"We don't fit in here…"

Noire's voice trembles, barely audible over the chatter outside of the dark tent.

It's merely a whisper, but Laurent hears nonetheless. The tides of fate were cruel and merciless. Dragged away from their home world, and into yet another war. What irony. Louder voices filter in from the outside. Their comrades in Hoshido are surely as boisterous as those back home. Laurent's not completely sure what to tell her as he sits across from her, seated atop of a crate in the dark weapons' tent. Noire was never built for fighting, Laurent realized long ago. Maybe her mother's twisted treatment of her was apart of it. Then again, he was much more content in a library than on a battlefield. Ever since they had arrived in the realm of Hoshido and Nohr, they had little to no time for themselves, constantly working and under pressure as royal retainers.

He hears a small whimper, and he realizes that he had been consumed with his thoughts. Noire's small hands tremble in her lap. Even though he can barely see her face, he knows she's tearing up. Years of fighting alongside her and interacting with her have allowed him to read her better than most others can. He clenches the tome in his arms harder. Pale, chapped lips open to speak to her, to comfort her, but the tent flap is abruptly thrown open before he can say anything.

"Huh? What're you two doing in here?" Hinata's rowdy voice breaks the silence instead, light streaming into the tent, causing Laurent to squint. The brunette's not the smartest man around, but he gets his job as Takumi's retainer done. Laurent is well aware that he doesn't fit in with Hinata and Oboro. But he does what he's supposed to, and that's all that matters. They'll be returning home eventually. Forming ties here will be pointless. Laurent lifts his gaze from Noire, who withdraws even more at the sight of the samurai, and speaks.

"It's…" He struggles for a moment. Gods, why can't he be better than this? Social interaction is not his forte, nor has it ever been."…none of your concern." The lot of them had little time to talk these days. Any time together was appreciated. Hinata's brows furrow in a puzzled manner. Before he can inquire further, Laurent stands up, clears his throat as though trying to clear the tense atmosphere. "I'm sure Lady Hinoka needs you, Kuro." Noire's new name still sounds foreign as it rolls over his tongue. The archer struggles to stand for a moment, and when she does, she's still shaking. Laurent can't stand to see her so afraid, so anxious. "Does Lord Takumi require my presence?"

"No…" Hinata answers, trailing off awkwardly, and opens his mouth to speak again. The samurai is usually a people-person. Which is why Laurent goes so far to avoid interacting with him. Before Hinata can say anything else, Laurent interrupts him sharply.

"Excuse us, then." With that, Laurent grasps Noire's smaller hand, tugging the distressed young woman out of the dark tent, and into the sunlight, where he notices she's paler than before.

Hinata is an afterthought. Laurent feels the samurai's inquisitive gaze on his back for a moment, before ducking around a corner. Noire stumbles along, uncoordinated, and Laurent slows his pace, a hand on the small of her back to support her. Soldiers mill about the outside of the palace, but they're not paying attention to either retainer.

"It's okay, Noire." The archer trembles as he speaks. She's been riddled with more anxiety than usual ever since their arrival, right before the death of Queen Mikoto. "We'll be able to go home soon." Laurent's words are empty promises. They both know that. But it seems to help Noire cope nonetheless. If only Cynthia or Kjelle were here… Alas, Cynthia was Ryoma's retainer, and was kept even busier than either of them. Laurent feels himself become wearier, weighed down by exhaustion.

"Let's go get you something to eat." She says nothing as he tugs her along, but he knows they both feel alienated in this place. Lost in a world so unfamiliar and unfriendly in comparison to their own.


"Geez!" Cynthia huffs, but there's a delighted grin on her face as she looks down at the lumber she's painstakingly gathered. The firewood is dropped into the huge pile. She can say with pride that she's chopped it down it all on her own! With her arms crossed, she swerves around, only to stumble backwards as she meets the chest of Saizo. Her feet shuffle backwards, and she feels the air whoosh around her as she takes a tumble downwards. A split second of terror causes her to give a small shriek, but her back never meets the wood pile. A strong arm is secured around her back, heaving her upwards and back onto her feet.

"Thanks, Saizo! You're a lifesaver!" She chirps, patting him on the shoulder. For a brief moment, he's silent, gaze shifting between her shorter form and the massive wood pile. "Does Lord Ryoma need anything? I'll be there lickity split!" She assures, cheery grin never leaving her gaze.

"Your saving grace is that you're loyal to Lord Ryoma." His voice is gruff, as it always is. He's a critical guy, Cynthia realized long ago. Stealthy, strong, not to be underestimated… And, he kind of reminds her of a rooster. "Impressive, for you to be able to chop down so much and not break a sweat. But your oblivious attitude is going to get you killed if you don't start paying more attention." A compliment and an insult in the same breath. Cynthia's gotten accustomed to it all, for the most part. Before she can even speak again, his sharp voice rings out. "I'll have the other soldiers take care of the wood."

"Thanks, Saizo!" She gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder. For a second, his good eye widens and his firm body jerks just slightly. Must have surprised him. The sky knight gives a small giggle, before skipping off. "If you're not back by sunset, I'll save you some dinner!" She calls back.

She swears that she hears him give a harassed sigh before she's out of earshot.


"Roen, what a guy!" Oboro's gaze snaps upwards as Hinata boisteriously enters the room, before she returns to busily sewing. The samurai seems to be unusually discontent. Admittedly, she hadn't of been too thrilled with the addition of Roen either, but she had warmed up to him somewhat after seeing his talents on the battlefield. He's useful, and loyal to Lord Takumi. Isn't that what really matters? Hinata continues to stomp around for a brief moment, before flopping down onto the wooden floor, back leaning against the wall. "He was hanging out in the weapons tent with Kuro. It was weird, she seemed all shaky. Then, they completely blew past me. What's up with them?"

"They're a strange bunch." Oboro offers a meager remark, focused on the garment in her hands. Her skillful fingers handle the needle and thread in a masterful manner. A delighted grin crosses her face as she thinks about how cute Mozu will look in it. The smile vanishes soon after. "Chambray, too." The thought strikes her and her concentrated look turns into a frown. Never had she heard of any shape shifter like him. "They're good in battle and they're loyal to us. That's all that matters." She quips dismissively. "As long as they're not traitors, they can do what they like... I'm keeping an eye on him." She shrugs. "So is Saizo." At that, Hinata scoffs, earning him a sharp glare. He quiets down for a moment, and Oboro swerves her gaze away, looking back at her project.

"Still... They should try to be friendlier." He mutters. "Roen doesn't like either of us very much." It's true. Roen hadn't of gone out of his way to interact extensively with any of them, Takumi included. He seemed disinterested in friendships, or relationships overall.

"He takes awhile to warm up to people, I guess." Oboro has a feeling that her speculations are correct. "Shirona's friendlier. Gets along with Saizo easily. He doesn't seem to mind her too much, either." Her words are brief and concise as she sews, much of her concentration on the task at hand. "Kuro's just scared. Don't know why. Maybe she's naturally like that."

"Guess so... Never thought Saizo would warm up to anyone." Hinata mumbles, before standing up again, stretching his arms out. The movement causes Oboro to direct her attention at him again. "Wanna go spar?"

"You know I'll win, but sure." She scoffs, but a cocky grin flashes across her face.

"We'll see about that!"