pale, scarred shoulder. Most of the cuts were somewhat shallow, but a few of her wounds were deep. Atsu returned with some supplies and sat behind Oyuki, she gently cleaned the blood off her back with a damp towel.
Oyuki didn’t make a single sound, nor did she flinch at all. As Atsu dabbed away at Oyuki’s wounds, she wondered if that lack of response to pain was because of the way Saito raised her, or if it was because of all the pain she had already endured. Sixteen years, that was how long Oyuki was forced to suffer in silence under Saito’s wrath. Not even Saito’s strongest subordinates were safe from him.
“What are thinking? I can feel you staring,” Oyuki pointed out as she turned just enough of her head back to peer at Atsu. Atsu snapped out of her thoughts and met Oyuki’s eyes, “Don’t move around,” Atsu scolded her, and Oyuki turned her head back around. “I’m staring at your wounds because I’m treating them,” She insisted sternly and reached for the needle and thread. Oyuki sighed softly, but Atsu could tell she was smiling at her nonetheless.
She started at the gash on her shoulder. Atsu set one of her hands on Oyuki’s warm skin to steady herself, beneath her palm she could feel a small scar healed by time. Slowly, Atsu pierced through Oyuki’s skin with the needle. “What changed?” Oyuki asked, and Atsu paused her work for a moment. What changed? Atsu thought over the question, and an immediate answer came to mind. Yet, the answer was one that she didn’t want to say.
“Nothing did, I just…” Atsu trailed off. The thought ‘I didn’t want to kill you’ crossed her mind, but the thought itself felt like betrayal to her family. This was an accomplice to her family’s slaughter, yet she was showing her mercy?—Forgiveness, even. In the depths of her heart, she still felt an ugly resentment for her. How could she do this? Atsu asked herself.
The ‘she’ being Oyuki, for what she’d done to her family. Or maybe it was herself, for considering genuine mercy in the face of the Kitsune. But this wasn’t consideration anymore, she had really spared the Kitsune—spared Oyuki. She could understand Oyuki’s position, and she could see that she truly wanted to change her ways. Then again, Atsu just didn’t want to admit that she had begrudgingly grown accustomed to the woman’s company, maybe not yet.
Instead, she managed out, “I figured you’d be more useful alive.” Oyuki hummed, and Atsu hoped that Oyuki couldn’t tell what she was really thinking. At that moment, Atsu was really glad that she was sitting behind Oyuki—that Oyuki couldn’t see her face. “Is that so?” the older woman asked with a playful tone, she was making fun of her. Atsu ran her fingers over her finished work on Oyuki’s shoulder, she didn’t know why she did that.
“Show me your forearm,” Atsu ordered next, she could see Oyuki tense for a moment, “I can deal with the rest of my wounds, Atsu.” Atsu wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily, “I did this to you, that makes it my responsibility.” Atsu stood up and sat in front of Oyuki. Their eyes met each other, though Oyuki was just a bit more reluctant. She huffed with a relinquishing smile and rolled up her other sleeve, Oyuki seemed to read the seriousness in Atsu’s eyes.
The blood had just begun to crust over the cut. Atsu couldn’t help her wandering eyes. Not too far from the cut, she spotted a pair of swirling twin wolves, scarred into Oyuki’s arm. Atsu pulled Oyuki’s arm just a bit closer to see it. “…It has long healed by now, Atsu,” Oyuki said reassuringly, Atsu remained silent, she wasn’t the one who needed the reassurance.
Good, Atsu first thought, then regretted it. Shamefully, part of her felt glad it happened—felt that it was deserved for allowing her family to be slaughtered. Atsu needed to snap out of it. She thought that by beginning to forgive Oyuki, she would stop thinking such things, but she was wrong. In exchange for a chance at survival, her father’s tsuba was branded into Oyuki’s skin.
She couldn’t imagine having to force herself to stay silent in the face of a punishment like this. Especially since she was around the other members of the Yotei Six. In feudal Japan, women were strongly looked down upon. As a woman, if Oyuki was discovered to have been the Kitsune, the other members would have done much worse than what Saito did that night.
Atsu wondered if her sword was what gave away who she was back at the Red Crane Inn, specifically her father’s tsuba. Atsu imagined that after years of being stuck with such a memorable scar like that, it would make sense if it was what gave Atsu away.
Oyuki was strong, Atsu had been sure of that for a long time now.
Atsu ran the pad of her thumb along the mark, it was almost indented within her skin, but it wasn’t incredibly prominent. When she realized what she was doing, she snapped out of it and looked back up to meet Oyuki’s eyes. She was just barely illuminated by the sunlight coming from the windows of the house.
Atsu saw that Oyuki’s eyes were just barely widened, she had an expression that Atsu was unsure over how to describe, and her peachy lips were just barely parted. Was it because this day would mark the first time that Oyuki had ever let anyone see the branding, or was it something else? Atsu didn’t know.
Even to this day, she still wasn’t sure why she did that. Atsu’s body seemed to move on its own, before her mind could process it. Oyuki had changed something in her, but she just didn’t know what. “I…I’ll patch up your arm now,” Atsu quickly refocused on the cut, her brows furrowed together in a sense of, confusion? She wasn’t sure. She hoped Oyuki hadn’t been unsettled by her actions.
Now that she sat directly in front of Oyuki, Atsu suddenly felt much more vulnerable. The two women sat like that for a while, they were enveloped in—what Atsu felt was—an awkward silence. Atsu worked quickly, Oyuki had taken many small cuts to her arms from the fight. Most of them only needed to be cleaned and bandaged, as they had scabbed over in the time that it took to stitch up her other wounds.
Atsu finished cleaning off Oyuki’s last wound and hurriedly stood up. She wanted to leave quickly and collect her conflicting thoughts. “I have something to take care of, stay here,” Atsu said quickly as a little pit formed in the depths of her stomach. She went for the door, only to be stopped by Oyuki’s stern voice and a strong hand around her wrist.
“Atsu,” The playful tone that she once had was no more, it sent the smallest chill down Atsu’s spine. She wondered if Oyuki’s hand could feel the change in her wrist’s pulse. Atsu turned her head to Oyuki, who was still sitting on the floor.
“You’re still bleeding.”
Atsu nearly forgot she had her own wounds too, she couldn’t even feel them.
“I can take care of my own wounds.” Atsu tried to argue, “I caused those wounds, Atsu, that makes you my responsibility, is that not what you said?” Oyuki restated with a small laugh, her tone now as smug as ever. Atsu grumbled to herself for what she had said and returned to the floor with Oyuki.
“…Make it quick, then,” Atsu told her. “Always in a rush, is your business more important than your own life?” Oyuki asked her as she suddenly grabbed hold of Atsu’s chin, there was a deep cut on her cheek. Atsu gulped softly, she wondered if Oyuki had seen that, and she hoped she hadn’t. “That won’t kill me,” Atsu said flatly, she wanted to seem casual. Oyuki gave Atsu a smile as if she knew that was what she would say.
“Stay still, and relax your shoulders,” Oyuki ordered, and Atsu relaxed her shoulders. She didn’t realize how tense she had been. Oyuki grabbed some bandages and scooted close enough so that their knees grazed. Atsu directed her attention and her eyes away from Oyuki, but it was no use. Oyuki's touch was tender and light as she dealt with Atsu’s wounds.
Oyuki’s brown eyes were focused on her cheek wound and her brows were just barely creased from her concentration, and she could see just how long Oyuki’s lashes were. Atsu didn’t know when she had begun staring so intently at Oyuki, but she was sure that the other woman could feel it.
Atsu noticed that she often found herself lost in thought around Oyuki. Even in their very first meeting at the Red Crane Inn, Oyuki’s music entranced her with its warmth and understanding. Hearing music like that was rare nowadays, it almost made Atsu forget. That made Oyuki dangerous, no—Oyuki was always dangerous.
“Show me that shoulder of yours,” Oyuki ordered next, and Atsu woke from her thoughts once again. She slipped off part of her infamous yellow kimono so that Oyuki would continue working. Oyuki’s kusarigama had hooked into her shoulder pretty badly, Atsu remembered it well, she was feeling it now. Oyuki’s warm fingers pushed down around her wound as she begun patching up the cut. It stung, but Atsu didn’t make a sound, it wasn’t that bad.
It was odd, this newfound tenderness. Both of them had exposed parts of themselves that they hadn’t ever shared with anyone else. Atsu found herself staring again, and only now did she realize how close Oyuki was sitting to her. She could almost make out the flowery scents in her hair.
Oyuki quickly finished stitching up Atsu’s wound and set the needle down. As if to examine her work—or possibly, Atsu herself—Oyuki’s fingers dared to roam. Her fingers made their way to the scar on her shoulder blade, Oyuki was going to ask something about it, and Atsu was going to answer. If only that weren’t the spot where Saito had pinned her to her family's Gingko tree. She had forgotten—like an idiot—and something in Atsu changed. Her hand was wrapped tightly, but not painfully, around Oyuki’s wrist.
“I need to go,”
“Atsu—“
She released Oyuki’s wrist and stood up quickly. Atsu couldn’t look Oyuki in the face. The pit in her stomach deepened and she was out the door before Oyuki could say anything more. Atsu slipped her katanas back into her belt as she made her way out of the graveyard. The morning chill in the wind hit her harder, as if to scold her. The list of names on her belt blew alongside the wind, the blood that crossed out the Kitsune was dry. She was halfway through the Yotei Six—yet, it didn’t feel like it.