Grief had no place on the field. At least not when it came to indulging in it. Or simply giving into it. Mourning could only be indulged after the battle. And even then there was a balance to be kept between losses, morale and drive. Victory made grief easier to bear, made it feel like the loss had had a meaning, a purpose, that the souls of the fallen had remained to aid the ones that fought on. To carry their blades and will, to free them after achieving the goal.
Kojuro watched as Yumi talked to her men, listening to their story and how Tadao had stayed behind to ensure the others escaped.
Missing.
They insisted on that.
Lingering hope.
As long as it did not distract the ones that nurtured it from their objective it was not a bad thing to have. She was showing very little beyond the leader she had been to them, talking about the plan, asking a few passing soldiers to organize a place for them to stay and to show them where they would fit in best.
There was a deep sigh when they vanished into the camp. Yumi couldn't keep it in. Even her shoulders slumped slightly, eyes closing. Her hands almost reached, up, looking for the hood that was no longer there. That she was able to stop before it showed.
Tadao had made all that possible by ensuring she survived the treachery in the first place. If he was still alive he would be fighting. If he had been captured they would find him. If he had fallen his spirit would be with them in the push to displace Sojiro.
However it didn't feel bad when Kojuro placed his arms around her, offering comfort. It didn't feel awkward or strange even if others were looking. It grew a bit embarrassing when the shout of the One-Eyed Dragon for them to kiss made Saki laugh. Judging by the red covering Kojuro's face she wasn't the only one affected by the sudden butting in.
Even if her resolve had been unshaken that did help to lighten the burden.