Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s over in less than a couple of seconds.

Mizu doesn’t kneel like the rest of the people on the bridge and she doesn’t bother hiding her blatant staring either. The moment is barely a sliver of a breath but Mizu thinks that it might’ve lasted longer because she feels her lungs ache for air afterwards. The imperial carriage floats by and the princess inside makes eye contact with Mizu but it ends as soon as it begins. Only enough time for the outline of golden butterflies and red lips to leave an imprint in Mizu’s mind.

She continues onto the Shindo Dojo without so much as a second thought to the beautiful woman.

—

Mizu was used to the constant aches and pains her body tormented her with, so the deep burning sensation in her left shoulder that started to fester into a fever didn’t bother her all that much. She figured that the cold of the falling snow would give her some relief on her way out of Kyoto anyway. Luckily, a lonely lake came into view on her trek back from the Shindo Dojo. After all, an ice-cold dip could do wonders for Mizu’s injured body right about now. She’d already left Kyoto a while ago and was now wandering the edges of the forest, far enough away from civilization but not deep enough to awaken any wildlife this late at night.

Checking her surroundings one last time before stripping, Mizu released the scarf around her neck and let the indigo kimono-turned-cape fall to the ground. She never was the type to tidy up after herself unless it was to make Swordfather’s life easier, so a tiny mound of messy, unfolded clothes slowly accumulated at the edge of the lake.

The wind howled in the distance and brushed Mizu’s now-released hair against her bare shoulders, sending shivers down her skin. She was used to the cold. Had gotten familiar with the way her body would shake without stopping to make enough heat to last another winter night out on the streets. However, the cold was made more harsh with the sweltering heat she could start to feel lingering in her bones. Mizu clenched her fists and took a deep breath. She’d been stabbed before after all, it shouldn’t be this big of a deal.

Maybe it was the fact that she had met someone from her past for the first time. It always seemed like once she left Kohama, all of the memories and people within them would cease to exist. A child’s logic, she knows, but one Mizu hoped would’ve held true a bit longer. Now she’s dealing with the consequences of believing such a dream, if Taigen’s fever-inducing stab was anything to go by.

He was good with a sword, this Mizu could admit. Not as good or great as her by any means, but enough to cause harm. Mizu supposes she could’ve killed him if she really wanted. Maybe even cut off his chignon and leave him with dishonor for the rest of his life. But it felt a little more personal than she would’ve liked. Mizu always knew the power of emotion and feelings, so it wasn’t always in her best interest to follow her desires. In this at least, she could leave it be. It wasn’t any of her business and she got the information she needed anyway.

Mizu just dreaded dealing with the dirty laundry. The fabric of her shirt had stained crimson and she knew she’d have to put in some extra strength to get it out. Maybe she’d let it dry over instead, give her enemies at least a little warning.

Before she could think about it any further, she steeled herself and slipped into the water.

Instantly, her muscles relaxed and her body felt weightless. She was reminded of how nice it was to be in the water, regardless of the temperature. Almost like she could disappear into the depths of the deep and forget the world above. It wasn’t a coincidence, she supposes, that she was named the way she was.

After taking a longer than usual time just floating and watching the water push up against the rocks at the edges, Mizu threaded a needle and got to work. Truth be told, it was always hard to see the gush of blood spilling out of her wounds like this. It was at these times that Mizu realized how human she truly was. Regardless of the slurs and onryo callings, here was proof after all that she could die just like everyone else. Shame that no one would ever get to see it so blatantly with how guarded she was. For the best, she thinks, but lingers on the pain the stitching brings.

Maybe it’d be easier if her mother was still alive..

Mizu bites the end of the white thread a little too short and pulls the stitches so that it bleeds again at the edges.

“Urgh” She scolds herself for thinking with too much hope and too late at night. She thought she’d gotten over all the soft and gooey feelings she had. She guesses Taigen was pretty good at bringing up all of her past and not just the ones she left in Kohama. After readjusting the stitches and making sure no more bleeding could occur, she finally emerges from the lake.

What awaits her, however, is not an empty shore, but instead the large man she met a town over.

The instinct to be safe overtook any panic she held about being naked. Her feet sting against the soft snow as she gets into position and her hair feels unusually heavy against her shoulders as the man is startled.

“Peaches!” He says, staring at Mizu’s chest wide-eyed and stricken.

Mizu sighs, letting her guard down after realizing how little a threat the man poses. Her sword, however, remains at the man’s neck. What was his name again? Something about fruit..

“What are you doing here.” Mizu growls, standing tall despite being significantly shorter than the man, “Speak!” she commands after the man says nothing.

“I lost track of you and wanted to make sure I didn’t lose you! I followed you here.”

“How long?” Mizu seethes, anger beginning to boil alongside her fever.

“Not long! I just arrived, and if you’re worried, I promise I won’t tell anyone you’re a gir-”

Mizu slashes the hat the man has on. It falls to the ground with a dull sound and Mizu scowls.

“You are as good as dead if I so wanted.” Mizu can feel her hair dripping onto the snow and her heels are numb from the cold, she frowns, “Promises mean nothing to me.”

The man doesn’t seem perturbed, a frown forming on his own face, “I can be your apprentice.”

Mizu forces herself to not roll her eyes, not this again.

“I know you’re injured and that you have a fever from the way your forehead is steaming.” He looks assured with his own words, confident even, “I also covered the blood splatter you left on your way here. It’s the reason I found you so easily.”

Mizu glares at him. She didn’t think the fever was messing with her head that much. It must be a lot worse than she initially thought.

After a few more tense seconds, Mizu lowers her sword and stands upright, sheathing her sword and turning away from the man.

“Your name.” She gets dressed while the man scrambles to start collecting firewood for an impromptu camp.

“I’m Ringo! Your new apprentice.” Mizu can hear the smile Ringo undoubtedly has on his face, she doesn’t want to second-guess her decision, because wouldn’t she be in a worse situation by now otherwise?

Regardless, she’s dressed and dry by the time Ringo is tending to a fire and making some sort of tea.

“Medicine. To help your fever. It must’ve gotten infected after bleeding so long out in the cold.” He hands her the cup when it’s done and doesn’t look at Mizu any differently even though she is not a swordsman like he originally thought. She takes sips of the hot medicine and forces herself not to gag when she’s met with a bitter taste, “Blazei mushrooms to help heal faster. Not the best-tasting though.” He assures, sending a sheepish smile her way.

“Mn.” Mizu finishes the rest of the tea in her next sip and places the teacup on the ground with a new resolve, “Ringo, why did you follow me?”

“To become your apprentice!”

“Don’t you have a family? A future that isn’t spent being my apprentice?” Mizu hopes that’ll do the trick and somehow bring Ringo back to his senses.

“I have no family. My father doesn’t care that I’m gone, only that he no longer has someone to help him serve noodles.” Ringo frowns down at the fire, the light casting shadows on his face. Mizu can feel the anger he holds and doesn’t look away when he meets her eyes, “Master, if you’ll allow me, I want to follow you. I want to become a samurai too.”

Mizu isn’t sure what to make of Ringo, but one thing is certain: the fever is starting to break. Slowly, her thoughts become clearer than they were when she started the trek out of Kyoto and she huffs at the realization that she’ll entertain Ringo, if even just for the night.

“Even if you do want to become a samurai, I am not the teaching type.” Mizu doesn’t mean to say that. Instead, she should’ve said that Ringo isn’t welcome on this journey of revenge she’s set out for herself. Or that the path ahead is one only of blood and murder. Most likely it will end in her own death if she doesn’t reach the goals she’s set out for herself.

Ringo counters easily, unperturbed by the lame excuse, “Then I can observe! Even just being in your presence can help.”

Mizu stares at Ringo across the fire, looking for any signs of sarcasm or malice. She’s rarely ever gotten compliments that weren’t backhanded or a clever jab to her appearance. Surprised that she finds nothing there, she sighs around the cold air.

“You can stay the night. In the morning, I plan on leaving to Mihonoseki. You can decide then if you want to truly be my apprentice.”

Ringo nods enthusiastically and starts to bow but is stopped by the hilt of Mizu’s sword.

“No need for all the master stuff either. It’s too much.”

“Not at all! How else will people know that I follow such a great master?”

Mizu doesn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes this time, completely annoyed with the man. She wonders why she allowed herself this when she’s been alone for so long. Whatever the reason may be, she accepts the bowl of noodles Ringo makes and drifts off to sleep after she can no longer feel the overwhelming heat simmering under her skin.

She dreams of red and gold and black in a swirl of colors that don’t smear but instead sparkle and glimmer like lacquer against the sunlight.

–

The fever is gone when Mizu wakes the next morning. She’s surprised to find the fire still burning with a pot simmering on top of the firewood. She groans as she pulls herself up into a sitting position. Her left shoulder still screams at any movement, but the pain is familiar like a tongue smoothing over bleeding gums after losing teeth. It’s almost tender with the pain but like a warm memory all the same.

“You’re up! Just in time, the soup is finished.”

Mizu is surprised by the hunger she feels in her belly at the sight and smell before her. There’s a white broth bubbling on the fire with some more medicinal herbs being brewed alongside it. It’s been a while since she’s had a night where she’s slept the whole way through and to be greeted by food in the morning too. It makes her stitches ache.

Instead of thanking Ringo, she stands and heads to the lake to wash up. Before she comes back, she collects her curled bangs and sets it behind her right ear, moving it from her face completely. She looks at her reflection for a moment and decides she’ll make Ringo leave today. He’s much too good for the work she’s got planned.

They eat breakfast together and Mizu gulps the tea down in one fell swoop again. Her throat working against the acrid mushrooms. The sun is starting to rise above the treeline and Mizu realizes that she’s lost quite a bit of daylight already. Usually, she’d be walking through the woods at a neck-breaking pace just to get to her destination a day or two quicker.

“I am going to the Mihonoseki to find who I seek.” Mizu adjusts her eyes around the orange hue of the glasses and fixes her wide-brimmed hat around her head, “You are…welcome to come if you do not slow me down.”

Ringo is already packed by the time Mizu finishes her sentence and looks at her with utter glee. It makes Mizu feel guilty despite knowing that she owes him absolutely nothing.

“Let’s go, master!”

And so, they set off.

They don’t make it far before they’re met with considerable resistance on the road that connects Kyoto to the Mihonoseki they have in mind. Imperial guards with gaudy red cloth and black steeled armor stand in their path holding a scroll with a painting that looks exactly like Mizu. Written below the drawing in complex kanji that Mizu herself cannot read, is a mess of lines that end with large numbers and many zeros. Mizu assumes the worst and stands in front of Ringo, sword drawn.

“The lord requires your presence.” A guard says, the horse he rides neighing and snorting below him at the violent response from Mizu.

Mizu doesn’t bless them with a response. Rather, she stays silent and gets into a new position, her sword lying behind her like a bird’s tail feather, glimmering through the tree-speckled sunshine.

“And if I do not go?”

The sound of swords unsheathing upends the birdsong and snow-crunched footsteps from nearby travelers. It’s an obvious response to the question Mizu is asking, and yet, she still grips the hilt of her sword harshly.

It’s not ideal to be fighting with such an injury on her shoulder, but things were never going to be easy on this path. Maybe she should have let the medicine kick in a little longer and avoided this entire shakedown. No use thinking of the should-have’s now though. Mizu breathes through the pain she feels on her stitches and instead surveys the area.

The path is wide due to how frequent the travelers to Kyoto are. There’s snowdrift on either side of the road which makes it difficult for Mizu to simply tell Ringo to run. Looks like she’ll have to protect them both then.

“Master..” Ringo says, placing a cooking knife into the straps around his stumps.

“Not planned, but this’ll be your first lesson I suppose.”

And then just like the moment on the bridge, Mizu attacks.

There’s a big enough group of men that it makes things not easy at first. Factoring in the horses, it’s even harder for Mizu to swing as deftly as she would through normal human flesh and muscle. Thankfully, the only real trouble starts when she’s slashed through four of the five guards, the last one stepping over his colleagues and cursing Mizu for the trouble she’s caused.

“You wouldn’t have to fight this hard had it not been for his lord's request to keep you alive.” The guard says. He’s older and the scruff lining his face brings back jolts of pain through Mizu.

It’s safe to say that the stitches are no longer holding anything together. In fact, a couple of swings into the fight, Mizu grunted through the feeling of each thread snapping and opening up the torn flesh yet again. She’s dizzy from the pain but the adrenaline helps it feel like a dull thud instead of the sharp never-ending pain she knows she’ll feel afterwards.

It also doesn’t help that the tea is wearing off and the fever seems to be spreading quicker and with more vigor this time. The searing heat brings the burning memories of the past. Ladden with horses and a ranch far away, and a man not unlike the one in front of her now dressed in imperial guardsmen gear. It takes a couple of head shaking and blinking but the man slowly turns back into the guard’s original face.

“If your lord wants me alive, he’ll leave me be.”

“The entirety of Kyoto is looking for you. The mysterious swordsman who has taken down all of Shindo Dojo. The one who has bested Taigen.”

The name startles Mizu but she doesn’t let the information reveal anything about her inner thoughts. Instead, she charges, slipping under the guard’s sword and striking his heel. The guard yells out, stumbling. An opening presents itself and Mizu spins around, careful of the ice and snow beneath her feet. All at once, the guard is on his back, breathing heavily and staring down the tip of Mizu’s sword angrily.

“Kill me if you must, but know there are more guards on the way. You will not escape this.”

Mizu scowls, pressing the tip of her blade against his chin. A bead of blood joins his scruff and he winces.

“What is he seeking.” Mizu seethes, she can feel her breath slowing. She needs to finish this up before she fails to escape. Maybe finding shelter to pass out from the mounting pain she’s beginning to feel would be best too. She presses further and watches as more blood marks her sword.

“His daughter’s hand in marriage! A compatible husband!”

This catches Mizu completely off guard. She stumbles on the ice-slicked road and barely manages to catch herself in time before nearly impaling the man. When she focuses her eyes on his face again, the guard with the battered chin and red and black gear is no longer there, but instead, the man she tries not to remember is staring back at her. Dressed in green and burly like a bear, his eyes and face smiling widely and crazed.

She doesn’t hesitate when she slashes his neck. The blood sprays and soaks Mizu’s clothes in even more blood. Yet when she looks down at herself, all she sees is the white of a kimono soaked in the blood of her mother.

She turns and is quickly pulled down by the immeasurable force of gravity and boiling heat she feels in her veins. She doesn’t feel her face connect with the ground before she passes out. Thankfully into a sea of darkness similar to the one she feels the most comfort in under water.

She doesn’t dream and there are no golden butterflies that lead her to unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

When Mizu wakes, it’s to the feeling of cold stone digging into her back. It’s not the most uncomfortable that she’s felt, but when she tries to open her eyes she met with the pitch black of the night. She doesn’t realize that she’s in a cave until she feels the cool gust of an opening guiding her to it’s entrance.

There are spikes of pain spasming across her body, but without proper lighting its hard to find what the issue is and how to solve it. When she reaches the lip of the cave, she realizes that it actually is the dead of night, not just the darkness of the cave itself.

The opening is small, but wide enough for Mizu to slip through with little to no pain. She doesn’t remember anything past killing all of the guards, but if her red and swollen shoulder and lack of fever say anything, Ringo helped. Maybe he was useful after all, Mizu thinks belatedly.

She’s still got some brain fog but the starry night above her reminds her of her safety as of this moment. She’d always preferred to sleep underneath the small hole in the roof during the summers so that she could count the stars within the cracked edges of the roof. Swordfather never scolded her the next morning when she’d wake up with her hair damp after a morning shower passed by unexpectedly.

Mizu is lost in thought when she hears a sharp crack from the distance. Instinctually, her hand moves towards her hip, and is surprised to find her sword there. Ringo must’ve sheathed it and kept it by Mizu’s side throughout the entire ordeal. How Mizu didn’t notice it before isn’t as weird as her not realizing it wasn’t there to begin with. Her sword felt like an extension of herself in many ways, the weight and feel of it familiar and comforting.

Despite only just waking up, Mizu can feel some of her strength regaining. Maybe it’s the cool night air or the fact that she feels semi-rested after a pretty intense fight. Or perhaps it's the extra bandaging wrapping her shoulder and under her underarms, a salve thick and still wet sliding with each of her movements. It’s numbing and provides a sharp relief similar to the freezing lakes Mizu frequents.

Whichever it is, she hurries into the woods, the forest nightlife seemingly deep asleep as she crunches her way toward the sound. Her clothes are still on but disheveled like she’s been sleeping in them for hours. Her hat wasn’t anywhere near that she could feel for and her glasses must’ve been set aside to a place for safekeeping. Therefore, the world wasn’t cast into a shade of sunset as it usually was, and Mizu could see the forest in all it’s colorful albeit dark splendor.

She followed the thick trees that led to a clearing where Ringo stood, pushed up against the bark of a tree. The snow balancing on a tree branch above falling in soft droves that mimicked a snow flurry, covering Ringo’s head and shoulder.

“Tell me where he is”

Mizu shifted her sight towards the figure pinning Ringo down. The neat curve of his chonmage glowed in the moonlight and Mizu felt her scowl deepen.

“I won’t. You’ll have to kill me before I tell you.” Ringo muttered, looking into Taigen’s eyes fiercely despite having no standing in the current situation whatsoever.

Mizu only noticed the abandoned berries on the ground once she stepped out into the clearing from behind the trees. Ringo must’ve been gathering more herbs for the medicinal tea he’d been making for her when Taigen found him and started threatening him.

“Won’t be necessary. I’m right here.” Mizu locked onto Taigen’s broad shoulders and immediately started calculating how she could kill him as quickly and effortlessly as possible given her current state. She wasn’t exactly in the mood to test fate again with her shoulder.

“Master!”

Taigen dropped his hold on Ringo as he turned his full attention to Mizu.

The clearing was more like a field than anything. The distance that spread out between Mizu and Taigen was large and ominous. Like the opening of a creature’s mouth, hungry and empty. Mizu stood tall, not yet in any battling stance, hoping to end this with little to no actual swordplay. Meanwhile, Taigen stood in a defensive position, ready for any of Mizu’s tactics.

The situation was familiar, and Mizu grinned at the realization.

“Come back to get killed this time?” She still had yet to assume a stance, but walked closer to close the distance.

“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch.” Taigen gruffed, moving closer as well, scared to be caught off guard, “You’re lucky important people want you alive.”

Mizu’s memory before waking comes in droves then. The scene of her dead husband and her blood-stained kimono. More importantly, the scroll that had her exact likenings with a supposed call from the lord. She grinds her teeth together and glances over to Ringo who’s collecting the rest of the fallen berries and looks otherwise unharmed. She hopes he gets the memo and makes for the cave instead of trying to hang around. Who knows how this’ll play out, especially if Taigen has backup not too far from here.

“Shouldn’t you be studying more of your Shindo Ryu?” Mizu finally closes the majority of the distance and gets into a stance. She guesses her best mode of action is to give Ringo enough time to run and hide, which she can do. Her sword faces Taigen, downturned to reflect the moonlight into Tiagen’s eyes.

“Our last fight barely counted as a duel. I was blind drunk from celebrating my engagement.” Taigen begins to circle towards Mizu, the snow crunching below their feet as they make their way to one another.

“Congratulations.” Mizu jabs her sword’s tip out toward Taigen’s long sleeve. It cuts down the center and Taigen strikes back before Mizu can do any real damage. He parries and aims for Mizu’s knees but misses by mere seconds as Mizu hops back. They’re panting and circling each other again.

“I’m no longer engaged thanks to you!” Taigen yells, throwing his head back to get his bangs out of his face. He’s furious and the strands slipping out of his neat chignon contrast to the confident cocky man Mizu fought before, “You’ve embarrassed me and the Shindo Dojo. No lord wants his daughter to marry a weakling!”

Mizu hums, tilting her chin up and raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I should kill you to put you out of your misery then.”

Taigen growls and attacks again. This time with fervor and strength. Mizu blocks his attack but the snow makes her unsteady and her shoulder isn’t in the best shape. She stumbles under the weight of Taigen and his sword but pushes back so they’re staring each other down in between the X of their blades.

“I came here to capture you.” Taigen spits out, he readjusts his stance and pushes harder, sending Mizu a few steps back, “We will duel properly in the presence of the lord this time, and I will get Princess Akemi back.”

Mizu pushes back a final time before slipping away and ducking under Taigen’s arms. She kneels skids across the snow and now sprays outwards from her feet and leave a swipe of wet dirt and grass in her wake. She grabs at her shoulder to make sure she’s not bleeding through her shirt and feels relieved when it’s just the bulk of her bandaging. Her eyes snap back to Taigen who’s equally in a crouched position from the force of their blades, and she sneers.

“Your honor will lead you to an early death.”

“It is not honor, so much as love that I will die for,” Taigen responds, charging at Mizu again. He misses her injured shoulder but rips through the material there. It shows the bandaging beneath. Mizu strikes his neck, splashing blood onto the white of the fallen snow. It’s only a nick, and yet the blood flows like a river.

She supposes Taigen does have a heart after all this, seeing as how he hunted her down on his own to bring back his honor and therefore Princess Akemi’s hand in marriage. Mizu rolls her eyes at how dramatic he is and slices through the air once more toward an advancing Taigen.

They continue fighting, making a mess of the snowy field and turning it into a dirt-stained, bloody painting. Mizu isn’t fairing too well stamina-wise so she decides to end it quickly, having given enough time for Ringo to disappear into the woods where Mizu came from.

Quickly, Mizu zips through the field and slides through a patch of melted snow, completely dodging Taigen’s attempt swipe at her neck. With renewed vigor, she slashes through Taigen’s calves and watches as he fails to turn quickly enough, getting kicked down by Mizu’s foot instead.

Taigen’s unassuming stretch of back moves with each of his breaths and Mizu admires the similarity to the ocean’s current. Her blade slashes through the material of his clothes leaving a thin red line across the ridges of his spine up to the start of his shoulder blade. The blood doesn’t flow out of the wound. Instead, it beads out the edges like expensive crimson pearls befitting of royalty.

Taigen yelps as his face is smashed into the snow. His knees and palms red from the frost of the frozen-over ground and snow. The sound of Mizu’s blade cutting through the night air quiets the atmosphere and only their combined panting can be heard.

“You will die for love and honor, yet won’t fight back for either?” Mizu sheathed her sword, finally done with fighting for the night. She’s hoping the pain that is building in her shoulder is from the cold and adrenaline coursing through her veins instead of another reopened wound but she can’t be too sure.

“I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me to Kyoto,” Taigen mutters, spitting out blood and scowling up at Mizu, “Or until you agree to a proper duel.”

Mizu huffs, exasperated, “You’re wasting your time. I have nothing for you.”

“You have everything!” Taigen slaps Mizu’s foot away from his back, facing Mizu’s disinterested face and yelling out, “Why else would I be hunting you for days? The imperial guards would rather you die after the shit you pulled on their men.”

Mizu studied Taigen’s bloodshot eyes, his unraveling chignon, and sighed, “They deserved a fate worse than what I gave them.”

“You are a wanted man. You need an out to continue your quest of finding Heiji Shindo.” Taigen begins, shifting onto his thighs and assuming seiza all while keeping Mizu’s cold stare, “Let me give you that out.”

Despite the ache that Mizu felt throughout her body, she felt a quiet calm wash over her.

The cold midnight air illuminated at last how pathetic Taigen was. No amount of honor or duels won could ever give anyone such power most Samurai boasted of. Taigen was just another result of arrogant cocky men in positions of power.

“I don’t need any help.” Mizu turned and intended to leave the man there, unkempt and bloody. But before she could make it very far, Taigen yelled out frustratingly.

“There are guards posted throughout every part of the forest! Why do you think your apprentice is foraging? You’re trapped!”

Mizu slowed down, casting her gaze toward the forest surrounding them.

She isn’t dumb enough to believe Taigen so easily, but the warning sends a sliver of exhaustion through her. She isn’t nearly equipped enough to handle more guards, let alone a bratty samurai in search of his honor. Her pause serves as a sign for Taigen to continue, so he does.

“You’ll be alive by the time you’re brought back to the lord, but barely. Let me bring you back, they won’t lay their hands on you, I promise.”

Mizu scoffs, turning around toward Taigen and setting her sheathed sword against his chest, pushing until he falls back onto the ground.

“You’d be a fool to think I’d believe you.”

Taigen grunts and frowns at Mizu despite his position, “Fine! If a promise won’t do it, take this.” He unravels the patterned scarf around his neck and raises his hand out to Mizu, “It’s a gift from the princess. Keep it as my word.”

Mizu stands there for a moment considering the man in front of her.

“Why are you doing this.” She asks, frown deepening as she digs her heel into the dirt and presses her sheathed tip to Taigen’s throat.

“Ugh!” Taigen doesn’t relent, continuing to hold out his scarf to Mizu, “You’re so fucking dense huh?” He has the nerve to roll his eyes at her, as if he isn’t seconds away from being killed, “I’m in love with her.”

Mizu doesn’t stop the pressure against Taigen’s throat and instead looks into his eyes and is surprised to see no trace of lies. Maybe the boy Mizu had run away from really had disappeared, leaving something softer and more raw in its wake. She meets his gaze as she takes the peace offering and doesn’t blink until the fiery scarf is tight in her grip.

Taigen relaxes, sighing as Mizu takes away her sword from his throat.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult now was it.”

Taigen gets to his feet and is only just starting to stand when Mizu shoves the hilt of her sword into the back of his head, effectively knocking him out.

His body thumps against the snow and Mizu stares, unconcerned with the state of the man.

“You should’ve died for lust instead.”

—

After tying Taigen’s wrists up with her own white scarf, Mizu places the sunset-colored one on her neck as she runs back to the cave. She’s not sure where it’s located since she left in such a hurry, but thankfully the wind didn’t blow away any of her previous tracks.

“Master!” Ringo exclaims once Mizu crawls into the small space of the cave.

Now that she’s properly awake, she realizes just how small the cave is. It’s a miracle that Ringo managed to fit through, let alone carry an unconscious Mizu in too. She really needs to figure out what his deal is. No one does all this without a fee.

“Gather everything, we need to leave.”

Ringo is already packed by the time Mizu finds her hat and her glasses that were tucked into one of Ringo’s pots. They leave the tiny entrance and follow the thick of the forest opposite the clearing where Taigen’s unconscious body lays. Maybe it’s Mizu’s imagination, but she doesn’t hear Ringo behind her at all yet when she turns, he’s always there.

“Master, how is your shoulder?”

Mizu grunts, unconsciously checking her body and its movements as they hurry through the forest. Thankfully, the bandaging and thick salve prove to be working as there are no visible signs of blood soaking into her shirt.

“Fine. How long were we in that cave?”

“Not too long, only a couple of days. Your fever wouldn’t break and I needed more herbs to heal you. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Mizu shakes her head, she doesn’t need any niceties or apologies. Her main goal right now is to get to Mihonoseki as quickly as possible. It’s bad enough that she’s a wanted man in the biggest city in Japan, but now she’s lost days from her mishap with Taigen. She really should have just killed him, but the sincerity in his eyes as he confessed his feelings made her waver.

So much for getting rid of all the soft gooey parts of herself.

“We need to be careful, there are guards everywhere.”

Ringo hums an understanding, surprisingly agile and just as quick as Mizu as they weave through the trees.

As Mizu’s feet crunch through the snow, there isn’t a single thought within her mind of the current situation regarding the supposed proposal. Maybe it’s because her senses have finally come back after some days of rest, but she feels like the past few days have been a blur. A smear of red into the cloth of her clothes, washed out but still stained. The memory of her own white kimono doesn’t let her forget completely either.

She doesn’t remember too well the life of marriage outside of murdering the two people she thought she loved the most. Her nightmares remind her occasionally, but the prospect of marrying into royalty, nonetheless to a princess is laughable.

As if they can catch me, Mizu thinks.

She stops at a small path leading back to the main road where all the trouble started. The road will undoubtedly be overrun with more guards, so Mizu curses under her breath when she makes the decision to go the long way around. If not getting captured is the goal, this would be the correct choice. But as more and more time passes and the break of daylight starts illuminating their snow-laden path, Mizu is regretting everything.

She’d always been stubborn and hard-headed, as Swordfather would say whenever he smacked her head with his tools. It’s no wonder then that she ignores the voice in her head that warns of danger and instead cuts through the snowy path and back into the forest.

“Master?” Ringo had been surprisingly quiet throughout the journey thus far. Only humming when the stretches of silence lasted too long. Now though, he watches apprehensively as Mizu steps over large snow-crusted rocks with vigor.

“We’re cutting back to the main road. It will be the quickest route to the sea.”

“But the guards..”

“They stand no chance.”

And so Mizu lets the snow soak her feet and not offer any stops for food or setting up camp. These past few days have allowed her some well-needed rest, it was time to get to work.

—-

She’s stopped by four men by the time the sun has started peeking through the treetops. Each man’s face is covered in horrific masks and they fight like it’s their last time experiencing life. Mizu barely manages to kill them but not without the last man with a stupid nickname cutting deeply into her side. She grunts as the man topples over from her precisely thrown sword, only able to feel grateful that she sent Ringo off to gather supplies within the Kyoto borders before she succumbs to the blood loss.

༄༄༄༄

The palace floors squeak below Akemi’s feet. The winter temperatures makes it difficult for her to be completely warm, but her thick winter kimono falls heavy around her shoulders offering her some comfort. In such a lavish place, it’s hard to imagine anyone being uncomfortable, but she supposed her discomfort is one of an emotional sort.

Technically, she isn’t meant to be wandering the palace halls this late into the night, but her lack of a hand-held candle keeps her safe and hidden. The floors however, are another issue.

Akemi’s always been told how thin she is by her servants, and yet the old wooden floors overlooking the outer gardens say otherwise. She moves slower, hoping to make the sound prolong rather than disappear completely. She thinks it does the trick because she doesn’t run into any trouble when she makes it to the private quarters of her father’s side of the palace.

It’s been close to five days now since Taigen’s proposal was ripped to shreds. The emblem of the Shindo Dojo on the corner of the scroll mocking her father’s glare. Rumors of the crazed swordsman had spread through Kyoto like wildfire after that.

Tales of an insane swordsman who fought like a beast and didn’t appear human made their way into bars and brothels alike. Others romanticized the story a bit more and portrayed the samurai as a hero cutting down the awful Shindo Dojo disciples. Even the puppet shows were starting to mix and match the different stories for merit.

What stood out most of all though was her hand in marriage. Her father wasn’t always the most discreet when it came to her future engagement, so the rolls and rolls upon scrolls that slathered the city that demanded for the swordsman weren’t surprising.

The thing that was surprising was that they had found him.

Akemi had heard earlier that day from the passing servants that a samurai was being kept locked away in the lord's quarters. Whether it was the samurai was up to debate, but Akemi knew her father and knew that what he wanted, he would often get. Or, capture, in this case.

In her mind, she imagined the swordsman to be like water, slipping through every crack and crevice. Elusive as smoke and quicker than the wind when leaving Kyoto.

At least, that’s what she had been hoping for. Maybe if he was, her father would calm down and allow for Taigen’s handling of the situation to cool over. Maybe then, she could happily marry the man she loved.

Instead, here she was, peeking through the sliding doors into the large room that held the lord's infirmary. It was more of a private suite than an actual place for healing, so the single large bed that lay in the center of the room was odd, but expected.

Akemi knew that no guards would be allowed through this entrance since it connected directly to her own quarters, having the option of visiting her father when he was sick. Thankfully, it looked like the guards were either switching posts or taking a break because the room was empty except for the lump of a person in the bed.

Although Akemi had been mourning the future of what could have been the last few days, she also knew when to intervene. Taigen had yet to visit her after news of his defeat made waves through Kyoto. Regardless, Akemi knew how much Taigen felt like the failed proposal was his fault.

Although the stories were starting to get more insane and further from the truth with each day, Akemi knew Taigen better than anyone. He was the strongest samurai within Kyoto. Boasting a 32 winning streak in his duels and always working to be better despite being the best.

Therefore, the manic swordsman either had to be a cheating lowlife or something more sinister.

Something less than human.

The kitchen knife she managed to sneak away from her dinner platter was tucked neatly into her folded front. If anything were to happen, she’d rather die than have to marry someone other than Taigen. She was realistic after all, winning against someone who beat her love was like asking for a miracle of strength to overcome her.

All that she wanted from their encounter was to make a deal with the man. If it didn’t work out, she would simply slice her own throat open and leave the world. Life wouldn’t be worth living if it wasn’t with Taigen after all.

She slid the door shut behind her and welcomed the faint darkness of the room. Her only source of light in the otherwise large room were lanterns covered by thick layers of paper decorated in complex and beautiful patterns. Birds sitting on branches and mountains boasting of larger than life sceneries.The resulting shadows splayed out throughout the room like dying sunlight falling through the trees.

It made it difficult for Akemi to properly see the face of the swordsman, or the rest of his body for that matter. The only thing she could make out was the indigo coat that covered the round shoulders.

As she approached to get a closer look, she realized that the shape looked all wrong.

The body was too small and the legs barely made a shape further down the bed, almost as if there weren’t legs at all. Just as Akemi realized all of this, a large callused hand covered her mouth and shoved her onto the bed.

It happened so quickly she barely had time to think about screaming, or rather, taking the knife out of her kimono. When her back hit the soft surface, the metal tumbled to the pillows next to her and erased her only escape. The air left her chest from the attack and a small groan was the only sound that escaped the quiet room.

No movement outside indicated that the guards were worried or even intrigued. Most likely not even hearing the sound at all.

There was a singular moment where the figure above her was lit from behind and only the shadow outlining his body could be seen. Nothing but sharp shoulders, a thin waist, and large pants could be discerned. The rest of his face and body was pitch black.

Before she could start struggling, the man leaned over her and held both her wrists in one hand as his other hand reached for the discarded knife, leaving her mouth free. However, as quickly as he touched the knife, it left his fingertips and sliced through the candles with the beautiful designs, effectively shrouding them into darkness. His hand found its way back to Akemi’s mouth quicker than she had the opportunity to scream.

Akemi could only feel the heavy weight of the man directly on top of her, and the feeling of his breath against her forehead.

Now thrown into darkness, the panic that overtook Akemi’s mind started to spread like wildfire. She grunted and tried fighting back, only to find that the man was of considerable strength and no amount of wiggling could save her.

“Hmrpgh!”

The man shifted then, pinning Akemi’s hips and wrists down with even more force. The breathing also came closer, now right next to her ear, hot and heavy.

“Shut. Up.”

The voice sounded like steel, light and airy yet heavy with killing intent.

Akemi stilled then, exhausted from trying to escape. She wasn’t afraid of dying per say, more that she didn’t even get the chance to offer her deal. After all, It was a hefty sum of her dowry that she was planning on bribing him with.

She stayed quiet as instructed but even then, the hands never left her wrists and the weight atop her stayed constant. Just as she thought that this is how she would die: suffocating underneath the raging swordsman, her mouth was finally freed.

“Let me help you.” She whispered instantly. Hoping the swordsman took it as a peace offering that she wasn’t screaming for help.

The man stilled above her, his strength dissipating from her wrists as Akemi continued on.

“You were captured, right? Let me go and I’ll show you how to escape.”

The floor probably would’ve made a better choice when he attacked, yet the man went for the bed instead. And rather than ravaging Akemi, he only pinned her down and waited for the guards to switch posts so he could release his hold on her mouth.

“The guards won’t know where to look. We can leave now.”

Akemi knew that she wasn’t going to win in a battle of strength, but she could always fall back onto her word. She just hoped that what she suspected was enough of a reason for a deal to be made.

He wasn’t seeking danger—only a means to escape. Akemi just hoped she gave him enough of a reason to let her help him.

The silence stretched for seconds that felt like lifetimes before the man above her sighed and asked dejectedly,

“Why does everyone think I need help?”

And without another word, Akemi’s wrists and body were no longer being held down.

She sat up quickly and was left searching for the man with an outstretched hand before the room was once again lit up with the light outside the sliding doors.

“Akemi?”

Her father’s large frame stood blocking the door, looking confused as Akemi quickly stood up and tried to look as normal as possible.

However, as she began to explain herself, the darkness that had been broken by her father consumed her once more. Suddenly the knife she had snuck into the room was pressed into her throat and familiar hands held onto her waist fiercely.

“Don’t move.” The swordsman growled. He was taller than Akemi and so his voice boomed from above her frighteningly, “Or she dies.”

Chapter Text

The knife pressed further into her skin and Akemi yelped as pain overtook her senses. She winced, holding her breath as she tried to remain still. She never would have guessed that the sword she was planning on using to take her own life if things went south would be used against her.

“What do you want?” She hears her father ask as he starts coming closer, rather calmly despite his daughter currently having a knife to her throat, “I’ve already accommodated you so much, it’s rude to leave so quickly.”

Akemi’s breath stuttered in her chest as Mizu clutched her waist harder, making her step back and closer to the dark corner of the room. The darkness and panic at the edges of her eyesight make it hard to focus, but she recognizes the frightening smirk on her father’s face. It’s the same one he uses when he’s conducting business and has struck a deal that has him gaining more than the other right beneath their noses.

“I said, don’t move.” The man’s chin brushes against her hairline and above the top of her right ear. She’s already pressed against the edge of the man’s sharp jaw and can feel the thunder of his voice in his throat. Her throat bared and open, she imagines how nicely the blood would paint the snow white of her skin.

“You know, those sheets you bled all over are too expensive to get rid of now,” Her father signals the guards to flank as he suddenly starts to close the sliding doors behind him, shrouding them in darkness once more, “I must burn them if word gets out how badly I’m mistreating my son-in-law.”

“I’ve accepted no proposal and no marriage for that matter” The man responds. If she were free, Akemi would be sighing around the sudden relief in her chest.

The light from outside barely makes any difference in the darkness of the room, and yet, Akemi can imagine the bloodthirsty grin her father must be wearing. She wonders if he even realizes that she is here with them all, entrapped in a man’s hold as the danger begins to mount higher and higher.

Suddenly, a match is struck, and the room lights back up in the same shadows and designs as before. This time, however, there is an unnerving flicker from the candles that makes the guards and her father look like demons straight out of the story scrolls Seki would read to her as a child.

More candles are lit as her father circles around the room while the guards slowly gather around Akemi and her captor. The effect is like the sun rising in the royal infirmary, chasing the darkness away from the corner they both reside in.

As quickly as the light has risen, the hand around Akemi’s waist becomes even more fierce. The man’s hand tugs and finally rips Akemi’s thin nighttime obi from around her waist. The effect is immediate and Akemi struggles to close the opening of her kimono with a knife to her throat. She can feel the heat in her face as she gasps. The guards quickly look away despite the danger that the man behind her holds.

Just as Akemi is planning to somehow mediate the situation once again with polite words and a sum of her dowry, the sharp edge of the knife is gone from her throat. She’s pushed backward once more, but instead of a strong chest to fall back against, she’s met with the hardness of the ground. She doesn’t have time to yelp from the pain once she realizes that the man is standing in front of her. A kitchen knife in his hold and in a stance that looks like a bird about to take flight. The guards seem surprised, but by what, Akemi is not quite sure.

She pulls her kimono tighter around herself, legs and knees exposed regardless of her attempts at propriety. She only hopes that the guards will have some decency and look away. The heels of her hands are red with from the impact of the ground, and she can feel the wet of her own blood on her chin.

“There’s no point in fighting back.” Her father is now coming towards the man, the guards separating for his entrance. He’s not holding any weapon, yet the guards unsheath their swords at his words, “You’ll accept my offer either way.”

“Don’t plan on it” The man growls.

And suddenly, he’s attacking as wildly as the stories have made up throughout the past few days. He’s swift with a killing intent that goes far beyond anything that Akemi has seen. Outside of friendly sparring practice between young royal disciples that she has been allowed permission to watch, Akemi hasn’t seen this much bloodshed in her entire life.

The man is magnificent. He’s slim and therefore can dodge attacks that happen in the blink of an eye. However, his strength is obvious with the way the guards fly after a perfectly timed slash. Somehow, the man has swapped the sharp kitchen knife for a proper sword, stolen from a dead guard that must’ve attacked first. Regardless, there is no difference in the quickness of the man, only that the attacks are more deadly.

It’s when the man spins to impale a guard that Akemi finally realizes why the guards looked so surprised earlier.

The man, in all his ravenous killing intent, has Akemi’s thin obi wrapped around his eyes, completely blocking his sight as he fights.

The realization is sharp and Akemi fears for her life even more. There is no way the man cannot win with the disadvantage he’s given himself. If anything, it feels like a jab at the guards and Akemi’s father. Killing so easily and ruthlessly without sight and a stolen sword never held before.

Blood splatters the entirety of the room and Akemi’s white kimono isn’t an exception. She wonders if she’ll be able to look at the sweet tart of cherries when they’re in season after this. The color having been completely burned into her memory.

When the man has finally finished each of the guards off, he’s panting and adjusting the obi-turned-blindfold around his eyes. He’s no longer in any stance, like he knows that Akemi’s father has no choice but to surrender now.

“Incredible. The stories are true, you truly are an unirivaled swordsman after all.”

The room’s silence is broken by the sound of a sword slicing through the air. Akemi shuts her eyes and whimpers despite herself, not wanting to see her father die with her own eyes.

“Let me go and I will never cause you trouble again.” Akemi’s ears perk up at the sound of the swordsman’s voice, deep and raspy with the sound of catching his breath in between the words.

“Hahaha, you are quite stubborn.”

Akemi reopens her eyes instantly and finds her father in the room still alive. He’s pushed up against the candles he’s lit himself, with the sharp point of the blindfolded man’s sword in his face. He still has the nerve to look like he’s completely in control and Akemi feels sick at the look of the expression. Her childhood dominated by that face, far more fear-inducing than anything the swordsman could do.

“You desire something. As do I.” Her father explains after the sword sinks into his skin and creates a flow of blood down his chin and throat, “You would be unwise to cut off such a direct connection to Heiji Shindo just like that.”

“Explain. Now.” The swordsman demands. Despite the blindfold, Akemi imagines how fiercely the man’s eyes must look right now, doused in gasoline and ready to burn the entire palace down starting with this room.

“You are on a path that has unending pain, injury, and secrecy.” Her father starts, attempting to shift further away from the sword as he speaks, “Let me make that path easier for you.”

The swordsman makes no further move. It’s a signal as clear as day, tell me more.

“You are injured. The nurses came to tend to you, yet you nearly killed them once your clothes were removed, snarling and attacking like a wounded dog.”

At this, Akemi realizes the stain of blood on the swordsman’s side, fresh blood having dripped onto the floor at this stand-off. She looks down at her own kimono covered in bloodsplatter, and notices a faint read outline of a hand on her waist. The same place the man had held her before stealing her obi.

“You cannot travel far with a wound like that.” Her father continues, “Heiji Shindo may deserve the death you plan to bring to him, but the castle he resides in will kill you before you get the chance to meet him.”

Akemi has never heard of this man, Heiji Shindo, that they are discussing so openly. Yet now, she becomes intrigued with the implications the converstion holds. If the swordsman is refraining from her father’s death so easily, he must be of some importance. Surely more than whatever Akemi’s dowry would have offered him.

“Get to the point.” The swordsman snarls.

“You marry my daughter and all will be taken care of. The trip, the injury, the wedding.”

“I have no interest in marrying,” The man’s voice is gruff and sounds like the thunder Akemi used to fear so much as a child, “I am no one’s husband.”

Her father’s eyes shift to his daughter’s slowly, “You will make a great husband for Akemi. All the protection I so require for her will be held by you.”

Akemi’s heart sinks at that. Not only did she witness the entire conversation like she wasn’t in the room, but now she was being offered like a piece of meat to the man who tried to kill her.

“Father-”

“I am not suited for a princess.” Before her father could interject, the man reached up to the blindfold and pulled it down and away from his face and eyes. The candlelight flickered with the movement, yet still held strong as Akemi could see the man’s eyes for the first time.

Blue. Just like the ocean on a sunny day, or the sky in the summers. Bright and icy with the frown the man wore, he finally looked at her father head on. Almost as if he was daring her father to deny the very meaning of the discovery.

“As I said, your path is one of pain, injury and secrecy.” Her father doesn’t share the same shocked expression Akemi knows her face is showing. Instead, he’s smiling up at the swordsman gleefully. Almost like he’s planned the entire thing from the start, “You marry Akemi, and the shogun will never know of your existence at all.”

Her father extends his hand and locked within his grasp is a pair of spectacles. The orange of the circles remind Akemi of a setting sun. The swordsman hesitantly reaches out before grabbing the spectables and setting it back on his face, effectively hiding the blue of his eyes.

Akemi watches as the swordsman finally glanced over at her. She wondered what she must look like, drenched in blood and sweat, kimono barely closed with the smearing paint against her face. All but the perfect picture of an innocent young wife, Akemi thought angrily.

Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps could be heard outside the lord's quarter’s. Women searching for Akemi and the footfalls of more guards coming to investigate.

“We can discuss more later. For now, what do you say? Ready to become family?” Her father’s voice is assured, the edge of acid leaking into the last question. Akemi knows it’s a tactic to make the man agree quickly, before more guards can swarm the room.

So she doesn’t feel surprised as much as disappointed that the man simply nods and finally drops the sword. The soft sound of the metal skidding against the wooden floor revirbirating across the room to the corner where Akemi sits, stunned.

The sliding doors open then, the guards swarming in and looking stunned at the scene laid out before them. Instead of telling the guards to attack, her father instructs them to halt and help the swordsman back into bed. Something about another outburst regarding his injuries.

Akemi’s eyes flicker to the mess of dead guards around her then, hoping to find the sharp kitchen knife she had such trouble hiding from Seki and her maids. If she can just hold on a little longer and find out the entire deal they’re making, she can have a say in what her future looks like.

However, her maids and attendants quickly swarm the room after the dead guards have been shoved out of the way. They fret over her and quickly fold her up into a thick bundle of overlaying cloth, trying desperately to hide her body. As she’s being led away, Akemi glances to the man who is to be her husband.

He sits propped up agains the bed with nurses around him trying so hard to undress the man. She doesn’t catch his eyes, but focuses on his throat instead. Adorned by a strikingly familiar pattern, the scarf the man has tied around his neck makes Akemi’s breath halt and stutter.

“Taigen..”

It’s the last thing she says before being pulled out of the room.

—

The warmth of the bath water doesn’t get rid of the blood that has stained onto Akemi’s skin. Her attendants have to scrub her skin to get rid of everything, yet even after they’ve left Akemi to soak, she can still feel the wet of it on her. She scrubs herself until her skin is raw and pink.

After a female doctor cleans the cut on her throat, she’s finally dressed for bed and sends everyone away. She doesn’t know how to feel about the entire situation that has occured, but one thing is certain: she will marry the man who’s blood splatter has stained her for the rest of her life. Even the mark he left on her will become a scar, something the attendants will fret over once the wedding is in order.

The wedding…

Akemi suddenly stands from her bed, starting to pace and trying not to spiral. Seki would always tolerate her tantrums when she was younger, but the moment she started showing signs of becoming a woman, the rules applied to her. One of which was that a princess would never show weakness or struggle, even in her most dire moments. Royalty ruled the domain, in the people’s eyes she was as good as a deity. Akemi had long since learned this vital aspect of her rule once her title was bestowed upon her.

Yet now, she could not bare to stiffle the panic she felt in her chest and throat, threatening to be released. Underneath the royal title, the fancy cloth, and the weighty hairpieces, she was just as human as anyone else. Less an actual person than just a figure in people’s minds. Her desires meant nothing from the moment she was born as a female.

Akemi sat down at her mirror, looking at her own face. The news of her impending marriage must have been announced to her attedants, becauses the scrolls of instruction and paintings of ohaguro lined her otherwise empty desk. She inspected one closely and compared her appearance to the woman in the painting.

She lifted her hair, baring her neck once again and smiled in a similar way to the woman. She would be married sooner rather than later, and to a man who was not Taigen but someone more wild and fierce with a sword and killing intent. The thought sent shivers down her body.

Akemi dropped her hair and let her smile fall. Sighing heavily, she decided the exhuastion she felt in every inch of her body would win out over her sorrow, so she laid back down and closed her eyes. Thunder and rain played in her mind. A storm across the expanse of ocean and the orange of the sun splashing through the chaos. The orange hue blocked the blue, ad Akemi had an odd feeling of recollection.

Before she could follow that thin thread of curiosity, darkness and sleep overtook her completely.

༄༄༄༄

Mizu was promptly moved to another room just as large and gaudy as the previous one before she had slaughtered the majority of the guards and made a mess of the place. The snow was starting to pick up outside and warnings of a blizzard could be heard amongst the guards stationed outside the room and from the doctors helping her bleeding side.

“This may sting a little.” An elderly woman warned. She was wrapped in royal reds and soft beiges. The mark of a doctor in a royal setting. The thread and needle in Mizu’s side was anything but comfortable, but when the doctor stitched the farthest apart stretches of the cut together, Mizu bit her tongue and grunted.

It’s not like she wasn’t used to pain, it was merely that the needle used was dipped in medicine that was meant to numb the entire process but only made it sting more. Maybe they were planning on drugging her and the deal she had made rather hurriedly was a mistake after all.

The doctor finished up quickly and wrapped bandages around her middrift. Mizu didn’t care to explain the jut of her hips peeking above her billowy pants and the doctor and her assistant didn’t address it either. Maybe they knew better than to ask questions. At least Mizu’s bandages around her chest weren’t too exposed. She only allowed help after the lord had threatened to end the deal since she’d be good as dead without any help otherwise.

After asking for an extra roll of bandages from the doctor and assistant to rewrap her chest, she was greeted by a knock at the door.

It slid open before Mizu could think of what to say, and the lord stepped through once more. His own wound tended to and wrapped up. He held two cups of tea and smiled.

Mizu frowned. Sliding her glasses back up her nose from where she glared at the man over the orange hue, “No visitors.”

“We have more to discuss.” He sat at a nearby table, already starting to pour hot tea into the cups. The steam flowed above each cup, highlighting just how cold it was starting to get. The sliding doors didn’t do much for heat, “Come join me.”

Mizu technically didn’t have a choice, throughout the battle and sudden deal she was very injured. The loss of blood for so long and throughout a fight made her more exhuasted than she cared to admit. And tea never meant violence, only in a political sense at least.

When she was seated across from the lord, he took a sip first before gesturing to Mizu to do the same. Recognizing her hesitance, the lord continued, “If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already. Poison is not my style.”

Mizu raised her eyebrow, seemingly surprised despite herself. All she knew about those in positions of power was that they weren’t as loving and fair as they were supposed to be. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if those in the position of power held nefarious secrets regarding their journey to the top.
“Your dead guards tell a different story.” Mizu challenged, hardly believing the man when he said he could have her killed.

“Oh those people? I just needed a few talented soldiers to really guage your strength and talent. I am marrying my one and only daughter off. And you performed wonderfully, fully past my expectations” The lord took another sip of his tea, looking over the lip of his cup directly at Mizu.

Mizu frowned, not liking the way the conversation was headed. She felt trapped suddenly.

“What more of the deal must I know.”

“Ah yes, business first and foremost.” He chuckled, setting down the teacup, “Firstly, I must inform you that your friend has helped tremendously in letting me know the extent of your desires. He has told me all about your path to Heiji Shindo.”

Mizu knitted her brows together harshly. She wasn’t surprised that news of her esapades at Shindo Dojo were known throughout Kyoto, but whether or not they knew about her reasons was another story. She barely managed to hide her surprise at the mention of Heiji Shindo while threatening the lord earlier.

“I have no friends to speak of.”

“Ah, this man seems to have another view of the situation then. Either way, he is locked up in the imperial prison,” The lord smirks, searching Mizu’s face for any sort of reaction “Would you like to see for yourself?”

Mizu glares, suddenly wondering if Ringo somehow managed to get caught while gathering supplies. She distantly wonders if his whole disciple act was one that was only meant to let her guard down. Maybe he even worked with the imperial guards when they were hiding out in the caves.

“No need.” Mizu decides, looking down at her tea and finally taking a sip. It tasted sweet with a hint of medicinal herbs.

The lord chuckled more before starting to stand, “It seems I haven’t made myself clear. We are going to the prison. Part of this deal starts with him.” He extends his hand for mizu, gleeful in his demeanor yet a dangerous undercurrent flowed in his eyes.

Mizu mentally berated herself for thinking she could trust the man with something as important as her one life goal. Another part of herself knew that if she hadn’t accepted, certain death would have followed. The only issue that remained then, was the topic of Ringo. She didn’t know if she wanted to see him begging for her forgiveness.

Flahes of Mikio crossed her mind.

She ignored the lord's hand and got up on her own, letting the pull of the stitches in her side overpower the memories of her dead husband. If she had to burn more bridges to get to the man who stood by Heiji Shindo, she would.

The walk to the prison is fairly short considering how large the palace is. Mizu supposes she’s just used to the long travels she’s done to make it here. When they enter the cold vacuum of a prison hidden under the ground, Mizu starts to wonder if this is an ambush rather than an actual part of the deal. She wishes she had her sword, but the weights around her wrists and ankles could work if anything did happen.

The staircase winding further and further down made anxiety swoop in Mizu’s stomach. Her freshly stitched side ached at the unforgiving cold of the prison. She wondered how Ringo could stomach such an environment.

Their steps echoed through the stairway until they finally reached flat ground again. Only then did Mizu see how dark and decrepit the cells were. Only a few lined the hallway but the one they were headed to was the furthest away. Only lit by the candle the lord was holding, Mizu could hardly make out the shape of Ringo in the dark.

“Something else you should know,” The lord started, walking closer and closer to the cell shrouded in darkness, “He’s been eagerly awaiting your arrival. So much so that we made a little deal of our own.”

Mizu frowned, wondering what Ringo would even want from an lord. Yet, as they finally approached the bars of the cell, the flickering light reflected sharp cheekbones, black hair, and green patterned clothes.

“Taigen?”

Taigen looked up, lip cut and a budding black eye making it hard for him to maintain eye contact. The anger on his face was still as apparent as ever regardless of most of his face being battered and bruised. It looked like he was on the verge of jumping up and crashing into the bars to see Mizu more clearly, but the chains tied around his wrists kept him barred to the filthy ground beneath him.

“What deal?” Mizu directed her scowl to the lord then, fear and relief building up in her chest in equal amounts. Fear from the danger that Taigen could cause despite his rather grim position, and relief that he was the only one in the cell. Ringo must’ve taken her absence as a sign to finally head back home and continue his life in that unassuming noodle shop.

“He’s explained his situation and I have enough sympathy to let him get one more chance. A bit of hope, if you will.” The lord came closer to the cell, sticking the candle into the cell through the bars so that the entirety of Taigen’s face could be seen more clearly, “He’s committed some crimes against the palace, sure. But he’s paid the price, and I think his request will be worthwhile.”

Mizu ventured to get closer as well, suddenly shocked by the amount of dried blood splattering Taigen’s clothes and neck. The clean cuts against his chin and forehead contrasted darkly against the purple blots on his nose, cheekbones, and jaw. He heaves around each breath, probably from a few broken ribs, Mizu guesses.

“You’ll have one duel. Registered and witnessed by me. One chance to Akemi’s hand in marriage.” The lord states simply, almost like he’s reading off of a contract. He is, probably. Somewhere in the confines of his quarters is most likely a piece of paper waiting to be signed by them both to sign.

Mizu doesn’t know what to say. It’s clear that the anger Taigen holds is one that can translate easily into battle. Probably one he won’t be so uncaring of this time, now that he knows what to expect. Who to expect. It must show on her face if the chuckle that escapes Taigen’s mouth is any indication.

“Told you I’d duel you, one way or another.” He spits blood out of the cell, right in front of where Mizu stands. It barely misses her feet.

“I don’t understand.” Mizu admits, turning her attention away from the chained Taigen and back to the lord once more.

At this the lord brings the candle back and leaves Taigen in the darkness once more. It’s unnerving to know that he’s just right there, hidden by the cold depths of the underground prison and fueld by nothing more than anger. Mizu follows behind, still wondering how Taigen managed to find his way in a cell that belongs to his supposed love’s father. She guesses this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to initiate the duel, but if it got him Akemi’s favor back, it didn’t matter.

“You’ve bested Taigen, Kyoto’s best samurai. This alone already makes you more than qualified to marry my daughter.” The lord starts ascending the stairs then, one by one, in a slow manner, “However, Taigen has given me worthwhile information to keep you here. Therefore, I have accepted his request.”

“You know he will fail.” Mizu states, dumbfounded.

“I know that you win.” He responds, “Because even though he may say he loves Akemi, I know one thing he does not.”

“Which is?”

He turns around suddenly, the candlelight creating sharp shadows across his face.

“The fall of the Shogun will be headed by Heiji Shindo, and you will do anything to be there when it happens.”

Mizu freezes then, her steps stopping on the way up. She didn’t care to hide the surprise on her face because the fall of an empire was not only coming but confirmed by a lord. At the hand of Heiji Shindo nonetheless. She supposes that this was to be expected since the man was trading various weapons from outside sources. Not to mention hiding a white man within the country that currently had a no outsiders rule.

“Therefore, I have a suspicion you’ll be winning if you want to meet the man himself. No extraneous journey to the deadly castle needed.” He turns back to the staircase and continues the journey upwards.

The snow outside falls softly onto Mizu’s hair and on her spectacles. It melts instantly but annoys her to no end that she no longer has her hat to keep her dry. Maybe she’ll ask for a new one to be made so that her deal can be worthwhile at the very least.

When they’re back in the room mizu was patched up in, she sits at the bed while the lord seats himself back the table. The tea has long gone cold, yet he still takes a careful sip, staring at Mizu blatantly atop the cup.

The stitches on her side itch and Mizu has a sneaking suspicion that the coated needle really was a poison. However, before she can start to seriously think of the possibility, she gets pulled back to the task at hand.

“I am not asking you to marry for love,” The lord begins, “Man to man, I know it is foolish to ask for anything more than cordiality. Marriage is a tale told to young women to distract them from reality, which Akemi is a victim of.”

Mizu considers this. She obviously does not love Akemi. She barely knows the girl at all, how could she love a stranger? Mikio flashes in her mind again, and she looks down at her lap, eyes closed to distract herself.

“I’m merely suggesting a deal that works in both our favors.”

Mizu casts a scowl towards the lord, eyebrow lifting in a questioning expression, “What do you have to gain from your daughter’s marriage to a demon?”

“Your path is one that ensures death, and your death may just work in my benefit.”

Before Mizu could ask any more questions, the lord stood then. Suddenly seemingly bored with the entire thing as he yawned and stretched. The image of a regular man underneath royal robes and a title popped into Mizu’s head at the gesture. She wondered if people ever saw her in a similar light, or if they truly did believe her to be something that didn’t count as a person. A non-human with empty eyes and a stolen soul.

“Get some rest. You have a duel to prepare for.”

“Wait!” Mizu rushed over then, limping slightly with the pain of her side, “You’ve made additions to the deal I initially agreed to. Therefore, I have my own additions.” She straightens, pulling her meanest scowl to outweigh the burst of pain she feels at the movement.

The lord turns around and faces Mizu, clearly curious.

“My sword. I keep it with me at all times.” Mizu continues before she gets rejected, “You have captured me with the bribe that I will kill who I intend to. Now it is my turn to get some agency back. My sword is a reminder that I can escape as easily as you can hand me to the shogun. This is my dealbreaker.”

Mizu hopes that despite her clutching her side, her stance and expression can give her strength. She knows she’s in a disadvantageous position, but the least she can do is have her sword. A bird in a cage still has its song.

“Consider it done.” The lord says, unimpressed, “Clothes will be set aside for you.”

And just like that, he’s gone and the silence of the large room begins to eat Mizu alive. She doesn’t know how she ended up here when the original goal was to escape to the seaside. She decides that had it not been for Taigen and his insane quest for honor and Akemi, she’d have been successful. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminds her that she was the one that bursted into Taigen’s territory. She shakes her head and sits back down onto the bed, tired from the day and all the events that happened.

She’s accepted this deal and with it the marriage that will bind her to Princess Akemi for the rest of her life. Which probably won’t be that long, as the lord mentioned. On top of this, Taigen wants to duel her for Akemi’s hand. She cannot lose or else it would end in her own death and the three white men in Japan living their lives. The situation is dire, yet it’s obvious what Mizu must do.

She undresses and loosens the bandages around her chest more than usual to sleep. The candles are blown out and the darkness washes over her in waves until she’s finally asleep and dreams yet again of golden butterflies, this time dipped in crimson.

Chapter Text

Mizu doesn’t sleep in like the royal physician’s might’ve hoped for. In fact, she didn’t get too much sleep at all with how concerned she was about getting ambushed late in the night when she’d be at her most vulnerable. It had been a while since she felt this vulnerable. As a child out on the streets, she had grown used to the cold, the hard of the ground when sleeping, and even the pain that would come with the town’s bullies such as Taigen. A few pebbles to the face started to feel fine after a while.

However, she thought that she had left that lifestyle far behind her. Ever since she started living with swordfather, that fear started to ebb away, until the four walls of their shared space became a safe space for her. Even out traveling alone in the wilderness of winter she felt fine as long as she had her sword a short distance away from her.

Now though, it felt like she had been transformed back into that child before her path to revenge had started. Maybe that’s how the lord intended for things to go. He had assured her that her sword would be given back to her, but no specifics on when. Maybe it was a form of psycological warfare. Leaving her awake and unrested throughout the night in hopes of making her feel small and helpless.

So as Mizu watched the physicians start to draw a bath for her and making their way to her to check her stiches, she gave them a bit more trouble than she usually would.

“I don’t need help undressing myself.” Mizu assured, scowling at three middle-aged women who looked pale in the face at her attitude. Mizu didn’t blame them, she probably looked worse than she did yesterday. Sleep deprivation was always affecting Mizu, but last night felt particularly long without her sword near her.

After she allowed them to change the bandages and check up on the stitches, she let them go in the name of privacy. Not that she truly believed that she had any here. There were probably guards stationed just outside the doors. The physicians mentioned coming every hour or so, so she wouldn’t have that much time to herself. Not that she needed that long to bathe anyways. Most of the lakes she washed herself in were freezing cold, so she learned how to get in and get out fairly quickly.

Mizu checked her stitches in the small circular mirror that sat nicely on a nearby desk. The swollen red around the thread was looking better already, but it still screamed in pain whenever she forgot to limit her mobility. It was healing, that was enough.

Mizu adjusted the angle of the mirror, setting it on her face instead and watching her reflection for any signs of panic or sadness or anything. She only allowed herself a sense of satisfaction in battle and sometimes with swordfather while making swords. Outside of these two things, she had restricted her feelings so that she didn’t feel she was being held down to anything or anyone.

Her face remained steely, the only real difference being the red lining of her eyes and dark circles beneath them. She sighed, unravelling her hair and noticing how much dirtier it had gotten. Sleeping in a cave and passing out multiple times definitely wasn’t doing anything good for her hair. Dried blood also made her hair stick and create clumps that her fingers fought against as she tried combing through them. Her curly strand of hair lay against her face, dipping into her line of sight as she gave up on her hair and began undressing.

The physicians warned that the stitches were fine to be immersed since they had wrapped extra bandages around her midline. However, too much soaking would disrupt it. With that in mind, Mizu moved slowly, taking off her shirt and pants. Her chest had been bandaged before the physicians came at daybreak, but now she released them completely.

She breathed and was pleased when her lungs could expand much easier around each intake. It was rare for her to get such a deep breath like this in the wilderness while traveling alone. Even back in Kohama, she’d take baths and have some privacy, but it had been too long since she was able to have both comfort and privacy.

She got into the bath without too much trouble. The warmth startled her skin and made the rest of her body flush in goosebumps. She shivered before succumbing to the warm heat of the water and immersing herself completely. A groan escaped her mouth as the water raced up to the dip of her collarbones and shoulders.

Mizu knew she couldn’t soak too long, and so she quickly got to work lathering the nice smelling soaps into her body and her hair, focusing on the clumps of dried blood that stuck to her skull. She quickly switched to using one hand after her stiches resisted too much and her groans became one of pain instead of pleasure. After washing and drying herself off fully, she stood and grabbed the clothes the attendants had dropped off earlier. It was the same indigo color as her tattered and bloodied shirt, with the exception of nicer material being used.

Mizu had just finished rewrapping her chest and securing the bandages around her injury when the sound of the sliding doors snapped her mind back to her current location. The bath had made her too relaxed. Her hand quickly went to her waist for her sword and panicked when she realized it wasn’t there. At the same time, she realized she was still naked from the waist up. Her bare feet damp and pink agains the grain of the wooden floor. Completely unarmed.

“Fuck.” Mizu cursed under her breath. Her bandages felt like a vice once more, pulling at and restricting her lungs dangerously.

Carefully, she shoved the cloak that had come with her clothes around her shoulders and peeked out from behind the decorated changing screen. The splattering of beautiful women draped in her room was the last thing that Mizu expected to see. Her intent to slaughter anyone who wasn’t the physicians or the lord himself sunk away and was replaced with exasperation.

Determined to pretend that she was still soaking in the bath hidden behind the changing screen, Mizu slunk back behind the thin ink paintings of cranes in flight. The option to pretend she hadn’t heard anything in order to not interact with the women quickly disappeared once one woman spoke up.

“Sir, come out. I promise we don’t bite. Well, most of us.”

The woman’s voice was silky and deep. A voice like soft velvet and the crashing waves of the sea against the shore. Mizu’s gut kicked and she sighed heavily.

“I requested no guests except the physicians.” Mizu gritted out, She unclipped the cloack around her and shoved on a shirt.

“Ah yes, the physicians mentioned how…aggressive you can be. Perhaps that’s in your nature.” The woman continued. The soft steps of footfalls could be heard around the room. Mizu had counted a minimum of four or five women wrapped in fancy reds and blossoming pinks, drags of red and white mixed in all the same. Calling these women prostitutes wasn’t the right term. In fact, Mizu recalled a royal crest on one of the woman’s kimono. Concubines.

“We cater to your nature. There’s no need to worry, you can be rough with us.”

Two women appeared on opposite sides of the changing screen just as Mizu had finished warpping up her hair and setting her spectacles on.

“There is no need.” Mizu narrowly missed the puddle that she had dragged out from the bath as a woman crept closer, lips red like blood and eyes dark, “I am…not interested.”

The woman didn’t seem convinced. The fire in her eyes only hightened more, following Mizu’s body as she fled around the changing screen. What welcomed Mizu on the other side however, was no different from what she just escaped. Three more women who ranged from slim younger concubines, to fuller more busty women stared into Mizu’s eyes. Their blatant show of attraction evident in their eyes.

“You’ll be interested in us. No point in trying to stall.” An older woman drawls, her hair tied up in intricate braids with a shiny lacqured ox horn on the top. The light reflected off of it and pushed Mizu back.

She hadn’t gone far before hands wrapped around her waist. Breasts pressed against her shoulders and a quiet giggle in her ear. Mizu shut her eyes and groaned, surprised at the touch on her wound, still delicate and sore from the bath. The woman took her pained whimper as pleasure and redirected her hands up towards her chest, cooing behind Mizu.

“Shh, I know, I know.”

Mizu pushed the woman’s hands away, shuddering at the feeling of being touched so sensually. It had been too long since she had been touched with so much attraction. The feeling had her lighting up from the inside out.

“Please, I–”

“Which is your type. You can tell us, we won’t get jealous.” The older woman from before caught a stumbling Mizu, holding her shoulders, “We like to watch.”

“That isn’t–”

The concubines formed a tight circle around Mizu then. Their scent of incense suffocated her and wandering hands kept touching the pull of skin stitched together at her side. Mizu whimpered despite herself, groaning at the pain.

“So sensitive.”

Fingers found Mizu’s chin, her shoulders, and the line of her throat under her jaw. Despite herself, Mizu could hear herself huffing, words failing to form from her throat. She could feel the pain, but the touches sparked a deeper something inside her.

Mizu wasn’t versed in sex. She’d only had sex with Mikio a year into their marriage after a few nice words and nicer touches, yet even that had felt like lifetimes ago. Mizu supposes that the women she had met in seedy bars and hostels along her journey also counted, but she wasn’t sure. Drunkenly kissing someone up against the wall didn’t exactly count as sex, did it?

The women cooed around Mizu as she tried to escape. Their hands started to drift further past her injured side, aiming for something further down. Finally, Mizu broke free with some wriggling that only made her groan loader from the sharp stab of pain at her side.

“Stay away.” She said, pulling herself up into a standing position, grabbing once more for her sword that was not there.

“There, there. Let us help you.” One woman said, smiling coyly around her red lips. They started flanking Mizu once more, starting a fight that Mizu had no idea how to win. Despite pretending to be a man for so long to accomplish her goals, she could never raise a hand so easily to another woman. It felt different than hurting a man. She couldn’t bring herself to properly attack these women, let alone with her injuries.

A woman with rouge lips and golden hair pieces came forward then, dressed in robes that mimicked blood leaking into water. The others slowly disperse, slinking away from the two to what Mizu can only describe as trying to give them a sense of privacy. The woman wastes no time and presses into Mizu’s space and touches the bandaged stitches gently. Mizu sucks air into her mouth loudly at the action and glares at the lady.

“Lord Daichi sent us.” She starts, undeterred by the blatant glare being directed to her, “Do not mind them. Our rank depends on how many rounds we can endure after all.”

“Why?” Despite Mizu’s best efforts, she’s only able to respond in one word questions. She must be more flustered than she thought.

The woman looks up into Mizu’s eyes at that. There’s an emotion there that strikes Mizu with familiarity. It mimics the look women would give her across the bar, eyebrow cocked and lip bitten. Mizu feels her stomach swoop at the gaze.

“You are injured. Does it hurt?” The woman presses into Mizu’s stitches before quickly smoothing out her hand and splaying it across her chest and up to her neck.

Mizu gasps around the pain and grunts. She grabs the woman’s wrist when she starts to squeeze Mizu’s throat experimentally.

“Don’t.” Mizu growls. She’s panting when the woman doesn’t obey and instead seats herself onto Mizu’s lap. Her weight and warmth renders Mizu speechless and she’s shocked when the woman brushes her damp curl away from her face and presses close.

“I have what you desire.” She whispers into Mizu’s ear before leaning down and kissing her jaw. Before Mizu can shove the woman off her, the feel of something hard is pushing into her chest and neck, keeping her frozen, “It’s a pretty sword.” The woman continues, her breath hot on Mizu’s neck, “Not nearly as pretty as you.”

Mizu realizes she’s been given her sword back when the scabbard brushes her shoulder once more. It’s weight and touch a familiar thing. Yet, just as Mizu’s deep rooted sense of anxiety is ebbing away, the sliding door opens once more. Instantly, Mizu pins the woman down and straddles her hips, effectively stripping her sword away from the woman who whimpers at the movement. She unsheathes the blade quickly and points it at the intruder. At the sound, the other women inside the room gasp and scatter.

The royal physicians stand at the doorway, seemingly unsure of what to do in the current situation. They’re pale at the sight of Mizu’s blade, but also at the half naked woman below Mizu. Her kimono must’ve loosened when she snuck Mizu’s own sword in between their bodies.

Mizu sighs, letting her sword down and letting the blade linger next to the woman. Mizu seethes at her and looks her directly in the eyes when she says “Leave. Now.”

The other concubines don’t have to be told twice as they quickly excuse themselves from the room. The woman below Mizu grins despite the violence and licks her lips. The rouge smears across her lips from the kisses she gave.

“As you wish.” She stands gracefully. Her body is on full display between the edges of kimono draping off her shoulders. Mizu willfully ignores her nudity and watches as the woman finally leaves after covering up properly. Her rouge lips are still a mess when she leaves.

Mizu gestures to the physicians to come in when the concubines are finally all gone. Only then does Mizu allow herself to try to calm down and relax. She sheathes her sword and lets the physicians take a look at her wound without too much fanfare. No broken stitches thankfully. Just some swollen skin that the physicians frown about.

Only after she convinces the physicians that she won’t be doing anymore strenuous activities do they leave. It takes Mizu more time to calm down because of the flush on her neck and body that simmers deeper than any fever could. When she finally does, her sleepless night begins to wear on her. Gripping her sword, she allows herself to get pulled into sleep. It’s more peaceful now that she knows she’s armed.

When she wakes, the evening sun and crumbled incense sticks tell her she’s slept through the day. As groggy as she feels, the cold touch of her sword calms her worries. She inspects her stitches in the mirror and finds a short note atop her original clothes that now looked mended and washed.

It seems you enjoyed my gift. Think of it as an engagement present. Feel free to call on them anytime. Even after the wedding, if you so desire. Additionally, your duel is set to happen in two days. Good luck.

-Lord Daichi

Mizu crushes the paper and throws it into the corner. She’s only just awoken but she already feels the rush of anger at this morning’s events. Mizu knows now that regardless of what she wants, she will have to operate under the guise of being a man. One who is just as lust and blood hungry as the stories make her out to be.

There’s a buzzing inside Mizu’s muscles. One that builds under her skin, a yawning need that slowly grows and grows. She walks around her room. An animal in her enclosure. Frenzied with bloodied teeth.

The sun sets and the feeling doesn’t go away. The guards haven’t changed posts yet, and Mizu decides it’s time to test her stealth. The darkness is a wide expanse contrasted by the sparkling snow and flickering sparks from the lanterns. No one notices her when she dips into the darkness. The snow doesn’t crunch under her feet as she walks into the open night.

Mizu remembers passing a training set-up when she was forced to go see Taigen. Her thoughts perk up at the name. A stain on her mind. She moves quickly over a small stream that leads into a large pond. Forces herself to forget broken ribs, cut cheekbones, and a large swollen eye.

The training grounds aren’t guarded by anyone. A flat expanse of dirt and snow and sludge. It’s hardly anything befitting of royalty. Must be for the training guards, Mizu thinks.

She reaches for her sword and feels her chest hum at the feeling of it against her fingers. She unsheathes it and watches it glint in the moonlight that peeks through the thin puffy clouds. There’s no more pain that Mizu can feel once she starts slashing through the night air. The buzzing that had now turned into waves of anxiety dulls with each swing. She grins at the feeling.

The snow that had sat atop the ground was now pushed or stomped away by Mizu’s training. She parries and dips and dodges under imaginary enemies in quick succession. She could feel her breath when she cut through the air with a skillful advance. Her shoes are going to be caked in dirt on the walk back, yet the feeling of wielding her sword made her forget everything.

It was silent with the exception of her puffs of breath with each swing. Just her and her sword in the quiet night.

Until she felt eyes on her. Had been feeling eyes on her for the past few minutes. She kept up her act of not knowing, peeking glances around her surroundings and trying not to react.

She finally spotted her at the edge of the horse stalls after her mistimed attempt at getting a better look. The wind blew her dark hair through the air. A flag of surrender that smeared against the falling white snow, giving her away instantly.

Mizu attacked her imaginary pursuer once more before sheathing her sword. The act wasn’t up yet. She sighed and stretched before she walked slowly back to where she came from; sharply turning a corner and waiting, waiting.

Princess Akemi was shorter than Mizu and softer where Mizu was rough. Mizu could feel this on impact. Her arms caught the princess as she slammed into Mizu’s chest. With the weight of another person, Mizu clutched harder onto Akemi to avoid tipping over.

But suddenly, Akemi pushed and they were falling onto the ground together.

The wind knocked out of Mizu’s chest and she coughed with the added weight of Akemi atop her. Quickly, she flipped them over and Mizu pinned the princess’s wrists down. Her hips shifted and then it was just the two of them. Hips aligned and eyes locked onto one another. Snow fell and melted onto Akemi’s forehead and hair. Looking into her eyes, Mizu searched for any ill intent and only found confusion followed by surprise and then anger.

“Get off of me!”

༄༄༄༄

Akemi didn’t mean to eavesdrop. In fact, she was trying to obey her father in order to let his guard down so she could suggeest an alternative to her seemingly set-in-stone marriage. Hoping to soften his heart, Akemi had hoped that she could try one more time to convince her father that Taigen was the one she was meant to marry.

Instead, she had heard the giggles and gasps of the royal concubines intertwined with grunts and groans that sounded familiar as she walked through an empty part of the palace. Akemi’s father had been careful in choosing where to relocate the samurai after her failed attempt at a deal, but she figured he would be placed closer to her father instead of next to Akemi’s quarters.

The sounds only amplified the longer Akemi stayed. Yet, she stuck to the corner of the hall and made sure to duck when the concubines were finally dismissed. She couldn’t hear much outside of more grunts and low chatter as she had waited. Someone shifting, another standing, and finally unified footsteps that abruptly stopped when the doors slid open.

A line of them left the room the samurai stayed in. One of which had looked properly wrecked. Rouge on her lips smeared into the white of her face. Her kimono had been messily re-tied and Akemi scowled at the state her hair was in. She knew that her father had concubines and she knew it was normal for other high ranking lords to have women that could please them outside of their wives. What surprised Akemi was the Samurai’s willingness to ask. Despite the very short time they had together, Akemi was convinced that the man was captured. Nothing short of a prisoner who was treated better only for looks.

Yet now, it felt intentional. The fighting, the bloodshed, and Taigen. Akemi felt her heart tug at the reminder before anger had quickly followed. A flash of the orange print of a scarf sunk into her mind. She watched the concubines stagger off, seemingly tired from the man’s ministrations. Her face flushed with the realization that that would be her soon—had been her already.

Akemi imagined the line of the man’s body against her own. Hard and rigid in the dips of Akemi’s waist. She remembers how he had grabbed at her hips to unleash the obi from around her waist. It felt like the ghost of a whisper now, but seeing the concubines leave left Akemi imagining every detail vividly. It played on her mind as she saw the man’s fingers gesture for the physicians to come in.

She left the hallway in a hurry. The squeaks beneath her feet from the wooden floors a distraction against her beating heart and rushing breaths. She could still fix this. She would just have to work against the man rather than with. Fortunately, she knew exactly what to do.

——

The royal library was awash in noon sunlight. Dust particles made Akemi rub her nose and the smell of paper calmed her instantly. As a child, she had always snuck into the library with the help of Seki. Her attendings had always scolded her for reading more than what a lady should read. But despite the barriers, she always managed to find her favorite section of the library: poetry.

She drifted there now, knowing that no one would be in this section until later in the day when the royal professors would come through. The collection was large, filling each cabinet and shelf brim to brim.

There wasn’t anything here that would help Akemi, but she needed some comfort. The path ahead was unknown and she knew better than anyone what uncovering secrets could do. So she stayed seated next to the renga before making her way to a separate section.

The scrolls and books here were bigger and held more importance. Important dates and stamped papers were neatly organized year by year. The largest of which were the ones before Japan became isolated. Akemi started there, the point where the thickness became smaller and smaller.

An hour or so into her search, she realized how clueless she was to the organization system the section used. She had been reading the same book through and through and couldn’t find a pattern. She thumbed through neighboring books and was finally starting to figure it out when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Akemi startled so hard the book fell from her hands. She winced, waiting for the book to fall, but instead it remained silent except for a soft surprised sound.

Seki held the book in his left hand. He looked curiously at Akemi before sagely commenting, “This isn’t the poetry section.”

“Seki!” Akemi felt a wave of relief at finding Seki instead of the book keepers, or worse, her father. She smiled and gestured for Seki to look at the specific row she was searching through, “You came just in time, I need help finding something.”

“Akemi, you aren’t supposed to be he—“

“Actually, I’m looking for someone” Akemi continued, dragging Seki with her to another row that had important figures.

“Akemi.”

She stopped then, looking up at Seki. His face had always been stern growing up, but Akemi could see the kindness in each of his lectures and recommendations. He cared for her throughout her childhood to now. She trusted him.

“I am going to be married to a terrible man. I need to find out more about someone he is after. Seki, please.”

Seki regards her. He doesn’t seem willing at first but he wavers for a second and Akemi knows she’s won when he sighs deeply and asks, “Who is this person?”

Akemi grins and recounts the story to Seki as she continues sifting through the books. Her fingers ache and her legs are cramping but she doesn’t stop. Convinced that if she doesn’t know by the end of the day, it’ll be a day longer to seeing Taigen again.

“Heiji Shindo is who he is seeking to kill.” Akemi explains. She’s still had no luck and is turning to another shelf when Seki grabs her wrist and stops her.

He had been silent the entire time she retold her story. She’d thought that maybe he was already aware which was why he wasn’t asking for more details or information. But the solemn look he gives her when she turns around already tells her what she needs to know.

“It is best not to get mixed into your father’s business. It is a dangerous game to play. One that you shall have no hand in.”

Akemi’s heart plummeted at that. However, her shock was quickly replaced by disbelief as she stepped back.

“I am already involved. I am being married off to this man, this beast! Don’t I have a say?”

She watched as Seki refused to answer. His eyes lingering on the space just past her face. The same expression her father would have to make her stop talking and leave. She was invisible.

She frowned. There was no reason for the sudden change in Seki’s attitude, and yet, Akemi stood there watching him urge her to not get involved. As if she wasn’t going to be wed to the man.

“If you won’t help me, promise me you won’t tell my father.”

Akemi knew she was playing a losing game trying to convince Seki. Therefore, the next best option would be to swear him to secrecy. She may be shy of twenty-three, but she still took promises to heart. As did Seki, she hoped.

The older man nodded. He had no more to say and no more interjections about Akemi’s research so he left quickly afterwards. Akemi counted to one hundred five times in complete silence to make sure Seki had kept his promise before she started back on the books.

——

The cold winter evening felt sharp against Akemi’s face. The contrasting warmth of the library that she had been stuck in all day had made her drowsy and hungry. In order to stay awake, she figured a walk would do her good. Yet, as she made her way through the outdoor portion of the palace, she heard rather than saw the swordsman in the distance.

Hiding behind the horse stalls, she was brought back to a state of awe that she experienced last night. Outside of the bloody battle and the shock and terror, the samurai was talented indeed. The shape of the samurai in action was like silk slipping off a hanger, calculated before becoming chaotic and beautifully twisting and turning in the air.

She watched as the man become progressively more powerful. But instead of the killing intent that she witnessed in the infirmary, it was more tragic and alluring. Almost like a painter’s brush in a manic state.

When the samurai finally finished, Akemi was determined to find out more about the man. Despite being enemies now, there was merit in knowing more about the man. She followed him through the snowy night, surprised at his lack of suspicion.

But as soon as she had allowed her hopes to rise, her body hit hard muscle and a sharp chin jammed into her head. Without thinking, she rammed forward, momentum pushing her farther. Her arms extended out and braced for impact.

Yet, when she opened her eyes, she was met face-to-face with the samurai. The snow outlined his face and stuck to his spectacles. His nose was red from the cold and puffs of white warm air left his mouth in pants.

The embarrassment curdled through Akemi before anger filled her chest like smoke.

“Get off of me!”

She tried to kick and punch, but found her hands and hips pinned by the man above her. She got ready to scream then, but the samurai must’ve realized this because he quickly brought Akemi’s wrist together in one grip before his now free hand clamped down on her mouth and nose.

The muffled scream that followed was barely heard. Especially since the man flexed his thighs around her waist and left her with little to no air. Akemi struggled nonetheless now that she knew of the samurai’s character. She wriggled and yelled, only quieting once she felt light-headed and the man leaned down to growl at her,

“Do you ever shut up?”

Akemi snarled back and attempted to bite the man’s hand. Yet, her mouth was too small and the man’s hand too large. His palm alone swallowed half of Akemi’s face.

“We seem to end up in the same position, huh?” The man stared down at Akemi, eyes dark. There was no humor in his words, “Don’t scream.”

The cold air rushed back into Akemi’s mouth and lungs once the man loosened his grip on her mouth and waist. She was heaving around the man’s gaze and when she could finally speak, she didn’t dare yell.

“What happened to Taigen.”

Akemi doesn’t know why it’s the first thing she says when there are a dozen more important questions in her mind. But the sight of the familiar scarf around his neck sends more anger through her. A jealous sort of fear that starts in her belly and extends outwards like a forest fire.

The man looks at his scarf then. Seems to understand the connection Akemi is making and tugs on it. The motion reveals the dark bruises on the edges of his jaw. Right where the hinge of the jaw begins and where the skin is thin. Akemi heats up further.

“You bed with whores!” It’s another stupid thing to say, but Akemi can’t help herself. She’s trapped underneath the man and she feels like on the brink of something. Teetering just on the edge of truth. If she can just get him to react, to say anything back, maybe she can escape.

He startles at the word and scowls down at Akemi. The orange tint of the spectacles hide none of his disguist.

“The scarf is mine. He gave it to me.”

A sinking feeling seats itself onto Akemi’s chest and she doesn’t know what to do except glare at the man above her. She hopes the expression of torment isn’t too noticeable.

“He wanted me to have it. Said it was special to him.” The man continues, bringing his face closer to Akemi’s despite her trying to look anywhere but up at him, “It was a parting gift since he’s as good as dead.”

The air shifts and Akemi meets the man’s gaze, shocked, “W-what? He’s dead?”

The man doesn’t answer. He shifts atop Akemi but she’s still too shocked to fight back now. Taigen, the man she loved, was dead. That meant that all of this, all of her fighting was for nothing. The sadness that swept over her was replaced with anger once more at the thought of the man above her being responsible for Taigen’s death.

“I hope the shogun finds you and kills you before you find your Heiji Shindo.” Akemi spits out, thrashing even harder before to no avail.

The sound of a sword slicing through the air and the cold press of metal against her chin is what stops Akemi. She’s already too familiar with the feeling of a blade against her skin, prickling and waiting to slice open her throat.

“You followed me and nearly got killed twice now for some doomed engagement?” The man scoffs above her, “Let me tell you this, princess, life isn’t about love or loyalty or promises. The quicker you figure that out the easier.”

He gets off her trembling body and sets the foot of his shoes into her chest, sword still pointed at her chin. She’s angry and heaving around the blade. Her options quickly become smaller but before she can do anything rash the man sighs and sheathes his sword and releases his foothold.

“Taigen isn’t dead. He’s injured—but he’s stubborn. Annoyingly so.”

Akemi’s surprise overwhelms her and she gasps. She puts her hand to her mouth and cries out his name. The man scoffs louder at the display and turns towards the nearby pond, completely disinterested.

“Oh Taigen.” Akemi whispers, hands digging into her kimono hem. She doesn’t bother to stop the samurai from leaving the scene, already more than done for the night.

She doesn’t stop to think about whether or not the samurai is lying, holding onto the belief that he wouldn’t lie. Not about something like this.