A/N: For some reasons or another, episode 11 or Seirei No Moribito just really captured my attention. I think it was the fact that Balsa sat there waiting, and the way that Balsa and Tanda looked at each at the end. So cute and shippy! Anyway, this is my alternate ending to Flower Wine. Many thanks to Your Tomodachi for being an awesome beta!
The others were beginning to worry. Balsa could see it in their quiet exchanges, their discreet glances. As for herself, well, she had been worried from the very beginning, but now she was even more worried. It had been a whole day now since Saya had come back to her body, without Tanda. The poor girl was beside herself, thinking that somehow she might have accidentally trapped the healer in the spirit world. What's more, from what Chagum told her at least, Saya was afraid that Balsa was angry with her for "taking Tanda-san away", as the prince quoted. It was clear that Chagum wanted the bodyguard to assure Saya that such wasn't the case, but Balsa refused to leave Tanda's side. "I said I'd be here, and I will," was her constant mantra. And since Saya couldn't bear to look at either of the motionless adult figures, the issue remained unresolved.
As did many other things, as a matter of fact. As the hours wore on, Balsa's face grew stonier and stonier. Eventually, Chagum was the only one who dared approach the spear wielder. "B-balsa…?" He ventured, resisting the urge to take a step back at the woman's fierce stare. When Balsa saw that it was just Chagum, she sighed and her expression softened. "As I've told everyone else who's come in here, Chagum. I'm not hungry, nor am I sleepy." She said, more than a little exasperated.
"But it's been a day and half already!" Chagum pleaded, blue eyes wide. A strained smile flickered on Balsa's face, and she shook her head. "I'm fine. You shouldn't have to worry about your bodyguard." She said, turning back to keep watch over Tanda.
Balsa might have thought that to be the end of the conversation, but Chagum had different ideas. "I thought you might say that." He said wryly, kneeling beside her and placing a tray of steaming buns and a jug of water in front of her. "Here. I'll help you keep watch so you can eat." He said, training his eyes firmly on the healer's body. Balsa's first instinct was to shake her head and chase him back out to do something more productive, but a loud rumble from her stomach betrayed her. Chagum's lips twitched as he fought back a giggle, and Balsa sighed good-naturedly. "If you insist." She sighed, glancing sidelong at his dancing smile. It didn't take long at all before the food disappeared, and with it some of the hardness to Balsa's face.
"Thank you, Chagum." She said, after a few moments of shared silence. The boy grinned and scooted closer, resting his head against her side. Balsa rolled her eyes but smiled and slung her arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry. Tanda-san's going to come back soon." Chagum said with the naiveté only a child could truly believe. Balsa made a noncommittal sound and ran her fingers gently through his short black hair. She seemed serene on the outside, but internally she was busy making threats at her healer friend if he didn't wake up soon. Just when she was sure that Chagum fallen asleep, the boy asked sleepily, "Balsa? How old were you when you saved your first life?"
Balsa made a surprised noise, and flicked her gaze down to the young boy for a brief second. "Well… it was a year or so after I made my vow. So about 17, I would say." She replied. "Why do you ask?" Chagum just nodded, but after a few moments ventured forth another question. "And how old are you now?" Balsa lifted her eyebrow and stared at him for a moment before replying flatly, "It's not polite to ask a woman her age." Chagum stiffened and began stammering out an apology. Balsa let him flounder for a moment before relenting with an amused snort, pressing him to her briefly. "It doesn't bother me, but you'd do well to keep that in mind for the future. I'm nearly 30, by the way." Reassured and slightly sheepish, Chagum nodded in acknowledgment.
"Tanda-san's been healing you all this time, then." He realized with a sort of wonder. Balsa chuckled and nodded. "Mm. Since longer, actually. His stitches are probably close to the only thing that's keeping me in one piece."
"Oh." The prince nodded, processing the piece of information away. It wasn't long, however, before another question popped out of his mouth.
"Balsa?"
"Yes, Chagum?"
"Why does Tanda live by himself in the woods? That make it harder for people to find him." like when we were first attacked. He doesn't add the last part, but Balsa knows. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then spoke, "Well for starters he's been living there for a long time. It was Madam Torogai's hut when she took him on as an apprentice, so it feels like home. It is home, and for more than just Tanda. When Madam Torogai passes by she always stops in, just like she owns the place – which I guess she does." Balsa laughed, her head tipped back just so. "Toya and Saya have been up there so often that they can run that rock by starlight, though they still call the city their home. And… I suppose it's home for me as well. I stayed there with Jiguro for a few years, after all."
Chagum nodded, but apparently wasn't satisfied. "But Tanda's customers are all in the city. Wouldn't it be easier for him to buy a place in town like Toya and Saya?" Balsa shrugged in response.
"Well I can't really speak for Tanda, but I think he likes it up there. Plus it's easier for him to grow and collect things while he's there. He usually goes to town a few times each week to take care of herb deliveries and do some doctoring. And it's not like he keeps his location a secret." Balsa explained. "Well, that's kind of a lie. If someone needs him in town they usually go find Toya, and Toya runs to get Tanda. Saya's run a few messages up as well." She admitted.
"That must be why Toya's so fast, then." Chagum mused, earning a chuckle from the warrior.
"Probably so."
"But that's still a lot of work. Tanda would make a lot more money if he stayed in town." Chagum pressed, and Balsa sighed in exasperation.
"Make your case to Tanda, not me." She groused. "Besides, do you really think Tanda cares about how much money he's making?" She didn't know why she was even continuing this conversation. It was rather pointless, seeing as the only person who could do anything about Tanda's living quarters was Tanda, and he wasn't exactly up for conversation at the moment. The thought sobered Balsa up again, and she looked down at her lap, quiet. That is, until a certain child spoke again.
"What does he care about most, then? Do you know?"
At that, Balsa looked away, slightly uncomfortable with the answer to that question. It wasn't a matter of knowing or not knowing, no, between the two of them it never was. It was just…
"That is a question that Tanda is far better equipped to answer." Balsa said finally, effectively dodging the question. "What's with the insistence that he move anyway? I like the fact that Tanda lives in the hut. I always know where to find him, and anyone else who might be there is an old friend too. And we don't have to worry about explaining things to curious little boys." She teased, giving him a long-suffering look.
Chagum smiled winningly back at her and nestled closer. "You sure know a lot about him, though." He commented casually. "Yeah? I should. We've known each other for a long time." Balsa replied, just as casually. From where she sat, she couldn't see the small, knowing, smile on the Prince's face, which was probably a good thing for Chagum's sake. Thankfully, the boy seemed out of questions for the time being, and Balsa's mind began to turn to times long past. Together, they sat and watched the healer's body for any indication that his soul had found its way home. But while one was doing their best to fight off sleep, the other was very much awake as she suddenly realized just how much her life was entwined with a certain herbologist.
~s~
Chagum opened his eyes with a start, realizing that he must have dozed off. He glanced up at Balsa and was surprised to see that while her eyes remained trained on Tanda, her gaze was unfocused. What's more, her face was soft and her smile warm. The image triggered a memory in Chagum, and he couldn't stop a giggle from escaping his lips. The noise broke into Balsa's thoughts, and immediately her expression returned to its normal stoic, hardened, state. "What?" She asked, a little annoyed at being jostled from the warm stream of reminiscence she had been swimming in.
"Your face just then." The prince grinned. "It reminded me of Tanda's the first night I met you. Except this time it's you who's waiting." He finished with a yawn, and Balsa gently shooed him away to the room that was being offered to them for the time being. But his words didn't leave. They echoed through her mind even as she steeled herself for night two of waiting for her dear friend.
This time it's you who's waiting…
Judging by the height of the candles, it was just past midnight when Balsa spoke into the (almost) empty room. It had been too quiet, too peaceful, and she had been teetering on the edge of sleep. "Tanda… remember this?" Balsa whispered, baring her shoulder for a moment to trace a thin line that was a few shades lighter than the skin around it. "I was such a baby when you stitched this up. I saw your shaking hands and was afraid you'd make it worse. Knowing me, I probably made some snide comment about your lack of experience. And the painkiller wasn't strong enough, so I felt it all." She laughed a little, lost in the memory of the first of many scars that would come to line her body – nice and neat thanks to Tanda's care. "But when you finally gathered enough resolve to poke me for the first time, your hands were deft and sure. It still hurt, though." She said in mock anger.
"We must have been a sight… both of us flinching away from each other at every movement and yelling at each other to hurry up or stay still." She snorted in amusement, her finger absently tracing lines through the dust on the ground beside her. "Jiguro could scarcely hold me down he was laughing so hard." She yawned and looked down at the floorboards. She stared for a long moment before erasing with a quick sweep of her sleeve what she'd subconsciously written. She didn't feel much like talking anymore.
This time it's you who's waiting….
Morning found the bodyguard still sitting on floor, her legs the only thing that had fallen sleep (but not the only thing that wanted to). Unfortunately, Tanda had yet to move either. Balsa rubbed her aching eyes and groaned. "You've been gone for three days Tanda. Three days! We've still got people after us, remember? Chagum needs you to take care of him in case I have to leave a false trail again." And I need you too. She added silently, and, perhaps, just a little pleadingly.
"Nee-san? Have you been here all night?" Toya's incredulous voice broke into Balsa's daze, and her slowly closing eyelids flew open. She turned bleary eyes to the errand runner and shrugged. "You'd have done it for Saya." She said with a little more bite than necessary. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have let me." He retorted, his hands on his hips. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to fire back but caught herself in time and grunted instead, too tired to make an effort to smooth over ruffled feathers. Then Chagum poked his head into the room with hopeful eyes. He took in the two sitting figures and sighed, worry creasing his brow. "Good morning, Balsa." He greeted dejectedly. Then, a flicker of movement caught the attention of all three people and Balsa gasped, leaping to her feet. Or at least she tried to. Her calves were twitching and tingling like nothing else, and she stumbled to the ground with gritted teeth, her arm reaching out for Tanda even as she fell. Meanwhile, Tanda's body continued its tilting trajectory, gradually moving faster and faster.
"Balsa!"
"Tanda!"
The two boys raced towards the adults. Toya was faster, and just managed to catch Tanda's shoulders before the healer's head smacked against the wooden floor. Chagum knelt by Balsa, lending his shoulder for support as she furiously worked the blood back into her legs. "Balsa, you need a break." Chagum said firmly. "Yeah, Nee-san. Take a nap." Toya piped up as he gently lowered Tanda's weakened body to the floor. Balsa's eyes were bloodshot and a headache had been pounding at the back of her head for some time now, but still she shook her head stubbornly.
"Please, Balsa. Eat and then get some sleep." A third voice chimed in, albeit much more timid sounding. Saya padded in with her head down, dragging a sleeping mat and blanket behind her. "The three of us can take turns watching Tanda-san. You trust us, right? And you can sleep right here if you want." She pleaded, avoiding the spear wielder's gaze. Chagum's stare bore into Balsa, and she remembered his words from the other day. "I don't blame you, Saya." She said, wincing inwardly at how hollow and flat her words sounded, even to her own ears. It was irrational and just plain unfair to blame the little girl, and Balsa knew that. So why couldn't she dispel the sense of resentment she harbored? She could feel the disappointment radiating from all three children and gave a frustrated huff. What would Tanda do? She asked herself, wishing – not for the first time and certainly not the last – that her diplomacy skills included more than just waving a pointy stick around.
"You know what?" She said finally. "I do trust you three. Thank you for bringing the blankets in here, Saya. Wake me up in an hour, or if there's any change in Tanda's condition." She rose on still-wobbly legs and made her way to the sleeping mat. It was a rough way of handling things, yes, but it seemed to work, at least a little. Sweet Saya actually smiled at her as she plopped down next to Chagum, with Toya the other side. Despite Balsa's sleep-deprived body, she wasn't the least bit drowsy as she settled down for her nap. She shut her eyes and regulated her breathing, if only to convince the children that she was asleep.
If Balsa was being honest with herself, her stubborn vigil was more for her benefit than Tanda's. It made her feel like she was doing something. The primary reason that Tanda's 'absence' was causing her so much stress was that she had to trust his training and ingenuity. And it wasn't the trust part that she had a problem with – far from it – but rather the fact that trusting him to save his own skin was the only thing that she could do. No matter how fast she could run or how hard she could fight, none of that could reel her friend back home. Nothing in her power could help him. And after being able to do nothing to stop her mother, her father, Jiguro's spirit, and later Jiguro's old-but-not-that-old body from fading into nothingness, it was beyond agonizing to have to sit by and watch one more of her loved ones straddle the border between life and death.
However restless her brain was, though, physical exhaustion won out and Balsa eventually slipped into a fitful slumber. Freed from the chains of conscious thought and rationality, Balsa's fears and emotions took full advantage of her weakened mental state.
Tanda's face loomed up in front of her. He sneered and said smugly, "This time it's you who's waiting." The look of malice was so foreign on his face that Balsa could do nothing but gape at him. "How long should I make you wait? Two years sounds good. That's standard, apparently." He mocked. Balsa couldn't move, couldn't run from this unfamiliar Tanda. And with every beat of her heart, the faces multiplied, their overlapping voices echoing eerily as Balsa found herself surrounded. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as the floating faces closed in on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and suddenly the chanting stopped.
Balsa was standing in front of Tanda's hut, but for some reason it seemed… different. Uneasy, the warrior slid the canvas sheath from her spearhead and stepped cautiously inside. She made a circuit of the house, warning bells ringing louder and louder inside her head as she failed to find any sort of evidence that the building was inhabited. Everything had a thick layer of dust on it, and she found only a few brittle leaves where normally the shelves would be well stocked with the common and most-requested herbs. "Tanda. Where are you? Tanda!" Balsa shouted, running out of the abandoned home and almost knocking Toya down. He looked at her with a somber expression and shook his head slowly. "You must have hit your head too, Balsa. The town healer might have something for that; you should ask her."
Hit my head too? And wait – did he just say ask her? The confusion must have shown on Balsa's face, because Toya pointed a long and seemingly accusing finger at her thigh. Balsa looked down to see her flesh torn open, blood dripping down onto the grass. Strangely enough, she felt no pain. "Her clinic is in town." Toya said, giving Balsa a nudge towards the now overgrown path. The warrior's feet began moving on their own accord, while she tried to comprehend what had just happened. "Tanda… where's Tanda?" She wondered aloud. Out of nowhere Toya popped up beside her again, his gaze accusatory. Balsa ran faster, only to shy away as Madam Torogai stepped from the woods with a stern, haggard expression. She, too, shook her head and pointed straight at Balsa.
"Tanda, where's Tanda?" Hysteria was turning Balsa's shouts into unearthly shrieks, and her leg finally began to hurt. A lot.
"Don't you know?" Now Chagum and Saya stood in front of her, looking at her condescendingly. "Tanda got tired of patching you up. He left first, so he wouldn't have to watch you leave again." Balsa shook her head, stumbling to a stop. "Well where did he go?" She demanded, doubling over in pain. "I need Tanda." She staggered forward a few more steps, but oddly enough didn't seem to actually move anywhere. "Eh, don't worry. Our new healer is just as good, maybe better." Their voices, all of them, echoed and overlapped with grating contrast that scraped harshly in Balsa' ear. "No, I don't care about the leg! Where's Tanda? Where did he go?" She repeated, just as said leg finally gave out and she fell to the floor. Something caught her attention, and she turned her head to see a foreboding gravestone rise up out of the ground. "No. Nononono." She couldn't tear her eyes away, however, and she read aloud the name carved into the stone. "Ta-n-da." Then Balsa fell apart. Literally. Every stitch that had ever been made on her skin suddenly reappeared and tore open, exposing corded muscle and bone like some grotesque costume even as her innards spilled onto the ground.
"TANDA!" Balsa gasped, sitting up with wide eyes and clammy palms. It took a long, terrifying moment for her to realize that all her body parts were still intact and where they should be, and that seeing as the children were sitting where she'd left them, Tanda must not be dead. What Balsa didn't know was that her face was ghostly pale, and that her hands were shaking as she wordlessly stood up and reclaimed her place beside the healer's body. One look at her haunted eyes, along with her haggard appearance, was enough to convince the children to scurry away and leave her alone for the time being.
"Tanda…" Balsa's voice was gravelly, and she reached forward to brush her fingers against the curve of his cheek. It was still warm, and she sat back with a quiet sigh of relief. There was hope yet.
"I'm sorry Tanda." She whispered. "I haven't been very fair to you… and I never thought waiting for someone could hurt this much." She continued numbly. "Please come back. I need you." She finished in a voice so pitiful-sounding that at first she didn't recognize it as her own.
~s~
It was the early evening of the fourth day – the fourth – when Chagum carried in a plate of rice cakes. The others had peered in to check on the non-functioning pair from time to time, but again, Chagum was the only one who dared enter. He didn't say anything, he just sat down next to Balsa and stared at Tanda, distractedly waving away a hovering white moth.
Then Chagum stiffened suddenly, his head tilted backwards at a rough angle and sweat beading on his forehead. "Chagum! Chagum, what's wrong?" Balsa asked urgently, jolted out of her stupor. "T-Tanda…" He stammered. Then it was all over as suddenly as it had started. The boy's pupils returned to their normal sizes, and he gestured at the flower wine in the corner of the room. "The wine! We have to make Tanda drink it. It's what made Saya's soul leave in the first place." He exclaimed. He hadn't even finished the last sentence when Balsa dashed to her feet, swiping the dish and very nearly spilling its precious contents onto the floor. She propped the healer's body upright with her knee, then tipped the wine into his mouth. She roughly tilted his head back to make him swallow, her heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest. For a tense moment nothing happened.
Then Tanda groaned and shifted his body. Balsa held her breath as his eyes blinked open and he turned his head towards Chagum. His gaze was worriedly unfocused. But then the herbologist looked back at Balsa, who had an arm around his shoulder, a hand on his chest, and a very serious expression on her face. Recognition bloomed in his eyes and Balsa relaxed – but just a little; he wasn't quite out of the woods yet. Then:
"You didn't have to be quite so rough with me, now did you?" Tanda teased, smiling weakly. Chagum exhaled in utter relief before dashing out to tell the others. Balsa's tense expression softened as a million thoughts shot through her head, and it took her a couple tries before she could formulate a response.
"You deserved it; dawdling so long over there." Balsa's voice broke at the last few words and completely ruined the scolding effect, but they were muffled by Tanda's shoulder anyway as she wrapped him in a tight embrace. The healer grunted at the unexpected movement but brought his arms – slowly, like they weighed twenty pounds each– around her shaking form. His famished body couldn't quite hold itself up anymore, and so he slowly leaned back down onto the tatami mat. Balsa went down with him, face turned away to hide the tears that she could finally spend her energy on, now that Tanda was safe and sound. But she can't hide the slight trembling and the relief, not from the one who knows her best. He is crying too, relief and fear boiling away with each tear. Neither one says anything, not yet. There are no words that could possibly communicate what they are feeling. The important thing is that Tanda is back, Balsa is here, and that they are both safe.
Without pulling away, Tanda murmured, "Balsa…you look terrible." Only, the two were close enough that their smiling lips grazed past each other as he spoke. Too surprised and too tired to jerk away, Balsa's ears grew hot and her lips buzzed distractingly. It took a few seconds for her brain to comprehend the meaning of Tanda's words (and not just the way his mouth moved), but when she did she huffed and glared at him in indignation, leaning away from him and socking him in the arm. And just like that the tension of fear and adrenaline and who-knows-what-else (actually they both knew what else) disappeared like water down the drain. Tanda winced at the punch, but chuckled as he dragged her back, hugging her tight against his body and trying not to dwell on how surprisingly soft she felt. Balsa, on the other hand, was trying to determine whether Tanda could hear her heartbeat, loud as it was, or if it was just the blood pounding in her ears. Lying flush against him as she was, the warrior couldn't help but inhale the comforting scent of herbs and earth that Tanda carried with him.
"I missed you." Balsa said into his chest, which conveniently muffled the slight waver in her voice. "I missed you too." Tanda responded tenderly and sincerely, pressing his forehead against hers. The intensity of his tone seemed to speak of a timespan of much longer than four days. It was better suited to a time of, say, two years. Balsa's expression turned guilty, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize, because she wasn't sorry for all the adventures she'd had in that time. Instead, she brought her palm up to the curve of his cheek and said, "I think I understand much better now, how waiting for someone feels." Then, because she had never really been one to play to social decorum, Balsa tilted her head and planted a firm kiss on Tanda's lips. This time it was he who was too surprised to move, but it wasn't long before his paralysis faded and he responded in kind.
She was bold, with a fiery-hot passion that revealed itself in the way her cheeks flushed and her tongue danced. He was steady, with a deep-anchored love that revealed itself in the way his gentle hands cradled her face. This was them, this had always been them, and though both were traveling through uncharted waters, the familiar rhythm of give-and-take smoothed over any lingering self-consciousness. That is, until a collective gasp of shock broke the (almost) silence.
Faces crimson, Balsa and Tanda whipped their gazes to the doorway, frozen in their compromising position. Chagum, Saya, and Toya were all clearly hiding giggles, while Tanda's uncle merely wore a look of amusement. "I see the lady has given you a warm welcome back, nephew." He said conversationally, as if Tanda's hair wasn't sticking up in odd places and Balsa's tunic not rumpled. The spear-wielder rolled off of Tanda and hit the floor with a thud. At that, the children could no longer hold it in, and the sounds of their mirth followed them down the hall as Tanda's uncle quickly ushered them away, giving the flustered pair a quick wink before shutting the door.
Silence reigned once more – true silence this time. No longer caught up in the moment, Balsa was drowning in embarrassment. She was also remembering just how exhausted she really was. Remind me never to go this long without sleep again… She told herself. Turns you into a silly, needy, woman. Balsa flitted her gaze at Tanda in what would have been a subtle glance, except for the fact that he apparently had the same idea. Brown eyes met brown eyes, and Balsa's cheeks turned pink again as she smiled shyly. Tanda's face reddened as well, and he looked down at the tatami mat, equally bashful. Their wavering, indirect not-staring contest was broken by a huge yawn on Balsa's part.
"Let's deal with this tomorrow." Balsa grumbled as soon as she could find her voice again. Despite her disgruntled tone, she rolled over so that she was nestled against the healer's side and shut her eyes resolutely. She heard Tanda's amused snort – interrupted by a yawn of his own – and felt his arm wrap around her shoulder. A smile touched her face and she snuggled a little closer. The steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep, and this time, Balsa knew, her dreams would be sweet.
A/N: Let me know how you liked (or didn't like) it!