Open Skies

Summary: It's not yet summer, but it soon will be. TwoShot- Kiki, Mitsuhide. Twenty words – twenty drabbles.

Warning: Vignettes. Undefined length, alternating viewpoints. Kiki and Mitsuhide at various stages of their relationship. No fixed chronology. Posted in two parts.

Set: Story-unrelated. May hint at chapters here and there.

Disclaimer: Standards apply.

Part I

i. Fairytales

Kiki hasn't yet been able to define it, but she's working on it.

She cannot say when it started, really, that she looked at her partner and thought he could make me fall for him. Maybe it was on the training field, with only her father and Prince Zen as witnesses, when he came to her aid and offered her his strength. He didn't even bat an eyelash when Hisame started badmouthing him right away, with the cruel and thoughtless arrogance nobility cultivated. Maybe it was because his face was so unyielding, the gaze in his eyes so steadfast and bare of any doubts. Maybe, though, it was later, maybe sometime during the first assignment Zen send them both on. Maybe when he tried so desperately to talk her out of offering up herself as bait to find Shirayuki's abductors, or when he came to her rescue, later, in the pirates' cave, his face a thunderous cloud of anger in the face of her being hurt. Maybe it was one late evening at a fire place, somewhere in a hostel along the path to Wistal, with Kiki's wet hair drying slowly and Mitsuhide smiling and saying he'd probably marry someone who cared for Zen as much as he did. Maybe it was when he accidentally came into contact with that potion that made him so stiff and unfamiliar and, at the same time, showing her a completely different side of the man she had thought she had known completely. Or when he was so obviously hurt by her secret and the things she had kept from him but still willingly gave up their sparring match, when he chose to protect her future over his own pride and hurt. She has thought about it so often she can see all the little pieces, the tiny puzzles, come together, and yet she cannot pinpoint a moment.

She does not know where. Clarines, Tanburn, Lyrias. Her journeys with Zen and Mitsuhide have blurred into a tapestry of colors, sounds, voices and faces. She remembers a small stone house on the top of a cliff over the raging ocean, a royal mansion at the border of Tanburn, a secret entrance that leads from the Castle to Wistal. She remembers visits at the Knights' orders, travels on land and on sea, snow-capped mountains in the north and endless plains in the south. And in every place, every picture she carries in her heart, she can see glimpses of Mitsuhide. Because he was there with her, and he has left his impression on her memories in the same way he has left an impression in her heart.

There are a million little things that make him so devastatingly, painfully Mitsuhide. Remembering is like a myriad of ghostly touches – familiar, cool – on her skin. The way he frowns before he smiles, his brows rising into his hairline. The way his eyes are sharp and rarely miss something while he still pretends not to have seen anything as to not worry or frighten people. When he is deep in thought, his right hand unconsciously wraps around his sword-hilt. The way he decides for a security protocol for them every morning, because Zen's protection is what is his responsibility and he fulfills his task with the utmost care.

Mitsuhide is the only one who can stand his own when they are sparring.

He can smile in a thousand different ways. Kiki mapped out each one of his expressions and wants to remember each, one by one. He holds doors for everyone, women especially and other men included. His hair sticks up extremely messy when he's been in the rain, or when whatever he is working on is exhausting him to the point that he keeps dragging his hands through the two-colored, blond-brown strands. When he is tired he gets silent, when he is angry his voice lowers fractionally until it is a low, threatening hiss. When he is happy, there is a light shining in his eyes, and it is enough-

Kiki should probably be afraid of how well she knows him. And still. In the grand scheme of things the questions for the when, the how and the why pale, fade away until there is nothing left but herself, shivering under the cool scrutiny of her own analytic mind.

You know, you can rely on us. On me. I'll always be there.

Kiki chooses to believe, just this one time: believe in her Prince and her Knight and in the fairytale they give her.

ii. Rivals

"You're really an indisputable moron, Mitsuhide."

Zen is laughing so hard he's doubling over, holding his stomach, and Mitsuhide is mortified.

But, seen from close up – when he really looks at her and not just looks at her – it is clear that Kiki is a woman. How Mitsuhide could ever have mistaken her for a man is beyond him.

(It is not completely off the mark, though. She was wearing the shapeless traveling cloak that concealed her stature and her silver hair was short and close-cropped. She carried a sword at her side. Kiki is small, and petite, and her face shows little to no expression. So, at first glance, he had looked at her and had seen a fellow knight. A man.)

But she's good with the sword. She's strong, albeit not as strong as him, and she's incredibly fast. Mitsuhide measures the worth of people not only by their strength and ability, though, but also by their character. And Kiki is a good, dependable, and, most important of all: a loyal person.

She's also Zen's knight, and sometimes Mitsuhide feels jealous.

"Get some rest," Zen says and reaches for the next bundle of scrolls without bothering to look at him. "Send Kiki inside, will you?"

And Mitsuhide is dismissed, just like that.

I was here first, he wants to say. I know him longest. He trusts me most.

(It is irrational. He approved of her, after all, otherwise Zen wouldn't have made her his second aide. Still. There is something in Kiki's eyes that makes him feel powerless, on times, and she is so efficient and strong and excellent in everything she does that sometimes Mitsuhide thinks Zen doesn't really need him when he has Kiki.)

It is childish, and stupid, and he does not like this jealous streak of his at all. He would rip it out of him with his own hands, if he only could.

"I will fight a chosen champion of yours, Prince Zen."

And their gazes lock, and Kiki takes a step back. "You're a better match for him," she says, and she may or may not be right.

Fact is, she could probably take on every challenge Mitsuhide could. Kiki is everything a knight should be. She is strong, and fast, and she likes the fight. She can be ruthless, she is compassionate, she is loyal and she loves her liege lord. She can question orders and can use her own authority to give orders, if necessary. She is devoted. She is dedicated, sharp and intelligent, able to make split-second decisions, she has a good intuition and would give everything to save her lord. There is nothing in her that Mitsuhide dislikes. She also never made a move to bring herself closer to Zen, to push Mitsuhide aside, and he knows she would not in an eternity try to replace him. She is the best sparring partner he could wish for, a good friend, a good companion, an amazing fighter and the best partner he could ever wish for. And the moment he admits they are partners, the more impossible it becomes to see her as a rival. They work together. It is simple as that.

"Zen trusts you." Shirayuki's hair dances in the wind.

"He trusts Mitsuhide more," Kiki says and a brightness lights up in her eyes. And Mitsuhide cannot help his blushing.

"He trusts both of us equally."

Kiki smiles, gracefully. The message is received. Mitsuhide thinks that he is childish, and stupid, and that he has absolutely no reason to be jealous of Kiki. But he realized that, and don't the people say that realization is the first step towards betterment? Zen would never favor one of them above the other. And Kiki knows, and she knows Mitsuhide knows, and she knows he knows she knows. But she also understands him, and she accepts it.

For that, he loves her.

iii. Knights

Mitsuhide is old-fashioned.

Kiki can see it in the way he greets the ladies-in-waiting and the Lord's wives and daughters. The awkwardly blushing boy from the past has seemingly grown into adulthood, but the manners and politeness that always was in his character hasn't left him. He bows his head respectfully in front of the Ladies and nods politely at the maids. He smiles – when does he not smile – at the Princesses and their entourage. He holds his step to let them pass and offers a hand when they embark from the coaches they have traveled in. He has a polite greeting for even the sourest old hag and a honest smile for the ones that offer him a greeting in answer. He is ready to assist anyone who comes seeking his assistance, and even to those who don't. He fights like a storm, fast, lethal and determined. He's a knight in every aspect that matters and although he has accepted her as his partner and equal wholeheartedly, sometimes Kiki can see his instincts fight his mind.

She doesn't need a shield.

Kiki doesn't need someone to guard her and protect her. She doesn't need a knight in shining armor who rides to her rescue from dragons and witches and towers. She can fight for herself, she can care for herself and speak for herself, and she is proud of it. She doesn't need Mitsuhide to engage the random guys they meet on journeys, the ones that are too drunk to realize there is a reason she is carrying a sword and travelling in the company of sword-wielding knights. She doesn't need him to duel for her honor, or to protect her from the sight of the dead body of a poor man that is found mutilated on the side of the road. She doesn't need him to try to keep the horrors and the ugly sides of the world from her, because she can deal with it when she has to. She might not be a man, but she is strong.

What Kiki needs Mitsuhide to be is her partner.

Someone who has her back when she is in a fight, someone she can trust to watch out for her when it comes to it. Someone who knows exactly in which direction she will move in order to cover the other side. Someone who she can communicate with wordlessly, who knows what she is thinking and can adapt his thinking to her. Someone to whose thinking she can adapt, too. Someone who laughs with her and is silent when she doesn't feel like talking. Someone she can trust, with her entire soul and her entire mind, and whom she wants by her side for the rest of her life.

Mitsuhide is her other half, in many ways that can be explained and for many more inexplicable reasons.

iv. Sword

"It's so like you," Kiki mumbles as her hand caresses the sheath of his sword.

Mitsuhide stares. She came to pick him up in his room and she's not later or earlier than usual. She's dressed as usual, with her now-short hair falling unto her shoulders. Her sword hangs by her side and she entered his room as usual, and Mitsuhide is in the process of belting on his sword belt when she enters.

Kiki's hand carefully slides down the worn leather sheath with its markings and its faded, red velvet cord and his first thought is that this would be her, touching other people's stuff when she would never let anyone touch her own sword – except for him, perhaps. And despite the fact that this is his sword, his weapon, the one thing that has shed all the blood that sticks to his hands that sometimes makes him wake up drenched in sweat – despite everything, the gesture feels incredibly intimate. As if she was touching him. Mitsuhide watches her hand make its way down and up again and for some reason, his breath catches in his throat.

Sunlight falls through the high, open windows. Kiki's hair is molten crystal.

Then she smiles, and takes a few steps back, and Mitsuhide fights the blush that is creeping up his throat and steps forward to take his weapon. He holds the door for her and waits until she has left his room.

When she passes him, he catches the scent of her soap.

v. Castle of Glass

Her memories are a castle with see-through walls and floors and ceilings.

From every corner of it, Kiki can see the moments of her life fly by. Full of color and without, silent and loud, sad and happy and tense and desperate and glorious. Of course, the rooms are dedicated to certain times in her life. Her mother lives in a room just off the main corridor, in a sunlit, warm salon that holds Kiki's earliest memories of her parents. In it, the now-deceased Lady of the Seiran House sits in the red armchair, sometimes reading, sometimes stitching and sometimes idle-handed but rocking a small girl in her arms softly. Her voice fills the room: warm, silent or strong, or all at the same time. Her laughter dances through the air. Sometimes she moves – cooking, playing hide-and-seek, sometimes she stands at the window stock-still and Kiki knows she is waiting for her husband to return. In her memories, her mother is very alive, and will always remain that way.

Other rooms are dedicated to her education. There is a library filled with books, and filled with different tutors and sword-masters and stable-boys. The latter of them always appear a bit out of place in the beautiful hall filled with shelves with books, but that way she gets to remember them and their lessons even more clearly.

Her father is in his study. In this room, she keeps the memories of failures. The Lord of the Seiran House is nothing but strict and he wants his daughter to succeed him. From her early childhood on Kiki has learned to be the person her position requires. Her father always expected her very best of her and on the road she has made many mistakes. They are cataloged away here, as well, but there also are the times when he praised her, or smiled at her and told her he was proud. The time when he refused to continue business with a wealthy partner because the man had felt insulted by Kiki and her father had stood up for her. When it comes down to it Kiki knows her father is strict, and she will never be able to please him completely and entirely. But he loves her, and that is all that matters.

So many people. Twenty-one summers.

Zen. Zen and Obi and Shirayuki, and Ryu, and even the Head Pharmacist and the scientists from Lyrias. Prince Izana. Five years in the Castle and she has accumulated enough memories to fill various rooms and even a whole floor. It's only one of the things that makes her think that what they have is special, so special she does not dare to put it into words. Kiki never was the person to talk much but here, she does not even dare to think that this is something precious. Her relationship to these precious, precious people for whom she would go to the ends of the world to protect them. Kiki became an aide to Prince Zen because she thought she had found the only two people on earth whom she would allow to share her burden with her. Now she realizes there are even more. (She's not sure whether she should count Obi in, because he's annoying and constantly nagging and he sees far too much, but she's more comfortable with him now than she was in the past and maybe – well.)

Oh, and Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide is everywhere, wherever she looks. She can see his kind smile and his embarrassed expression and his sheepish grin and she likes them all so much she feels like crying over them. He is there with the mask of concentration he shows when he is completely immersed in his work and with the wary, guarded expression he has around strangers. There is the cool calculation he wears in training spars and the coldness when he faces their enemies protecting Zen and Shirayuki. There is so much of him – the warmth of his body next to hers after training, the sound of his laughter, the gestures his hands make in the air before him when he explains something. And Kiki wants to file it all away – every single detail, every sound, every bit of him – put it away safely, keep it in her memory and take it out and look at it whenever she wants to. It feels like she is keeping little pieces of Mitsuhide and for some selfish, illogical reason she does not want to share. Those bits and pieces have expanded until they filled not only her memory castle but her heart and her soul, as well, and it is difficult to distinguish herself from him nowadays.

And while she is not sure what exactly it means – despite from the fact that she has completely, utterly given him her heart – she thinks there could be worse ways to live.

Her mother once told her that a princess couldn't live in a castle of glass her entire life. Kiki knows she has to step out of hers one day or another, and maybe telling Zen was a start. What remains is telling Mitsuhide, this stupid, wonderful, imperfect and amazing person that is her partner in so many unbelievable aspects. For some undefinable reason, she is not afraid. Mitsuhide is see-through, transparent like glass. She can see he cares for her. So this will be it, sometime in the future.

But until then – Zen.

vi. Longest Night

Sometimes, fear creep up on a person unsuspected and suddenly. Sometimes, fear is a well-known enemy, almost as familiar as any friend. The danger lies in the fact that nothing can be done to stop it.

Because Mitsuhide is a good knight. He's a brilliant fighter and a good strategist. He can evaluate tricky situations quickly, can make level-headed decisions under duress and can calculate the best outcome of many unfavorable outcomes. Mitsuhide can fight thugs, kidnappers, pirates, mercenaries, traitors, rebels, assassins and shinobi, he can protect Zen from bodily harm and from overworking himself, can make him sleep and can wake him, he can make him eat and remind him of his duties and keep him from gossip and take his mind off his work by sparring with him. Mitsuhide is strong, capable and a good knight.

But he cannot protect Zen from illness.

The Second Prince has been trained to withstand poisoning. He also has a Castle Pharmacy with very capable pharmacists and the best ingredients and medicines a person can get for his money. But sometimes, sometimes, even Prince Zen Wistalia of Clarines falls prey to a sickness. And sometimes - crucial, painful times - there is nothing that can be done except for waiting for the fever to break.

The Head Pharmacist has come and gone, leaving the scent of peppermint and medicinal alcohol behind. She has personally sat at Zen's bed for the last eight hours until Kiki sent her away, promising to notify her at the slightest change in the Prince's condition. And Mitsuhide is insanely grateful that she also is the one who sends sniffling, doting maids away and makes servants get fresh, cold water for the cooling wraps and requests a cold meal for them from the kitchen because he cannot concentrate on anything besides Zen right now.

The room is quiet except for Zen's labored breathing and the soft rustling of cloth when Kiki moves. Mitsuhide does not know how long he has sat here that way. The only thing he focuses on is the restlessly-moving figure on the bed – Zen looks so small when he's ill, so much like the young boy he is and not like the Prince – and has counted his breaths. Sometimes, they hitch, and every time it happens Mitsuhide stops breathing and starts counting. It seems to take an eternity until Zen draws in a long, rattling breath again and continues on and every time Mitsuhide's shoulders fall in immeasurable relief. The illness is serious, he knows that much, but he also knows Zen is young and strong and a fighter. Still, there always is the possibility of and he does not even want to think-

(Because it never was as bad as this before.)

Even the Head Pharmacist had been worried. Mitsuhide closes his eyes and concentrates on Zen's breathing and forgets the world around him.

One. Two. Three...

It is a long night.

He must have fallen asleep for a short period of time. He opens his eyes again at the soft sound of the curtains of the window on the other side of the bed being drawn, and from the outside a pale moon shines into the room. He needs a second until he realizes the figure standing outlined against the window is Kiki. Of course it would be her because Mitsuhide prides himself in not letting his guard down. When she sees he's awake, she joins him at Zen's side: Mitsuhide in his chair, Kiki on the window seat. Together, they listen to the silence of the room and to Zen: the breath he draws is still rattling and labored, and his body is still burning. But he seems calmer now, his face more relaxed than ever since the sickness confined him to bed, and Mitsuhide feels a pang of shock. He feels Zen's forehead – hot, but not glowing – and whirls around to Kiki who has followed with a frown. She touches Zen's head now, too, and something spreads over her face Mitsuhide only slowly recognizes as the relief than he allows himself only now then, too.

Wordlessly, Kiki looks at him and Mitsuhide stumbles back, drops onto the window seat heavily and buries his face in his hands. The glass of the window is cool in his back. He more feels than hears Kiki settle onto the small bench next to him. It is barely wide enough for two grown people but she always was slender. Her side presses into his in a way that is both comforting and seemingly desperate for reassurance. And isn't it strange how much two people can share when connected to another human being? Mitsuhide can feel her shoulders tremble and knows Kiki is as relieved as he is, and that she is just as scared of losing Zen as he is.

They just sit there, her shoulder touching his, and stare into the darkness.

Zen's breath evens out and he sleeps soundly, and they keep watch over him.

vii. Dowry

Sometimes, she wonders.

Kiki is the only daughter of the Seiran House, the heiress of her age-old lineage. She has been brought up with the wealth and power that stands behind the name of her family. She has lived in a castle, has had her own teachers, her own pets and everything she could wish for. Apparently her childhood hadn't spoiled her, since she wasn't as ignorant and arrogant as she had experienced many girls of her status to be. But despite her character, her strength and her loyalty to Zen there still were worlds that divided them - her and Mitsuhide.

She does not care.

Still, somehow, Kiki doesn't think Mitsuhide will think nothing of it. She can almost hear him: sixth son of a family with six boys and two girls. The youngest son who has no claim whatsoever to title, land or even money and who joined the Knights out of necessity and stayed because of loyalty. She can see his face: he, who has nothing but the name and the position he made for himself, would hate to ask for her hand in marriage, seeing as he has nothing to offer.

"I cannot give you anything."

(Kiki, at heart, is not romantic, only realistic.)

"I don't care."

Kiki has enough estate for the two of them, and enough money and title and power. Things like those are not what she wants from Mitsuhide. She doesn't even need his life, because it already belongs to Zen and she would never take it away from him. There is something else, something so much more precious than wealth and power that she wishes for him to give to her: his sword and his heart.

Incidentally, those are the only two things Mitsuhide has to give, and can give away freely.

viii. Tangle

Born into a family of five elder brothers, two elder sisters and an extended net of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents, Mitsuhide cannot remember a day when he was by himself.

There always is someone there to play with him or to tease him – and that they do well, tease him, because that is what elder brothers do – but he also is beloved. He might not have known the word as a child, but he feels as much. His mother is mild and kind and his father is strict and humorous. Sometimes Mitsuhide thinks that he has a fairytale childhood, that he is been really, really lucky to be born with all those people who care for him that much. Because of that, he never minds the fact that he is the sixth son, the one who won't inherit anything: in fact, there isn't much to inherit to begin with. And it is fine. He can live with that.

The day Mitsuhide leaves his home he feels very alone.

He finds a new home at the Castle, with all the knights and knights-in-training. And he becomes well-known quickly, liked for his easygoing nature, his fast humor and his hard work. He makes a home for himself. Of course, not everybody likes him, but most like him well enough. And that is fine with him.

Mitsuhide. On the path you will begin today we can only give you our advice, and our love. Remember this: human beings are not meant to be alone. Be kind and be wary. Be patient and know when to act. And when the time comes you think you can give away your whole self, do it without reservations. But choose wisely.

Still, as much as people drift towards other people, they still remain individual entities. It's not difficult to understand. It goes like this: Mitsuhide is Zen's aide and sworn knight, and will be so until he dies or Zen sends him away. He is Zen's friend, too, and sometimes a mentor-figure, and sometimes someone the Second Prince can vent his anger on or his loneliness. (Human beings are not meant…) But Mitsuhide will never be Zen, and Zen will never be Mitsuhide. It is a simple concept. No human can just stop being who he is, and the boundaries are always clear.

But not with Kiki.

At one point Kiki got tangled into him, and he isn't sure what it means for the two of them. They're always together. She picks him up in his room at morning, or he picks her up, depending on who has guarded Zen in the last shift of the night watch. They have breakfast with Zen, they help him with his work, they have a quick lunch. The afternoons are more work, or sparring, and sometimes trips to the town or other castles, or just walks when Zen and Shirayuki manage to get a bit of time off their duties to spend it together. Sometimes formal events in the evening, balls, dinners, the like, and Mitsuhide and Kiki are always together. They train together, they work together, they guard Zen together, and it shouldn't be possible but it is and it makes him wonder. Because Mitsuhide never particularly longs for time for himself, except, sometimes, when he has a reason to want to be alone.

But he isn't sure whether it is the same for Kiki.

She's such a withdrawn character. She never seemed like she particularly cared for having someone beside her. Kiki doesn't need people like Mitsuhide needs them, to talk to them and make them laugh and laugh with them, or to just watch them going on in their daily work. Kiki doesn't need other people to define herself. So what if she gets tired of him one day?

… Without reservation.

So Mitsuhide has reached the point when he looks at something and knows both his and Kiki's opinion regarding the subject. Or he sees something and can hear her reaction in his mind. He knows how she moves – so gracefully, so incredibly beautiful – and knows where he needs to be to counter her attack. And he knows where to be when she needs him. It shouldn't be possible, but somehow it is. And he doesn't know how he is supposed to feel about it, or how Kiki feels about it. Or whether she even thinks they are having something special.

Mitsuhide can still hear his mother's voice.

Humans are born in order to search for the one thing they cannot live without.

He doesn't know about Kiki, but he thinks he might have found his reason.

ix. Flower

"What do you think would suit her?"

Kiki thinks that it is a beautiful day, that the sun is shining and the air is mild, and the wind that drifts up from the ocean smells like salt and sea and vastness. Kiki thinks that she now knows why Zen wanted to sneak out of the castle and why he specifically distracted Mitsuhide and asked her to come with him instead. Kiki thinks that Shirayuki loves all plants, even the ones that don't bloom or are poisonous or thorny or plain ugly, and that she would be happy with whatever Zen gives to her for Spring Equinox. Kiki thinks that it is an antiquated ritual, men giving women flowers for the time of the year day kisses night, but a nice one, nevertheless, and that she is the last person he should ask such obviously womanly questions because, well, look at her. But Kiki also thinks she has been raised as a heiress to a great House and that she knows her way with flowers, their meanings and their arrangements, and that, therefore, Zen might have been right when he forced her to come with him. For once.

"I think you should go with local flowers," she therefore says. "Shirayuki probably often feels like an exotic specimen herself. She might like something beautiful but native."

Zen, standing in front of the well-visited flower market of Wistalia City, looks lost. On their way he had tried to defend his trip to town: he couldn't just take flowers from the Royal Gardens. It was boring and predictable and besides, as a Court Pharmacist, Shirayuki was in part responsible for the hothouses, as well. He couldn't just take something she saw every day-

It's sweet, really. Kiki smiles.

"Prince Zen," a flower lady finally spots him and Kiki would swear, these women have eyes like hawks, voices like doves and endurance like… Well, a lot of it. At first, Zen had made a half-hearted attempt to disguise himself but in the city itself and with Kiki trailing in his wake it was pretty clear who he was. "Are you looking for a bouquet for Spring Equinox? What can we humble flower women offer you that doesn't grow in your splendid Royal Gardens? Here, look at these beauties, their color matches your-" Your face, Kiki thinks. "And look, here…"

It takes Zen the better part of an hour to decide, and then a bit longer to detach himself from the very helpful women that had ambled over to watch the drama enfold. On their way back to the castle his face is still flushed but he holds the carefully wrapped flowers like he's won a war. In her eyes, he has.

"A good choice," Kiki says and thinks of the small, white flowers she saw that seemed so insignificant and plain next to the beautiful, exotic lilies one flower stand had sold. Usually, she isn't into flowers and stuff. But they had been tiny and white as snow, their scent sweet and natural. They are nothing even next to the beautiful but modest flowers Zen has chosen but somehow, she liked them. She wonders whether someone would be able to tell her the name. Shirayuki, perhaps.

Shirayuki's face glows when Zen presents her the gift. Zen blushes, as well. Kiki, Mitsuhide and Obi watch the young couple and even Obi refrains from making stupid comments for once. It is endearing. The air is cool and the night sky clear, and the moon illuminates the picture. When Kiki returns to her room later she finds a small bouquet on her vanity, along with a small card with a familiar handwriting. It doesn't mean anything special, she knows. Mitsuhide sees her as a friend. Still, the gesture makes her heart beat speed up and she smiles into the darkness softly. And how, exactly, did he know-

The scent of the small, white flowers follows her into her dreams.

x. Sleep

When he wakes up for the first time and sees Kiki's sleeping figure next to him it is the most normal thing in the world.

Her golden hair is tousled and messy and surrounds her face like a bright halo. She is buried under the blankets and completely relaxed, her breath coming in soft, even waves, her chest rising and sinking. And Mitsuhide thinks that the first thing that should have come to his mind are the events of the last night, Kiki's body flush against his and her hands in his hair but the first thing he thinks of is how incredibly, incredibly beautiful she is, and how he wants to wake up next to her just like that for the rest of his life. He has the distinct feeling Obi would frown at him and give some very wary, very much tell-tale sigh, and Zen might comment on his hopelessness and cheesiness. But he also knows Kiki would smirk at him; with her tiny, barely visible smile that just manages to lift the corners of her lips but that shines from her eyes with an intensity that warms his entire body. And that is all Mitsuhide needs.

Being able to watch her sleep like that is only one of the myriad of tiny things in their life together that make him smile.