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“We’re lost, aren’t we?”
Kenma carried on walking ahead, his white robe dragging along the ground. The robe was too big (once belonging to Kuroo during his I-want-to-be-a-saint days, before he trained to be a Halberdier) and it was frayed at the ends. The little patches of brown on the robe were annoying too, but Kenma learned to tolerate them.
“Depends on your definition of lost,” Kenma said. Right now he was too hot in his garbs and his tome books were heavy in his arms. The mighty Silver Sword was concealed in a sheath tied to his thigh. How his thigh hadn’t collapsed under its weight was a miracle, although Kuroo had said his thighs were strong. But alas, that was the life of a mercenary — even for a mere Bishop like him. If only he had decided to be a Berserker like Bokuto; at least he wouldn’t be wearing much clothing.
…On second thought, Kenma wasn’t really into walking around shirtless. (He also had little to no strength to pull off such a physical-oriented role, but that was beside the point.)
Akaashi — with his blue armour, shoulder pauldron, and large shield the definition of a Hero — gave a small sigh.
“Kozume-san,” he said, “do you know where we are?”
Kenma looked away from Akaashi, his white hood blocking him out. “The Purge tome shouldn’t be much further from here. It’s near the, uh, place near here.”
Akaashi narrowed his eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound very reliable.” Sighing again, Akaashi nodded towards a nearby village and said, “Come on, Kozume-san. Let’s go ask some villagers for directions. It’ll help us get there quicker.”
Kenma frowned, his pout slight. He ignored Akaashi’s suggestion and walked ahead.
Akaashi looked on at Kenma wearily. “Kozume-san. We’re lost. We need help. Let’s go to the village and—”
“No one’s entering OUR village!”
Immediately, the two mercenaries startled. They looked up to see who was behind the cry. Two boys — one wearing clothing similar to Akaashi’s pre-Hero days and the other topped head to toe in Archer gear — launched out of nowhere and ran towards them.
The ginger boy was fast, clearing the distance between them and the mercenaries swiftly. The other, a serious boy with black hair, remained further behind, lining up his arrow on the arrow rest and pulling back the bow string until the arrow released—
Akaashi’s eyes widened, one hand already gripping his Steel Sword before him whilst the other pushed Kenma behind him. “Kozume-san, I’ll guard, you—”
Before anything could be done, Kenma, whispering incoherent words that surely belonged to the Ancient Language, clutched his tome tight as he sent a large, circular beam of light towards the attackers. It was an impulsive move, and yet its precision was perfect: the vast amount of light and force was clearly not aimed directly at the boys, and yet it was enough to knock them out.
Akaashi sweat dropped. “Y-you just knocked them out…”
Kenma, panting quietly, closed the tome. “They were only defending their village from possible bandits.” Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he mumbled, “They weren’t bad people…”
Akaashi took a deep breath. Everything had happened so quickly. Kenma’s tome had been overwhelming this time, and he performed from such a distance. Normally his tomes required him to be within a few metres of his opponents, but, in this case, they hadn’t. Unless…
“You just used the rare Purge tome, didn’t you?”
Kenma immediately looked away from Akaashi. He gripped his tome tight.
Akaashi sighed. “Why have we travelled for the past few days to find a tome you already have? I just don’t understand, Kozume-san.” Inhaling deeply, Akaashi said, “Come on, we’ve got to go. Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san are alone; the guild will be in a state for no reason now.”
Sheathing his sword, Akaashi walked ahead. He was too tired for this.
“K-Keiji…”
As if he had been expecting this, Akaashi stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at Kenma. “Yes, Kozume-san?”
Kenma looked down at the ground. His face could not be seen, but his hands fidgeting with his robe could. “I’m… I’m sorry…” Looking up from his hood with a hopeless look, Kenma said, “I… just wanted to spend some time with you…”
His expression was rare, and it stung a little. Akaashi didn’t like it and he didn’t know how to deal with it. “...We always work together, Kozume-san. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Kenma turned his back on Akaashi. He fidgeted with his robe for a good few seconds until he turned back around again and approached him nervously. There, in his hands, was a beautiful weapon. It was a Silver Sword, but it looked as if it had been forged. The handle remained gold whilst a cool blue colour embellished the sword itself. It was sure to enhance a wielder’s strength and skill.
Akaashi’s eyes widened. How was Kenma able to afford that? The weapon cost at least eight thousand coins, and on top of being forged? That would be another eight thousand coins and a crystal…
Head turned to his side, Kenma held the sheathed sword on its back and presented it to Akaashi. “You’ve seemed concerned recently about your strength, and so I thought this might help you out a bit…”
A quiet gasp left Akaashi’s lips. “Kenma… You didn’t need to do any of this…”
“I know,” Kenma said, “but I wanted to.”
Akaashi took a deep breath. He understood.
Pushing the strands of Kenma’s hair back, Akaashi gently kissed his forehead. “Is… that okay?” he asked. Kenma’s cheeks immediately flushed and he awkwardly looked away. However, he gave a small nod of his head.
Akaashi smiled warmly. “Okay.” He then embraced Kenma, whispering, “Thank you, Kenma.”
Pulling away, Akaashi noticed Kenma’s enhanced blush. His smile grew and his eyes crinkled.
“Let’s go home,” Akaashi said, offering Kenma his pinky finger. Kenma nodded his head and linked his pinky with Akaashi’s.
They weren’t lost anymore.