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"Who will hold you through your grief?"
Another revolution failed. Countless men died. Yet again, Yudai was left standing alone in the desert among the sea of bodies.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be a peaceful talk between the leaders, to reconcile the longstanding differences between the two nations. War was a tiring affair, and everyone involved was exhausted. Yudai and Fuma noticed that too, and despite their contrasting views of their respective nations, they agreed to hold a peaceful dialogue in the command tent while they were still in middle of the war. With the leaders situated at the table while three high-ranking soldiers from each side stood behind them, the talk went well eventually. It went a bit too well considering this war began since the birth of their forefathers, as the two leaders stood to shake hands after forming a consensus with the terms that were discussed for hours.
That peace was short-lived, however, as Fuma was stabbed in the back by his soldier. The betrayer was killed immediately and chaos ensued following Fuma's sudden death, as everyone drew their swords and clashed with whoever was in sight. Yudai froze a second too long, and if it wasn't for Jo guarding him with his sword, Yudai might have lost his head by now.
"Koga-san!" Jo turned his head to check in on Yudai, only to face his front again to block the attack when he sensed another man charging towards him.
Yudai snapped out of his daze as he reached for his weapon shortly after, fighting alongside his men who vowed to protect him and the nation. Blade caught blade inside the tight tent, and the struggle surged outward, tearing down the tent flaps and dragging the chaos into the open compound. All hell broke loose as the battalions of each nation joined the battle — legs no longer standing still with bated breath to wait for the peaceful outcome that never came.
Seeing corpses under your feet should be a bizarre experience for any individual. The same couldn't be said for Yudai who felt like a monster for leading his people to their graves once again — too numb to even feel the pain from his gashed abdomen. Dozens of blades were rooted deep inside the bodies, vibrating slightly when the wind caught them. As the surviving members from both sides retreated for the day, Yudai continued to stare at the distance, watching the sun sink like the weight on his shoulders. The disappearing light cast long shadows across the battlefield, shrouding the battered wreckage and fallen soldiers with an ominous gloom.
"Koga-san."
Jo tentatively approached the man, though Yudai remained motionless with his eyes hollowed out by the slaughter. As the last two men left in that torn battlefield, Jo dared to hold Yudai, even though embracing the latter might shatter the fragile sanity that Yudai was gripping so desperately. Maybe that would be for the better; perhaps only by breaking completely could Yudai finally release the years of grief he had never been allowed to cry out. Jo had spent far too long watching Yudai suffer in that silent, suffocating condition.
"Koga-san." Forehead resting against his shoulder, Jo uttered. "I'm right here, Koga-san."
Yudai finally let out a dry chuckle, allowing a little reprieve from the touch. Slowly, Yudai removed himself from the embrace, both hands resting on his fiercest loyalist instead.
"I'm not dead, Jo." Chuckling again, Yudai raised his thumb to smooth the frown lines on Jo's forehead. "Even if I die, you should smile instead. At least I can imagine an angel pardoning me for the many sins I've committed."
Jo remained unresponsive to the older man's dark humour. Yudai then brought his hand lower to wipe the dirt away from Jo's cheek, before he turned to walk back to their base.
"Let's go back for now. We need to get you cleaned before tomorrow comes."
The blood leaking from Yudai's abdomen continued to wet the trail back.
The night did little to soothe the sombre atmosphere at the base, as the handful of soldiers ate their dinner listlessly around the campfire. When Jo returned to his quarters, Yudai was on the final steps of wrapping the wound around his abdomen, sitting awkwardly at the edge of the cot as he stifled his groans behind heavy breaths. Noting another presence in the room, the heavy breathing was replaced with small, controlled breaths before Yudai shifted to face the entrance.
"Off to sleep already?"
Jo nodded as he walked to his cot next to Yudai's. He was thankful for this arrangement, because seeing the empty cots of other high-ranking officials in between would be a painful reminder that they'd never return. The two men lay on their respective cots as the night went by, though it took them a while for sleep to take over.
"Jo?" The said man hummed in response.
"I was just thinking," Yudai spoke into the dark, his tone deliberately casual to mask his exhaustion. "We've been through hell and back together. Are you ever going to call me Yudai-san? Or are you planning to stick to Koga-san until we're both in the ground?"
It wasn't the first time Yudai asked him this question. In fact, Yudai was strangely obsessed with how Jo addressed him, especially when it's the two of them alone in the room.
"Rank dictates protocol, Koga-san," Jo replied softly, eyes fixated at the ceiling above. "You are the commander. It wouldn't do for the men to see your right-hand man slipping into casual habits."
A low, breathy scoff cut through the dark next to his cot.
"Protocol," Yudai murmured, his voice laced with faint mockery. "There isn't a soul within three miles of this room, Jo. The only audience we have tonight are the ghosts outside, and I don't think they care about military decorum."
Jo shifted uncomfortably, the canvas of his bed creaking in the silence. He didn't answer.
"You use that badge like a shield," Yudai continued, turning his head on his pillow to face Jo's silhouette. "Is 'Yudai-san' really that heavy a name to say? Sometimes I wonder if our many years of service together mean anything to you."
The words hit Jo like a physical blow. It was heavy precisely because of the sheer weight of the love attached to his name. It meant everything to him — so much that it terrified him.
Afraid that the sudden hammering of his heart would betray him, Jo rolled onto his side to turn his back to the commander. He pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders, using the fabric to build a wall of his own.
"It's late, Koga-san," Jo whispered into the dark, intentionally using the formal title one last time to end the conversation. "We have a long march tomorrow. Go to sleep."
Across the gap, Yudai didn't push further. He just stared at Jo's back, letting out a sigh that felt heavier than the desert air.
"Koga-san!"
The morning march brought no reprieve, only a brutal ambush that scattered their remaining lines. Jo witnessed his leader's body surrendering to gravity, after Yudai — sluggish from the blood-soaked bandages hidden beneath his uniform — failed to block his chest from the enemy's slash. Blood rushing to his head, Jo struck the soldier in a flash before surveying the environment, ensuring there were no more soldiers approaching to attack him as he fell to his knees next to Yudai.
Yudai's shaky irises struggled to focus on the view in front of him, though he recognised the familiar form of his right-hand man. The rigid lieutenant had completely vanished, leaving only a desperate boy trying to hold a dying man together.
"Yudai-san, you once joked that this could be your last moments." Jo choked on his words. "So you'd tell me to smile even if it pained me to see you die over and over again."
Yudai weakly grinned.
"Who would've thought I get to hear Yudai-san from your lips willingly? And all it took was for me to be near my deathbed."
Yudai and his grim jokes again. As a solitary drop escaped Jo's glassy eyes, both of his hands tenderly enveloped Yudai's trembling hand that was reaching for his tear, before Jo leaned his cheek into the receding warmth of the palm.
"I'm sorry, Yudai-san." Sniffling, Jo closed his eyes in an attempt to stop more tears from escaping. "I don't think I can fulfil your wish to smile right now."
"Come closer."
Yudai whispered, conserving every last bit of his remaining life force, though he lifted his other hand to cup both of Jo's cheeks to guide his tender visage closer to Yudai — foreheads resting against each other when Jo allowed himself to be led. For the first time, Yudai wasn't running from his ghosts. He looked up at Jo with a clarity that terrified the younger man.
"I'm sorry you have to live your youth with a foolish man like me." Yudai paused.
"Maybe in another life, when we're truly equals, I could've held your hand in the open field of flowers without the weight of our uniforms. I would've spent every day showing the world who my heart belonged to, Jo."
"And maybe," Yudai continued, "you would've been more honest with your feelings about me."
The war was finally over, but the desert sea of corpses remained, stretching out under the uncaring sky. In the centre of the massacre, Jo stood before the modest gravestone he had erected and carved with his own hands. Next to it, Yudai’s sword was driven deep into the earth — hardened by the bloodshed from just a few days ago. While it stood like a lone sentinel guarding the dead, the blade also carried the weight of Jo's entire military life. It was the very weapon Yudai had used to personally knight Jo, making him the lieutenant.
His lieutenant.
The title now bore no meaning to Jo — there were no commanders left to obey, no rank left to dictate protocol. The badge he had shielded himself behind so fiercely now felt entirely weightless in his grasp. All that remained was a sinking feeling in his chest, a curse rooted deep in his heart for his own failure to convey his feelings, even in Yudai's final moments. As Jo continued to stare at the gravestone, the very question he had once held for Yudai now belonged to him alone to ponder.
"Who will hold you through your grief?"