Chapter Text
Her blade shone in the night, cutting through the bodies around them like a god's naked wrath. She was silent, face screwn up in calm determination as she worked. Yuzuriha stared, heart in her throat like an offering if she could only speak.
There were bodies strewn around them, there was blood in the snow beneath their feet. Sagiri offered her hand and Yuzu took it, the two of them walking away.
-
Yuzuriha only knew how to talk with her body, distress shown in her hunched over shoulders, fear in the tremble of her hands, adoration in the shine of her eyes. Sagiri never seemed to notice that, but she saw everything else. She was kind even in her rigid sharpness, calloused hands gripping her blade before morning even woke up to train, Yuzu constantly finding her at the outskirts of town even in the cold.
Respect was in the quick dagger clashing against Sagiri's blade, Yuzuriha's whip thin smirk on her face like they were enemies again, fighting for their lives on the island. They trained until the sun peeked over the horizon, and Yuzu's whole body ached in proud happiness.
Seduction was in the curling of her body around Sagiri's own, under the pretense of sharing body warmth in the freezing inn room that they shared. It skipped off of Sagiri's bluntness like a stone off a smooth lake. Yuzuriha gave up on that angle.
Caring was in the offering of her rice bowl, the meager servings barely able to fill Yuzuriha's mouth. Sagiri said that Yuzu needed it more than she did, spotless bowl and clean plate sitting in front of her in neat order. The rice tasted like ash in her mouth.
Yuzuriha only knew how to talk with her body. Sagiri didn't seem to be able to talk at all. Their travels were done mostly in silence, Yuzuriha's chatter the only thing filling up the quiet. She wondered if Sagiri even wanted to speak to her sometimes. Those were the days were the cold permeated through Yuzuriha's thin clothing. Sagiri slung her own outer coat over Yuzuriha's shivering shoulders and walked on ahead.
Caring was in the silence Sagiri offered, respect in the way she oiled Yuzu's blades for her. There was never any seduction, Sagiri was too proud a woman for that. She didn't even need to do that anyway, Yuzu had already fallen like a stone off a mountain.
-
It was winter, so the onsens were warm and steaming and occupied often. It was why Yuzuriha vibrated with delight at the sight of it being practically abandoned, dragging Sagiri into a corner and immediately slipping into the water. She looked up to see Sagiri's reddened cheeks, brow adorably furrowed and jaw tense as she tried to not look at her.
Yuzuriha built herself up to be wanted, to be stared at, so that she could see the light drain from them as her knife slipped inside. Sagiri didn't stare, back ramrod straight and polite. She didn't want her. It should have been obvious from the beginning.
-
Sagiri was never cold towards her, always courteous and polite. Yuzuriha entertained the ideas of Sagiri wearing masculine dress, hair cut short and broad shoulders filling out the dark robes she would wear. Yuzuriha would hang off her arm, viper's smile set in place as she walked with her down crowded streets with the silent boast that this was hers.
She really was like a gentleman, letting Yuzuriha pick where they would go next, giving her the largest portions of their shared meals, giving her space and time to do her own thing. It was laughably easy how quick Sagiri's hand in hers made her heart stutter like a lame racehorse nowadays.
It was laughably easy how quick Sagiri's hand in hers made her want to cry.
-
There was blood on Sagiri's cheek, a long cut from cheekbone to temple in a crescent moon curve. It was red. It dripped down into the darkening snow, too little of it from the man whose blade was the culprit, too much of it from Sagiri, willow thin and pale, blood like paint smeared over her cheek.
The man grinned and raised his sword, confidence in his stance. Yuzuriha's blade butterflied his throat open. He collapsed on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Yuzu didn't spare him a second glance, hand cupping Sagiri's cheek as she inspected the wound with a clinical eye.
"Are you alright?" She asked, stepping back a bit to give Sagiri a cursory once over. "He didn't get you anywhere else?"
Sagiri shook her head, face one of stunned shock. Yuzuriha was too busy rifling through their discarded bags, ushering Sagiri over to a fallen log and sitting her down.
Yuzu threw a leg over Sagiri's lap, feeling the other girl straighten at the sudden weight. Yuzuriha tilted Sagiri's chin up with a careful finger, wiping the cut down with a piece of cloth. She blamed the heat from Sagiri's face on the wound. The other possibility was a flayed open chest, with Yuzuriha on the ground this time.
She cleaned Sagiri's cheek up, deftly bandaging it up with much more tenderness than was warranted for a simple head wound. Sagiri stared at her out of the corner of her eye, pupils dark and swallowing up what little light made it through the snow covered treetops.
"What are you doing?" Sagiri rasped, voice low and rumbling. Yuzuriha's hand was on her collarbone, for balance. She picked up the vibrations through her hand, Sagiri's own calloused and large one wrapping around her wrist to gently move it away.
"I'm fixing you up, obviously," Yuzuriha rolled her eyes, smile painted across her lips. "A 'thank you' would be nice."
"Thank you." Sagiri's shoulders were broad under Yuzu's touch, hand placed there by Sagiri's own insistence. Yuzuriha missed the warmth of Sagiri's careful touch.
"I don't like hands near my neck," Sagiri frowned, then laughter danced in her eyes like firelight. "Maybe when I get to know you better."
Yuzuriha blinked, stopped wiping her hands clean as she processed everything. Then she threw her head back and laughed, because Sagiri had made a joke and it was funny, and because if Sagiri looked her in the eyes right then with that stupidly handsome face of hers, Yuzuriha would break down in her arms like a clay pot taken to stone.