by s1ncer1ty
She seemed perturbed as I walked into the great dining hall, and her sullenness only grew the moment I pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She stared wordlessly, sadly, at the feast the cooks had prepared for her, an obscene overabundance of food in the heart of the royal palace when its citizens were reduced to scraping barrel bottoms for one last bowl of rice. And she, in her melancholy, more often than not turned most of it away.
But, wrong or not, I deserved this as much as she did. I've known too well what it was like to beg for food. "You should eat, my lady," I said as I grabbed the nearest bowl of rice and began to scoop some onto my plate.
"I'm not hungry."
"This was prepared just for you." I moved on to another dish, piling some form of stir-fried beef -- a rare delicacy among the townsfolk, but more than abundant in the royal halls -- onto my plate.
She turned away, resting her elbow on the back of her chair, chin in hand, as she stared into great fields of imagination, dark dreams of the past. She was at the same time beautiful and morose, an infinite sadness of being weighing on her soft features. Her eyes bore a weight beyond her years -- sometimes it was hard to remember she was only fifteen, like myself.
"At least take some tea. I -- think it'll comfort you." With her gaze turned away from me, I was bold. I didn't stutter. I managed to pour her mug of tea without spilling any and slid it across the table to her fingertips.
Her soft, dark eyes flickered back towards me, and, flushing, I looked back down to my plate and continued to eat swiftly. I wasn't worthy of such an expression, just as I wasn't worthy of the tea aniki used to make to comfort me when I'd been younger, thinner, much more prone to tears of hunger.
Aniki. My chopsticks began to tremble, and the mouthful of food between them fell back to the plate before I could raise it to my lips. Not trusting my hands to wield the utensils properly, I picked up the meat with my fingers.
Her hand hit the table, then, with a sudden smack, and she snapped, "Suboshi!"
I looked up in surprise, feeling a familiar heat spread quickly to my cheeks and my ears. I clasped my hands together, admonished. "Y-yes, my lady?"
"Do you have to chew so loudly? It's irritating."
With a blink, I instantly pushed the pushed the plate of food away from me. "My apologies," I mumbled.
She sighed heavily in frustration, hand rising to brush a stray blonde strand from her face. "What are you even doing here? I thought you said this meal was for me."
"I -- I beg your pardon." I couldn't control the stammer as she stared so hard down at me. "You see, Nakago requested I join you. He said you haven't been eating, and --"
"Since when have you listened to Nakago?"
I smiled shakily in hopes that she might return it. "I wanted to keep you company. You looked like you could use some."
She turned away again, sullen. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine," I said, suddenly feeling bold once more. "I mean, you're out of your element, away from all you used to know. I bet -- I bet you're pretty lonely."
"What do you know?" Her words were quiet, betraying the sadness she tried so hard to suppress.
"I've been --" I hesitated, the words catching in my throat as thoughts of aniki -- smiling, playing his flute, holding me in times of darkness -- drifted, unbidden, into my mind. Perhaps she would hold me again, in his place. "I'm lonely too."
Finally, this seemed to catch her attention, as a thin wrinkle formed between her brows. "It hasn't been that long since your brother was killed. You'll still need time to heal."
"That's funny. It hasn't been that long, but it still feels like forever to me."
She looked away, sad eyes turning infinitely sadder, and I regretted letting the words spill from my mouth. She'd done her part to comfort me, selflessly caring enough to give her shoulder after I'd collapsed from the pain of losing aniki's life-essence less than a week ago. She couldn't replace his chi, but her warmth had almost been enough.
If only it had been more.
"I never knew him," she said after a while. "Amiboshi. He was one of the Seiryuu seishi, but we'd never been introduced."
"He was... a good person. A peaceful person. He took care of me." I forced a smile. It was like game, as we both struggled to avoid one another's gazes. I couldn't bring myself to look at her, not after the shame of falling to pieces on her, and then lashing out at her so rudely. She'd forgiven me, but it was a matter I was still unwilling to forget.
She made a soft sound in the back of her throat in affirmation. "The pain will never truly go away," she said softly. "But there will come a time when you'll have to learn to live for yourself."
"I wasn't meant to. I was never meant to live for myself. There was always aniki. And now, there's this. Everything." I swept my hand in a half-circle around the room. "Summoning Seiryuu, bringing justice to this land."
Nodding resolutely, she murmured in a distant tone, "Justice will be done. For everyone who's been wronged. Sometimes, you have to take justice into your own hands."
I stared down at my hands, hands that have spun ryuuseisui at alarming speeds, hands that have choked the life from others. Hands that could easily choke again, in the name of justice. And if Nakago wasn't going to take care of aniki's murderers, perhaps I would have to take a page from her book, and take justice into my own hands.
"You would have liked him, I think," I said softly, returning the conversation full circle. "It's a shame you never met him before Nakago sent him to Konan."
"'Amiboshi' wasn't his real name, was it?"
"It was Kotoku. Bu Kotoku."
"And yours?"
I frowned slightly and shook my head. "It's not important. I don't want to be known by that name anymore. I won't let it be a part of me."
"It's always a part of you. The same way Kotoku will always be a part of you."
I shook my head again, more firmly this time. "My name is Suboshi. That's all I need to be known as."
She was quiet again, brows knitting together in contemplation. Her lips parted, but it was a long while before she spoke again. "What were you called in your old life?"
I met her gaze, and the name tumbled from my lips of its own accord, as if she herself had willed it there. "Shunkaku," I whispered.
She smiled -- a smile I would kill a thousand times over for -- and reached for the pot of tea at the center of the table. After filling an empty mug, she quietly slid it across to me.
Somehow, I managed to will away the tremble in my hand as I raised the mug of hot tea to my lips. Perhaps, with my lady's help, I would finally start to heal, and learn to live for myself. For her.
But before I could find full closure, I would have to make them pay for aniki's death, starting close to home. One at a time. Soon, my ryuuseisui would taste blood yet again.
"Thank you, Lady Yui."
She nodded, the tightness in her brow finally easing for the first time all evening. "Thank you, Suboshi."
Is this what it's like, to hand one's life over to their lady? It was happiness. It was rage. It was a mounting desire I never wanted to end.
Their lives for aniki's life. And always my life for hers.