XVI. bloody knuckles
"What the hell does that bastard think he's doing!" Yata slammed a fist against the wall, ignoring the spike of pain that shot through his knuckles and the small trickle of blood that blossomed along the edge of the newly made bruise.
"Calm down, Yata-chan," Kusanagi said quietly, tugging a bit at the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. He sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "At least you didn't hit the radio, I guess."
They were sitting in a small dingy room that currently acted as the communications room for what remained of the United Colors Army. There wasn't much equipment here – a couple old radios, a telegraph, and when he'd first set foot inside Yata could almost hear Saruhiko's dry voice wondering where the butter churn was – but it was all they had. After the takeover of Shizume the Blue Captain had rounded up the remainder of the forces gathered at the emergency outpost and ordered everyone to the nearest satellite base, a day's march to the west. He'd made it clear that Homra was free to follow or leave as they wished and Kusanagi had been the one to make the final decision that Homra would be accompanying the Blue Division – for now, at least.
They'd discussed it a bit beforehand of course, Kusanagi and Yata and the remainder of their people. All of Homra had been lucky enough to make it out of camp alive, which had helped a little to ease Yata's mind still troubled by Saruhiko's departure. They'd all been pleased to see that he'd rescued Anna too and despite his exhaustion at the time that had been the one thing Yata was still able to feel proud of.
His own opinion had been that Homra should make their own plan and retake the base but Kusanagi only shook his head when Yata had finally said it out loud. There wasn't much left of their forces and certainly not enough to take down the kind of numbers the Greens had currently stationed at Shizume. Besides that, Kusanagi had pointed out, if they all went back then they would have to leave Anna with the Blues and that was clearly out of the question – Yata hadn't gone to such lengths to save her only to abandon her to the arms of strangers even if they were all on the same side. In the end strength in numbers was better than nothing, even if those numbers had to include the stupid Blues.
Saruhiko still hadn't returned to the emergency outpost by the time the army had set out for the new base. Yata had been tempted to see if he could stay behind and wait but the melancholy look Kusanagi had given him when he'd started to ask had been enough to stop him. They were leaving a few troops behind just in case any stragglers made it to the outpost late but beyond that everyone was expected to gather what little belongings they had and leave.
The satellite base wasn't much better stocked than the emergency outpost had been. The base was old and rarely used, far on the outskirts of their own territory and all swamp on one side. They were packed in close as well, even tighter than the old Homra barracks had been, Homra practically sharing bedrolls with the Blue Division's Scepter 4. Dimly Yata had found himself thinking that of all the inconveniences of the base this was the one Saruhiko would have hated the most, and had tried to force the thought from his mind.
They hadn't heard from Saruhiko for two months now. The few troops that had stayed behind at the emergency outpost had returned with no news and no other survivors, Yata and Anna having in fact been the last to arrive. The communications equipment at the satellite base was old and outdated but for whatever reason the Blue Captain insisted on having someone man the system at all times just in case. Yata was part of the rotation too and if he was being entirely honest he might admit that he'd tried sending test messages a couple times out into the air, hoping that somehow Saruhiko might hear them and respond back. But for two months there had been no word, not from Saruhiko or anyone else.
At least, not until three days ago. Kusanagi and the Blues' lieutenant had gone back to investigate the situation at Shizume, going alone in order to better avoid detection. They'd nearly made it out without incident too – until a gunshot had grazed Kusanagi's arm close enough to draw blood.
"How am I supposed to calm down?" Yata demanded. His fist hurt and he ignored the pain, punching the wall again. "Saruhiko...he..."
He'd been standing along the outer wall, Kusanagi had told Yata when he and Lieutenant Awashima had returned to the base. Kusanagi had looked up half a second too late, dodged at the exact moment the gun fired and the base lit up with flares and searchlights, and even if Kusanagi hadn't heard Awashima's shocked murmur beside him Kusanagi still would have recognized it anywhere, the face of the man standing there before them.
Saruhiko, a green armband stark against the black of his jacket, still with both of his pistols at his side. He had attacked Kusanagi and Lieutenant Awashima and then alerted the rest of the Greens to their location. They'd managed to escape without anything worse than the wound on Kusanagi's arm but it had been close, and they'd barely managed to make it back to the base without being followed.
"I'm sure he has his reasons." Kusanagi looked uneasy at that and Yata glanced up sharply at him.
"Kusanagi-san?"
"Ah, well...don't worry about that for now, Yata-chan." The look on Kusanagi's face was thoughtful and oddly troubled, and it only made Yata more confused. Kusanagi shook his head and moved towards the door. "I need to finish deliverin' my report to our Captain." His tone was notably dry on the last word.
"Why do we have to listen to that guy anyway?" Yata muttered, throwing himself down in the chair he'd overturned earlier when he'd first heard Kusanagi's story of what had happened at Shizume. "He's the one who backed Saruhiko into a corner in the first place." Yata's fists clenched, a spike of pain shooting through his bruised knuckles at the movement and Yata ignored it, the memory of Saruhiko's heartbeat fluttering under his hands too vivid to shake.
"For now I'm afraid there aren't any better options," Kusanagi said with a rueful smile. "I'm not a fan of his way of doing things myself, but we're not in any position to deny his orders either. Though sometimes you're not the only one who wonders what he's thinking." Kusanagi's eyes narrowed again. "Yata-chan."
"Y-yeah?" The sober tone of Kusanagi's voice made Yata feel suddenly nervous and Kusanagi shook his head.
"No, never mind. I was just thinking..." Kusanagi's hand lingered on the bandage for a moment and his eyes were hooded. "When it comes to shooting, when was the last time you ever knew Fushimi to miss?"
Yata stared at him blankly in reply but Kusanagi didn't say anything more, only walked out of the room with the same troubled look on his face.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Yata crossed his arms and leaned his head on the table next to the radio. There was a small hum of static coming from the speakers and it was giving him a headache. He probably just couldn't see that well in the dark or something. And why is Kusanagi-san standing up for that traitor anyway? He left us.
"Saruhiko, you asshole," Yata murmured quietly, burying his head into his arms. He didn't even want to know what Saruhiko had been thinking this time, and it wasn't like it mattered anyway. He'd left, that was enough. For the second time, he'd left Yata behind without even so much as a proper explanation why.
"...of the United Colors. Please respond. This is a transmission to the forces of the United Colors. Please respond."
Yata suddenly became aware of the tinny voice emitting from the radio and he sat up straight, fumbling for the microphone.
"A-ah, um, yeah! This is...er, United Colors base responding, Solider Yata Misaki speaking, um...who is this? I mean, state your name and rank and...whatever." Kusanagi had given him a list of what he was supposed to say if he managed to hear anything over the radio and Yata suddenly couldn't recall a word of it.
"Heh. Of course it would be you doing the grunt work of listening for communications, huh, Misaki?" Even with the voice muddled by static and distance the tone was instantly familiar and Yata jumped to his feet, slamming his palms hard against the table so hard it made the radio shake.
"Saruhiko!" Yata's grip on the microphone went white. "What the hell do you think you're doing contacting us you—you fucking traitor!" He bit off the last word, harshly, and Yata could feel his entire body starting to tremble with the force of the emotions rushing through him, flowing through his veins hotter than blood could ever be.
"Still don't understand anything at all, do you, Misaki?" There was the usual mocking lilt in Saruhiko's voice but Yata felt like there was something beneath it too, something he might almost have been able to grasp if they'd been face to face and not on either side of a weak fuzzy radio signal.
"Yeah, I don't understand," Yata said coldly. "I don't understand what the hell is going on in your stupid head that you could go over to the fucking Greens of all people. You didn't have to leave-"
"I did," Saruhiko said shortly. There was the sound of something from the other line, a buzz of muffled voices and movement and when Saruhiko spoke again it was like Yata was listening to him through layers of thick fabric. "I don't have time to spell things out so that your idiot mind will understand them. Is the Captain nearby?"
"Fuck your Captain, I'm not done talking to you," Yata said shortly and he heard Saruhiko give an irritated sigh.
"It figures that out of everyone who could be manning communications I got stuck with an idiot like you," Saruhiko said dryly. "Fine. I need you to give him a message."
"Why should I listen to a message from the guy who betrayed us?" Yata said angrily. "You didn't have to go to those guys, Saruhiko. We could have – I could have-"
"Stop talking about things you don't understand, idiot." There seemed to be something almost resigned in Saruhiko's voice and Yata wondered if it was just some combination of his imagination and the poor connection. "I told you, I haven't got time. Tell the Captain that he was right about the transmitter, an old radio set to a secondary frequency should be able to bypass the jammer. I'm sending you the location details via code, it'll be set at a fixed loop for the next three minutes so you had better find someone with a brain who can actually interpret it or else this entire mission will be for nothing."
"What?" Yata repeated blankly. Something in the back of his mind insisted that Saruhiko's words should have made sense but they seemed to slur together in his ears, sounds with no meaning at all behind them, only Saruhiko's voice so close to him but Saruhiko himself too far away to touch.
"Honestly, Misaki, you're such a moron." There was the resigned note again and something heavier, something almost like regret that made the tips of Yata's fingers feel suddenly ice cold. "I'm shutting off communications now and setting up the relay code. Three minutes, Misaki. Go find someone already."
"W-wait, Saruhiko!" Yata leaned in close to the radio, as if getting closer to it somehow could cross the unknown span of distance between himself and Saruhiko. "What are you talking about? Your location..."
"I suppose I couldn't expect an idiot like you to figure it out, even when it's right there in front of you." Saruhiko gave a soft bitter laugh. "It's all right, Misaki. I'm sure you'll forget about me soon enough."
"Forget?" Yata repeated, the chill spreading throughout his body, all his anger suddenly forgotten, thrown on the floor with the dust and dirt. "Stop saying weird stuff, Saruhiko! We're—we're going to see each other again, right? I still need to kick your ass for betraying us!"
"Right." Saruhiko laughed again, patronizing almost. "Because I'm a traitor." His voice was heavy and final on the last word, the ringing of a funeral bell, and suddenly the idea of Saruhiko cutting off communications made Yata's heart feel like it was beating so hard it would burst.
"Saruhiko..." Yata swallowed shakily, words lodged in his throat so tightly he thought he might choke. "Stop—stop talking like that. You're really starting to freak me out you know..."
"Three minutes," Saruhiko's voice repeated dispassionately. "Bye, Yata."
The line abruptly went dead. A moment later Yata heard the sound of something beeping through the radio, a mix of short and long sounds in an odd but distinct pattern. It cycled once and then began to repeat.
"Saruhiko!" Yata shook the radio, as if that would do anything. "H-hey, Saruhiko!"
"So it has begun." Yata whirled at the sound of the voice. The Blue Captain was standing in the doorway, flanked by two other soldiers of the division.
"W-wait, what's going on?" Yata choked out as Munakata strode past him to stand before the radio, listening to the repeating pattern. He nodded at one of the soldiers accompanying him.
"Take down the pattern and relay the coordinates to me as soon as you have them," Munakata said. He looked up sharply at Yata, who found himself backing up slightly despite himself. "Did Fushimi-kun say anything else?"
"What are you-"
"Did Fushimi-kun say anything else?" Munakata repeated, the words clipped and cold.
"Y-yeah, he said something about..about a transmitter and a...another frequency, I guess?" Yata shook his head. "Wait, you knew Saruhiko was going to contact us?"
"I see. So it was as we thought." Munakata ignored Yata's last question, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Excellent. Enomoto-kun, I trust you can handle it?"
"Yes sir!" The Blue standing by the radio gave a quick salute.
"Excellent. Fuse-kun, if you would assist?" Munakata gestured to the other Blue, who nodded and moved to join his comrade. Munakata turned without another word and began to walk away. Yata hesitated for only a moment before running after him.
"Hey, wait!" Yata yelled roughly. Munakata stopped, looking back at him with an impenetrable gaze, and Yata found himself so aware of his own heartbeat it felt as though he could stop it with only a thought, an echo of pulsing blood in his ears and a chill somewhere deeper down that no simple fire could warm. The memory of Saruhiko's voice as they'd spoken – "Bye, Yata" – made him steel himself though, drag the words out. "What's happening? Saruhiko – he betrayed you, right, so why...?"
"You are correct. Fushimi-kun did betray me." Munakata's voice was solemn and his expression was set and serious. "Or rather, he appeared to be betray me, as was his mission."
"Mission?" Yata felt as though all the air had suddenly gone out of the room, stomach dropping to his feet as he finally grasped the thing that had been hovering unseen at the edges of his mind since the moment he'd heard Saruhiko's voice over the radio.
"Indeed. I had managed to receive some intelligence indicating Hisui Nagare's next target was Shizume base," Munakata said. "That being the case, I thought it prudent to prepare a contingency in case our forces were to be unable to hold the base against the Green Army. Should we lose, I instructed Fushimi-kun to infiltrate the Greens by any means necessary and relay their coordinates to me as soon as he was able."
"You..." Yata's hands shook and there was another sharp spike of pain from his bruised knuckles. "How the hell could you give him an order like that? If the Greens find out he could be killed-"
"He could." The words were flippant but the tone was deadly serious. "I am well aware of the weight I carry, Yata-kun. Fushimi-kun himself agreed to the mission of his own free will, knowing the dangers he faced and that I could not guarantee his safety. He chose regardless. To take back those words afterward out of fear would be an insult to his loyalty. Thus I allowed him to leave the emergency outpost, knowing full well the den of vipers I was sending him into."
"But...that's..." Yata stared down fixedly at the floor. His entire body was trembling, small fine shakes that seemed to reach down into his bones and he couldn't seem to make himself be still.
"Had he chosen to truly defect, of course, I imagine his safety would be guaranteed," Munakata added mildly as he began to walk away, seemingly unconcerned with Yata's troubled state of mind. "But I felt that was a gamble worth taking and I do not, after all, take gambits I do not believe I can win. Now if you'll excuse me I must make preparations for the force to move out as swiftly as possible." He glanced briefly back at Yata. "The final mission will begin as soon as I have the coordinates from Enomoto-kun. I suggest you prepare yourself as well. We must act swiftly if we are to arrive at Hisui Nagare's hideout in time for Fushimi-kun's extraction."
"Extraction?" Yata repeated dully, barely able to grasp the meaning of the word through the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts.
"It will take time to prepare the troops and march upon Hisui Nagare's base," Munakata said, back turned away again. "Fushimi-kun is on his own until then."
"Wait, but that's—he'll get killed, won't he?" Yata shook his head. "We can't wait, we have to-"
"I trust Fushimi-kun will be able to handle himself until we arrive," Munakata said. The words were confident but the tone was unreadable and Yata felt his heart drop, along with a sudden painful throbbing where his left eye had once been. "I choose to believe in that. I suggest you decide whether you wish to do the same, Yata-kun."
With that Munakata walked away, the sharp tapping of his boots on the floor echoing hollowly along the corridor. Yata found himself falling back against the wall, one fist pressed close against his body.
"Saruhiko..." He didn't betray us. The realization was a weight in his stomach, dragging him down so much that before he knew it he'd fallen to his knees.
He didn't betray us. Saruhiko didn't betray us.
He didn't betray us, and he's going to die.
–
The sky was gray and overcast, and Yata's boots were caked with dirt as he marched.
It had been hours now, since they'd left the base, and despite the fact that the majority of the force was on foot Yata hadn't heard a single word of complaint. Instead the company was almost eerily silent, the marching of dozens of boots and the soft engine rumble of the few trucks they had on hand the only sound. The air was hot and stuffy, the cold of winter having given way to a damp and humid spring, and where Yata thought he should have been able to see green growth and bright colors there was only mossy swamp and thick clinging mud.
They'd left in the early light of morning, the sun nothing more than a spot on the horizon and all but smothered under gauzy clouds. Yata had spent a fitful night in his bunk, turning Saruhiko's final words over and over in his head, telling himself that they were certainly going to reach Saruhiko in time, that Saruhiko would be waiting there with that look of quiet confidence and wondering what had taken them so long. Even so it seemed he couldn't quite stop his heart from clenching, couldn't stop worst case scenarios running through his mind, visions of a bloody corpse, of a charred face and a hand slipping from his one last time.
He'd said a reluctant goodbye to Anna before they'd left – this was one mission she wouldn't be able to accompany them on, having instead been entrusted to several Blue soldiers who were to lead her to refugee camp run by some one-armed demon man who had worked under the previous Blue Captain and who Lieutenant Awashima had assured Kusanagi would defend Anna's life with his own. Even so it had been hard for Yata to keep the encouraging smile on his face as he'd said his goodbyes, knowing where he was headed, what kind of battle was no doubt going to take place when he got there.
("Homra will definitely kick their asses!" The child's bravado he'd been forced to outgrow, and Yata had no illusions about their chances this time, about the shattered things he was marching towards, the empty hands he was likely to return with if he even returned at all.)
"Saruhiko will be okay." Anna's eyes had been oddly intent and Yata's expression had faltered for just a moment as she'd pressed a small red marble into his palm.
"Anna." Yata had swallowed hard, not sure what to say – he knew Kusanagi hadn't told her about Saruhiko's 'betrayal' and Yata hadn't mentioned Saruhiko's part in the secret transmission at all per Munakata's orders; without knowing if Fushimi's position as double agent had been compromised Munakata had deemed it too dangerous to reveal his participation to the force at large. Still, in hindsight, Yata supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Anna had known anyway. "Anna, Saruhiko is-"
"Bring him back home." Anna had smiled at him then, and out of everything that had been what had made that old familiar confidence shoot through him for just a moment, his mind calm and clear and no pain at all from the missing space behind his eye patch or the scars on his palm.
He hadn't promised to bring Saruhiko back because he couldn't, not then. But Yata swore it to himself, with every step he took closer to Ashinaka where the Greens and Saruhiko were waiting.
He was going to save Saruhiko.
"Yata-chan." Kusanagi's voice from beside him made him start, so lost in thought he hadn't even realized that the older man had come up beside him. Kusanagi's arm was still bandaged but he'd insisted on coming anyway, as Homra's acting commander.
"Kusanagi-san!" Yata attempted a messy salute and gave up on it halfway through.
"You feelin' all right?" Kusanagi placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and Yata gave a wavering smile in return. "You look pretty pale. We've got a long way to go still, you know."
"Y-yeah, I know..." Yata's eyes were drawn to Kusanagi's bandaged arm and he couldn't stop himself from continuing. "Kusanagi-san...did you know about it? That Saruhiko was-"
"Ah, well, I wouldn't say 'knew.'" Kusanagi laughed a bit but his eyes were clearly troubled as his fingers brushed against his arm. "I thought it was strange. He had us caught, back at Shizume. Seri-chan and I didn't even know he was there, and we were in a bad position. If Fushimi had wanted to take us down, he could've managed a more devastating injury than this one. And Fushimi isn't the kind of guy to let his opponents off easy just because we used to be friends." He glanced at Yata sharply on the last word and Yata kept his gaze steady.
"So...you agree with that bastard the Blue Captain's plan?" Yata asked, fists clenching. "Saruhiko could be-"
"Now, now, I didn't say that, Yata-chan." Kusanagi idly lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag and blowing out smoke. "It's a risky move. I can't blame you for bein' angry. I'm not happy about it myself, usin' Fushimi as trump card like that, knowin' full well what could happen if he gets caught. But it's not my decision to make."
"Because that asshole Blue-"
"Yata-chan." Kusanagi's soft but stern voice stopped him. "I'm not talkin' about our Captain either." His voice was dry and unimpressed on the word 'Captain' and Kusanagi brought his cigarette up to his lips again. "From what I hear, it was Fushimi's choice to take the mission. That kid..." Kusanagi shook his head and then glanced at Yata. "Well, Fushimi's smart. He probably figured he could make it out on his own, if things came to that."
"Hmmph. That guy's an idiot, you mean." Yata crossed his arms and kept his gaze averted as he continued. "Kusanagi-san...do you think we'll make it in time?"
"Well..." Kusanagi trailed off, thinking, and Yata's heart clenched again. He'd tried saying it to himself, that it would be fine, that they would make it in time without any trouble at all. But Kusanagi, Yata knew, wasn't going to do that – not Kusanagi, who knew exactly what happened when a plan went awry, knew painfully well what the worst case could be. "I wish I could reassure you, Yata-chan. But right now...we can only trust in Fushimi, I'd say."
"Trust in Saruhiko..." Yata gave a bitter laugh. "That guy's too stubborn to die easily, right? Once we save him I'm gonna kick his ass for not just telling me what the hell was going on, fuck the secret mission."
Kusanagi gave a small laugh and it made Yata feel suddenly a little more confident, energy seeming to spark back into his body.
"Give 'im an extra punch for me," Kusanagi said lightly. He gave Yata an appraising glance and then looked up at the sky. "We'll probably be takin' a brief stop for everyone to get somethin' in their stomachs soon. Why don't you scout ahead for a safe clearing?"
"You can count on me!" Yata gave a sharp salute and increased his pace to a trot, bypassing the rest of the company easily as he ran ahead. The wind that blew by him was hot and stung his face just a bit, and the clouds hovered like steam on the horizon.
There was something else on the wind too, Yata realized, like a low hum in the distance, and he couldn't quite place where it was coming from.
"Ah, Yata-kun. We meet again." The sound of the voice behind him made Yata whirl, any thoughts of strange sounds fleeing from his mind as he glared at the Blue Captain.
"Aren't you supposed to be leading the army?" Yata muttered the words half to himself, well aware of how rude he was being to the guy who was – technically – his superior officer but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. This was the asshole who had sent Saruhiko to his possible death, after all, and if they were too late Yata knew that he would never forgive Munakata, no matter if Saruhiko had agreed for the 'greater good' or not.
"It appears we are taking a momentary rest," Munakata said smoothly. "It seems we have a way to go still. I thought it best to be certain everyone is in peak shape for what may well be our final offensive against Hisui Nagare." He eyed Yata keenly and Yata couldn't help but shift a bit nervously under that gaze.
It wasn't like he didn't know all of this would be useless if they arrived exhausted and unable to fight. Even so, knowing that every moment wasted was a moment that Saruhiko was still in Hisui Nagare's clutches – might be already dead for all Yata knew, and his chest felt tight just thinking about it – made it impossible for him to stay still.
"...How could you send him there?" The words were out of his mouth before Yata could think better of them.
"Oh? I'm afraid I do not understand your meaning, Yata-kun." Munakata's voice was calm and pleasant, and it pissed Yata off so much it took all his control to keep from grabbing the asshole by the front of his jacket and demanding to know what the fuck he'd been thinking, sending Saruhiko into the enemy's hands.
"Saruhiko." Yata could hear the shake in his own voice. "You sent him straight into hell and now he might – he might be –"
"I am aware of the outcome of events which I myself set in motion." Munakata's voice was dark and it made another shiver run down Yata's spine, as if someone had walked over his grave. "Even so, there was little choice. I required a contingency, and Fushimi-kun agreed to play that role. But allow me to ask you this, Yata-kun...what is Fushimi-kun to you?"
"Huh?" Yata looked up, caught off guard. Munakata was staring at him with bright appraising eyes and Yata shifted nervously. "Saruhiko...he was..." My best friend, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. Who knew what they were to reach other now – and as for the past, Yata knew in that moment that 'best friend' wasn't, had never been enough to describe what they were to each other. Saruhiko had been everything and even though things had changed, even though their worlds were so much larger now, Yata knew that if Saruhiko died there would always be a hole in him, more real than even the place where his left eye had been, a piece of his very soul gone that he would never be able to get back.
"I see." Munakata seemed to have read something in his silence, taking a step forward and placing his hands on Yata's shoulders. Yata stiffened in his grip, fists clenching, and yet even so he couldn't tear his eye away from Munakata's. "I am aware that you do not consider me your Captain. Even so, I request this one indulgence of you: save Fushimi Saruhiko."
"W-what?" It felt as though he must have missed something somehow, that there was no way Munakata would have ever spoken those words, and yet Munakata's eyes and face were still deathly serious.
"If you will accept it, I offer this mission," Munakata continued. "When we reach Hisui Nagare's hideout, you are to locate Fushimi Saruhiko and enable his escape as quickly as possible. I would have him returned unharmed, if possible."
"What the hell?" Yata choked out. "You sent him to his death and now you're asking me-"
"As I said, an indulgence," Munakata said. "I told you before, Yata-kun. I am aware of the weight that I bear. Even so, my priority in this situation must be the capture or killing of Hisui Nagare. I cannot allow concern for a single soldier, even one as important as Fushimi-kun, to derail that priority. That being the case, I must entrust this mission to another. I offer it to you, if you will accept it. Save Fushimi-kun. Bring him home."
"That's..." Yata swallowed, trying to find his voice around a throat gone dry. "I..."
The sudden sound of an airplane engine in the distance swallowed up his words and Yata started, instinctively looking up for signs of the planes he knew had to be approaching fast, fire bombs and black smoke carried along with them and he suddenly realized how vulnerable their army was, out here with only the forest for cover.
Did they know we were coming? Does that mean...does that mean Saruhiko is...
He turned to Munakata, expecting to see the army's de facto commander already turning to give orders for avoiding the inevitable airstrike. Instead Munakata was looking up at the sky with an expression that was undeniably pleased.
"I see they've found us at last," he murmured and Yata couldn't help but gape at him.
"What the hell are you talking about? The Greens are here, we have to-"
"On the contrary, Yata-kun," Munakata said, eyes sparkling. "The sounds you hear are our reinforcements, arrived at last. I'm afraid I must take my leave. I imagine General Weismann will be looking for a place to land, and we have much to discuss."
"General...?" Yata repeated, something in the back of his mind insisting that the name wasn't completely unknown to him. And as always it was Saruhiko's voice that gave him the answer, another echo of memory, nights in a barrack memorizing the names of their superior officers.
Weismann. The Silver General, leader of the only section of the United Colors that had anything like air support.
"I'm afraid our rest will have to be cut short." Munakata was already walking away and Yata had to hurry to catch up with him. "The General and I will coordinate our strategies and then we must resume the march. If you would, please tell Kusanagi-kun that I request his participation in this meeting as well. We will be waiting for him at the head of the company."
Yata stared at him blankly, his mind still trying to process what exactly was going on.
"And do think about my request," Munakata added. "I do not intend to give you an order that you have no desire to follow, Yata-kun. But should you choose to make Fushimi-kun your priority over even the defeat of Hisui Nagare himself, I will allow it. You have complete freedom in this matter. Make your own choice, and do as you wish."
There wasn't so much as the smallest pause in Munakata's steps but even so Yata had the distinct feeling of being dismissed. He stared after Munakata for a long moment before turning to head back towards the tail end of the force, where he knew Kusanagi would be.
Like I needed you to ask me that. He'd known it from the moment he'd left their camp, what his primary goal in this mission was. Hisui Nagare, the Green Army – none of it mattered, not anymore.
"Saruhiko..." Yata closed his eye and raised his head towards the sky, breathing in the smoke on the wind, the scent of a fire about to spark. "If you die all by yourself I'll never forgive you."