THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR â PART VII
Pairing:Â samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words:Â 11.5k
Chapter tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of sexual content at the beginning, fluff, subtle talks of dom/sub dynamic, mentions of bondage, torture, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of underage sexual experiences, blade to throat, death threats, blood, mentions of supernatural forces, mentions of Noah having killed people before (sorry, he's a samurai, after all), mentions of pregnancy, angst, cliffhanger at the end whoops. so many things, i'm taking this fic very seriously no joke
Author's note: okay everybody, i've done a bunch of research for this fic and I love learning about different cultures and expanding my knowledge about the world, but the entire thing is obviously historically inaccurate (not that this is exactly a historical fic but anyway), also I don't think people wore sweatpants in feudal Japan, but I can't picture Noah not wearing them, so here you go, a samurai wearing sweatpants. đ€
I haven't done a second review to check for any last typos or mistakes, so I apologize for that.
Additional useful info:
- Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit.
- Yakuza: individual involved in criminal organizations, thought to have descended from gangs of ronin (masterless samurai)
- Rei and Ren are two different people in the story. Rei we like, Ren we definitely do not like.
THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIORÂ
PART VII
Waking up to Noahâs serene form beside me felt like a blessing.Â
         His peaceful slumber was a sight Iâd seen many times in the dark, when he slept by my side and I sacrificed my own hours of rest just to watch him, knowing that with the dawn, he would be gone.Â
         But this time, watching him held a special tranquility. His young features, usually marked by a furrowed brow, were now softened in repose, free from the burdens of worry that plagued him even in sleep.Â
         During the night, his rest had been disturbed, his subconscious grappling with the lingering echoes of the past few days. Despite the idyllic surroundings we found ourselves in, a part of him remained tethered to the fears and uncertainties of our choices. His dreams were plagued with scenarios of what could have happened days ago, before escaping from my fatherâs estate. At one point, he tossed and turned so fervently in bed that he flung the sheets off his body. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, neck, and chest.Â
         Now that morning had unfolded, and sunlight streamed into our modest dwelling, I found myself drawn to Noahâs profile, his beautiful lines illuminated by the gentle glow. Even while sleeping, his features exuded a captivating allure, making him look even more handsome than he already was. His shirt had shifted during the night, when he found himself trapped in a nightmare, and a glimpse of his abdomen was now revealed to me alongside the scars that marred his warrior skin. A pang of sadness washed over me at the reminder of the trials he had endured, being born into a family of Samurai where the path of battle was but an unavoidable destiny.Â
         My eyes shifted from one ugly scar under his left pectoral to the tattoos adorning his skin.Â
         Noahâs fascination with tattoos had always intrigued me, especially considering the strict code of the Samurai that forbade such adornments. Samurai detested tattoos. Yet, Noah had received his first one at the age of eighteen, during a chance encounter with a group of ronin on the outskirts of the estate. I remember him recounting the tale to me with a mix of trepidation and wonder, describing how he had nearly fled at the sight of the masterless samurai. Yet, he found himself drawn to their stories and the reasons why they had decided to break the Bushido code and now lived in the shadows. A ronin had been the one to ink a small dragon onto Noahâs skin, unaware that Noah would become one of them years later. As he showed the tattoo to me and I traced the red and blue lines with my fingertips, I became aware that he would have to keep it hidden. It terrified me to know what my father would do to him if he found out Noah had stained his skin.Â
         This morning, my fingers traced the same path, sliding down gently from the head of the dragon to its ferocious tail. Noah stirred slightly beneath my touch, though he remained slightly lost in his sleep. I shot a wary glance at his face, and as soon as I saw his eyes remained closed, I moved my fingers to his navel and down, towards the line of hair that descended and disappeared under the waistband of his pants.
         He whispered my name, a gentle protest.
         âStop that. It tickles,â he mumbled, his voice coarse.
         His words only triggered me to continue my tracing, which made him open his eyes and, in an instant, he had flipped me onto my back, his grin infectious as he pinned me beneath him.
         The unmistakable hardness of his morning erection didnât go unnoticed to me as it pressed against my hip. Â
         âGood morning,â I said quietly, but even with my sweet voice I couldnât hide my intentions. Noah narrowed his gaze on me, his fingers moving a few strands of hair from my face.Â
         âGood morning,â he replied. âSomeone had a good nightâs sleep, I see.â
         As soon as he said that, I subtly arched my hips, seeking out some friction. Noahâs eyes darkened. With one hand on my hip, he kept me pinned to the mattress, but I was feeling feisty enough and I slid a hand down and inside his sweatpants, making my way beneath his underwear and wrapping my fingers around his hard, thick length.Â
         Locked in a silent exchange of desire, Noahâs eyes bore into mine, a vein beginning to pulse on his neck. Just as I was poised to take things further, to pump him once, laughter from outside shattered the moment, snapping us both back to reality.Â
         Noah immediately flipped back to his side of the bed, both slightly breathless and eager for the privacy we had momentarily lost. We turned our attention towards the balcony door, our sanctuary now breached by the intrusion of the outside world.Â
         We had no idea what time it was, but suddenly we were very aware of the noise outside, the chatter of voices, the chirping of birds, the occasional deer call, and the distant clucking of chickens. I was momentarily disoriented.Â
         As the chaos settled around us, a sense of clarity began to emerge.Â
         We were far from home, âor what home had beenâ. We were nestled in a humble abode offered by a community we had only just discovered. Surrounded by life in all its vibrant forms, if we got lucky enough, Noah and I could dare to hope for a future together in this place. The laughter of children drifting away outside made me wish with all my might that the opportunity came to us and all the dreams I had with Noah became a reality.Â
         Despite the realization that we still didnât have the privacy we would like, I wanted to embrace this new reality. To wake up to the symphony of birdsong, the joyous laughter of children, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breezeâthese simple pleasures whispered promises of a life yet to be lived.Â
         After composing ourselves and tending to the necessities of the morning, I ventured out onto the porch, greeted by the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers and the soft caress of the morning breeze. In the distance, I spotted Rika and Millaâs children, their playful antics adding a sweet touch to the warmth of our new community.Â
         Near the door, a package caught my eye, itâs presence a tangible reminder of the kindness that surrounded us. Attached to it was a tag bearing Rikaâs name. With a grateful smile, I carried the package inside, closing the wooden doors behind me.Â
         As Noah caught sight of me, a softness settled over his features. I could tell he was still living in the short moment we had shared in bed as we woke up.
         I carefully read the note attached to the package in my hands,
         âI thought these clothes might be useful for now. I hope they fit you. I used to wear them before I got pregnant with my first child. There are some from my husband that might fit Noah.Â
Rika.â
         Surveying the contents of the package, Noah selected a pair of black trousers and a matching tunic, securing his katana at his waist with a belt of the same color as he finished getting dressed. Meanwhile, I found myself staring in awe at the array of dresses Rika had offered, each one an affirmation of her generosity and kindness.Â
         After much deliberation, I chose a delicate white summer dress adorned with tiny blue flowers, its charm a contrast to the uncertainty of our circumstances. But as I held it in my hands and examined it, a sense of determination flooded me. I wanted this to work, and as silly as it sounded, I considered that, by wearing a cute dress, I could give it a start.Â
         However, as I struggled with the intricate straps at the back of it, a sense of frustration took over me, and I found myself longing for the assistance of the maids back at my fatherâs estate.Â
         Noah appeared behind me. In a heartbeat, his hands covered mine, his touch gentle yet confident.Â
         âLet me,â he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room as I dropped my hands.Â
         With practiced ease, he skillfully tightened the straps and tied a knot. I held my breath, acutely aware of the precision in his touch.Â
         His proficiency with ropes, honed through years as a samurai, carried with it a weight of history and pain that lingered beneath the surface.Â
         I had witnessed the anguish that haunted Noahâs eyes on those nights we spent entwined beneath the covers, grappling with demons of his past. The torment of inflicting pain upon innocent prisoners that had been tied up with ropes in impossible ways weighed heavily upon him, a burden he bore with a heavy heart. And in those moments of darkness, I knew that I had to find a way to replace the agony with something else. I might not be able to make it disappear, but I could help him deal with it in a different way, build a new memory related to that bondage he was meant to perform on those people considered traitors. Â
         The first time, many years ago when I asked him to tie me up, his horror at my proposal was obvious, and his refusal resolute and unwavering. He got very upset, and I didnât insist any further that night. But I refused to be deterred, though, and patiently waited for the opportunity to convey the depth of my intentions and why I believed it could help him.Â
         âIâm not asking you to hurt me,â I whispered. âIâm asking you to show me how much youâre capable of loving; to show me that by being completely at your mercy, Iâm safe; that beneath the warrior lies a man of compassion and tenderness; that despite everything, youâre a man of good heart.â
         It was a gradual journey, fraught with a lot of uncertainty and hesitation. But as Noah discovered the profound emotional bond that the bindings on my body provided, there was no turning back, and soon I found myself bound and completely subjected to him in bed, feeling every one of his touches more intensely than ever, every kiss he placed on every inch of my body more devoted than the last.Â
         The restraints provided by the bindings seemed to ignite the rest of my senses, making my skin tingle and increasing my ability to feel and understand that Noah was mine and I was his. Never, not once, did I fear him. That confidence toppled the last ounce of insecurity that remained in Noah, and since then, we knew that we wouldnât be able to live without each other.Â
         With Noah, I found a sanctuary where submission was a choice made freely. It had nothing to do with the control that defined my life and that I hated. With Noah I could be honest, and I could submit without fear. And Noah, despite not being able to escape the expectations of his samurai heritage, despite not being able to rid himself of that part of him that yearned for control and dominance, he embraced it when I was in his arms.Â
         When we were with each other, the dynamic was wonderful, and there was no moment when we felt more united than when I let go, surrendered to his mercy.
         As I turned around and thanked him for tying the straps of the dress, I noticed that his eyes had darkened, and I understood that the same thoughts had been crossing his mind as he tied the ribbons.
         âBeautifulâ, he murmured, but more than a sigh, the way he pronounced the word resembled a growl.Â
         With a sheepish smile, I tiptoed to kiss him, my hands pressed against his hard stomach, and for a moment I damned that a few more moments alone together, in that comfortable bed that had been offered to us, had been stolen.Â
         Iâd had Noah inside me a couple of days ago, but still, the ache of missing and wanting him was too potent. Â
         Noah parted his lips to kiss me deeper, but a growl from his stomach interrupted us. A hint of embarrassment colored his cheeks as I laughed. Â
         âIâm hungry,â he said.   He traced a strand of hair that fell across my face, his fingers falling to my neck and caressing it in a tantalizing caress. âI could eat you.â
         He leaned in to feign a bite at my neck, prompting me to laugh louder. I squirmed under his touch, laughing and letting out little squeals.
It wasnât as late as we initially thought. When we left the house, traces of dew still lingered on the plants, and some moisture collected on the stone paths.Â
We walked to the main dining hall, warmly greeting the people who recognized us from the previous day, exchanging good mornings with a wave of the hand or a polite nod. In the dining hall, much like the night before, there werenât many people, but the same woman who served me dinner the previous night was there, delighted to see me in good spirits and well accompanied.     Noah and I had breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing around, absorbing the details of the place and familiarizing ourselves with the communityâs routine. The woman serving the food assured us we could eat as much as we wanted, gesturing with her arms to indicate the abundance of fresh fruit baskets, cereals, and other hot delicacies piled up on a long table at the opposite end of the hall.Â
I was finishing a cup of hot tea when an elderly couple, around eighty, perhaps,, approached us very slowly, delicate smiles on their wrinkled faces. I exchanged a cautious glance with Noah, unsure how to greet them, whether we should stand up, or if we should stop eating. As soon as Noah made a move to rise from the bench, the woman gestured with her hand and shook her head, then gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder. The encounter didnât go beyond that.    Â
Not long after, when Rika appeared on the porch leading to the dining hall, she informed us that they were the oldest couple in the community, residing at the top of the hill at the back end of the village, just behind the temple we had seen upon our arrival the day before. They were very quiet and reserved people, and being older, their community tasks had already ceased, and now they spent their time strolling around the village, helping just in whatever way they could and warding off evil spirits.Â
âThey are very wise people,â Rika told us. âIf you ever need advice or help, youâll likely find them at the temple. They take care of keeping it clean and orderly, and often perform rituals for the well-being of the community.â
We were leaning on the veranda of the porch when Rei, the man whoâd led us into the village the day before, approached. He greeted Noah warmly and apologized to me for not including me in his tour yesterday, to which I replied that it hadnât mattered and that I appreciated their concern for me and letting me rest.Â
I hadnât finished talking when a gentle brush against my thigh through the porch bars drew my attention, and as I turned around, I was met with the sight of a curious deer lingering near the porch. Its innocent gaze and delicate features captivated me instantly, and unable to resist it, I walked off the porch and onto the stone path, approaching the creature with a mixture of fascination and wonder.
As if sensing my presence, the deer remained still, showing a genuine trust toward me that warmed my heart. Noah, Rei, and Rika observed from the porch.
âTheyâre quite friendly,â Rika said, her voice carrying a sense of tranquility that matched the peaceful surroundings. âThe children love playing with them.â
Indeed, as soon as a group of children noticed me petting the deer, they joined in, their laughter filling the air as they frolicked alongside the gentle creature. It was a scene of pure joy and innocence, a stark contrast to the hardships Noah and I had faced in recent days. It was hard to believe two days ago we had been sleeping in an abandoned and ruined cottage in the middle of nowhere, with barely any food nor water.Â
As the children gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder, I knelt down beside them, the soft breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth.
âDid you know that deer shed their antlers every year?â I began to explain, my voice soft yet animated. âThey use them for protection and to attract mates.â
The children listened intently, their fascination evident as they hung onto my every word. I had always been fascinated by animals, my knowledge about them being nurtured by years of education and exploration. Close to my fatherâs estate there was a deer sanctuary, a haven where Noah and I met each other on numerous occasions, allowing the creatures to bear witness to the blossoming of our love. âReally?â one of the children exclaimed, their curiosity piqued. He must have been four or five. His cheeks were full and his eyes a sweet light brown. âSo, does that mean they have new antlers every year?â
I nodded, delighted by their enthusiasm to learn. âThatâs right! In the spring, new antlers start to grow, covered in a soft, fuzzy layer called velvet. And as they grow, they become stronger and more durable.â
The children exchanged excited whispers among themselves, their eyes shining.Â
Rika watched from the porch, her eyes twinkling with pride at the scene unfolding before her.Â
âYouâre wonderful with children,â she noticed.Â
I glanced up at her, and just uttered a simple âthank youâ, not knowing what else to say to that. When my eyes diverted to Noah, I caught his gaze fixed on me with a newfound intensity. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on him, a silent acknowledgment of the future we might share together.
Before he said anything, Rei interjected, âItâs very hard to keep them still these days. The children, I mean. All they want to do is run around,â he said. âYou seem to have a knack for handling them,â he remarked, his tone gentle yet inquisitive, and then, âNoah told me youâre very skilled at archery.â
âA little,â I replied, somewhat confused at the change of topics.Â
âSheâs very good,â Noah corrected, emphasizing his words with a nod of his head, his words flooding my mind with images from the time I showed Noah my skills and he had been shockingly impressed. I had been sixteen at the time, and I had been able to shoot a 25lb light bow straight into my aiming point at a distance of ten yards.Â
âMy father wanted me to train in the art of archery from a young age,â I explained, with a hint of bitterness in my voice. Talking about my father would always put me on edge after the events that had just transpired.Â
âYou could continue your training here, or if you prefer, you could teach the children,â Rei suggested as the deer at my side fed on some grass growing between the stones. âIt would be nice to have someone else to instruct them. The current instructor is getting too old for it.â
âOh. UmâI donât know,â I was not expecting such proposal less than twenty-four hours since weâd set foot on this place. âIâd have to think about it. I donât think Iâm good enough for that.â
But Noahâs raised eyebrow told me I didnât have to be so modest.
Rei continued, âI think they would benefit greatly from your experience and guidance.â
âIt would be great,â Rika added. âMy husband has always wanted our son to learn how to use the bow.â
Rei insisted, his voice soft but filled with conviction, âthe children of our community are always eager to learn new skills. I canât help but think that, if youâre as good as Noah says, your expertise in archery would be a valuable asset to them, honestly.â
His words sparked a flicker of excitement within me, âYou really think so?â I asked, apprehensive.
âAbsolutely,â he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. âIf you have a gift, the children would be lucky to learn from you.â
But alongside the thrill of possibility, a wave of self-doubt came my way, threatening to extinguish the flame of enthusiasm. What if I wasnât good enough? What if I failed to inspire the children, or worse, disappointed them? I had never really spent that much time around children, much less teaching them something. Archery was a challenge, far from a simple task. It demanded perseverance through frustration, disappointments, and physical exhaustion.Â
But as I looked up at Noah again, I saw his unwavering faith in me reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. I found the courage to push aside my doubts and embrace the opportunity before me. With a determined nod, I made up my mind to seize the moment and trust in the strength of my own abilities.
The idea was certainly appealing, and teaching archery to the children would not only allow me to share my skills but also contribute to the community in a meaningful way, something totally different from the future that had waited for me at Renâs estate if I had married himâŠ
âWell, I... think I would like that,â I concluded.
As we continued our conversation, Rei proceeded to explain in detail how the community worked to sustain itself. Each member contributed in their own way, whether it was teaching skills like archery, gardening, tending to the harvest, fishing, construction, preparing food, or other subjects more related to history, mathematics, and literature. It was a system built on mutual support and cooperation, where everyone played a vital role in ensuring the community thrived.
Rika, sensing her duties calling, excused herself with a warm smile, suggesting that Noah and I explore the town market later. âItâs a lovely place and not far from here,â she added before walking away towards the northwest side of the village. âYou can buy anything you need there.â
Following Reiâs lead, we made our way to the Samurai training grounds, where he proudly showed us the disciplined regimen of the warriors just as he had showed to Noah the day before. The purpose of teaching combat wasnât the same as the one imposed to those born into a Samurai lineage like Noah. While Noah and his kin were bound by duty to bow to authority and dedicate their lives to the service of war, the kids and youngsters that engaged in combat training here at this place did it with the aim of cultivating their physical strength, honing mental discipline, and equipping themselves with skills needed for self-defense, should the need arise. It was a practice rooted in self-reliance and empowerment, rather than obligation and allegiance.Â
Next to the training grounds, the archery training fields awaited.Â
Arriving there, I was met with a breathtaking panorama of lush greenery stretching out before me, the distant mountains standing sentinel against the azure sky.Â
 A its center, there was a row of sturdy wooden targets, each with rings painted in red. Along the periphery, racks of polished bows stood in neat rows, the curves catching the sunlight, and nearby, quivers waited with arrows arranged next to them.
It was truly a wonderful place, even though my momentary admiration was broken by Reiâs next words.
âWhy donât you show us what you can do?â
I frowned.
âWhat?â Immediately, I shook my head. âNo. No, I donâtâI donât think Iâm dressed appropriately,â I confessed, feeling a pang of self-consciousness as I looked down at my dress.
âIâve seen you shoot while dressed in much less appropriate attire,â Noah teased gently, his eyes twinkling.
It took him less than a sentence to convince me to do anything.Â
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the bows. I examined them until I choose one that seemed the most appropriate for my height and the length of my arms. My fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the familiar weight of the bow. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around me fading into insignificance as I prepared myself and focused all my attention on one of the targets ahead.
With a silent prayer on my lips, I drew back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in my muscles with eachsecond. And then, with a swift release, I let the arrow fly, watching with bated breath as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy.
The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the world holding its breath as the arrow found its mark with a satisfying thud. A rush of exhilaration surged through me, filling every fiber of my being with a sense of triumph and accomplishment.
Turning to face Rei and Noah, I was met with looks of awe and admiration, Noahâs eyes shining with pride as Reiâs watched me with respect. Not even my mother had ever shown so much pride and gratefulness in her daughter.Â
âNoah was right. You do possess a remarkable talent,â Rei acknowledged. âThe children will undoubtedly benefit greatly from the opportunity to learn from you.â
âI would be honored to teach them,â I replied, my voice filled with determination and a new sense of purpose.Â
As the soft hues of a sunny morning painted shadows around us, Noah and I set out on our journey towards the nearby town, hand in hand, our footsteps light upon the forest path. The air was alive with the symphony of nature, the gentle rustle of leaves and the sweet delicacy of a birdsong.
It was the first time we walked with my hand clutched in his as two people who were free, although a part of me still felt reluctant. I was so used to the ingrained fear that holding Noahâs hand was a crime that even after deciding to go against all the rules of our society, I couldnât entirely erase the lingering apprehension. I couldnât shake the feeling that at some point someone would show up, point us out, and make us pay for the âcrimeâ of falling in love.Â
I was aware that Noah was also grappling with similar anxieties, although he had always been more adept at concealing his fears and worries, of course.Â
My thoughts were confirmed when, instead of reveling in the liberation of the moment, he diverted our attention to something he had forgotten to mention the night before.Â
In the backpack my grandmother had given us, at the bottom of it, Noah had found another packet containing a handful of coins and bills. Enough money to get us out of harmâs way for a while longer.Â
With everything that had happened to us in the last three days, I hadnât even stopped to think about money. For me, it had never been a problem, but by deciding to run away with Noah, I had also decided to forsake a life of luxury in the castles of the royal families, the fortune that would fall into my hands just for being the daughter of a Shogun, or the inheritance that would be left in my name once my parents were no longer here. Noah and I had nothing. No coins to our name, no possessions but the clothes on our backs. It was a cold reminder of the consequences of our impulsive actions âa samurai and a princess reduced to fugitives, stripped of all the wealth and status that had once defined us.Â
That just showed how little I cared about money. Still, Noah managed to alleviate some of my unease with the news that at least we had something on our hands, which led me to realize that, in the excitement of setting out to explore the town, I hadnât thought to take my grandfatherâs katana. When I mentioned it to Noah, telling him that I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed considering we were still being searched for by my fatherâs army, he made us stop and forced me to look deep into his eyes as he held my face in his calloused hands.Â
âI donât want you to feel like you have to carry a weapon with you at all times,â he said. âMaybe you should have taken it today, in case you were going out alone, but youâre not. Youâre with me. Nothing is going to happen, and Iâll make sure that from now on, you wonât feel the need to be armed whenever you decide to go somewhere.â
That was sweet, the way he implied that he would give me a life of freedom and absent of fear, but they didnât entirely dispel my anxiety.  Â
âIâve got mine,â he said as he noted my angst not subsiding, his thumbs caressing the curve of my cheeks. âIâll keep us safe, donât worry.â
Attempting to reassure him more than myself, I nodded, forcing a small smile.Â
As I started to resume our walk, Noahâs hand clasped my wrist, halting me in place. When I looked up at him, I noticed a special glint in his eyes. Â
âWhat is it?â I asked.Â
âIâm aware I told you how beautiful you are mere hours ago,â he began, his voice a quiet whisper in the forest. The way he was looking at me was tender and adoring, the touch of his touch around my wrist a soothing, honeyed sensation. âBut thereâs somethingâŠâ he cleared his throat. âIâve always wanted to tell you how pretty you look in these dresses,â he continued, more confidence in his voice this time. âWhenever I saw you around your fatherâs gardens, I was⊠mesmerized. But I couldnât say anything.â For obvious reasons. âYou look pretty. I just wanted you to know.â
I blushed, but despite the embarrassment I was able to stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss, cupping his cheek in one of my hands.
In about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the first houses that comprised the town. Nestled in the center of the picturesque valley, the town was flanked by towering mountains and crisscrossed by a river, likely the same one Noah and I had followed on our journey.Â
At the entrance to the town, a stone structure welcomed us, shaped by two vertical pillar and two horizontal crossbeams.
Venturing further, excitement flowing through me as I held tightly onto Noahâs hand, we found ourselves amidst a bustling scene. The narrow main street bustled with activity as locals and visitors alike moved briskly, carrying bags of provisions and exchanging lively greetings.
The air was alive with the aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering rice, wafting from tiny eateries just beginning to open their doors. Though being daytime, lanterns overhead cast a warm glow and added illumination to the cobblestone path below our feet.Â
As we strolled along, I was captivated by the sights and sounds that surrounded us. Quaint tea houses adorned with cherry blossoms stood alongside market stalls offering an array of treasures.Â
I pulled Noah to a stop when we came across a group of street performers.Â
Dressed in elegant kimonos and covered in vibrant colors, a pair of dancers performed a kabuki-inspired dance, bringing to life ancient tales of heroism and love while a skilled percussionist put on display a performance of taiko drumming on massive drums. The music filled the street with thunderous rhythms that reverberated through the crowd. We watched, enthralled. By the time they reached the heart of their act, Noahâs arms had slid around my waist from behind, and I swayed a little with my back pressed against his chest, my hands resting on top of his over my stomach.And as the final notes of music faded into the air, we were left with a profound desire to belong to this place. Â
Even when the crowd started to dissipate, I remained tucked in Noahâs arms, feeling a bittersweet feeling inside of me. I could like it here. I could love it. I was already mesmerized by it all, but the reminder that this what at the cost of my parents put a heaviness in my chest that every once in a while made it difficult to breath.Â
As always, so perceptive, Noah pressed a kiss to my hair, prompting me to close my eyes and relish the feeling of being there with him, surrounded by people that accepted our love, that allowed us to be.Â
Thankfully, the crowd surrounding me serves as a reminder to keep me anchored in the present moment. My life didnât belong to my parents, and life was not meant to be perfect, either. I could have paradise at a certain cost, and I would take it. I would take this which was standing in front of me, around me, right now.Â
With Noah encouraging us to keep exploring, we stumbled upon a small gathering of locals at a fork in the street, huddled together in animated conversation. They were whispering legends that seemed to dance upon the breeze and that kept children and adults spellbounded by the narratives.Â
An old man, his face weathered by years of wisdom, was regaling locals and visitors with tales of ancient warriors and mythical beasts, his voice rising and falling like the ebb and flow of a tide. As he spoke, Noah and I listened and exchanged knowing glances. These tales had been our companions in the quiet of bedtime as children and had accompanied us through our teenage years, intertwined with the poetry and literature of our respective educations.Â
As the day wore on and the rumble of hunger coming from my stomach elicited a playful comment from Noah this time, we sought out the nearest food stall, its colorful banners and fragrant spices alluring us closer. We approached the stall with hunger, our mouths watering at the tantalizing aroma that wafted through the air.
Noahâs eyes danced with excitement as he perused the selection of dishes on display, his adventurous spirit evident as he selected a variety of savory skewers and steaming dumplings.Â
âWhat would you like to have?â he asked.
âThereâs so much to choose from,â I replied, my eyes darting from one plate to another. âEverything looks delicious.âÂ
 Noah engaged the vendor, asking about a few specific delicacies before making our selections.Â
âWould you like to try these? Theyâve just been made and are still warm,â the vendor offered, gesturing to a plate of unfamiliar bites.Â
âSure,â I agreed, accepting the bite from Noahâs fingers. His act of feeding me felt intimate and sweet, and elicited a smile I couldnât shake as I chewed, my gaze locked on his until his laughter broke the spell.Â
âWhat?â I asked, my mouth still full.
âYou look like a hamster,â he teased, his eyes alight with amusement. When he attempted to pinch my cheeks, I punched him playfully on the shoulder before covering my mouth with my hand.
But as I swallowed and tried to avoid his excited expression, I was overwhelmed by a sense of completeness. I had never seen Noah like this, so carefree, so happy. I wanted him like this forever. I would take the good and the bad, but I didnât want anyone to take this happiness from him.Â
I vowed to protect this happiness at all costs.Â
As the taste settled in, an unexpected sharp sting spread across my tongue.Â
âGods, this is so spicy!â I exclaimed, feeling the heat intensify.Â
The vendor let out a little laugh at my reaction. Noah observed my cheeks tinging red, and without letting his amusement fade, he asked the vendor for a glass of water, which the man quickly offered to me.
After my tongue found some relief and I insisted on avoiding further adventurous bites, Noah and I retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy our meal. Our conversation was light-hearted, focused on the scene unfolding around us and the animate characters populating the market street. We didnât discuss the situation we were still in for we didnât want to break the spell of this merry morning.Â
A while later, hand in hand and with contented stomachs, we continued to wander through the streets, our hearts buoyant and our spirits lifted by the vibrant energy around. We marveled at the myriad of wonders on display. I couldnât resist stealing a glance at the elegant dresses adorning one of the stalls, which caught the sunlight and seemed to be calling out to me.Â
Ever so attentive to my desires, Noah noticed my gaze and suggested we take a closer look. I was initially hesitant, for the notion of indulging in something as frivolous as a dress seemed quite selfish from my part. But Noah gently took my hand in his and told me that it was perfectly acceptable to indulge in a little luxury now and then, that I deserved it, and that seeing me happy was all he desired.
Already feeling content simply walking beside him, hand in hand and basking in his love, I relented, allowing myself to be swept away by the beauty of the exquisite garments on display. I explored the racks of dresses with Noah following my steps. Each dress was more enchanting than the last, and Noah offered his candid opinion and commented on which colors seemed to complement me best, which I found quite adorable. Who would have thought that a Samurai could be so dept at navigating the world of fashion?
Lost in the array of fabrics and colors, my moment of indulgence was suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Kenzo, Rikaâs husband. Spotting us from a distance, he called out our names, drawing our attention away from the dresses and back to the street.Â
With a friendly salute, Kenzo greeted us, mentioning that he had just finished selling some rice to the vendors from the nearby stalls while his brother remained in the fields. Curious about our impressions of the town, he inquired about our experience so far, prompting me to gush with cheerful comments about the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place.Â
Everything felt so delightful. Such mundane tasks as shopping for food and clothes were luxuries that I had seldom enjoyed during my time at my fatherâs estate, which made this experience all the more special for me.
âI canât help but notice that my clothes fit you well,â he pointed out, looking at Noahâs outfit.Â
âYeah, thank you. Iâll make sure to get something else today so that we donât have to keep borrowing clothes,â Noah replied humbly. No hint of embarrassment. I guess he didnât care, truly.Â
âDo not worry too much about it. The dress looks good on you, too,â he said to me. âI hadnât seen Rika wearing that dress since she got pregnant.â At the mention, his eyes showed a glimpse of a fond memory, maybe his wife, round with their child in her tummy. âItâs nice to see that we can still give use to things we donât need anymore.âÂ
âAll the dresses were so pretty,â I said, running my fingers over the delicate fabric of the skirt, admiring its design. Â
âSheâs got another lot from when she was pregnant. Weâre not considering having another baby for a while now, but if you do, do not hesitate to ask her. Iâm sure sheâll be elated to borrow you some clothes if you like them. Otherwise, there is a shop down the street, on the left, that only sells clothes for pregnant women.â
While his offer was undoubtedly kind, his remarks about pregnancy and babies only served to exacerbate my internal turmoil. The prospect of starting a family with Noah had crossed my mind on occasion, the image of Noah holding our tiny baby in his long arms, tucking him or her against his chest⊠I had entertained the thought a few times, but it was a topic I wasnât ready to confront fully yet. It felt daunting considering the tumultuous world we were living in at the moment. Motherhood could wait for a more opportune moment, when our hearts and minds were truly ready.Â
Just as Kenzo was pointing towards the location of said maternity shop, the three of us realized the air was crackling with tension nearby. A commotion was growing, the voices of angry merchants rising in protest over some disputed deal. Noah exchanged a concerned glance with me, then touched Kenzoâs shoulder.
âThat doesnât sound good,â Noah said.Â
âNot at all,â Kenzo agreed.Â
âMind if we go and see if we can help defuse the situation?â Noah suggested before starting to leave the clothing stall.Â
âNo, sure. Letâs go, see if we can be of any help,â was Kenzoâs answer.Â
âYou stay here,â Noah said to me, extending his arm to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze while he smiled a little. âGet a dress you like. Iâll be back in a moment.âÂ
âOkay, just be safe,â I told him.Â
âI will,â he nodded.Â
With my heart a little heavy, I released his hand reluctantly and let Noah fade into the crowd, followed by Kenzo. They hurried off towards the source of disturbance, to which I didnât really pay much attention. I had enough to worry about, and I knew that whatever was going on, would get settled soon, with Noah and Kenzoâs help.Â
I let myself be dragged on by the energy of the other people around me, also checking clothes and buying food in the nearby stalls.Â
As I stood amidst the colorful dresses, I tried to push aside the worry gnawing at my insides and immerse myself in the moment. I touched the fabrics, marveled at the craftsmanship and attention poured to the details in the designs. Each garment was a work of art in its own right.Â
The vendor, a kindly old woman with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, noticed my interest and approached with a gentle curiosity. With a nod of greeting, she began to share stories of the dresses â their origins, the traditions behind their designs, and the meaning woven into every stitch. Her words were like music to my ears, soothing my troubled mind and drawing me deeper into the enchanting world of the shop.
But just as I began to relax into the moment, a strange presence abruptly stopped just behind me, and a chill swept over me, sending shivers down my spine.Â
Instinctively, I tensed, my senses on high alert.Â
A body pressed against mine threateningly.Â
The heat pressing against my back lacked the comforting warmth I felt when Noah was near. My heart raced, and I found myself frozen for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, eyes wide open, my hand still gripping the side of the dress I had contemplated buying.
Around me, people bustled about, occupied with their tasks, chatting with their neighbors and friends as they held shopping bags and carried boxes of produce. As my eyes scanned the crowd panickily, I couldnât spot Noah. The commotion at the end of the street seemed to have magnified and I couldnât get a glimpse of his tall frame.Â
Even amidst the busy street, fear enveloped me.Â
I had no weapons with me, and Noah didnât know I was in danger. There was no possible way I could tell him that he was, too.Â
I was on the verge of screaming when the voice behind me said, âDare to utter a sound, and I assure you the blade of the knife Iâm holding against your side will pierce your skin, deep enough to stain the pretty dress youâre wearing. No one will be able to do anything to stop it, not even Noah. So listen to me: turn around and walk to the alley on the right, and keep going until the end. Donât stop, and donât even think about running or screaming for your hapless Ronin to come to your rescue. Understood?â
I didnât reply, my blood turning cold as my thoughts raced. If I could just be quick enough to grab something sharp from the stall and turn around to attack him firstâŠ
The tip of his blade pressed against my side, and a twinge of pain shot through me. I knew the dress was torn, just as I knew there was nothing I could do.Â
The lovely vendor that had entertained me minutes ago was now engrossed in serving with another customer, her back turned to me. A lump formed in my throat as I swallowed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.Â
Behind me, the voice sliced through the air as it uttered my name, a dangerous warning dripping from his tone. His wasnât a familiar voice, but I knew it well enough to know who it belonged to.Â
âUnderstood?â He demanded.Â
âUnderstood,â I replied in a low voice, barely audible over the clamor of the shopping street. Â
âGood. Move.â
I turned around, the figure behind me following the same steps, not letting me see his face just yet.Â
I turned the corner of the first alley and walked with the tip of the blade pressed to my side, still threatening to slice through my skin. The sounds of the crowd faded away. It wasnât until we reached a secluded corner, the damp stones beneath our feet and the sun struggling to penetrate the narrow passageway, that the tension seemed to ease if only just a little.Â
I cautiously took two steps away from the figure behind me, and then, I turned to face him.Â
âRen,â I said, my voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at me.Â
Ren looked just as he had three days ago, when my father had expected Noah to take his own life. Ren wore the same attire, only now it was marred by mud and grime. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and beneath the weariness, simmered an unmistakable anger.Â
âLook at you,â he sneered. âAll dolled up and parading through the streets as if you hadnât tarnished your familyâs name and fled with a man whoâs lost his honor.â Â
I ignored his comment. I focused on maintaining my composure, swallowing down my fear. If I could keep Ren talking, perhaps Noah would find me before any harm befell me.Â
âHow did you find us?â I inquired, my gaze steady.Â
âDid you truly think I would grant you the same courtesy as your father and allow you a twenty-four-hour head start to run away with that wretch of a man?â His words cut through the air like a blade, each one laced with venomous resentment.
âDonât talk like that about Noah,â I shot back, my voice trembling now with defiance.
âI do because thatâs what he isâif anything. He took you away from your parents, from your duty as the daughter of the Shogun. From me,â he retorted bitterly. Â
âHe didnât take me away,â much less from you, I wanted to say. âIt was my choice,â I countered with a rough edge in my voice that betrayed my growing anxiety. âI left because I was not happy with the future that had been decided for me.â
Ren scoffed. âNo one is happy with their future, but we take it nonetheless and fulfill our duties.â
âAnd you donât think that maybe things should change? That people should be allowed to choose their fate?â
âThis is not a fantasy tale,â he retorted, mentioning my name at the end, and piercing me with his cold gaze. âYou had responsibilities in your hands, and you dropped them the moment that pathetic excuse of a man got between your legs. Am I wrong?â
I contained the urge to slap him as my cheeks burned.Â
âYou are wrong,â I said sharply, my chest raising. I wouldnât let him see my vulnerability. âBut entertain meâ I continued. âAccording to me, my responsibilities were that I made sure to choose wisely so that I could secure a future built on happiness, love, and power. Isnât that what all those tales they tell us as kids say? If you are so sure I did wrong, tell me what my responsibilities were. Tell me how I should have done things.â
I knew. He didnât have to say. He didnât have to enumerate them.Â
I knew them fucking well.Â
But I needed time. I wasnât certain what Ren was capable of, but the recent threat he imposed on me had sounded all too genuine, and I had a feeling that he would dare to hurt me if as a result he could take me back to my father, even if it was by force.
âYour family is one of the most powerful ones of the province. You are the only daughter of the Shogun, the only heiress to his position and inheritance. You had to respect the order of things, follow your parentsâ steps, and marry me.â
I never really like Ren. It wasnât merely his current presence that fueled my distaste, but rather his embodiment of the quintessential royal archetypeâobedient to tradition, entitled, and expecting the world to kneel at his feed and fulfill him with whatever need he had. Renâs life had been scripted from birth, with every detail set up prior to his arrival. Heâd had nothing to worry about. I supposed he had already assumed that I would be his wife one day, merging our familiesâ legacies to consolidate power across the peninsula. Yet, all those presumptions shattered when I confronted my father and threatened him with his own sword in front of his army while also forcing Ren to return Noah his katana. I had put him to shame in front of the entire province, veneering him of any privilege and igniting a flame of resentment inside of him that he wouldnât let go.Â
I had never found him interesting, either. The times we were forced to meet in my fatherâs estate or in his, there had never been any connection, not even one that would give way to friendship. Itâs also to be considered that by the time I met him for the first time, I was already head over heels in love with Noah. In fact, the first time Ren and I were introduced to each other had been the day after Noah and I had had one of our first sexual experiences. We were still teenagers. We hadnât slept together, but we had touched each other, our hands exploring those unfamiliar nooks and crannies of the opposite anatomy, attentive to the little noises the other made and the expressions of pleasure that crossed our faces each time we caressed a special place. I had almost died of embarrassment when Ren greeted me, looking at me with that expression that said, âIâll be the firstâ, having no idea that he no longer had anything to do. I was still a virgin, but Noah had already touched me, and I wouldnât let any man other than Noah get his hands on me. Noah would be the first, and the last.
And I was going to keep it that way.Â
I felt sorry for Ren, truly, but this was a battle he couldnât hope to win. Iâd sooner face death than live without Noah. It was a truth Iâd held steadfast in my mind and heart for as long as I could remember. I would be with Noah, or I just wouldnât be. I would marry him, or no one else. I would give birth to children that bore the same eye-shape as his and his smile, or I wouldnât have any.Â
âWe would have never been happy together,â I said, keeping it simple and practical. I didnât hold much hope for Ren to understand. Perhaps he believed that happiness was a collective responsibility, one that could be achieved with work and effort, one that could be built the same way you build a house. Or maybe he simply believed that women were not worthy of finding happiness the way I did, by crossing paths with a soldier in her fatherâs gardens when we were just kids. Of course Ren would have been happy with me, or at least pleased in a way. But I would definitely not have been. Would he have cared? I would never know.Â
âHappiness can be attained if you work for it,â was his reply, affirming my suspicions. His ideas aligned with the conventional wisdom: first, you get married, then you toil tirelessly in pursuit of happiness, with no guarantee of success.  Â
âI donât believe thatâs how happiness is supposed to work,â I replied firmly. âI found happiness without searching for it, I seized it and held on tight,â I told him, referring to Noah. I didnât have to specify because he already knew.Â
âYou cannot be referring to that miserable ronin. Do you truly think someone like him is capable of providing happiness?â
âWhy wouldnât he?â I maintained my composure, refusing to be rattled by Renâs palpable disdain for Noah. âJust because he was born and raised as a Samurai, meant to serve a master, does not mean he lacks the capacity to feel or to please others as he served my father for years, earning his trust as his finest swordsman. You have a misguided perception, Ren, and youâre making a mistake by being here. Noah will notice my absence. He will find us, and I donât want to witness what he will do to you when he does.â
His eyes widened as the weight of my warning sank in. Â
âNo,â he retorted, brandishing the dagger and closing the distance between us. His katana was secured at his waist, and I could see his other hand hovering close in case he needed it. âYou have made a terrible mistake. Youâve forsaken your life as the Shogunâs daughter for someone who is way below your status. Your future was already written, and you decided to burn down the vellum. What does he have to offer you? He had nothing, and now he isnothing. Heâs abandoned the Bushido Code. Heâs a ronin now, and he might end up joining the Yakuza. If he betrayed the kingdom, he could betray you.âÂ
âHe wonât,â I said as a matter of fact. âNoah did not choose me for what I had or for my status. He chose me for the things I decided to give him myselfâmy heart. Thatâs the only thing I have to offer to him now. I am no longer a princess. I have no wealth in my hands. I only have uncertainty about my future. And yet, Noah still wants me. I know this is difficult for you to accept, Ren, and it was never truly my intention to hurt you, but Iâve been in love with Noah since I was a little girl. He was my first love, and he will be my last.âÂ
Rage was pouring from him now. It was evident on his eyes, in his expression, in the taut muscles of his body and the veins pulsating in his neck and forehead. His black hair was in disarray from the days he must have endured away from his familyâs estate, too.Â
In one single step, he bridged the gap that separated us. His hand tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back sharply, eliciting a gasp from me as the bladeâs edge pressed against my neck, stinging.Â
âDo not speak another word. Whatever heâs done to you, whatever lies heâs spun to persuade you, you are wrong, and someone needs to bring you back down to earth, princess.â
âRenâŠâ I began to plead, but he cut me off forcefully.
âNo! Heâs doomed but you still have a chance. Return with me to the Shogunâs castle. Marry me, bear my children, and give an heir to secure the future of your fatherâs dynasty.â
The realization of his intentions suddenly terrified me. I had always known, deep down, that this was the expectation placed upon royal women. It was the destiny that had been laid out for me. The same one it would be laid out for my daughter. But hearing it articulated so callously, reducing me to a mere vessel for producing heirs, filled me with dread, chilling me to the bone.Â
âRen, youâre hurting me,â I managed to say. Both physically and emotionally. Fear coursed through me. If Noah didnât find me soon, I would start screaming, consequences be damned.Â
âAnd you think you didnât hurt me? Or your parents? You think youâre the only one entitled to your pain?â His grip tightened. âYou might have run away with that disgraceful man, but you still have a princess complex inside of you. Youâre greedy and selfish, and if that bastard hasnât realized it yet, he will soon.â
âI hope so, because she fucking deserves to be selfish.âÂ
Noahâs voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, an antidote to cure the poison in my body.
And then, everything happened in a blur.Â
Ren was forcefully yanked away from me, the blade grazing my skin as Noahâs strength pulled him back with such intensity that he stumbled, gasping for air. Noahâs grip on Renâs tunic tightened around his neck, momentarily choking him.Â
Ren had clearly underestimated Noah. He had foolishly believed that Noah wouldnât notice I was gone, that he wouldnât panic the moment he couldnât find me among the stalls, wouldnât suspect that something had gone wrong.Â
But Noah wasnât a fucking prince with a misguided sense of superiority. He was a Samuraiâresourceful, cunning, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to find me, no matter where I was.Â
Ren was just wrong about Noah in every possible way.
And now he was going to pay for it.Â
In a second, Noah had unsheathed his katana, the gleaming blade immediately touching Renâs throat. Reflexively, Ren extended his own sword towards Noah, the dagger now discarded on the ground.Â
âDrop it,â Noah commanded, not an ounce concerned about having another sword pointed at him, âbefore I slit your throat and drag you to the forest so that the wolves can feast on you.â
âIâm not afraid of you, ronin,â Ren retorted, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado. I could see it just the same as Noah.Â
This was not even a battle, and yet, Ren had already lost.Â
âYou will be when I start cutting every finger that has touched her. I wonât repeat myself. Drop your fucking weapon.â
It took only seconds. My hands had stopped trembling the moment Noah appeared. Now, it was Renâs hands that shook as he released his katana, his shoulders sagging in resignation as the sound of the blade meeting the ground reverberated in the air. I watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, suppressing the indignation of once again having to bow to a Samuraiâsâor rather, a roninâsâ will. Â
âIf sheâs harmed in any physical way, you will pay with your own flesh. If sheâs not, you will pay either way.â
After his threat, there was a heavy pause. None of us said anything until Noah, never once averting his gaze from Ren, called my name.Â
âAre you hurt?âÂ
Perhaps Ren didnât catch it, or perhaps he lacked the ability to decipher the nuances in Noahâs voice as I did. But I heard itâthe subtle tremor, the fear.Â
Noah was scared.Â
Bringing my fingers to my neck, I located the spot where Renâs blade had pressed, and my breath caught when I felt the dampness coating my fingertips. Looking down, I found them stained with blood. Not much, but enough to awaken the beast within Noah.Â
âIâm bleeding.â
In an instant, Noahâs movements blurred with precision and controlled fury. The punishing blow to Renâs liver landed with the force of a sledgehammer, delivered by the heel of Noahâs boot. With resolve, Noah maintained his grip on his katana, his muscles coiled with a lethal combination of strength and determination.Â
The impact reverberated through Renâs body like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through every fiber of his being. Gasping for breath, he crumpled to the ground as pain engulfed him in its merciless embrace.Â
Through the haze of agony, Ren could barely make out Noahâs figure looming over him, his eyes ablaze with a fierce intensity. In that moment, Ren realized the extent of Noahâs determination to protect me.
I had warned him, but he didnât listen.Â
With trembling hands, Ren reached out in a feeble attempt to plead for mercy, but his words dissolved into a choked gasp as Noahâs steely gaze bore down on him. There would be no forgiveness.Â
In the aftermath of the brutal blow, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Renâs labored breathing and the distant echo of Noahâs heartbeat and mine. And as Ren lay sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, he knew that he had awoken the wrath of a man whose love knew no bounds, and whose fury was as unyielding as the steel of his blade.
âI wonât give you the chance to touch her again, but if you even conceive the idea of doing so, I will make sure you donât recover from this pain,â Noah declared. He knelt down briefly, bringing himself to eye level with Ren, whose face was red and contorted with agony, hands clutching his own body. âI was once a Samurai. I killed men in battle. But I am a ronin now. I will not hesitate to kill anything, or anyone, that is a threat to her. May this serve you as a reminder that I follow no code anymore.âÂ
Though Noahâs words should have chilled me, they didnât.Â
As Ren lay writhing on the ground, noah slowly turned to me, his features softening instantly.Â
I extended a hand to him, the one free of bloodstains.Â
The fear I saw in his eyes disarmed me.Â
His fingers gently lifted my chin to examine the cut on my neck. It wasnât deep, but it would leave a scar.Â
Before I could reassure Noah, he slid one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety. I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my face against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin.Â
We turned to face Ren.Â
âThis isnât over,â Ren managed to say, one hand on the floor now, the other one still on his stomach.Â
âIt is for you,â Noah replied firmly.Â
Renâs gaze shifted to me, ignoring him.
âYour father is not far. When he finds you, he will show no mercy to him. Or to you.âÂ
I swallowed, but I kept my chin held high.Â
âLeave, Ren,â I asserted. âThere is nothing for you here. I chose Noah. I will marry him. I will bear his children. Iâm here today because I have chosen my future. Me. No one did it for me. Thereâs nothing here for you to fight for.â
Ren spat on the ground; the action tinted with blood. Noah stood his ground. Eventually, Ren managed to retrieve his katana and rise. I doubted he would be able to bend down again to retrieve the dagger, but I didnât care.Â
âYou donât deserve her,â Ren sneered at Noah.Â
âIâm aware,â Noah admitted, âbut Iâll spend the rest of my days trying my damnest hard to make myself worthy of her.â
Those were our final words to Ren.Â
That would be the last time we ever saw Ren. I didnât know at that time, and didnât even conceive the thought because a part of me was actually terrified of what could happen in the upcoming days, in the upcoming hours âbut we would never cross paths again.
Back in the bustling street, tucked against Noahâs side and still reeling from the shock, we searched for Kenzo, Noah calling out to him without drawing undue attention from the locals.Â
When Kenzo arrived and saw the blood staining my neck, he was poised to rally the communityâs trained warriors, but I stopped him. Noah told him what happened and urged him to get someone who could tend to my wound.Â
Kenzo led us to a nearby house, just a stoneâs throw away. Noah never once released his grip on me.
Ascending wooden stairs to the first floor of the modest house, after a couple of polite knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a diminutive, kindly-faced old woman. Upon Kenzoâs introduction and a plea for assistance, she ushered us inside.Â
She asked no questions, directing me to recline on a bed in what appeared to be a makeshift nurseâs room. Instructing me to tilt my neck for examination, she diligently tended to my wound, cleansing and dressing it with practiced care.Â
Noah stood never too far, a silent sentinel with arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression taut with worry. Kenzo attempted to engage him in conversation, but Noah remained reticent, his attention fixated on the street below as he stood by the window, peering out through parted curtains.Â
In that moment, it was as though the samurai had taken the place of my lover, and I didnât know when I was going to get him back.Â
âShould we consider returning to the community as soon as possible?â Kenzo asked, casting a concerned glance in my direction, a consideration he had after noting Noahâs suddenly silent demeanor.Â
âYes,â I said softly, aching to reach out to Noah but held back by the old womanâs ministrations as she applied a strange liquid-soaked cotton pad to my neck. âIf my father is nearby, they should be informed. I wouldnât want anything to happen to your comâ.âÂ
âIâll take care of himâ, Noah interjected suddenly, his tone conveying a sense of determination that unsettled me. Â
However, it was Kenzo who responded to Noahâs declaration.Â
âNo,â he said. âFirstly, this community is not just ours, itâs yours now, too. Our sanctuary transcends royalty and government jurisdiction. Thereâs a higher power at play here, one that protects us. Besides, weâre well-equipped to handle such situations. Many of us come from similar backgrounds. Weâre accustomed to defending our own, and you two are now part of our community.â
Noah was not expecting that, and neither was I.Â
âYou will be all right,â the old lady assured me, redirecting my focus away from the conversation. Her gentle pat on my shoulder offered solace. I was about to reach for my neck, but she shook her head, advising against it. âIt will heal just fine but avoid touching it. Keep it clean throughout the day, and it will soon fade awayâ.Â
A soft âthank youâ escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the kindness and care we were receiving. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I sat up on the bed, seeking out Noahâs attention with a silent plea.Â
Finally, he noticed my distress and approached me. His arm enveloped my shoulders once more, while his other hand gently cradled the back of my head. As I wrapped my arms around him, he pressed me to his chest, planting a tender kiss on my hair as I struggled to contain my tears.Â
We journeyed back to the sanctuary on horseback, a magnificent creature provided by a local resident keen on making our trip back quicker. Kenzo rode at the front on his own horse. I rode together with Noah, seated in front of him, feeling the tension emanating from his body envelop me. I could sense his restraint in his muscles, on his chest pressed against my back. I could see it at the way his grip tightened on the horse leash, his knuckles whitening.Â
Upon crossing the southwest gate, Noah dismounted first, reaching out to lift me down from the horse. As my feet touched the ground, a fleeting sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be within the safety of the community once more.Â
However, my respite was short-lived. Â
After we secured the horses and made our way toward the main square, an eerie silence hung in the air, contrasting the usual bustle of activity we had found the day before. There were no deer grazing nearby, no childrenâs laughter echoing through the streets.Â
I noticed Rei, Maura, and two others approaching us, their expressions somber, katanas sheathed at their waists.Â
âThe Shogun is here,â Maura announced.Â
The moment the news reached me, I spotted my father approaching us, coming down from the main stone path, his battle armor on, weapons ready, surrounded by an army of at least eight Samurai, flanking him from each side. His stride was determined, and the look on his eyes fierce.Â
My heart clenched.
No. I wonât let him get near Noah again.Â
I seized hold of Noahâs katana, drawing it from its sheath, ready to fight my father one more time.Â
The last time.Â
Author's note: I just want to say thank you to each of you that has shown love in any way for this fic. I started it as a oneshot from a random idea i got after seeing a picture of Noah with a katana, and here we are now. I have spent hours writing these chapters and doing research and trying to make my writing as good as it can get, considering the historical aspect of this fic. It means a lot to me to know that you're following Noah's and his princess' journey. I can't wait to share with you the next part very soon and then, the epilogue.
All my love <3
Readers tagged: @thescarlettvvitch | @girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel | (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part and the epilogue <3:)
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