Evening Company
If it was Shizuru's hope that her new responsibility would sleep through until morning, she would be severely disappointed. As such, because Shizuru had been raised with the best of manners, she did not even consider it. Her only concern was that the young woman she had taken into her immediate care could be ill or dying, for Miss Natsuki had slept deeply – though fitfully – since morning.
Now, any other such person may not have worried too much, since the young woman displayed no obvious signs of worsening health, but it must be said that for all her cool, calm, collected appearance, Fujino Shizuru was indeed a compassionate person. And so suffering the affliction faced by all truly compassionate people, she nonetheless feared the worst, despite the physical evidence telling her to be rational and calm down.
Her men saw none of this, of course, for two distinctive reasons. The first being Shizuru embodied serenity on a daily basis (at least, so they saw), and the second – in this case, the more dominant of the two – they were focused on the mouth-watering smells of hot meals and the promise of a bed to sleep in. She left them to their own devices, knowing they would follow her instructions carefully if they did not want to be docked of their pay. It was simple enough, as she had put it: soldiers existed to defend and keep the peace, not disturb it.
Shizuru left her horse in the capable hands of the same stableboy who had tended him on the platoon's first visit. Her saddlebags she slung over her shoulder, while her arms became preoccupied with carrying the dark haired girl through the hotel's reception and up the stairs to the room provided for her. Upon entering, her crimson eyes scanned the room for any sign of hostility or disturbance; when she found none, she crossed the space between herself and the bed and deposited her "luggage" as delicately as possible. Setting aside her saddlebags, she quickly checked the girl for fever – and gave a sigh of relief. As far as she could tell, the girl was not ill.
However Shizuru knew very well she was a soldier, not a doctor. With another wary glance about the room, she left, closing the door behind her, key in hand. Though she would only be downstairs, the hotel was large enough that she could be only two rooms over and not know danger had befallen Miss Natsuki, let alone an entire floor. No one will lay a hand on her, not while I am around.
Natsuki woke just as night was firmly taking hold outside. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she gazed about tiredly. She lay in a small bed (that was a far cry from her large bed at home) in a small room. A bedside table held a tall, nondescript oil lamp, whose golden glow illuminated the whole room. She found windows above her head, and across the wall plain blue curtains were tied back. A little – well, she assumed little – set of table and chairs filled a corner on the other side of the room. A door was set into the far wall, closed. Another door – closed as well – sat opposite, and Natsuki assumed that was the way out.
Where the hell am I? She pushed herself up slowly, glancing around once more. The room was not her own – nor were the saddlebags dumped at the foot of her bed. Glaring at them suspiciously, she pulled herself together and commanded her brain to think. The answer came immediately. Her! screamed her inner voice. That red-eyed, brown-haired woman-soldier, Captain what's-her-name!
Almost everything became clear: that morning, she had encountered that mob of soldiers and with them the lady-captain while dead on her feet, and had eventually collapsed. She supposed the woman had brought her here to get help, though where here was she had no clue. Had she gone north, south, east or west? Peeking out the windows, she found nothing to answer her query. The sun had already set, and lanterns had been lit outside.
As the window revealed many establishments and people wandering up and down the street, Natsuki realized she was in a proper town. The thought was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Having grown up on an estate, she rarely visited the outside world, instead learning of it through her tutor, the staff – when they were in a good mood – and occasionally her parents. The few times her parents had dragged her away from their home, she had been forced to attend luncheons or dinners – the same boring things that her parents would host at home. But the first time she had visited the nearest town, Natsuki had been overcome with a firm mix of awe and fear. So much activity filled every street (there were so many people!) and so much noise. She couldn't tear her attention away.
Those same feelings stirred again, although this time, she had cause to be worried about just which town this happened to be. If it lay too close to her home, there was a terrible chance word had already been sent out about her disappearance, and people would be watching for her description. If she were caught, Natsuki knew she would be dragged home and punished – surely the pillow trick had alerted them she had run away, and not been kidnapped – and possibly, her parents would send her to her fate sooner than later. No way in hell.
Just as she was beginning to assess her options – another escape seemed likely, though she had more reservations than the last time – she heard voices, muffled by the walls, pause outside the opposite door. She heard the rattle of a lock, and so pushed herself back into the bed, resting against the headboard, and also in reach of the oil lamp. Natsuki had barely readied herself when the door swung open.
In stepped the lady-captain, followed by a middle-aged man in a white coat with glasses. In one hand was a rather-large travel bag. The lady-captain's eyes darted to Natsuki, and a relieved expression overtook her features. She smiled warmly at Natsuki, who couldn't help but smile back politely. The lady-captain turned to the man behind her. "Ara, it seems we have less cause to be concerned, Doctor."
Doctor? Her eyes narrowed as she took another look at the man. His hair was as dark as his eyes, and his nose happened to be slightly bulbous. His posture didn't hold a candle to the woman next to him, but his cool demeanour seeped into the room like a bad smell. And, like she had earlier observed but ignored, he wore an immaculately clean white button down coat that was – she now saw – beginning to fade, and the black leather travel-size bag remained, though had become slightly more ominous. Come near me and you'll eat this oil lamp, old man.
Shizuru was barely managing to suppress her smile as she bade the disgruntled doctor farewell. The moment the door was closed she allowed the smile to break across her face. That poor man. Giggling quietly, she turned back to face the equally disgruntled patient. "I don't believe you've acquired a lifelong friend this night, Miss Natsuki."
The young woman huffed, shooting a glare her way as she nursed a glass of water that easily could have been mistaken as fine wine, for all the elegance she possessed. Knees tucked up against her stomach, the petulant little creature sulked in silence; a reply seemed most unlikely. Shizuru's smile grew.
Ara … time to get some answers, I think.
With an innocent smile, Shizuru drifted towards Natsuki, deftly grabbing a chair and setting it down lightly by the bed. Taking her seat, she smiled wider at the suspicious look shot her way. Clearing her throat, she said, "As lovely as Miss Natsuki is simply to stare at, I do believe conversation would be enjoyable."
The dark haired girl's cheeks pinked at her tease, but her talent for obstinacy was something worth acknowledging. Her chin merely jutted in the other direction – otherwise she did not move, nor speak.
Shizuru continued on. "Perhaps Miss Natsuki will be comforted in the knowledge that she was brought here only with the concern for her health and safety."
Another suspicious look. "Only?"
"Why, of course. Unless Miss Natsuki thinks me some kind of … vagabond?" She gave a slight pout, furrowed her brow and widened her eyes. Almost immediately, the girl's cheeks flushed a little more, and she returned to staring at her glass of water. Close now. "Ara … Miss Natsuki must also think she is a prisoner here, not a guest, though I suppose-"
"How the hell would I know?" exploded the girl. She snapped her body round, fully facing Shizuru. She stabbed out a finger accusingly, her green eyes ablaze. "You and those idiots show up out of nowhere, and then I'm here, in a bed, not knowing where I am! I don't even know who you are!"
Shizuru blinked, eyeing the dark haired girl with no little amount of surprise. Offended mask chased off, she had barely avoided a visible flinch when the pouty little creature suddenly lashed out with such fire. Watching as the now silent girl glared at her passionately, chest rising and falling deliberately slow, muscles coiled and ready for anything, something in Miss Natsuki's words clicked over in her mind. Really? "I did not introduce myself?"
"No," she growled.
There were some moments in life, no matter what your status, that revealing embarrassment is more productive in social interactions than pretending otherwise. Knowing when to present either front could mean the difference between developing trust or encouraging disrespect. In Shizuru's situation, had the same conversation taken place with another person, she may have chosen the latter. However, specifically because it was not another person, she opted for the former.
Allowing a genuinely embarrassed smile, she inclined her head and said: "Pardon me, Miss. My name is Shizuru, Fujino Shizuru, and I am a captain of the Fuukan Army."
If the desire was to appease the fiery girl, then it was not achieved. Natsuki offered a 'hmph' and crossed her arms. Settling herself into a seated position facing Shizuru, she maintained her glare. "So where are we?"
"A little town my men and I stopped in several weeks ago, about a day's ride north of where we met."
Natsuki seemed to mull that over, and her glare downgraded into a wary stare; she frowned. It seemed to Shizuru that either she hadn't noticed the poor state of her clothes, or that her sense of priority had reduced vanity (and modesty, to a small extent) below locality. Ara, her clothes are not too bad… Indeed, stealing a brief peek – which was already more than manners allowed – Shizuru once again noted the tears of varying sizes riddling the girl's shirt, and with no little amount of luck nothing inherently private could be seen. As for the girl's pants, Shizuru had earlier noticed they were in a worse state, though right now the bed's patterned cotton blanket concealed her lower half. Yet still, she was in a state of dishevelment that no young lady should be. She cannot be left to walk around in such a state; a few coins and a word to the innkeeper will remedy this.
"Hey," came Natsuki's voice, startling Shizuru. She suddenly found herself under the confused scrutiny of less guarded emerald eyes. "You alright?"
Smiling, uncrossing and recrossing her long legs, Shizuru prepared to obtain her answers. With such a speedily changing opponent, these interrogations had to be handled in the proper manner: in short, less interrogation, more guided conversation. "I am, yes. I was merely caught up in my musings, if you'll pardon me." First step: once guard is down, give vague answers; subject will usually become curious.
Another frown, this time slightly disapproving, and a third suspicious glare, somewhat weaker than the last accompanied her reply. "What kind of musings?"
Subject hooked. "I was considering what may have happened to Miss Natsuki, to leave her in such a state…" She gestured to said tattered clothing with a lazy roll of her hand, continuing only once the girl had looked down at herself and blushed, "If Miss Natsuki has faced some sort of peril, it will be my absolute duty to hunt them down." Second step: nudge subject into a corner, discreetly – subject should go on the defensive.
Natsuki's eyes widened and she began to splutter as she pulled the blanket more firmly over her form, her cheeks still pink. It took a minute before the unintelligible sounds elevated into a mad dash of words strung into coherent form. "NO, nothing like that. There's no danger or anything, just – well, it's my business why I'm like this, isn't it, not yours-"
"Kanin na, kanin na," interrupted Shizuru, knowing the dark haired girl was about to up her guard again. "Be at ease Miss Natsuki, I didn't intend to offend. Yet, in counter, it would be my business, if you'd been attacked by lawless folk, or something equally as dangerous." She offered another smile, small and soothing. "I am glad to hear, however, that this is not the case."
Still blushing, Natsuki opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, there was a knock at the door.
Shizuru had to suppress a sigh when the girl clamped her mouth shut and shot a wary glance at the door. The shield is raised. She could only offer a polite smile as she rose from her chair and glided to the door. On the other side stood one of the waitresses, a weary-looking girl with dark hair in need of a wash, holding a large silver platter (the only silver piece of its kind, doled out for the most esteemed guests, which included soldiers of merited rank), coupled with a dome-like dish of the purposes of a) presenting a slight bit of sophistication that went silently demanded by higher-class patrons, and b) preserving the heat of the food inside.
As she ushered the waitress inside the modest little room, Shizuru turned back to face her newly acquired companion, who seemed to be eyeing the dish with a familiar kid of lust, and said: "Ara, our meals have arrived. I hope you'll be kind enough to dine with me this evening, Miss Natsuki?"
Dinner went without conversation. For the most part Natsuki was content to keep her eyes on her food – which happened to be of no lesser standard than she was familiar with, and in actual fact, also happened to be her favourite evening dish. She tried very hard to retain her manners, and not allow her enjoyment to overtly show, but it was a difficult battle (why wouldn't it be, when the potatoes were soft, the meat tender, and the gravy simply mouth-watering!) and unknowingly lost. However despite such a distraction, she couldn't keep herself from peeking at her companion every once in a while.
That woman smiles too much. Indeed, to Natsuki, who was used to watching the populace of the estate frown, scowl and clench their teeth in concentration, smiles were much more rare – though not, it must be noted, a largely uncommon practice. So unlike the behaviour she was familiar with, this woman (tanned skin-red eyes-brown hair-straight back) smiled constantly. There seemed no natural telling how the woman felt by looking at her mouth. Maybe her mouth is set like that?
Yet Captain Fujino's facial expressions were the least of her worries. Natsuki needed to find a way to separate herself from the captain come morning. She'd already considered another evening run, but that held several problems, the worst of which was the possibility of capture by – as the woman had put it – a group of vagabonds, against which she had no weapon of defence. Her sense of direction, too, had been chewed into an unrecognisable form; running off in the night might put enough distance between her and the soldiers, but it would count for nothing if she ran right back towards home – then everything would be shot to hell and her efforts wasted. What I need to do is wait til morning, sunrise if possible, then go one way while the soldiers go another. That would be the plan, sketchy as it was, because she needed to remove herself swiftly if she wanted the captain to forget about her existence: consequently of the present, signs of attachment were showing.
Natsuki was almost certain that the woman had been trying to wheedle out information on her current predicament. The more she thought about their earlier conversation, the more she began to think the lady-captain had developed enough curiosity to entangle herself in Natsuki's life. And that did not bode well if she was to avoid capture – it nearly guaranteed her return home.
"Did you find the meal satisfactory, Miss Natsuki?"
She looked up. Captain Fujino was watching her, relaxing back into her chair, glass of wine in hand. Those red eyes were strange in the low lighting: liquid … glowing. She couldn't hold that odd gaze for long; she broke away, leaning back into her own chair, her own glass of wine in hand. It was a light brew of wine, mildly sweet, not unlike what her parents permitted her to drink from time to time. Swirling it in her glass, she decided she rather liked it. "It was very nice, thank you."
"Excellent. For a moment I was uncertain." Natsuki could hear the smile in her voice. "Miss Natsuki, if I may, I'd appreciate if you would inform me of your destination. I find I have become uncomfortably concerned."
Natsuki had this answer planned out. The plan itself had terrible risk of a trap, yet it was the best she could come up with – and in truth, she was never much for scheming, only blunt recklessness. Needing to sell the lie, she met Shizuru's gaze steadily, and replied: "I'm on a winding path, in fact. I'll be heading north a while, then east. It'll be long, but I'm in no great hurry, just … eager to arrive, I suppose." She prayed it had all spilled out in her regular low tones (on occasion, her voice betrayed her lies at home, resulting in a varied list of punishments). The correct fact: she would be setting off south-east. She only hoped her lie would stick.
The woman blinked; her customary smile widened. "Ara, north? Perfect! We shall accompany you as far as we can." No, damn it.
"You really don't have to," said Natsuki. Hope seemed to enjoy disappointing her lately. "I'll be fine."
"There is no absolute knowledge, Miss Natsuki. And truthfully, do you not believe it a wiser choice to travel as one for as long as possible?"
"Um…" Woman has a point. What am I supposed to say to that?
"It is guaranteed that my platoon can provide food, protection, and a good fire of an evening under the stars." Those eyes were burning a deep, steady flame that refused to yield. That pretty face – that mouth, usually smiling, now parted and slightly puckered in concern – was so utterly anxious. Over her, no less.
If Natsuki had not been panicking, she may have noticed how heartened she was by this honest care. Yet as that was not the case, still she struggled. "Look, thanks and all, but I'm more of a solitary sort, you know? I don't enjoy packs, though I understand the allure…" She had to wince at her increasingly poor attempts at damage control.
The smile that appeared did not bring Natsuki comfort. "Well, I hope Miss Natsuki will at least consider it … I hope you'll reconsider, and join us in the morning."
She tried hard to smile in her best maybe-maybe not manner, but it weighed heavily and felt more like a grimace. Sorry lady, but that will definitely not be happening.