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He heard his mother say if you listen hard enough, the sakaki trees whisper among themselves. The leaves of the hinoki and kansugi will rustle against the strong, warm breeze. They will beckon to you.
The forest around the Yato Shrine runs deep underneath the mountain, greener and mightier with each step further in. Masaki found himself lost as a very young child before, terrified by the noises he then assumed were feral, evil demons meaning to claim him, to drag him beneath the cold, hard soil into the underworld.
Ridiculous. There's no such thing.
Which is why Masaki had no problem laughing at a flustered, overly emotional Minato worrying about him disappearing. Minato reminds him of himself. Sometimes. He's a little too wound-up for his age.
Red tsubaki and sumire and ajisai, with their petals turning lavender and a rich blue, glitter with morning dew. Their fragrant, flowery odor wafting into Masaki's nose. He pads around the kyudojo, preparing to head to where the boys are resting. As the losers to their mock-tournament, it's up to Masaki — part of the winning team — to remind them of their serving chores and punishment.
He adjusts his bright blue hakama, clearing his throat haughtily and pushing open the doors. Masaki opens his mouth to announce himself, and then pauses. Unlike the four other boys who are tranquil in their sleep, Minato whines out, flinching and slightly thrashing. His brow dripping with sweat.
A loud, tormented cry rips out of him, prickling the hairs on Masaki's arms. The boy jerks himself upright from his futon, wheezing for air, startling everyone back to consciousness.
"Huhhh…?" Nanao mutters, snort-snoring.
Kaito glares around, rubbing his eyes with his balled-up fists. "What the HELL—!?" he yells.
"Are you okay, Minato?" Ryohei speaks up, immediately noticing how those clear green eyes bulge open. When the other boy doesn't answer, he scoots forward and reaches to hold onto Minato's shoulder.
Seiya grabs curtly onto Ryohei's hand, stopping him. Even Seiya appears troubled, wide awake.
"Minato—"
Calm, reassuring words do nothing.
Masaki can see the humiliation and panic and fear rising in Minato's expression. He bolts, clutching onto his left side, narrowly avoiding from hitting into the older man as a grim-faced Masaki shifts out of the reception hall's doorway, allowing Minato to disappear into the corridor and around the bend.
His teammates protest, shouting for Minato, climbing to their feet.
"Everyone, don't worry," Masaki says, raising his voice firmly over them. He motions for everyone to remain where they are, and offers a gentle, smiling look. "I'll come back with Minato… promise."
There is no guarantee they will listen, especially Seiya and Ryohei.
Masaki wanders out to the practice hall, glancing in. Barely any sunlight during the early morning. The greyness fades into Minato's also grey-and-dark-grey top. He's sitting by himself, facing the open-air enclosure, his right arm wrapped fiercely around his stomach. Minato's breathing heavy and noticeable.
Thankfully, the boy doesn't jump up and run as Masaki joins him, their hips pressing together.
"You gave us quite a fright…" he murmurs. "You okay?"
His blue eyes wandering over Minato's tense, unnaturally pasty face.
"I just n-need a, mmhm," Minato's quivering lips flatten down, as he loses control of the rest of his sentence, closing his tear-glistening eyes, "minute," Masaki doesn't bother to interrupt him, keeping his expression soft and neutral, "just a minute… please…" Minato finally says, gasping out, almost begging him.
He's not gonna let Minato blackout from a sudden emotional overload.
Not at his family's shine, not ever.
Masaki eases the boy's arm back to his side, feeling Minato resist initially before Masaki hums out, stroking the inside of Minato's forearm a little with his thumb.
"Head down," he instructs, cradling the back of Minato's head and urging him to drop over between his knees. "Keep it low, alright? Long, deep breathes. Go slow. In… and, breathe out…"
Masaki syncs up his own breathing with him, feeling all of the rigid muscles loosening.
"In… let it out, good," he whispers, helping a flush-faced Minato straighten up. "Very good."
"Masa-san…"
Tears roll down Minato's cheeks. It's beautifully devastating.
He sags, clutching Masaki's white kyudogi. There's nothing to do but let Minato fall against him, combing his fingers into dark, moist tangles of hair and whispering out Minato's name like an apology. Quiet, hiccuping sobs. Masaki embraces him fully, biting on his lower lip and resting his cheek to the top of Minato's head.
"You're not in the dream anymore," Masaki reminds him. "I'm here with you… I always will be."
Maybe his whispers, promises, will reach the trees. Bloom them to life.
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Tsurune isn't mine. I'M A LITTLE WEAK FOR HURT/COMFORT. SO SUE ME. The light novels are so different from the anime but it's okay! I love all variations of these two! Conner (glove23) is watching with me so I wanna thank her for putting up with me safnjfsn and if you love Tsurune, come say hi! Any thoughts appreciated!