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webarebares · 8 months

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Back to Back

I wrote a little post TOTK Zelink fanfic a few days ago and wanted to post it here <3

Ao3 Link | Rated G | Word Count: 2,958

They sleep back to back. Link can feel Zelda breath through the night in two different patterns. The first one is offbeat. She goes through moments of holding her breath and then short breathing. She’s mentally turning herself inside out and upside down, and he can’t do anything about it. The second pattern goes off after maybe two or three hours of slight shifting and an occasional heavy breath. It’s steady. It’s quiet. It means she’s finally asleep.

Then and only then is when Link will close his own eyes to sleep. He could sleep right away, really. He likes to sleep a lot these days. But there’s a chance Zelda will slip out of bed to go for a short walk, and he gets to follow and tell her that he wasn’t sleeping anyways without lying. They spent so much time apart that he doesn’t want to spend any of it being dishonest.

It is a strange little relationship they both have. Preceding the first rise of Calamity Ganon, they never vocalized any deep feelings other than the one time Zelda said to him, “You are my best friend.” He didn’t even remember that until he made her the first meal she had in one hundred years. After that, Link stayed at the inn and Zelda stayed at his house until one day he fell sick, and she made him sleep in her (their?) bed to take care of him. He hasn’t slept elsewhere since.

They sleep back to back. Before the fall, before the loss of his arm, Zelda would wrap her arms and sometimes legs around him and fall asleep in an instant. Not every night, but Link liked to keep a hand on her waist or her back. When she was surely asleep, he’d give an experimental squeeze to know she was real and not a memory. She was living, and he could feel her under the hand that fought to bring her back.

Now, he tracks that she’s real through her breathing. The one week she had a stuffy nose was hell because she could go so long without letting out a single breath, and he was always on the brink of sitting up to check her pulse before she moved, and he knew she was alive. Maybe he’s too paranoid now. Whatever she replays in her head every night, he knows that she can’t tell her not to worry about it without sounding hypocritical. He worries just as much even though Ganondorf literally blew up before all of Hyrule’s eyes four months prior. He’s already worrying for the next fight in the next life and how he’s going to protect her then.

Since Hyrule is still going, that probably means he’s never failed. But maybe, maybe, maybe he will fail one day. One day he won’t be strong enough or dodge fast enough and then, then, then, he will fail her. He can’t tell if he already has because they sleep back to back.

Zelda sits up and right away, Link’s eyes fall wide open. Their loft is dim in the full moon, no longer red. Just like she has every other time, Zelda tries to slowly move to the end of the bed to get off without having to climb over him. He saves her the trouble of being sneaky and sits up, her neck quickly turning to him.

“Oh, Link,” she says. She doesn’t sound surprised. “I had a feeling you’d be awake. I am going to go on a stroll. Would you like to join me?” Link nods and gets his legs out of bed and slips his feet into his sandals. Zelda, wearing her white night dress, grabs her a blue coat from a hook in the corner and slips into her own sandals. Link bought her that coat recently, and she wears it often. Link’s pajamas are made up of a thin green long sleeve and matching pants. Zelda cut the right sleeve and sewed it into a neat fold, as well as his other clothes. He decides he doesn’t need his coat, but he makes a note to suck it up if it does get cold.

He settles the Master Sword on his back and follows Zelda down the stairs and out their front door into the cold air of the night. Goosebumps move up his arm, but he closes the door without going back for his coat. He doesn’t want to go back up and plus, Zelda is already at the suspension bridge. She’s always moved very fast, since they were teenagers. Get here, do that, now onto the next thing.

Recently though, she’s seemed to slow down. As if she’s afraid to make progress because she’ll be ripped away from her life again. Link doesn’t know how to communicate that he feels the same way. How to communicate that he’s waiting, cowering, and afraid. And still, he’d do it a third time, lose another limb, run straight into malice if it meant they’d get to sleep in the same bed. Even if it’s back to back.

They take the path through Hateno Village. It’s a calm quiet Link sometimes can’t believe exists in this world. If he listens too hard, he can make out sounds of monsters but really, he’s only seen Keese in the distance since it all went down. It makes it easy for him and Zelda to walk through Retsam forest in peace.

There’s enough light from the moon and stars to see them through late dusk as they venture into the trees. Link can make out mushrooms and stops to look at an ironshroom.

“Zelda,” he says her name. He doesn’t say it much. It’s only when he absolutely needs her attention. He wants it all the time.

“Yes?” She walks back a few steps to meet him. He crouches down lower and points at the mushroom.

He says, “Let’s bring the students to pick mushrooms. You can talk about the science part of it, and I can teach them a few recipes.” She smiles under the lighting they are given, and he cherishes it.

“I like that idea.” He likes the validation he gets from her. “We can do a few field trips now that the forests are safe.” Because their lives are a reality show for Hylia, they hear a wolf’s howl in the distance. Link immediately stands and puts his hand on Zelda’s hip, over her coat. They don’t touch as much as they used to before. It’s much rarer now. Just in moments like this or Zelda tying Link’s hair back for him. A lingering hand touch as they pass spices in the kitchen, Zelda picking lint off his shirt, Link taking grass out of her hair after she lays on it to cloud watch. Much rarer.

He doesn’t expect to hear her laugh, but he finds himself smiling with her. “Well, I think we can scope out for wolves in the morning before we bring them along. And the foxes will just flee. Oh, maybe you can catch a fox for us.” Zelda puts her fingers under her chin like she always does when she’s thinking. Link has copied her a few times, and she’s yet to notice it’s something she does. “Maybe next year when they’re a little older we can dissect a few things like fish or frogs. Wouldn’t that be exciting?” He nods.

She turns herself towards him and leans her hip more into his hand, and he’s basically holding onto her now. There’s no danger and still, he doesn’t want to let go. She starts talking about getting tools for dissections and tells him to remind her to ask Robbie about borrowing some. He listens because he loves to listen to her. She has so much energy even in the midst of the night. Her brain never stops.

“I think I’m getting ahead of myself again,” she says nervously. The excitement got sucked out of her with the realization. There it is. This fear of planning for the future.

“Who cares?” Link says. Maybe not the most comforting thing, so he tries to save himself “Plan ahead. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” She still sounds unsure, and her anxieties are the one thing Link can’t slash with a sword. It fills his chest with deep lament. “It should be fine.” Link realizes how close she is to him. He can see how her eyes change from enthusiasm to fear. The chili weather is nothing amidst all these trees and their proximity, but he feels cold for other reasons.

“I’m scared,” he says. Is he making this about him? Or has this always been about them, together? Zelda looks at him curiously, a tilt of the head and studying eyes. He’s not sure he’s ever admitted to something that can come across as weak. He’s been strong his entire life, and in order to balance out the weight of brute immortality versus humanity, he’s gone silent. Still, he knows he can speak all he needs to with Zelda. He can be vulnerable with her. “I’m scared it’s all going to happen again. And again. And again.” Zelda steps closer to him and brushes some hair that had fallen into his eye. “Maybe I can do it one more time in this life but after that? I only have one arm left.” He moves his hand off of her and wiggles his fingers in front of her face, making her giggle.

“It will not happen again,” she says to him. She takes his hand between hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Not now at least.” They hear two wolves howl in the distance, one right after the other. Maybe they’re looking for each other, and Link can’t find the danger in that. “But we’re going to worry about it forever, aren’t we?”

“And ever.” So much for being comforting. But it does feel good to get things out in the open. Zelda can figure out why he still takes the sword to school but maybe she’s always known. “How do we move on?” he asks.

“How we did the first time,” she shrugs. “How was that?”

“Dragon brain get you again?” he asks. She lets out a full laugh that comes from her stomach, and Link feels happy to be alive. Her hands still hold onto his, and he frees it to flick off a leaf that has fallen on her shoulder. Naturally, he then sneaks his hand past the open front of her coat and settles his hand over the waist of her nightdress. Touch. Laughter. Exploring. This is how they moved on the first time.

Zelda’s voice lowers to a whisper and she says, “I think we need to sleep at better hours. It isn’t good for us to sleep so little when we are already in such state. We slept so much that first year after the calamity.”

“Second year,” Link corrects her. “You were so excited to be out and about again that you ran yourself to the ground that first year. Then we forced you to sleep a little more, and your body had to play catch up.”

“I remember that,” Zelda says. She starts laughing under her breath. “I remember the one time I didn’t sleep for about two days, you made me get in bed and then fell asleep on top of me so I wouldn’t sneak off.” Link’s fingers involuntarily squeeze her waist. He’s so fond of her, truly.

“You can laugh, but I was so worried. I still am.”

“Please don’t worry. I’m safe even when you’re sleeping.” Zelda’s hands go into her coat pockets, locking Link’s hand inside of it. He’s not sure what to make of it. “Speaking of, you should really try to sleep even if I’m still awake. I know you refuse to fall asleep until I do, but I feel quite bad.” Link feels his face turn red. He didn’t think she knew.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s a habit.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t nag you about it. But I’d like it if you tried.”

“Would you sleep easier?”

“No.” She is honest as well. “My mind has to tire itself out first. Then I can sleep.”

“It’ll get easier,” is all he can muster to tell her. It’s not a lie. It’s not a desperate promise, either. It’s a fact.

“It will, won’t it?” she says with an air of calm. Her eyes go up to the sky that’s blocked by the tree they are next to. They move to Link and then down to the nook of his arm. She is almost too quiet when she asks something so bold, “May I ask, why don’t you hold me to sleep like you used to?”

Link can’t stop it from coming out of his mouth. “Oh.” He feels a little stupid for letting it slip out so fast because he sounds as stumped as she is. “I just.” This is so complicated. He should have kissed her years ago and every time he’s ever wanted, maybe it’d be easier. He tries to act like he didn’t think that.

“It’s okay if you need space. We’ve been through a lot, and you most likely got used to having a bed to yourself.” Link was the one that insisted he wanted to share beds with her when they got back four months ago. He knows that they grow a bit distant and weird after reuniting because they’re both processing so much, and he didn’t want to lose the one intimate connection he’d for sure have with her.

“I thought you were the one that wanted space.”

“I wish you gave me less.” Her eyes dance with his. Her mouth is in a thin line, so he knows this conversation is costing her all she has. Somehow, he is thankful.

His hand pulls her closer by the waist, and she steps into him. Her face is in his, and he can feel the warmth of her breath. “Like this?”

She can barely get the words out to confirm. “Exactly like this.” Link doesn’t waste another second and kisses her, Zelda wrapping her arms around him to place her hands on his back. He’s not cold at all anymore.

He pulls away to admire her before pressing another soft, chaste kiss on her lips. He tells her, “We should go home. And maybe get some decent sleep.” She agrees, and he grabs her hand, leading the way back to their home.

“We do this on and off,” she points out to him, holding their interlocked fingers up for a second. “We get closer and then when we survive a tragedy, we separate. I don’t like it. I never know how to act around you afterwards.” She sounds humored. “Not that I’ve known how to act around you even after all these years.” He was a fool to think he could stop her thoughts from spinning so fast with a kiss. He’s not upset about it, either. Somehow this is the most relaxed he’s felt in so long.

“I’m sorry.” He understands every word that comes out of her mouth. He knows her so well. They feel the same things in such a similar wavelenght, and he wonders if that comes with centuries of being reborn for the other. “I don’t think I’ve ever known how to act around you. You’ve always taken the reigns. Even today,” he says. “You go, I follow. But we can talk it all out. I’ll listen.”

“Are you okay with that?” She squeezes his hand as they enter the village. The sun is vaguely rising in the distance. They can catch a few hours of sleep.

“Okay with what?”

“Following me.” Zelda has felt guilt for this before, and he’s by her side because it feels right.

“I’m going to follow you into the next life and smile while doing it.” It’s the truth and although heavy and laced with dreadful knowledge, there is light in being in love.

“Despite it all?”

“Despite it all.”

They cross their bridge and enter their house. Zelda removes her coat, and Link leans the sword against the wall next to their bed. Baby steps.

The two slip under the covers, and Zelda and him are forehead to forehead. She plants on last kiss on his nose for the night and lets her arm lay over him, Link doing the same and resting his hand on her back.

Link decides to get it out before they fall asleep. “I love you. I want you to know that. I always have.”

“You always have?” Zelda’s eyes were closed, but she opens them just for this. The subtle grace of dawn is starting to dance through their window. They can sleep in with no worries. They don’t have to save the world anymore.

“I’ve loved you for ten thousand one hundred and seven years.”

“That’s a long time.” She’s smiling, looking at him fondly with a face he makes note to kiss every inch of when he gets the chance. “I’ll have you know I’ve loved you for ten thousand one hundred and eight years.”

“That’s a long time.” Joy comes naturally with her. He can sleep, but he gets more happiness in staring at her face. “Can you say it once before I fall asleep?” His body is starting to crash, but he’s trying to savor every moment of this without dreading a possible end.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He has to say it twice. “Just in case you didn’t hear it the first time.”

“So considerate,” she mumbles. They’re both asleep within minutes, nose to nose.

#stars writing #loz #zelink #the legend of zelda #totk

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genichisojo · 5 months

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Box of Matches

Rated: M (violence, implied sex) | Words: 12,312 | Azami/Shiba | Ao3 Link

Azami studied Shiba’s face closely as they were driven over to the ruckus of electricity and rubble. Shiba was concerned for Chihiro despite saying with full confidence the kid could handle Sojo. Kunishige’s kid. Basically, Shiba’s now, too. Five members of the Kamunabi were on their way to help neutralize the situation, but anything could happen in a matter of minutes. On the brink of war, minutes were never free.

Granted, the real war was over, yet the stitches remained blood soaked. It left the country in a fragile state and domestic terrorism was a greater threat when the enchanted blades were no doubt in dangerous hands. Azami had been a young man when the war started, and he came out alive along with Shiba. He wondered if he’d get to be old on days like those.

Shiba, much stronger than him at the time and maybe even still, did his part in the war so well. So marvelously well. Despite seeming overpowered, Shiba had grace most people did not have the guts to carry with them into a battlefield. He had many admirers and in between battles when any peaceful moment might be your last moment alive, there were many men and women who tried to approach him. Azami, still a nobody at a time, watched him from afar at their crowded camp and even when it could have cost him his life, his eyes found him on the battlefield always.

Shiba was rapid with his attacks and calculative as to take more enemy lives within less time. Every minute had to be worth something. Minutes were never free.

Azami tried to imitate him, but his sorcery style was too different from his. He was younger then, although only two years behind Shiba. But Azami hadn’t matured at the same rate. He was much louder and more rambunctious. He failed in stealth with his flair for the dramatics and stature, but he was excellent when it came to following orders and giving them out. The people in charge told him he had potential and to keep working but again, everyone only had eyes for Shiba and what he could do. And those damn enchanted blades.

He only ever saw Shiba laugh during down time with the onsite swordsmith, Kunishige who could repair katanas within a matter of minutes and who was the reason they were doing so well. If one of the enchanted blades needed maintenance, he was the only person alive who could do it. Shiba returning alive after each battle was a source of relief for everyone, but he could see it meant a lot to Kunishige. Azami wondered what was there, but he didn’t speak to either of them, so he kept watch instead. He was good at that.

The first night he formally met Shiba, it was during an overnight raid on their camp. Azami slept in the furthest corner of a large tent and woke up to half of his tent mates’ bodies mutilated and guts splattered about. Someone’s heart that had flown up, fell down and hit his shoulder. The war numbed him enough at that point, and he did not search for faces on their decapitated heads so as not to name the dead. He had one minute to prove it all. He maneuvered barefoot through their intestines to attack the stranger who had failed to kill them all in one go. Nobody could imitate Shiba.

Azami recognized the enemy’s uniform and then he heard screams. It was a timed attack. Where the fuck were the night guards? Dead probably.

Azami looked around the tent for survivors, and there was only two other men who were shaking and covered in the blood of their fellow soldiers in their corners of the tent. Azami made note to get them later and made his way outside. At the same time, Shiba walked out of his tent that was across from his with an enemy helmet in his hand. He was without a shirt, his chest covered in blood, but the people in his tent seemed to have gotten a grip on themselves and at least six men followed him.

Shiba met his eyes and Azami nodded. It was the first time they communicated without words.

For the next two hours, Azami helped Shiba clear out enemies that invaded their camp. He wasn’t sure why he felt so gravitated towards him at first. He told himself it was because he was the most valuable soldier they had. He’d lay down his life without second thought if it meant keeping Shiba alive and thus keeping their upper hand in the war. He had people back home he was doing this for. But the hand in the matter was that Shiba was sensational. And hot.

They left their enemy’s heads on sticks when they moved camps. Azami would’ve thought it was barbaric before he joined but it felt like the right thing to do as he and his fellow soldiers burned the chopped corpses of their fallen and called out their names like a closing ceremony song. They had to move location with haste and couldn’t take them with them or send them home. Azami saw Shiba crouch down by the fire to pay his respects, Kunishige also watching closely from behind.

Azami was trusted with more information as the weeks went on, and he was assigned to guard in the night given his bravery the night of the attack. It was nice to be acknowledged, but he did miss getting back from the battle or training and spend the minutes he had guaranteed doing something he chose. He was positioned on a makeshift watch tower some sorcerers threw together where he could crouch down and hide if needed. Three people fit in there, but he was alone for most of the night, looking out into the darkness of a wasteland and trying not to doze off.

Shiba climbed up the ladder one night when Azami least expected him. They still hadn’t had a full conversation, but Shiba at least knew Azami existed.

Azami leaned on the half wall and said, “Hello?” He sounded too confused and juvenile for his liking. Would he ever sound like a leader?

“Hello,” Shiba said as he fixed himself upwards and stood in front of him. “I came to leave you a message from the general.” He handed a note and a box of matches to him, the tip of his fingers grazing Azami’s palm.

“Oh. Thank you.” Azami expected him to leave right away, although he wanted him to stay. It got lonely in there, and he hated thinking that he might be spending his last few moments alive doing nothing, nothing at all. The moon was covered up by a cloud, and it left him in the dark. Still, he could feel Shiba’s presence hang heavy.

“You fight well,” Shiba tells him. Azami is thankful for the night. His ears and cheeks get hot, and he looks at Shiba with an open mouth. Him?

“Really?” Azami smiles like an excitable child. “Because I think you’re amazing. You’re worth a lot to this battle.” Shiba clears his throat, and Azami feels his heart fall into his stomach from embarrassment. He did it again. He got too jumpy.

But Shiba says, “Thank you. You’ve made yourself indispensable as well these last few weeks.” Azami could get high of the man’s compliments alone. “I appreciate you having my back in battle. Not a lot of people do because they think I can handle myself, but there were two moments where I could’ve died. And you got it covered.” Azami didn’t know if he was shitting himself because of this conversation with someone he admired as a whole or because he had no clue what instances he was even referring to. Still, he was noticed.

Azami was quieter that time and said, “Well. Like I said. You’re worth a lot. Like those enchanted blades.” Those enchanted blades.

“Ah. A fan of Kunishige’s?” Azami didn’t know what to make of the tone. Suddenly bored, suddenly backing up. He wanted to draw him back in.

“Not really. I don’t have use for katana.” Shiba laughed, and it was liquid gold to Azami. He wanted to pour the sound in a vial and store it for later.

Shiba told him, “I think we could be friends.”

“Good because it gets lonely up here,” Azami admitted to him. “Do they make you keep watch?”

“They make me watch Kunishige sometimes. He has a personal guard at all times even though I think he can handle himself. We have theories that the camp attack was a botched kidnapping attempt, but they didn’t count on my bout of insomnia.” Azami had heard that in passing, and he believed it. Kunishige’s blades were the main reason they were winning.

“Have you known Rokuhira long?”

“The longest,” Shiba answered. He sat down on the floor, his head just below the half wall. “I knew him before the war. We come from the same town. He has a wife back home, and I told her I would do my best to get him back alive.” A wife. Azami didn’t know why he liked hearing that.

Azami sat down as well, betting on a night of peace. He was technically allowed to sit and rest as long as he didn’t fall asleep. He was also with one of the most powerful sorcerers at camp. He oddly felt safe, something he didn’t even feel when he fell asleep in a tent full of soldiers. At least not anymore.

Shiba asked, “Do you keep a close eye on everyone on the battlefield or just me?” Azami felt himself get choked up and let out a scoff in defense of his embarrassment.

“I feel like I am best when I give people backup.”

“Really? Some people on top think you have the good markings of a leader. You hold back a lot.” Azami kept his mouth shut. What was this guy trying to do anyways? “I think so, too.”

“Are you always so loose with your compliments?” he found himself asking.

Shiba laughed at that. “No. Most people fish for them for hours.”

“What’s different about me then?” Azami ran hot, and Shiba made him feel like he had steam coming out of his ears. It felt like a schoolyard crush. It was unfair how pretty he was and how he was sitting right across from him.

“Like I said. I think we could be friends.”

So, they became friends. As the days went on, anytime Azami was assigned to night watch, Shiba would join him. Sometimes he had a message for him Azami would burn after reading, sometimes he had snacks and water that they let him pick out of the captain’s rations because of the favoritism. Sometimes, it was just Shiba, going to ask Azami questions about his life and offering tidbits about his. He was a lot funnier than he expected and sometimes a lot louder. He had a dramatic streak as well, and Azami wondered how he switched it off to keep cool during battle. During the day, Azami would join him and Kunishige for meals, but he held back a lot in conversation, envious of the amount of history between the two. He had felt better watching from afar, but the new proximity to Shiba felt so good. It was an unspoken protection.

It was almost a month of a strange stalemate, and their camp could not wait around forever. The enemy was worn out and trying to take the time to recover, which meant they only needed a few more final shoves to fall. They assigned a few soldiers to go scout out their location, and they planned to attack them soon afterwards. Shiba was assigned, and he went to find Azami a few hours before he left. Azami couldn’t hide that he was upset about not getting sent as well.

Shiba had sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder in the makeshift tower. It’d be one of the last times they’d find each other there. Shiba had inched closer each night that he spent up there, and Azami did the same. He didn’t know if he was so overwhelmed with jealousy, the anxiety of incoming final battle, or what Shiba leaving was uncovering.

“They should’ve let me go,” Azami pouted. Shiba didn’t dote on him, but the situation amused him, so he at least listened. “I could provide backup so well.” Azami didn’t complain to the general or his captain, trying to stay on their good side, but the disappointment was obvious to Shiba.

“I think it’s a compliment that they let you stay here and keep guard,” Shiba told him. “They count on you keeping camp protected.”

“They should’ve let you stay then.”

“They’re counting on me guarding the group that is going. They’re better strategists than soldiers.”

“So, nobody is going to back you up?” Azami mumbled. He looked at Shiba from the corner of his eye. Shiba had this habit of turning his head fully to him, looking intently. Azami couldn’t handle it. Even in the night he was undyingly handsome, and it was overbearing. He was too pretty to look at.

Shiba whispers, “Is that why you want to go? To keep me safe?” The question is innocent enough and still at the same time, full of implications. They both know Shiba is strong enough to protect himself and a group of people. Azami stayed silent. “Azami.”

“That is why I want to go.” It was a sick confession. Neith of them moved or said anything. The distant noise of the camp getting ready for bed and the wind howling through the flat fields filled the space between them. Shiba moved in and kissed Azami’s cheek.

He told him, quieter than the wind, “I’ll be fine.” Azami felt strong enough to look at Shiba, to look from his eyes to his lips to his eyes and to his lips and then he tackled him to the ground. He pressed his mouth hard on his, feeding a hunger that had been looming inside of his body. A hunger made up of loneliness, war, and Shiba’s shield.

Shiba kissed back, holding onto the back of Azami’s shoulders, letting the other man’s desperation lead them. Azami only broke apart to whisper and command, “Come back alive.” Shiba couldn’t even answer before Azami was kissing him again. Azami felt like a fool doing so and still, he let himself be the butt of the joke. Shiba was smiling and holding onto him and that was all that mattered in that minute.

They kissed until Azami realized Shiba had other duties to fulfill. Shiba didn’t seem in any rush to get them done, but Azami liked that Shiba was on the general’s good side. Some of the privileges rubbed off on him by association like hot bath water and new blankets. Azami sat up, straddling Shiba’s lap. He ran his hands through his black hair, breathless. He lets Shiba see his other eye for once. He looked down and watched Shiba smile.

Azami told him, “You should go.” He moved off Shiba and left a foot of space between them, hugging his knees to his chest. He felt a little dazed and that angst from earlier was still in his stomach. No matter how hard he kissed him, Shiba would still be leaving and risking his life.

Shiba sat up and smirked, “Are you shy now, Azami?” He rolled his eyes.

“No. But you should go before you get in trouble. You leave soon.” Shiba stood and walked to Azami, crouching down to his level. He grabbed Azami’s face in his hands and planted one long, last kiss on his mouth.

“I’ll see you later.” It was a promise. That’s how Azami saw it. Shiba got up and headed to the ladder to climb down, and before his head was almost gone, he asked, “Is your skin always so hot?”

“Yes. You’re not special.” Azami’s response seemed to humor him. He made him laugh one more time before teleported at the bottoms of the ladder and left.

But Shiba was special. The weight of what they did was heavy on his shoulders through the night and when he traded posts with another soldier, he carried it to his communal tent where he avoided learning everyone’s full names. He slept in the corner until late in the morning and woke up with Shiba’s name on his lips. He was gone by then.

The days went by slowly. He had his meals with Kunishige who he got to know better, but their common worry was Shiba. He wondered if Kunishige could sense something between them. Azami liked asking him about his wife because he’d talk nonstop until the meal was over. Azami had people to return to, sure. But he was worried about the man who was supposed to be there with him.

Azami had other friends on camp, all soldiers worth protecting. He’d lay down his life for the cause and for their fighters, but he didn’t think any of it mattered as much as Shiba now. He missed him terribly, and the feeling made him sluggish. He wished he had it in him to wash it off the next morning like most soldiers who had romantic rendezvous did. Maybe he was still a kid. How much more death did he have to see?

A little over a week had gone by and Azami was in the watch tower. He looked off into the distance for hours. He got better at fighting off sleep because he knew he’d get to sleep in peace until noon. The general and colonel liked him because he never caused problems and the rest of the officers associated him with Shiba and Kunishige. It all felt like one big uncomfortable summer camp with the stalemate. Their wounded were back on their feet, and they got an influx of new soldiers that hadn’t seen the entrails of human beings.

Azami felt a hand on his back, and he was about to twist them into a headlock, hand ready to attack, but he heard his damn voice. “Hey.” Azami turned on his heel and found Shiba’s face in front of him.

“Shiba,” Azami said, almost in disbelief. Why did the idiot have to sneak up on him? His heartbeat was out of control. “I thought you were dead.”

“You told me to come back alive.” Azami searched Shiba’s face for any new scars. There weren’t any. His clothes were the same ones he was wearing when he left, only dirtier from days of sleeping on trees and dirt. Did his hair get longer?

Shiba put his hands on Azami’s shoulders and pulled him down until they were both out of view. Leaning over him, Shiba kissed him. It was softer than the manner Azami kissed him. There was no urgency. Just for that night, they both knew they weren’t going to die. They felt sure of it. Azami would bet money on it.

Shiba’s lips hovered over his as he spoke, “They gave me a reward for this mission.”

“What is it?” Azami couldn’t help but kiss the corner of Shiba’s mouth. He didn’t know where to put his hands. He put one on the crook of Shiba’s arm and the other stayed on his own chest, over his heart that was still thrashing about.

“They gave me a tent to myself. You should come by when you’re done keeping guard.” Azami’s breath hitched for a moment. Shiba’s eyes scanned him, as if searching for something in his expression. The full moon wasn’t hiding behind a cloud anymore.

“What if someone sees?”

“We won’t be the first people here who aren’t subtle.” It was true.

“I won’t know which one it is.”

“It’s a small new blue one on the North corner. You can’t miss it.” Azami’s lips pressed another peck on his skin. Shiba smiled and let out a small hum from his throat. They were both touch starved. They could both be dead in a week.

“Do you have to leave right now?”

“I have to go report the rest of my findings to someone else. I teleported away for a moment to come see you. They’re about to realize I’m not there.” Azami didn’t know what to make of it. Shiba had at least gone to sleep thinking about him while he was away and that meant a lot to him in that moment. He didn’t like it too much, but he couldn’t discard it. Shiba kisses his mouth goodbye. “I’ll see you when the sun comes up.”

Azami abides by that. He’s impatient for his substitute to show up and as soon as they are a few yards away, he gets down from the watch tower and heads to the north side of their camp. Sure enough, a smaller blue tent was pitched up further away from other tents but close enough to keep an eye on them. He was with all the newer recruits.

He walked through the entrance and found Shiba laying down on a mat, facing the entrance. He was wide awake, with two thick blankets up to his neck. He looked exhausted and still he smiled when he saw him. Shiba sat up and the blankets fell, exposing his bare chest. If Azami didn’t learn that Shiba slept without a shirt during the raid, he would’ve thought that was a setup to kill him.

Shiba said, “Look at that, you did find me.” He patted the space on his mat next to him, and Azami went and settled himself next to him. It was newer and softer than anything Azami had slept on since he enlisted.

“They put you near all the newbies,” Azami pointed out. Shiba watched him closely before he lifted a hand to move his bangs, uncovering his other eye. They stayed quiet in that moment until Shiba put his hand at Azami’s hip. The air between them was thick. The lack of sleep and some form of excitement all buzzed through Azami’s body.

He didn’t expect Shiba to say, “We should get some sleep.” Somehow, he felt relief and disappointment at the same time. But they were both so tired. He hadn’t slept in almost a full day, and Shiba hadn’t slept since his return. Shiba kissed him goodnight and then he laid down his head on the pillow next to him and covered their bodies with the blankets. With his back to Shiba’s chest and Shiba’s hand on his stomach, Azami fell asleep almost immediately.

Azami woke up alone in the tent, tucked under the blankets. There was loud conversation outside, and he rolled over into the middle of the mat. He didn’t feel Shiba leave, and he felt a little upset that had been left there alone. He decided to get up and go to his own tent to get ready for the day. He passed a lot of newer faces that were in high spirits. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of them would remain at the end of the war.

He wandered around camp afterwards, and he knew he had slept through something. The veterans in his group had grim expressions on them and if there was laughter anywhere, it was always coming from the newer soldiers. Azami couldn’t find Shiba, so he went to look for Kunishige in his work area in the middle. If anyone tried to go for his neck, they’d have to go through the entire camp. Kunishige wasn’t allowed on the outskirts without additional protection.

Kunishige was sitting on a tree stump, writing a letter on paper against his lap. He looked up when Azami’s shadow stretched over his handwriting. He smiled when he noticed it was him and said, “Hey. I thought it was someone here to bug me.”

“What’s going on around here?” Azami asked.

“You haven’t heard?” Kunishige sounded surprised. Azami shook his head. “We’re going to battle in three days. We’re moving camp closer to their site at sunrise tomorrow. They keep calling me up to see the general, but I told them I’d go after I’m done with this letter. They’re probably just going to tell me how they’re going to keep me safe.”

“They really like you,” Azami noted.

“Not really,” Kunishige said. He scratched at the top of his head and looked around. Nobody was listening to them. “They really like Shiba. Me? They just want to stay on my good side so I can keep doing them favors after the war is over.”

“Will you?” Azami didn’t ever think that the officers were trying to stay on his good side. What could Azami offer them after the war? The point was to end it.

“No. I’m going to be a house husband,” he said earnestly with a grin. “But they’re betting that if they keep me alive, I’ll live long enough to want to repay them. I already did my part, so they’re going to be disappointed when I take the blades with me.” Azami didn’t think a lot about the blades. Their power was overwhelming, and Azami felt like a pawn in their glory.

“I don’t know what I’d do after all of this.” Azami’s mind went to Shiba. What would he do?

“You’re good. They probably have a place for you somewhere.” Azami wasn’t sure Kunishige had ever seen Azami in action. The night of the raid, Kunishige was taken into hiding with a colonel and the general. Kunishige must have noticed the confusion because he added, “At least that’s what Shiba said. And he doesn’t give out compliments. He just says stuff like, ‘You can keep yourself alive. Keep your hair that way. You didn’t mess up today.’ But he said you were good in battle, so I believe it.” Azami’s usual protection from the dark wasn’t available, so he turned his head towards the ground to hide the redness on his cheeks. Shiba did think highly of him.

Azami asked, “Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him today but probably with the general.” Azami said farewell to Kunishige and left him to his letter writing. He made his way to the east side of the camp where Azami usually guarded at night and where the general’s large tent was pitched up. He thought about walking inside before Shiba walked out, a solemn look on his face. Azami stood at a distance as Shiba walked closer to him and eventually, he looked up and noticed him staring. A small smile appeared on his face.

Azami met up with him and walked at his side, Shiba asking, “Have you ate?”

“No.”

“Let’s go eat.” They make their way to the tent that was a makeshift cafeteria. They had tried having designated lunch hours, but it was too hectic to keep up with during the brunt of battles and people disobeyed either way, so they let the soldiers eat whenever they pleased. Azami guessed the schedule would return when they moved camps.

They sat down to eat their usual bowl of meat and rice, generous rations because of Shiba. Shiba was liked by everyone, and it made Azami a little envious. Not because he wanted to be liked by everyone himself but because he wanted to be the only one to see Shiba so closely.

“Have you heard?” Shiba asked from his spot next to Azami.

“Yes.”

“They’re putting me in charge of an elite squad near the frontlines. I said you had to be in it.” Azami smiled, feeling grateful. It also meant that that colonel did see potential in him to climb ranks in the future.

“Really? What’s our mission?”

“Staying alive.”

“Shiba.”

“I’m serious. Stay alive and don’t make me regret bringing you up with us.” Azami would just have to prove himself.

Azami decided to sleep in his own tent that night, but it felt like a mistake the second he laid down. He tossed and turned for half an hour before giving up. He got up and walked out of the tent where he could tell a few other people were still awake.

He trekked the path to Shiba’s tent, walking past soldiers preparing for the transfer in small groups, getting the wagons loaded. He hoped nobody would ask him for help because although he wasn’t tired, he wanted to lay down and rest. He also wanted to see Shiba.

He made it to Shiba’s tent and wasn’t sure what to do. He tugged on the entrance a few times and waited until Shiba’s voiced call him in. He looked surprised to see Azami when he walked through. Without saying anything, Azami fixed the tent closed. He’s not sure if people saw him go in or not, but he didn’t really care.

Shiba sat up on his mat and said, “What brings you here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Azami said, standing with his hands at his side. Him and Shiba watched each other, Shiba eventually tapping the space next to him. Azami felt relief even though he knew Shiba wouldn’t reject him. Still, it was nice to be right about something.

“Lucky for you, I stay up quite late,” Shiba said and scooted over to let Azami fit better next to him. Azami laid his head down on the end of the pillow, looking up at the top of the tent. Shiba moved his head to look down at Azami, and he smiled. “I’m glad you came. I was thinking about how cold it was without you.” He placed a hand flat on Azami’s stomach, knowing the effect it would have.

Azami’s skin flushed under him, and it made Shiba grin.

“We have to be up early tomorrow,” Azami deflected. “We need to rest.” Shiba leaned down and kissed Azami gently.

“I know. Shut your eyes. I have some things to mull over in my head.” Azami listened to him and closed his eyes, feeling Shiba stack the blankets on the both of them. He drifted to sleep almost immediately and although war had made him a light sleeper, any time he’d stir, Shiba would rub his back and stroke his hair and send him back into a dreamless state.

They moved camps the following morning at dawn like Kunishige said they would. Azami had been relieved of night guard duties but even an hour after they settled in, Azami got recruited to help explain strategies to newer recruits. He could sometimes feel Shiba watching him from a distance at dozens of soldiers surrounded him, grabbing onto every word as if it could guarantee their safe return. They were fired up and ready to go, and Azami wondered if he used to burn like that.

Their elite squad was made of one enchanted blade holder and three other soldiers that Shiba respected, and Azami thought were okay. He didn’t trust them to individually protect Shiba, so he assigned himself the task. They had a mission only Shiba and the enchanted blade holder knew the details of, and the rest were there for backup. Although the secret made Azami itch, he knew it was for plausible deniability in case of a kidnapping.

Shiba told Azami to take his things to his tent, including his mat, as to not raise too much suspicion. But his old, flattened out mat was left discarded to the side, and he let Shiba run his fingers through his hair before they fell asleep for the last few days of peace. Shiba kissed him chastely and never pressed kisses on anywhere lower than his jawline. Azami liked it. He liked being held without feeling like he had to get naked to return the favor. The fire in him he felt towards Shiba was calm, like the small flame of a candlestick. They kept each other warm.

It was when they marched towards the enemy camp that Azami recognized the hole he had dug himself in. He had to remind himself the entire way over that if he could defend Shiba before, he could do it again. He was in full uniform and well rested. He wasn’t able to eat a lot that morning, but Shiba made him eat an apple he chopped up for him. With their squad besides him, an enchanted blade holder, and his own strength, Azami was sure that they could get Shiba back safe.

The enemy army had been caught unprepared, and Azami hoped as the battle started getting bloodier that it would not last longer than a day. But they underestimated how much recruitment they had done in a month, and they were taken aback by their size. Still, they were stronger. With the enchanted blades, it was undeniable. They were shedding blood to shed blood. Azami wanted them to quit. He needed them to quit.

Sometime in the battle, Shiba called out to their squad that they were going to walk right into their camp. None of them asked questions and followed him across the sidelines of the battle until they walked in. They started getting attacked by panicked enemy soldiers who weren’t expecting them to barge past them like they didn’t exist. The enchanted blade kept them at bay with fire that Azami noticed wasn’t summoned to kill, it only kept them away. Still, he was alert for anyone who could get by it.

Eventually, Shiba barked at a group that tried to enclose them in a circle, “I’m not here to kill on your own camp. Go tend to your wounded and leave us alone.” The enemy soldiers didn’t look like they believed him. The fire from the blade stopped, leaving nothing between them. Two dozen enemy soldiers surrounded, and Shiba looked annoyed. “Where is your general?” Nobody answered him. “I am not going to kill him, either. Where is he?”

Eventually, a soldier motioned for them to follow him and Shiba thanked him. He started walking again, their squad following close behind. Azami knew it was going to happen when he saw someone’s arm get raised from the corner of his eye. He threw himself on Shiba and knocked him to the ground as an attack went over their bodies and hit the soldier who offered to guide them. It cut his body in half.

The enchanted blade’s fire started up again and then ended within seconds.

The camp fell silent.

They walked until they found a grand tent in the center, and they knew they had found Shiba’s target. He marched into the tent of the general of a the newly dead men alone. Azami felt nervous not having him in sight, but he knew Shiba was stronger than a general who wasn’t on the battlefield with his men. After what felt like a full hour, Shiba walked out with a letter in his hand. He stood at the entrance of the tent and said, “Consider it,” before walking them back.

He handed a letter to a soldier at the camp entrance who didn’t register they were enemy soldiers until after he read the note. Shiba simply said, “Orders from your general.” The enemy soldier didn’t give them any more attention and called out for people to call for a retreat.

It was not the end though. The enchanted blade user shot a blast of red fire into the sky and from a distance, Azami saw their own soldiers start their retreat.

Someone in their squad asked, “Is it over?”

Shiba answered with lament, “Not yet. Just enough time to treat the injured and rest our dead. We’re fighting again tomorrow in the morning. Get good sleep. We’ll be visiting him again, and he will either make it easier or much harder.”

Their squad helped carry in injured people for treatment and collected bodies to burn two miles away from their camp. Azami saw smoke on the enemy’s side in the distance, and he assumed it was for the same purpose. He thought about the charred bodies they left behind who were already halfway to ashes. It didn’t take long before the crackle coming from the corpses became too much and he headed back to camp with Shiba and Kunishige.

They ate dinner in silence, the newer recruits much quieter than the day before. Azami missed their laughter and innocence. It felt like a bigger loss than anything else that day. Kunishige had never been out to the battlefield, but he spent the entire day at camp trying to forge through the screams of the injured. He didn’t have much to say, either.

The sun had barely gone down when him and Shiba had said goodnight to Kunishige and made their way to the blue tent. Shiba closed the entrance and secured it shut, Azami watching him, allowing himself to breathe. He did it. He kept him alive for another day.

Shiba walked over to him, and hugged him, placing his forehead on his shoulder. It took a few seconds for Azami to react, but he put his arms around Shiba’s back who let out a deep, content sigh. “You stayed alive.”

“You told me to.” Azami began running a hand through the back of Shiba’s hair.

“You saved my life again.” Shiba sounded embarassed about it as if it weren’t the job Azami had assigned himself since day one.

“I don’t remember doing it before, so I’ll count it as the first time.” Shiba moved his head off his shoulder and met his eyes.

He whispered to him, “I remember.” He kissed the corner of Azami’s mouth, placing his hands on each side of his hips. Azami felt his fingers press into his skin through the clothes. He started sweating, and he blamed it on his body always running hot. “And when I got tackled down, I knew it was you. Nobody else on that squad would protect me like that.” Azami turned his head up to the roof tent, trying to escape Shiba’s eyes. “You could’ve just yelled out. I’m pretty good at teleporting away in last second situations.”

“It just seemed like that was the right thing to do.”

Shiba placed his mouth over his jaw and spoke, “My life is not worth more than yours. You know that, right?” Azami’s throat was dry. He felt so childish. He has been losing his grip for a while. Maybe since the night most of his tent mates died. Maybe since he saw his first corpse and the power of a single enchanted blade.

“You do more for the war than you realize.” Azami felt embarassed. He never thought twice about defending Shiba until the bitter end. He didn’t think he’d confront him about. Shiba’s fingers tugged lightly on his clothes.

“When all of this is over, nobody who didn’t live through this hell is going to know my name. And I’m okay with that because I have a good feeling I’m going to survive. But I don’t need survival if it’s going to cost you your life. I can’t stand selflessness.” The words cut through Azami. He forced himself to look at Shiba who still had a firm hold on his hips. He was serious.

Azami asked, “So what do you want me to do?”

“What I asked of you the first time. Stay alive and don’t make me regret picking you for the squad.” Shiba’s hands moved to the buttons of Azami’s shirt and kissed him. He whispered, “Please don’t die and make me regret it.” Azami’s cheeks got hot in the darkness of the tent, and he nodded.

“Say it.” Shiba moves his hair again, exposing his full face. “Please.”

Azami assured him, “I won’t die.” Whether Shiba believed him truly or not, he relaxed his shoulders and kissed Azami again. It was closer and hotter than before, and Azami let him forget the war for just a moment to be his.

He let Shiba remove his clothes before his own joined the pile on the floor as well. It was a tender and slow night with very little speaking. Shiba only whispered that when he felt himself almost die, there was regret of not having Azami at least once. Azami was only capable of watching and listening, enamored by Shiba and overtaken by the built up longing. They knew that when it was over, they would fall asleep and go to war.

Azami’s naked body rested on top of Shiba’s when they were done, Shiba lazily running his fingers up the muscles of Azami’s back, occasionally focusing on a healed scar Azami had. He felt himself doze off and then snap back when he remembered that the soft moment might not be repeated again. They could both make all the promises they wanted, but living wasn’t a guarantee.

Shiba whispered after what felt like a few hours, “You’re still not asleep?” Camp was quiet, but there were hisses of people who could not fall asleep outside of their tent. It was impossible to sleep after your first battle despite the exhaustion. You weren’t used to seeing horrors every time you shut your eyes.

“No.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” Shiba asked. Azami awoke fully. He shifted his body to be abdomen to abdomen with him. He laid his head on his arms, gazing up at Shiba. “I knew that’d get you.”

Azami smiled, “Well. What is it?”

“Do you know the Kamunabi? They’re going to ask us to join if we live past tomorrow.” Azami always felt like Shiba knew more about the government and war plans than he led on.

“Live past tomorrow?”

“War ends tomorrow. Don’t ask how I know.”

“Okay.” Azami murmured. He believed him “Are you going to join?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t have anything else to do. I think I can do good there.”

Shiba chews on his words for a moment. “I think so, too.”

“Why?” Shiba smirks and runs his thumb through Azami’s eyebrow, getting him to close his eyes.

“I think you’re everything the government wants. Brute strength. Great sorcerer. Very obedient. Selfless.” I can’t stand selflessness. “They’d never imagine you betraying them.”

“I’m taking it that you’re not joining?” Azami tried to fight against the sleep Shiba’s touch was inducing. He let out a small yawn.

“Haven’t decided yet. There’s something else, but it’s a secret.” Him and his secrets.

“Will you tell me?”

“Live past tomorrow, and I’ll tell you. Now go to sleep.” Azami hated that Shiba was right about obedience. He fell asleep right away.

Whatever was supposed to end the war, didn’t happen. Shiba looked out of it when they returned from their second visit to the enemy camp, Azami carrying the corpse of one of their squad members who didn’t make it. He couldn’t leave her in the enemy camp, and he took turns with someone else in their squad on the last stretch of walk through the battlefield.

The same thing happened. Shiba and their squad fought their way to the general, and Shiba spoke to him for an hour before he walked out looking agitated. Their enchanted blade holder spoke to the general as well and walked out looking grim with another paper to call for a retreat.

After their squad got their fallen member to their makeshift morgue, Shiba grabbed Azami by the wrist and in the middle of all the commotion, teleported him away. Azami had never teleported anywhere, and it caught him off guard and made him a little dizzy. He leaned over on Shiba who caught him and helped him stay standing.

“Sorry,” Shiba said. “It was now or never.” Azami blinked a few times and looked around. They were in some woods they passed a few miles before their camp. They were going to return. “I wanted you to hear it from me. Kunishige also thought it’d be best.” Azami wondered at what point did Shiba have private conversations with Kunishige because Azami had been at Shiba’s hip for the last few days. Perhaps in those moments of sleep where he felt a little colder.

Azami didn’t know what to make of the situation. Shiba looked worried so all he could do was reassure him that he wasn’t angry. “It’s fine. Tell me, then.”

The six enchanted blades were heading into the battlefield at the same time. It was proposed by the government who was tired of funding the war and wanted to move onto other things. Kunishige also saw it as a disguised attempt to get their hands on the enchanted blades sooner, and Shiba agreed.

“That’s going to be a massacre,” Azami said to him, eyes wide. The max amount of enchanted blades they’ve had out were two as the wielders got used to the powers and unlocked new abilities, sometimes injuring or even killing their own people that were in proximity. “I don’t even think the six wielders could be on the same field attacking without accidentally killing each other. Experienced or not. Those blades are monstrous in power.”

“I know.” Shiba pulled on Azami’s hand and brought him in closer, standing toe to toe with him. “That’s why we tried to get their general to stand down, but he refused.”

“So, what about us?”

Shiba raises an eyebrow. “You and me?”

Azami blushed and looked down at the dirt. Why would he be thinking about that in the middle of life or death? “No. The army. Our comrades.”

“We’re not going in.” Shiba looked a little entertained by the misunderstanding. Maybe outside of war he was more of a loudmouth and a comedian. There were traces of it left in him, but it was hard to be oneself in that environment. Azami wondered if they’d still like each other after it was over. “We’re all going home as soon as possible.”

“That’s it then? They go obliterate the enemy, and we go home, hands clean?”

“Kunishige doesn’t,” Shiba said in a low voice. He looked around again, but they were certainly alone. Shiba didn’t let go of his hands and as tense as the situation was, it was a gentle hold. “He made those weapons. Even if he is not the one to use them, the death of an entire army is going to be on his shoulders. He can’t ever make that right, but he can prevent it from happening again.” Shiba kept his eyes on Azami, and then Azami understood.

“Is this where that secret comes in?”

“You don’t have to be part of it. I know you’re a stickler for the rules, and we’re going to be breaking many. I just ask that you keep it a secret.”

“What if I say no? What was the point in telling me?”

“It wouldn’t have felt right not to include you.”

“And if tell?”

Shiba smiled. “You won’t. I trust you.” Like Azami was sure that Shiba wouldn’t reject him, Shiba was sure that Azami wouldn’t betray him.

“Okay. Tell me.”

Shiba explained to him how a few senior members of the Kumanabi that were going to be in charge of collecting the enchanted blades were going to “lose” them. Only the blades would be returning to Kunishige who would be faking his and his wife’s deaths with their help as well. The thing was that after that, they were no longer going to pull any strings for them. If they got caught, they would do nothing to help and deny everything.

Shiba was to join the Kumanabi to continue to collect intel and warn Kunishige of any moves.

Azami asked, “Do you want me to join so I can tell you intel as well?”

“I want you to join because you wanted to.” Maybe that’s why he had told him in advanced. He wanted to know Azami’s genuine wants. “I’m joining because I have to. But this way we’ll continue to see each other. We just can’t be friends in public because if me or Kunishige ever go down, I don’t want to take you down, too.”

Azami didn’t know how to respond to any of what Shiba had said. They were going to betray the government before they were even hired. Could Azami do it, truly? He was loyal but to who?

Azami stepped forward and kissed Shiba, holding his face in between his hands. Shiba kissed back until Azami pulled his head back and looked at him. He knew who he was loyal to. It was undeniable- even if one day it’d get him killed.

“I’ll help however I can, too. Rokuhira is my friend, and I also believe the blades would be better off in his hands.” Shiba let out a breath of relief and kissed Azami’s forehead with a quickness that left him a little dizzy.

“I’m glad. It might be a while before I see you, but I’ll see you again.” Shiba looked up at the clouds moving overhead. “I should get us back soon.”

“Yeah,” Azami said quietly. Shiba and him kept eye contact for almost a full minute before Shiba knocked him back with a kiss and fucked him on the spot.

Azami was approached to join the Kumanabi as he packed up what little he had. He agreed without hesitation and was given a letter with information. He had a month back home before he started, and he knew he was going to spend it all wondering where Shiba was and if he was fine.

When Shiba and Kunishige met him to part ways, Kunishige gave Azami a bear hug that he wasn’t expecting. For someone who didn’t fight, the man was surprisingly strong, and he ended up popping Azami’s back. It wasn’t a teary goodbye. They all held faith they’d be meet each other again.

While back home, Azami heard nothing new. He read every newspaper, waiting for Kunishige’s name to appear in something that declared him as dead and not as a war hero but nothing showed up. It wasn’t until one day he woke up to a letter and a box of matches on his dresser drawer that he finally felt like a person again. It had been three weeks, and he was to report to Tokyo soon to start training.

He opened the letter and realized he had never seen Shiba’s handwriting before.

Dear A,

I hope the enchantment delivered this well. Our friend was able to collect all six of the things, but he was unable to fake what was intended. Something went off in the plan, but he and his wife are safe either way. The big people are embarrassed about losing the six, so they’re making it seem as if they voluntarily gave them up for our friend to protect. I guess in the end it’s less responsibility on their part, but I believe they’ll still try to get him or the six.

I wanted to fill you in this way because when we see each other for training next week, we shouldn’t speak about him at all. Or speak much. Although, some people saw us together so it might be even more odd if we were apart. We’ll figure it out over there.

All yours, S

It’s after their first week in the Kumanabi that Azami realized that war made him delusional. He and Shiba were never going to have a regular relationship. When he saw Shiba for the first time, he felt the air leave his body. Shiba was in civilian clothes, and his choice of suspenders made Azami raise an eyebrow. He was also growing his hair long. It was endearing.

The first thing Shiba did when he noticed Azami in the building lobby was walk over and pinch his ears. “You’ve had piercings this entire time?” Shiba asked, still holding onto his earlobe. Azami knew he was blushing, and he hoped nobody paid attention to them.

“Yeah. For a few years now. I took them out when I left. I thought they would close, but I guess it was fine.” Shiba let go.

“They’re hot,” Shiba smirked. Azami hissed under his breath and looked around.

“Shiba. Don’t say things like that here.” Shiba just laughed and the two went to go meet the rest of their group to start working. There were a lot of familiar faces that he saw back in the war and although he didn’t talk to most of them, he liked knowing he was valuable enough to join them. Shiba didn’t seem to be as impressed with the institution as much as Azami was, but Azami felt peace knowing he was there doing something productive along his side. That peace came hand in hand with the growing tension between them.

Working with Shiba was being able to talk but not too much. Being able to look but not stare. Being able to protect Shiba when they were getting attacked during field work but not being able to defend Shiba when he said or did something reckless to piss off their superiors. Azami’s natural instinct to side with those in power bothered Shiba who didn’t care about consequences. Somehow, that was balanced with a weak friendship disguised as strictly coworkers with zero romantic history.

Shiba told him in notes to burn that they should avoid doing anything together outside of work because they were watching him closely in case of contact with Kunishige. Azami wanted to call him paranoid and wanted to be selfish and tell him to meet with him anyways, but he didn’t. He conformed with watching Shiba make other people they worked with laugh and have them listen attentively to his war stories. He never shut up now that he wasn’t worried about dying.

Azami conformed to hearing him whisper about how Kunishige was going to have a baby soon and how he was going to risk it all to see his family. Azami wished he’d risk it all for him for once.

And eventually, when he stopped wishing for him at all, the universe set the fire again. Shiba got wounded. It wasn’t terrible, and it wasn’t deadly. It was a dull katana to the thigh, and it put him in a hospital bed where they gave him some painkillers and stitches. Azami and Shiba hadn’t been sent on the same missions for a while, so it was Shiba’s team leader that failed to protect him. Azami told off Shiba’s team when he barged into his hospital room, and they all looked frightened at his rare outburst. If it made them suspicious, he didn’t care. If they fired him, he didn’t care. He understood what Shiba meant. He understood why Shiba wasn’t so inclined to give those idiots his full trust.

But they didn’t fire him. Instead, he got promoted and got told to take Shiba home from the hospital because his team was tied to desk duty for a month.

Shiba and him didn’t talk as he drove him home from the hospital. The radio played some old song, and Shiba hummed along as if he hadn’t been in the hospital for three days. When Azami parked at his apartment, he insisted he help him up because he was still limping and was too weak to teleport. Shiba allowed him to put his arm around his waist and walk him to the elevator and through his front door.

His apartment was oddly clean and furnished plainly. “I thought you were the type to live with a mattress and TV on the floor,” Azami told Shiba who laughed under his breath. He helped Shiba sit on his couch before he looked around. He had one katana up on his wall for decoration, and it hung a little crooked which made him think Shiba liked to swing it around every once in a while.

“Do you think so little of me?” Shiba asked.

“I think too highly of you,” Azami said before he could stop himself. He thought Shiba would get upset, but he only grinned.

“Is that why you told off my squad leader, who by the way, is still your superior?” Shiba had been waiting to bring it up, and Azami got pink faced. He had hoped the drugs had knocked Shiba out completely, but they didn’t.

“That doesn’t matter. They promoted me.” Shiba seemed surprised, but he still beamed at him.

“Really, now? That’s good. I should’ve gotten my leg almost cut off sooner if I had known they’d promote you for it.” Azami rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t ignore the stupid flutter in his stomach. He adored this attention he only ever wanted from Shiba and nobody else. He had forgotten what it was like to be in a space with him and him only.

Azami sat down next to Shiba who turned his body to watch him. He was studying his next move, but Azami didn’t want to be predictable for him anymore. He looked across at the TV console where there was a singular photo of a baby, and he pointed over at it.

“Is that Rokuhira’s kid?”

Shiba smiled, “Yeah. His name is Chihiro. I’ve only been able to meet him once so far. I’m hoping that after this they stop tailing me, and I can go more.” That sentence made something click and Azami glared wide eyed at Shiba.

“Did you get hurt on purpose?” Shiba’s conniving smirk said it all. “Shiba!” Azami covered the frustration on his face with his hands. “I yelled at a superior for that. You could’ve given me a heads up, you know? You’re a real jerk.”

Shiba said in between laughter, “Sorry, sorry. I had to prove I would lay down my life for the government for the second time blah blah blah. I knew the guy was weak, but it still hurt so thank you for defending my honor.” Azami saw how guiltless Shiba looked. In fact, he looked delighted.

“You’re horrible. I should’ve stayed hidden in the tent that night.” Shiba still knew him enough to know that he was kidding.

Shiba offered, “You should come meet the baby with me. Kunishige would love to see you again.” Azami watched how Shiba’s eyes changed when he’s not laughing but he’s not serious. It’s a very rare state of restfulness he sees on him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You were his buddy, and you’ve kept his secret. You’re one of us.” Azami stayed silent, trying to process how friendly Shiba was despite the indifference for the last year. Shiba let out a small breath that grabbed his attention. “You know I’m sorry, right? Wait, let’s start over. I’m sorry. Now you know I’m sorry.”

Azami tilted his head. “Sorry for?”

“That we had to ice each other out for this long. Especially after what happened back then.”

“What did happen back then?” Azami didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” Shiba said, the uncertainness piercing his stomach. “What did you want it to be?”

“I’m not sure. Not this, though.” Azami motioned at the space between them. “I do have feelings, you know?” He clenched his hands in fists on top of his thighs, trying to get a hold on the situation. Why did everything have to be so messy? It was somehow easier in the war.

“Me, too. I don’t know if this makes up for it, but I can tell you, I’ve been very miserable thinking about you.” Shiba leaned his face closer to Azami’s, but not close enough to make contact. Just barely enough for Azami to feel the growing tension.

“Good. That does make me feel better,” Azami lied with his arms crossed. No matter what, Shiba knows him.

Shiba told him, a little quietly, almost nervous, “You should come over more. My room gets cold at night. I do have a bedframe if you’re too posh to sleep on the floor.” Azami found no reason to tell him no.

And so, the fire started up again. Shiba’s apartment one weekend and Azami’s for the others because Shiba never had groceries that was more than fish and one tomato and onion. Shiba’s bed was also more comfortable, but Azami would never admit that. He cleaned Shiba’s injury for him until all the stitches were out and the longing for each other hit like a meteor setting a grass field ablaze. Azami had a harder time keeping his eyes off Shiba at work when they’d be in the same space.

Shiba was right to get injured. It proved some odd type of loyalty, and Azami was able to go see Kunishige’s family with him without worrying that they had been followed. He also trusted Shiba’s sorcery and knew they wouldn’t be found. Azami was never very good with kids, but he liked watching Shiba interact with Chihiro who couldn’t care less about him. He also missed Kunishige in the way that he would miss a friend he went to school with for years. He didn’t realize it until they were all in his kitchen laughing together. He had been lonely.

After spending enough time in his new position, Azami started getting sent away on bigger, longer investigative jobs and he’d go two or three months without returning home. Shiba would take care of his apartment, and Azami would go straight to him when he was finally home.

The first time he saw Shiba fall asleep before him, he realized that that was all he had wanted- to be by his side at the end of a long day.

It remained like that for a few years until Kunishige’s wife died, and Shiba started going over more to help. Azami would go when he could as well, but he got a second promotion and Shiba received his first. Their stress levels started rising, and their interest in the other was going down. Azami felt like Shiba was bored of him especially and maybe interesting in someone else. They went down to one or two weekends together a month and although Azami ached on occasion for Shiba, he was older. He found passion in his job, and he got used to the loneliness that was being Shiba’s secret, and he embraced being a hypocrite because Shiba was his.

There was a time when Chihiro was eight and asked Shiba why he didn’t take Azami anymore. Shiba had told him that it wasn’t fair that Chihiro asked for him because he was supposed to be the favorite uncle. Azami said Shiba’s loud voice probably annoyed him, but when he went to see the Rokuhiras, Chihiro didn’t pay any attention to Azami, either. Kunishige said Chihiro was just being nosy when he asked, and Shiba had a huge laugh about it.

The Rokuhira’s became Shiba’s main concern, and Azami could understand and respect that. Although the friendship between the three remained unafflicted, Azami backed away a little more from Shiba outside of the Rokuhira home. He saw Shiba less and searched for him less. They could go months without seeing each other outside of work, and their monthly routine reduced to a few nights a year when one of them was either drunk or had a nightmare so bad they needed to be held or numbed out by familiar sex.

Then Shiba quit and the one thing that Azami had guaranteed was gone. He didn’t tell him, either. Azami heard through a coworker and as soon as he was done for the day, he stormed over to his apartment. He was angry, and he didn’t know why. They hadn’t had a proper conversation in two months, and they hadn’t been together for over six. Not that Azami kept count. He was older now.

He knocked on Shiba’s door, and Shiba seemed to know it’d be him. Azami walked in without saying a word and started pacing back and forth in his entryway. Shiba shut the door and watched him try to burn out his rage through walking.

Shiba eventually asked, “What happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were quitting?” Azami asked, arms up in the air. He knew he looked hurt, and he tried to undo the furrowing of his brown and the frown on his lips, but he couldn’t. Shiba looked at him with a pitiful expression, and it only made Azami feel worse.

“I knew you weren’t going to let me,” Shiba said.

“Well, what are you going to do for work?” Azami asked if he didn’t know Shiba was very financially responsible. Besides his car he already paid off, Shiba didn’t spend on things he didn’t deem necessary. He only replaced clothes when they needed to be replaced and that was if Chihiro didn’t offer to sew it up for him.

“You know me. I have things lined up.” Azami did know Shiba and that was why it was all so annoying. Shiba was his best friend, but Azami wasn’t Shiba’s. He was his secret. That was all. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to after I quit, but I got embarassed.” Shiba leaned his back on his door and sighed. “I know we don’t see each other a lot anymore, but you’re still on my mind and I care about what you think.”

Azami blurted out, “I think I have to go.” He didn’t know if he was irritated or plain unhappy anymore. He couldn’t be in the same place as Shiba and figure it out properly because he’d just get him naked, and he’d forget about it.

Shiba moved to open the door and gestured his arm out at the empty hallway. Azami didn’t know why he couldn’t walk. He stood still. He was back in that hole he had dug all those years ago when all he wanted was to keep Shiba alive. Now all he wanted was to keep Shiba.

“Did you ever love me?”

Shiba’s mouth fell slightly ajar, his eyes soft with hurt. “Of course, I did.” The door closed once again, and Azami stayed.

Azami regretted asking that question because he knew it was love and not something else and despite it being over a decade of acting like a couple, he knew they weren’t. There was no way to be. Azami and Shiba both disappeared too much too often for work as they gained respect in their lines of work. Shiba played uncle more often, and Azami once tried when he knew Shiba wouldn’t be there. Chihiro said he looked off without Shiba at his side, and Azami bit his tongue too hard as Kunishige changed the subject.

But Chihiro was right. They were a triangle, and as much as he thought Shiba and Kunishige were off in a league of their own, Kunishige erased those doubts. The three of them had been drinking on the porch together, and Shiba went inside to go tell Chihiro a joke he thought of and to just plain annoy the poor boy. Shiba and Azami hadn’t been together for over a year at that point, and Kunishige always noticed it despite them thinking they disguised it well enough. The fire was very low. Shiba could annoy Azami and vice versa, but neither of them got set ablaze by the other. It was a wave of calm, but it came with an undeniable string of tension.

Kunishige said, “I can never ask Shiba stuff like this, but are you two alright?” Kunishige wasn’t one to ask about their special relationship or even try to understand it. Still, it must’ve been noticeable.

“We will be,” Azami assured him. He didn’t know on what grounds, but he knew one thing and it was that Shiba would always be in his life. “I might’ve ignored a text of his last month. I told him I wasn’t going to be in Tokyo, so I don’t know what he expected.”

“Oh,” Kunishige seemed relieved. “He’ll get over that in like two hours.” Azami laughed. He often forgot there was one person that understood Shiba how he did, and it was nice to connect with him through that. Chihiro might ignore Shiba the best he could, but he was on his way to understanding him as well. “I thought something else might’ve happened. Like a real break up.”

“I don’t think there’s even a solid relationship to break up,” Azami said, looking down at his beer bottle. It was getting tepid. His relationship with Shiba, if anything, was simply metaphorical. It wasn’t even a sonnet or an epic. It was a warning sigh perhaps. Maybe a haiku that leaves you miserable for a few minutes before you move on with your day.

“I’m so glad I never had to experience whatever the hell you two are doing. I’d go crazy.” Kunishige was honest if not anything. “Told Chihiro he could date as long as he never ended up in a relationship like you two.” Azami glared.

“You told Chihiro we were together?”

“He asked what the hell you two were, in cleaner language of course my kid good, and then I said you two are like boyfriends who are just friends who sometimes like each other and sometimes they don’t.” Azami hated how good of a descriptor that was. He rubbed his temple and let out a heavy sigh.

“What did he say?”

“He honestly didn’t care. It made sense I guess because when you two started bickering earlier today, he just looked at me and shook his head,” Kunishige started laughing loudly. Azami couldn’t help but laugh, too. It was very infectious no matter the subject matter. “You two are family to us. As long as that doesn’t stop, do whatever you want to do. If I ever need to knock Shiba into place, let me know. He can be something else at times.” Kunishige said quietly after a pause, “Well, I guess you know that, too. And you know me.”

Azami smiled, put the beer bottle near his lips again and said, “Yeah. I do know you.”

When Kunishige died, that was the real ending. Shiba took Chihiro in and was honest about their intentions to train and get the katanas back like Kunishige would’ve wanted. That was the day it all made sense. Shiba would always belong strictly to the Rokuhira’s. Azami would belong to whoever he felt needed by.

Anything between them became that blurry line between romantic and platonic, but it was mostly platonic. It only leaned romantic when Shiba was flirting shamelessly, and Azami played along. But they never kissed and even when their eyes stared too much, neither of them made a move. Azami was glad he never moved in with him.

He went to Shiba’s apartment a year after Kunishige died to take him intel and groceries. Chihiro was there on Shiba’s couch, mindlessly watching an animal documentary. He was still a polite kid despite all the harm brought upon him, and Azami didn’t realize how much affection he had for him until he found himself searching up how to connect with orphaned teenagers. It didn’t work very well, but Shiba said not to take it personally.

After putting the groceries away together, Shiba took Azami to his bedroom to talk in private. He led him in by the wrist, and Azami felt the touch linger after he let go to shut the door. Azami handed him an envelope, and a box of matches, his fingers grazing his palm.

Shiba said quietly, “Thank you. I know you’re risking a lot for us.”

“Funny how you’re an us now,” Azami smiled.

Shiba crossed his arms and nodded, saying, “I don’t think I was born the fatherly type, but I feel like I at least owe him to be the best guardian I can be.”

“You’ve always been good with kids. You’re kind of one big kid yourself.”

Shiba glared sideways at him. “Hey. You’re the one that grew into an uptight old man.” They both broke into grins. Azami was never getting out their circle. “Tell me, what did you have to tell me?” Shiba placed the items on his bedside table where Azami would once leave his keys and wallet. A photo of them with Kunishige and Chihiro as a toddler is framed on there.

Azami put his hands in his pockets, looking at the other man, “I’m here to let you know I’m still willing to help with whatever you need. I am willing to help you protect Chihiro.” Shiba clicked his tongue and looked out his window for a moment.

“Give it a few years before he starts protecting us.” He wasn’t prepared for Azami to say that. They hadn’t been close in a while and still, the loyalty was there. It’d only disappear when Azami died. He’d have to know that, Azami hoped.

“Shiba,” Azami grounds him.

“Yeah. Okay. Look, it’s the search for those damn blades,” Shiba murmured, somewhat distressed. Azami walked over and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Okay. Relax. When I hear something, I’ll let you know. I just can’t bring it up first because then they’ll know I’ve known all along.”

Shiba looked between the hand on his shoulder and Azami’s lips. “You still manage to surprise me.” The old bastard was flirting. Azami knew that tone perfectly. “I didn’t think you’d betray your precious government and title.”

“I do what’s right by my friends.” What an interesting friendship those two had.

“That, you do.”

“I have to go now. I can’t get seen near your address these days.” Azami tried to remove his hand, but Shiba clasped his around it. Azami was doomed forever.

“No goodbye kiss?” Azami tackled Shiba to the ground and devoured him. They had a few free minutes.

#stars writing

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