To her surprise, the small gathering of men behind the sour Ishida was a bunch of ordinaries.
Suzu had expected haughty soldiers, marching behind their leader as if he was a god, but to her amazement, they were nothing but nice blokes. Often during their journeying they would comment on the unpleasantness of their leader, tossing about remarks of astonishment based on his actions the other day in certain battles when he fought… and this had sparked an interesting addition to the mysterious Ishida Mitsunari.
It had been two weeks after their agreement on leaving the village together. Suzu mused on this a while longer as she watched the tea brew in front of her. She touched her shoulder lightly, reminiscing on the agreement she had made with the wall. She was curious to see what had become of the wound since then.
The slash however, during the first time that evening when she was travelling with the army was one filled with distasteful memories. She remembered almost nothing of that evening except for the continuous routine of passing out every now and again, waking up to remind herself that she was in no position to lose consciousness. The wound began to fester over time until a few hours later they had camped and the men – being nice enough compared to their leader's child-like temper – helped her tend to and re-bandage the deep cut.
Ever since then she'd made good friends with them, even memorizing the names of most of the soldiers which had in turn earned her the title of their 'nee-chan'. They had even picked out the standard size armor for her to fit into the Ishida forces.
Regardless of their affection however, Suzu had avoided any personal questions they directed at her for the sole reason of concealing the fact that she is the first daughter of the emperor.
Not that she remembered being kin of royalty though.
She was far too young, far too naïve to even register that the night she met a stranger in the palace garden would be the last time she was ever going to be in such a position. From then on all she had memories of was growing up in father's abode. He was the man that had put her in the care of strangers, teaching her to be an obedient woman, but it wasn't long until she had found out about what he really was planning to turn her into—'Oi, oi, how did you get those sorts of scars, nee-chan?'
Suzu jumped at the sudden question, looking up to find the group of soldiers surrounding her at the little cooking fire.
She was staring at them a little taken aback, intimidated at the intensity of their staring and directed her attention to the exposed impressions of scratches on her arms. She had rolled up the sleeves of her haori, not expecting any of the men to be up and about at this hour of the night, but she cursed at herself mentally before hiding her wrists beneath the curtaining robe.
'B-battle scars, right, we all have them,' she laughed, waving off the subject on returning her attention to the tea that at this point bubbled to its boiling point.
She got up quickly from her spot on the floor, struggling to maintain her balance due to the pins-and-needles that accumulated in her numbed legs. She had been seated badly in front of the brewing tea for over five minutes, simply dozing off into recollections of her past that she completely forgot about preparing the drink for her leader.
Somehow the tea had become a ritual of hers. She couldn't recall how, but every night since she had joined the Ishida army, she was responsible for preparing their general's tea. At first she had expected the man – bringing surface to the instances where his meticulous character blinded her – to shun her and the tea she made, but she had noticed a little crack in his defense with this…
He liked her tea.
Even though it was a shameless thing to brag about based upon the whereabouts of her tea-making talent, she felt proud of the fact that the tea was so good it even pleased the most painstaking of men in the whole of Japan.
And so she was balancing the tray in her hands, musing happily to herself as she ambled casually to the direction of her leader whom sat in complete isolation. This too was part of the routine, of course. He would be distanced from the rest of his men, as if breaking himself away from the world, retreating to his own little sub-conscious planet.
Suzu placed the tray down beside the man, neither of them saying a word. She was smiling on the inside at the odd thought that suddenly came to her then – at the realization of just how insane her life had been in the past few weeks. It was quite an achievement actually; the entire ordeal of trying to commit seppuku, being attacked instead by this man for no particular reason, escaping father's pleasure quarters, travelling with the Ishida and his men… no one would believe this because of the extent of how ridiculous this actually sounded.
She was walking back to the camp, sighing at her leader's terrible communication skills that continued with yet another evening of serving him tea. Throughout the two weeks of her stay so far the wall has remained the wall. There was no startling change in his personality, he was just a robot fixed on emotions such as distrust and malice.
Sighing a second time at the site of her messy workstation, Suzu advanced to cleaning up her tools.
Hotaru – a fellow colleague soldier of hers – was still awake and camping nearby her whereabouts. He chewed on a sprig of grass, pouting tiredly as Suzu advanced to join him in watching the stars. She had enjoyed the silence they shared, simply basking in one another's company in disbelief of their sad lives… not that she complained though.
This was far better than having her life ruled by a bunch of bastards.
'Nee-chan, those scars are really something else, aren't they,' he was staring at her exposed wrists – his eyebrows upturned in a subtle frown.
Feeling self-conscious suddenly by their constant prodding at wanting to know how she'd attained such scars on her arms, Suzu pulled down her sleeves quickly. She pouted at him, scowling childishly at his question and remained silent for a moment.
'Mind your own business, Hotaru…'
He chuckled, low and deep. 'Sorry for asking. It's just that we all have scars, you know – reminders of our struggles…,' he shrugged. 'I was just asking.'
Suzu remained silent for a while longer in thought of his question. She knew she couldn't say anything that would give away much information about her past – so personal data was completely out of the question. Instead she began to draw circles into the grass with the tip of her index finger, keeping it hovering over the ground now and again in deep thought.
'… These scars are a reminder that forcing a person to do something only makes them more defiant. If an individual really thinks brute physical effort can move the heaviest of rocks, they're only adding more weight and solidity to that stone.'
Ishida Mitsunari's ears perked at this statement.
Suspiciously pushy Hotaru's smirk widened at this new discovery.
A/U: Quick thanks to pantera-tease for sending in the first of reviews for the story! ^^ Kyaa, it excites me, thank you so much! Please send in your reviews, guys, I'd love to know if you're enjoying the fanfic. Comments on improvement are most welcome! :D