Work Text:
Light filtered in through the room you slept in. Dark wood covered the walls, worn and splintered in places that if you were to touch it, you'd certainly need a pair of tweezers. But if was safe enough, providing a place to rest. A place to find and gather your bearings before you did much of anything else.
Asirpa dreamed of him.
The separation alone had been difficult, with the understanding that Sugimoto may truly be gone. A bullet to the brain was most definitely a death sentence, for most people. It was something that you were fighting hard to believe—that this man, the one you cared for most, was as dead as the bodies back at the prison. So much death and it had taken Sugimoto, too. Not that you shared this with any of the others. Confessing your fears was admitting that they were right, and you weren't prepared to do that.
Asirpa had already slapped Shiraishi upside the head after he took her hand in his during her dream. She found comfort against your body quite quickly, listening to the others whisper in the very next room. There was so much to do, so much to get done, and yet she wanted the comfort of someone she knew she could trust. If any of them, she knew she could trust you. She saw how Sugimoto cared for you, how he cared for you nearly as much as he cared for her. You, of course, were a very capable adult and you did not need anyone, but she saw it. She knew it.
"It wasn't the kamuy," she whispered to you, hoping you were awake as she curled up beside of you. "It was him."
Shiraishi muttered something about how he had a hard time imagining Sugimoto as dead, to which Asirpa immediately replied.
"He's Immortal Sugimoto," Asirpa insisted, peering up at you in hopes you had the same belief, the same premonition. Your eyes met hers, a sure sign that you had been awake and she wasn't just talking to the freak who had been holding her hand. "He's not dead."
You released a shaky sigh, leaning against your hand as you looked down at the Ainu girl. You hadn't the heart to tell her that most people didn't come back from something like that. She knew it. You all knew it.
Ogata's voice came from the other room, but you couldn't make out the conversation. Perhaps it was for the best. He was a difficult man to read, clinging to the shroud of invisibility and inconsistency that was very much Ogata Hyakunosuke.
"He's immortal," Asirpa continued, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. "It was him in my dream. Not the kamuy. He said he'll find me."
A small smile graced your lips. "I hope he does," you conceded, gently patting her shoulder. The girl's face scrunched in that all-too-familiar way, the way she did when she knew you didn't truly believe her.
"I mean it," Asirpa said. She pushed herself to sit up, looking down at you with serious blue eyes and a bout of confidence that often had its claws in the girl she was. "He said he has a lot to tell me. A lot to tell us."
"Us," you repeated, echoing the sentiment. It was nice to hear, though you had a hard time believing it. "I'm sure he does."
The girl huffed softly in response, crossing her arms over her chest.
Shiraishi had started to get up, inching closer to the door of the other room. What he expected, neither of you knew.
Dreams did not always find you, but when they did, you knew it. You wished you could have dreamed of Sugimoto, of the man your heart yearned for, but you were glad he found Asirpa if any of you. She needed it more, her hopeful heart filled to the brim with the need for Sugimoto to be alive. There was no way for you to comfort the girl—if he was dead, you'd have a hell of a harder time coming to terms with it. Asirpa had gotten far too close to the immortal man. What were you supposed to do, let her wallow in her pity?
No. The gold was still out there. Asirpa was the only one who knew, the only one who had any idea even if she hadn't realized it yet. Many would be after her just to see if they could get a foot in the door, a foot in the right direction. There was no way for her to be safe anymore. That, and the death of her father was enough to shake her to her core—the supposed death of Sugimoto had nearly broken her.
Asirpa rubbed her eyes with her fists balled tightly. She forced herself to her feet, walking toward the other room.
"Asirpa," you quickly blurted, sitting up as you watched her go. When she looked back at you, you spoke: "If you dream of him again... tell him to dream of me, too."
She smiled, a soft, understanding blush glowing on her young face. "I will," she reassured, "though I'm surprised he hasn't already done so."
You appreciated her words though you knew better. Sugimoto had one goal, and one goal only—help Asirpa get the gold and find his best friend's widow. You were a footnote in his story, a bystander who helped when you could and tended to the girl in your care to the best of your ability.
Your wish for a dream of Sugimoto just about died with the pity you felt for the girl, preparing for another day of making the most of what you were given. Perhaps the kamuy would have pity on your small bunch of vagabonds. If any of them, at least Asirpa.
As you prepared to follow after Asirpa, gathering all your belongings you had had with you, you did not know what to expect. You did not know that Sugimoto was on a mission, to return to the both of you. The bullet had most definitely caused some damage, and he now wore a brace to help him walk, but his battered body yearned for home.
Home. Wherever you and Asirpa found yourselves to be. He'd do anything to get back to you. Anything.
He hoped dream a little dream of you, or of Asirpa again, if only to see, to know.
You, in turn, said a prayer under your breath. "Please dream a little dream of me." The fear you felt was unmistakable, but you fought past it. You could not fight it any longer.
If he was as immortal as he claimed to be, you would find out soon enough. You just hoped it was sooner rather than later.